#I did this in one sitting and I have no idea where it came from

[spideyjimin]

Bloodlines entwined: I | jjk

⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child. 

—  pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  words: 7,213

—  warnings: strong language, mention of death, mention of murder, mention of loneliness, mention of blood, several mentions of abortion, and crying

—  author’s note: here it is the first chapter of this series! <3 i’m actually very excited about this entire universe, i’ve been working on it for a little while already & i’ve been taking my time to write each part 🤗 the beginning is inspired by Jane the Virgin and the Flash as they are both my favorite shows ✨ i hope you’ll enjoy this part & don’t hesitate to let me know what you think 😊  

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Chapter I: when worlds collide

SERIES MASTERLIST | next

Sitting in your car, you’ve been looking blinkingly at the windshield, hands trembling against the steering wheel. For ten whole minutes, you’ve been frozen like this as if moving would shatter the fragile sense of calm you’ve barely managed to hold together.

Your life is about to drastically change; you know it deep down.  

“The deed is done,” you whisper to yourself.

You let out a shaky breath, and your reflection in the rearview mirror catches your eye. You look exhausted, your eyes wide and glistening.

For two years, this moment has been building. You have thoughtfully considered having a child on your own. At first, it was just a random thought that crossed your mind, a curiosity born on one of those quiet, lonely moments where life felt both too much and not enough. Then, you deeply thought about it. The idea rooted itself deep within you, anchoring into something raw and tender: a longing to create a family on your own terms. 

After much research and consideration, you decided to go for it.

Many people couldn’t understand your choice, but honestly, you don’t give two shits about others’ opinions. What did matter to you was the support of close family and friends.

Felix, the man who raised you after your parents were stolen from you, proposed to accompany you to the fertility clinic, but you gently declined his offer. This was something you wanted to do by yourself. Well, you just came alone to be inseminated. Other than that, he has been by your side every step of the way.

He helped you to go through the countless donor profiles, and every document needed for this adventure of yours.

The process was a bit long and emotionally draining. The first steps were more like an evaluation, mostly for the clinic to understand your reasons and ensure you’ve deeply thought about all the aspects. Having a kid alone isn’t just about fulfilling your dreams but also about building a life for a child.

Once you’ve successfully completed those steps, you had to choose the donor. There were a lot of choices; it was like going grocery shopping. You were handed a catalog of potential donors with their medical histories and first names. It felt odd to be choosing the progenitor like this. After going through every profile, one of them stood out.

Following the donor selection, your cycles and hormone levels were tracked. When all was good, you’d get inseminated on your ovulation period, which technically is happening this week.  

So, ten minutes ago, you walked out of the clinic after being artificially knocked up.

If your egg is fertilized, in nine months, you’ll welcome your very much desired baby. A tiny human who will call you mom. You already picked the names, one for a girl, one for a boy. You simply can’t wait to welcome a tiny human in your life. Hopefully, the life of your baby will be better than yours.

You lean your head against the steering wheel, closing your eyes as the ghosts of your past surface.

Twenty years ago, your life was turned upside down when a terrible murderer put an end to your parents’ lives. Nobody ever found him or her; it’s like the person completely vanished into the night. That person left behind a little girl with questions nobody could ever answer and scars nobody could understand.  

Since you didn’t have any family left, you were raised by your father’s best friend, Felix. Over time, he became like a second father to you. Even though you were full of anger when he took you over, he stayed by your side and helped you navigate this sad reality; one where your parents weren’t part of anymore.

His daughter, Lexi is your age. You were already so close, and living under the same roof brought you even closer. She’s your super best friend, almost like a sister today. A smile grows on your face as you think of her. Your life would have been a nightmare without her.

Lexi was the first person to be aware of this desire to become a single mother. She even pushed you to do it as soon as you could, and she has encouraged you like nobody else. She also helped you select a donor; she even made fun of the names of some of them.

Your phone buzzes; the name and picture of Lexi appearing on the screen.

“Hi,” you say when you pick up.

“Soo,” she says. “How did it go?”

“Good, I guess?” you say with clear hesitation. “The doctor just inserted a thin catheter, looked at the screen, and said it was done,” you explain. “Now we just have to wait.”

Waiting is now the worst part, especially since you decided not to take any pregnancy test until the next appointment. Meaning, you have to wait two full weeks.

“Let’s hope the donor’s little swimmers are good ones,” she says.

While you always wanted to have a kid, Lexi never wanted one. You and her are total opposites but that’s what helped create such a strong bond between you. “Yeah, let’s hope for that,” you smile.  

Two weeks later

A couple of days ago, you took a blood test, and now, you’re in the waiting room, patiently waiting for the doctor to call you up.

These past two weeks, you’ve been internally battling to take a pregnancy test. It’s been hard to fight the urge to discover beforehand if you’re expecting or not. On your way to the clinic, your heart was beating extremely fast with nervousness. Even the music playing in the car didn’t seem to calm you down.

Even though you’re extremely nervous, a part of you knows. You can’t explain it, but you feel it deep down. Two nights ago, you were lying in bed completely exhausted after an intense day at work. The rhythm of your heartbeat was rocking you to sleep. Amidst the thrum of your own heart, you swear you could hear a faint, smaller, and quicker rhythm.

You instantly opened your eyes, scanning the room. The sound wasn’t coming from outside. It felt like it was inside you. You stayed perfectly still, listening to that tiny sound. That night, you were rocked to sleep by that new rhythm.

The morning after, as you caught your reflection in the bathroom’s mirror, something felt off. Your brows furrowed as you noticed your own scent was different. It felt like it was mixed with somebody else’s scent, but it wasn’t as strong as yours or any other living human. It was extremely odd.

After a little while, the doctor says your name, and with shaky legs, you walk to her office. Your heart is beating at a very crazy pace, ready to burst at any moment. This is so stressful; it feels like time is moving so slowly.

“Hello yn,” the doctor smiles at you while you’re entering the room. “How have you been feeling?” you now take a seat.

“I’m good, thanks,” you smile back at her.

She sits down at her desk and takes a look at her computer.

“So, did you take any pregnancy test?” she asks.

“No, no,” you answer. “I wanted to keep the surprise for today.”

“I see,” she looks again at her screen before taping on her keyboard.

She seems to quickly read something before her smile widens. Your heart is going completely crazy. It really makes you nervous, and you try to mentally prepare yourself to receive the bad news as well. It’ll definitely break your heart but you’ll try again.  

This entire process is quite expensive, but the payment can be spread out over time rather than made in one shot. With this first payment, you have the right to three attempts. If pregnancy isn’t achieved after those attempts, you’ll have to go through another round and pay for additional attempts.

The doctor mentioned that usually, it takes about three to six attempts to achieve a successful pregnancy. Hopefully, you’ll get pregnant within those first three tries. You’re not entirely sure you’ll be able to afford another round of insemination.   

“Well, it looks like it only took you one try to conceive,” she informs you.

And right there, your heart bursts with joy. There’s indeed a little human being growing inside you. You’ll become a mother in nine months. You can’t believe it.

A little tear runs down your face as you hear the good news. It’s such a relief. You won't have to worry about coming back for another round.

“That’s good news,” you clean the tear on your cheek.

“It is indeed,” she says. “In four weeks more or less, we’ll plan an ultrasound to confirm the embryo’s implantation and check for a heartbeat,” she adds.

Well, you’ll still get worried about that because maybe until there, your baby will not survive. But you need to remain positive. No need to start stressing about it; you promised yourself that you’ll try to remain calm the entirety of the process and pregnancy so you’ll offer a great beginning of life to your baby.

“I’m very hopeful everything will go well because both you and the donor are in good health,” she says.

“Let’s hope for that,” you answer.

You then proceed to schedule the next appointment in four weeks. You can’t hide the immense smile on your face. This is the best news you got today. Nothing else will ever be possible to ruin this day.

When you leave the clinic, you instantly call Lexi.

“I AM PREGNANT!” you scream with excitement.

“Yeeeah,” she screams as well. “I’m going to be an aunty!” she adds.

“I’m so relieved that this first attempt was successful,” you admit.

Once you get inside your car, you touch your belly to caress it.

“That baby is so lucky to have you as a mother,” she says after. “And even more lucky to join our family.”

For sure, your family will extremely love this baby. It’s such a desired baby, and everybody has been so excited.

“They’ll be so loved,” you reply.

“There’s absolutely no doubt,” she says. “Dad will be so happy about this news; he’s been so excited to become a grandpa.”

Felix has expressed lately that he couldn’t wait to welcome a baby and become a granddad. This man has raised you for twenty years, and you consider him as a second father. There’s no doubt that your baby will see him as their grandfather even if, biologically speaking, he isn’t.

When you hang up, you stare into the void for a couple of minutes. In this moment, you wish your parents would be here. They would have been so happy to become grandparents, but they won’t be by your side for this new chapter of your life.

They are also the reason why you’re doing all of this. Since they passed, there’s been a tremendous emptiness inside you that even the love of Felix couldn’t fill in. This void stems mostly from the fact that you were left alone when they were killed. You’ve been feeling so lonely since then.

Throughout your life, you tried to fill it with relationships but they all failed. As far as you can remember, you wanted to follow the traditional path to build a family. However, it never worked out. Then, one day, you saw a brochure about single mothers, and you’ve been thinking about it since then.

You’ve seen motherhood as a role that will fill this emotional void you’ve been carrying for years. Plus, you’ve also seen it as a way to finally control your life. Twenty years ago, someone decided for you what your life would become. This wasn’t fair.

And you also want to give your baby the life you never got. You want to give them a loving family that won’t disappear the second the parents die. Outside of your parents, you didn’t have a family. Based on what Felix told you, your grandparents were against your parents' relationship so they moved into another city to live freely and build a family.

Life hasn’t been fair for you, but you want to make it fair for your baby.

Two weeks later

The clinic called you this morning to urgently come in the afternoon, only making you grow concerned during the day. You kept wondering what the reason for such urgency would be. Did they notice something when they did the blood test? Did they get the wrong blood test? Are you even really pregnant? 

However, you’re a hundred percent sure you’re carrying a life inside you. You haven’t had the ‘normal’ early symptoms yet, but you can feel your baby inside you. The faint heartbeat can still be heard, and there’s still that subtle scent interwoven with yours.

For the past two weeks, you’ve repeatedly inhaled this new scent, almost to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. Most of the time, you wondered if it wasn’t something like blood, sweat, or the smell of your new shampoo. It was definitely an earthly one. One that only a human can possess.

Once inside the clinic, you’re instantly installed in the doctor’s room. Your heart is crazily beating inside your chest; you’re so nervous right now. Seconds later, a man joins you in the room.

At first glance, you’d think he is the CEO of a huge company. He’s fully dressed in a black suit with a white shirt underneath, his hands casually placed in his pants pockets. This man is extremely charismatic; something about him draws you in.  

The man looks at you while frowning, his eyes moving from your eyes to your belly. By reflex, you cover your stomach with your hands. He’s making you uncomfortable with his intense stare.

He has a very strong bestial scent, it predominates his cologne. Everything about him is imposing, even the way his heart beats; it’s so calm while yours is completely erratic. The man’s eyes are clued on you.

The doctor arrives right after and closes the door behind her. Her face is quite serious; she even seems concerned.

“Miss y/l/n,” she takes a seat at her desk. “Mister Jeon,” she looks at the man behind you. “Please take a seat.”

The two of you sit down next to each other with apprehension. You can hear his heart beating a little faster, but he remains extremely calm on the outside.  

“There’s been a mistake,” she starts saying.

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. The doctor pauses, giving you time to absorb the gravity of the statement. Her tone is gentle, but at the same time professional.  

The sterile, cold walls of the room seem to close in around you as the doctor’s words pierce through your thoughts.

“There was a mix-up with the sample…” your breath is caught in your throat, your hands trembling. “We were supposed to inseminate you with the donor sample you selected. We still don’t know how but you got inseminated with Mister Jeon’s sample.”

Your eyes look at the man sitting next to you. All you can see in his eyes is the same disbelief that reflects your own. So, this is your child’s father.  

Many questions cross your mind, but they remain unspoken, lodged in your throat.

“We truly apologize for our mistake,” she says. “We were totally aware you both wanted to have a child alone.”

You desired nothing more than being alone in this adventure; you didn’t want a present father. That was the whole point of a donor. Now, you know the father of your child, and he’d probably like to be present.

For the past months, you went through a series of questions regarding the fact that you’ll raise your child alone. They asked you many times how you’d explain to your child that they don’t have a father. This now feels like a complete waste of time.

“We understand the nature of this situation. We will refund the totality of the treatment’s costs. We can also terminate the pregnancy if you both wish.”

Those words seem so heavy and yet, they represent the reality of the choice you now have to face. A knot tightens in your stomach at the thought of undoing something you wished for so long. The baby is now growing inside of you, you’ve got used to falling asleep with their tiny heartbeat. The only thought of not having it anymore breaks your heart beyond comprehension.

Right now, everything—your carefully constructed plans, your hopes, the small life growing inside you—seems to be slipping through your fingers.

Mister Jeon is silent beside you, his hands clenched into fists on his knees. He seems as stunned as you, but you can’t help but think that there’s something else there too. Something deeper and darker.

You ignore if he’s thinking the same thing as you, but you can feel it: the strange twist of fate pulling you both into an unknown world, one you both hadn’t planned for.

“You still have some time to decide, of course,” the doctor’s voice is still very soft.

Time seems irrelevant now. There’s a choice you need to make; a choice you didn’t expect to face. You swallow hard, your heart racing inside your chest. Your hands caress your belly through your shirt while you only hear the baby’s fragile heartbeat.

This isn’t supposed to happen. This can’t be real.

Jungkook’s face went pale as the doctor’s words sank in.

“There’s been a mistake,” she starts saying.

Just like you, the room’s white walls feel suffocating, the air thick with a tension he can’t shake. A mistake. His mistake. He tried to avoid this situation. He was supposed to go through surrogacy to guarantee a child that would uphold his lineage. His werewolf lineage, pure and untouched by human blood.

“There was a mix-up with the sample…” the doctor’s words hang up in the air like a death sentence. “We were supposed to inseminate you with the donor sample you selected. We still don’t know how but you got inseminated with Mister Jeon’s sample.”

His eyes quickly look at you, and he notices how much you’re shaking. It seems like you’re in a more devasted state than he is.  

“We truly apologize for our mistake,” she says. “We were totally aware you both wanted to have a child alone.”

Jungkook blinks, trying to absorb what is happening. A human child. Nonetheless, his child. Having children with humans isn’t just a personal choice; it’s a fundamental rule of the werewolf society. The very foundation of his power as the king depends on the purity of his bloodline. To break the rule is to risk everything.

He knows better than anyone what happens to the werewolf-human hybrid kids together with the parents. They are killed by the pack. Being a king doesn’t make him the exception to the rule. If this pregnancy goes to full term, not only will he be killed, but the baby and the lady sitting next to him will too.  

You didn’t ask for any of this. You don’t deserve to die because of a mistake. 

His gaze filled with frustration and panic moves toward you once more as his pulse quickens. He wanted control over the situation. He never intended to father a hybrid child. And now, not only is he involved in this pregnancy, but the child is going to carry his blood mixed with human genetics. God only knows what can happen to this kid, genetically speaking.

“We understand the nature of this situation. We will refund the totality of the treatment costs. We can also terminate the pregnancy if you both wish.”

‘This can’t be happening’, he thinks.

His eyes move back to the doctors, his hands clenched into fists. The thought of the entire werewolf community learning of this is unbearable. And what is his mother going to think of this?

She was the first person to support him in this surrogacy journey. She knew how important it was for him to have a child as soon as possible because he’d been struggling to find someone with whom he’d mate. Having an heir is the first thing a king should do to ensure the legacy.

Now, he’s about to have a child with a human. That’s not possible. This child won’t have a pure bloodline, this child can’t ever be an heir.     

“You still have some time to decide, of course,” the doctor’s voice is still very soft.

The idea of termination seems dreadful, but the possibility of a hybrid child heir seems even worse. His responsibility as king, and the traditions that have been in place for centuries don’t allow for such breach. To raise a kid with human blood would mean instant disgrace, not only for him but for his entire family. How could he even be respected after this?

His entire world is slipping through his fingers. His position as king is now in jeopardy. This baby will destabilize the entire werewolf community. Nobody will respect him and will only see him as weak. Weak for having a human child.

There’s no going back. His mind tries to find a solution to fix this, or how to undo this. The idea of raising a child with a human—no matter how much it is his responsibility—is unthinkable. He never desired this and hasn’t even considered it. He has been so focused on maintaining his bloodline that the idea of a mistake happening never crossed his mind.

Your presence beside him destabilizes him beyond comprehension. He can see the confusion in your eyes mixed with disbelief. You can’t comprehend the extension of this entire problem. You can’t even comprehend the danger of mixing bloodlines, because you aren’t a werewolf.

Jungkook stands in silence for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts. Terminating this pregnancy isn’t something he desires, but having a child with a human is simply impossible. His heart beats too crazily, and he can hear yours beating just as fast. His heart and duty are pulling him in two different directions.

Finally, his eyes meet yours. His voice is soft but it carries a heavy weight. “We need to decide. This affects both of us.”

After what felt like an eternity, you both leave the room completely shaken up by the news you just got. How could this be happening?

As you’re both walking in the clinic in the parking lot’s direction, none of you dares to speak. You’re a complete stranger to Jungkook. All he knows is that you’re a human carrying his child. 

“I can’t have that child,” he finally breaks the silence.

His words cause you to stop.

“It’s too early for me to consider terminating this pregnancy,” you admit. “I need time.”

Jungkook understands your perspective. It’s not a decision you lightly take, especially if you’ve come to this clinic to have a child. It’d be completely absurd to abort after going through this entire process.

“Of course,” he says. “But I want you to know my point of view.”

You nod, understanding his perspective as well. This is such a horrible situation. Jungkook wanted to have an heir while you simply wanted to have a child on your own. On top of that, he doesn’t look like the donor you selected.

“So if I decide to keep it, would you be out?” you ask.

Jungkook considers your words. There’s a possibility that the baby could still exist, but he wouldn’t be part of their life. He’d still be losing because he wants a child, but at least this way, his position wouldn’t be jeopardized, and no one would get hurt or killed.  

“It’s possible,” he honestly answers.

You nod once more. Even though he decides not to be part of his child’s life, he’d still know that he has a kid somewhere. He wouldn’t have any trouble finding you; he already knows your smell, and he has the means to find you.

“Okay,” you say.

Jungkook watches you take a pen and paper from your purse before writing something.

“This is my phone number,” you hand him the piece of paper. “In case you change your mind or take a decision.”

The man takes the piece of paper while you give him a small smile. You start walking away, his eyes following you until you disappear inside a car.

In this situation, he definitely would like to ask his mother for advice, but he can’t. He already knows the answer she’ll give him. ‘This baby can’t exist.’ And she’s right, but he can’t force you to terminate the pregnancy. It’s your body after all.

In the eventuality that you decide to proceed with the pregnancy, he guesses he’ll let you be a mother alone and pretend like this kid doesn’t exist.

You’ve spent the last two days crying in bed. The conversation with the doctor and this mysterious Mister Jeon has been playing over and over in your head. You can still picture everything so clearly; the white walls of the doctor’s room, the apologies from the doctor, and Mister Jeon’s piercing gaze.

‘There’s been a mistake,’ ‘There was a mix-up with the sample,’ the words still echo in your mind.

You’ve been trying to make sense of how such a monumental mistake has happened. But nothing seems to make sense. The clinic did this; the clinic took control over your decision. This chapter of your life was about you gaining control, but once more, someone decided for you. It’s been making you angry.

You’re furious at the clinic and their negligence. You trusted them with your project of building your own family. However, they decided otherwise.  

But underneath that anger, there’s another fury; one directed to yourself. You were so focused on having a child on your own terms that you didn’t stop to consider the what-ifs. You didn’t stop to consider that something might go wrong. And now, you are here.    

You’ve been staring at the ceiling for hours now, your mind trying to find a solution. Do you keep this baby? Do you terminate the pregnancy?

This choice feels impossible. It feels like no matter what your life will completely change.  

But deep down, you somehow feel some kind of relief. Because when Mister Jeon—this intense and charismatic man—said there was a possibility he’d walk away, that he’d leave you to raise this child alone, you felt lighter.

His potential absence is appealing. It aligns with your original choice, to be a single mother. A choice where your child is yours, and yours alone. But then, there’s also a possibility where he stays, or that he comes back later. What would happen then?

You press your hands against your face while a guttural growl leaves your lips. This is so damn frustrating. This should be simple. Because now, you’re left wondering what you want. Do you want to walk away from this and stick to the original plan? Or do you want to embrace this chaos, and see where this might lead?

Your hands slide down to your stomach, caressing it while you hear again the tiny heartbeat. This sound comforts you which makes you close your eyes.

For now, you don’t have any answers to all your questions. You’re not even sure you’ll have them tomorrow. For now, you’ll let yourself breathe. You’ll let yourself feel. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find the answers.  

The sound of your phone ringing pushes you out of your own thoughts, informing you that you received a message. You sit on your bed before grabbing the phone on the nightstand. You received a message from an unknown number. By curiosity, you unlock your phone to read it. To your surprise, it’s the famous and mysterious Mister Jeon.  

From unknown: hi miss y/l/n, this is jeon jungkook, the father of your child. i’d like to meet you to discuss the matter. would you be free tonight?

Your heart hammers inside your chest, ready to burst at any second. He contacted you sooner than expected. You were thinking that you wouldn’t hear anything from him for at least a week. You thought you’d have more time to make a decision before meeting him. Now, it seems you don’t, and that you’ll have a very interesting conversation with him tonight.

With shaky hands, you start typing your answer.

To unknown: hello mister jeon, we could meet tonight

When you press ‘send’, you stare at the conversation, waiting for an answer. Mister Jeon responds instantly to your message, proposing to meet in a town square. You accept the suggestion and quickly go to your clothes cupboard to pick up an outfit.

The man seems very impressive, and you want to be presentable. He’s after all the progenitor of the life growing inside you.

A couple of hours later, you take the road to the meeting point. Surprisingly, you’ve remained calm for the entire drive. Driving is actually the only thing able to calm your tormented soul. Whenever you go through something very intense, you just drive to clear your mind.

However, since this pregnancy thing, even driving hasn’t been able to help you out. You tried to drive yesterday, but it only made things worse. So it definitely surprises you that you’ve been able to clear your mind before meeting Mister Jeon.

When you arrive, he’s already there waiting for you. He’s not wearing a suit, quite the contrary. His outfit is only made of a grey sweater with a blue pair of jeans. His hair isn’t perfectly pushed back as it was two days ago. It feels like you’re meeting a completely different person.

When he sees you, he stands up. As he does so, you notice he holds a box in his right hand. It’s a small one, but it still intrigues you.

“Good evening, miss y/l/n,” he says.

“Good evening, mister Jeon,” you say back.

His presence is still very imposing, but the fact that he isn’t wearing a suit anymore changes it a bit. He seems more approachable than he was in the clinic.

“Please call me Jungkook,” he offers you a small smile.

It’s the first time you see him smiling, and it feels like a very warm one. Beneath it all and in the midst of the city noise, you can perceive his heartbeat. It’s quite rapid which makes you tilt your head. Is he nervous?

“You can call me yn as well,” you smile back at him.  

“I’ve brought you a box with some pastries,” he hands you the box. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

Your smile grows wider at his simple but heartwarming gesture. This wasn’t expected, but it lightens the mood. Jungkook seems to be a nice person which contrasts with the cold and unreadable person he seemed two days ago.

“Thanks,” you say while grabbing the little box. “You didn’t need to,” your eyes look up at him.

After that, you both sit down on the bench he was on before you arrived. By the way he rubs his hands on his tights, you can tell that he’s a bit nervous. You try not to overanalyze him, because you know your mind will go crazy, full of questions.

“What is happening is really crazy,” he admits with obvious nervousness. “I never imagined things would go this way,” you nod.

Jungkook looks everywhere, except at you. It seems like he isn’t brave enough to face you, almost like a teenager confessing his love.

“As I told you two days ago, I can’t have this child,” he finally speaks. “I really would love to, but I’d put the three of us in danger.”

Your heart starts beating rapidly. What does he mean by ‘putting you in danger’? Does he come from a crazy family? Is he part of the mafia? This is scaring the hell out of you.

“We didn’t know each other up until two days ago, and you don’t deserve to be put in danger because of a stupid mistake the clinic did,” he seems angry when he mentions the mistake. “But I can’t force you to terminate the pregnancy, it’s your body, and it was also your wish to have a child. I can’t take that away from you.”

It kind of surprises you how respectful he is. Any other man in his position could have forced or paid you to put an end to this pregnancy. It’s really admirable.

“In case you want to keep going with it, I just want you to know that I’ll step away, and I will never come back to reclaim a role I refused from the beginning.”

You wonder what the reasons behind his decision could be. This man desired to have a child but is now refusing to have one with you because of a mistake.

“To be honest with you, I don’t know what to do,” you admit.

His piercing eyes finally look at you. For a split second, you can swear that they were red. Red like blood. This destabilizes you, and you furrow your eyebrows. You’re not sure if you’re being delirious or if this is real.

“I wanted to become a mother, but not like this,” you continue, still destabilized by what you just saw. “So it leaves me wondering what I should do. But if you walk away, I’ll be more tempted to keep the baby because, in the end, it’ll go as I planned.”

In an unexplainable way, this man puts you at ease. It feels like you can confess how you truly feel about this situation without being judged by him. This man exudes serenity which draws you even more to him.

“I get that,” he says.

For a brief moment, you only look at him while your heart peacefully beats in your chest. His dark eyes stare right into your soul, and it feels like the world completely stopped. There’s just the two of you. But Jungkook breaks the contact, looking in another direction.

“If you decide to keep the child and need any financial help, I can give it to you,” he speaks.

This man definitely seems like a good guy, and you wonder even more why he’s walking away from this.

“I won’t,” you answer. “I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t have any means to take care of the baby.”

For sure you need financial stability to be a single mother, and you would have never embarked on this adventure without having it.

Jungkook runs his fingers through his fluffy hair, avoiding still your gaze. “Can I ask why you want to become a single mom?”

The question catches you off guard. You weren’t expecting this man—this stranger—to be interested in you.

“I didn’t have an easy life and I grew up without my parents,” you confess. “Motherhood was something I aspired to have in my life since I’m very young, and I’ve desired to give to my child everything I didn’t have. No matter if it was with someone or alone.”

Your eyes shift from Jungkook to the square full of people. It’s never easy to express out loud and to a complete stranger why you embarked on this adventure. Mentioning your parents is actually never easy; even after all this time.

Suddenly, you feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you in complete silence. For once in your life, people’s heartbeats and scents don’t suffocate you. You can hear and smell them, but it’s like it doesn’t matter.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve had those developed skills. You can hear stuff from afar, and you can strongly smell people’s natural body’s scent. Since it’s kind of ‘normal’ to you, you got used to it; but sometimes, and especially when you’re in the middle of heavy crowds, it suffocates you. It becomes simply too much.

This is something you never told anyone, too scared to be judged. Undoubtedly, people would say you’ve gone crazy due to the trauma of losing your parents. Not even Felix or Lexi knows about it. They just think you’re agoraphobic.

However, lately, you’ve been trying to go to some crowded place to overcome this suffocating feeling. You ignore why you’ve been doing it, but you’ve been doing it. It’s still too much, but today, next to this complete stranger, it doesn’t feel like it.

“I’m sorry you lost your parents,” he whispers.

You turn to look at him to offer him a little smile.

“Thanks,” you mumble. “Can I also ask you why you’re doing this?” you dare to ask.

Jungkook nods before looking away once more. It definitely looks like it’s hard for him to hold your gaze.

“In my world,” he starts saying. “I have heavy responsibilities, and having a child is one of them. But I can’t have one with anybody. I’m very limited in who is the biological mother so that’s why I can’t have one with you.”

You almost feel offended by his words. In which kind of world can’t you be the mother of his child? It’s completely crazy!

“Oh,” you simply say.

“You could have been the surrogate…” you can hear some kind of chuckle. “But never the progenitor.”

“It’s seems like a tough world.”

His eyes look again at you; you can see that he seems to hesitate with the answer.

“It isn’t,” he finally says. “But it is with me.”

Obviously, he carefully chose his words.

“Well, I hope you’ll find the right mother for your child,” you offer him once more a little smile.

“Thanks,” he smiles back at you.

The two of you look back again at the people walking in the town square. They are walking around you, ignoring totally what you’re going through, what tough decision you have to make. They ignore everything about you, just as you ignore everything about them…  

“I’m sorry about all of this,” he adds.

“It’s not your fault,” you answer. “It’s the clinic’s.”

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably, his gaze fixed on the people walking in front of you. His heart is racing and piercing through your ears. He’s even more nervous than he was before, and it concerns you a bit. But you don’t say anything, too afraid to scare him off if you reveal you can hear his heartbeat.  

“Yn…” he starts. “There’s something you need to know,” his voice is deep and low at the same time. It’s so low that it almost drowns out by the distant chatter of people passing by.

You turn to look at him, your brow furrowing. “Okay,” you whisper.  

Jungkook takes a deep breath, his jaw tightening before he exhales. His eyes don’t meet yours immediately, but when he does, there’s an intensity that makes your stomach twist.

“When I said my world is different,” he swallows with difficulty. “I don’t mean it in a metaphorical sense. My world, my reality is not the same as yours.”

You frown even more, confusion plastered all over your face. You’re definitely incredibly confused. How could his world be different than yours? You live on the same planet, and breathe the same air. How could it be not the same?  

“What do you mean?”

Jungkook gets closer, his voice dropping even lower, barely audible. However, you still hear it perfectly.

“I am not entirely human, yn.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You stare at him while waiting for him to elaborate. However, Jungkook just stares at you, waiting for your reaction.

“What do you mean by ‘not entirely human’?” you tilt your head.

For a couple of seconds, he doesn’t speak, almost as if he’s scared to reveal his true nature to you.

“I’m a werewolf.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and impossible to ignore. It leaves you wondering if this man is of sound mind. Right now, you’re slightly concerned about his mental health, and the future of your child, if you keep them.

Your first reaction is to laugh, dismissing his words as if it is some kind of twisted joke. But the look on his face tells you that he’s deadly serious. This isn’t a joke.

“A werewolf?” you repeat to make sure you hear it well.

Jungkook nods. He looks tense and he maintains his deep glance on you.

“It’s why I can’t have this child,” he starts to explain. “In my world, bloodlines matter. Werewolf bloodlines are sacred, and the continuation of my lineage isn’t just about having a child. It’s about having the right child with the right kind of mother.”

The weight of his words crashes over you like a tidal wave. You stand up, your hands running through your hair. Your mind is spinning, and your pulse thunders in your ears. This is something you definitely weren’t expecting to hear today.

Werewolves? You’re carrying the child of a werewolf?

This sounds like it comes straight from a fantasy movie.

“This doesn’t feel real,” you whisper to yourself but Jungkook hears it.  

“I didn’t want you to be dragged into this world, but you deserve the truth.”

You keep your back turned to him while you cross your arms against your chest.

“This is something you need to consider if you decide to keep the baby.”

At his words, you freeze. Instinctively, your hands down move to your stomach. Jungkook’s eyes follow your hands.

“Is this…” your voice trembles. “Is this a viable child?”

If you want to keep going with this pregnancy, you need to know if this baby can survive.

“There wouldn’t be any reason why this child wouldn’t survive because of mixed blood,” he stands up and gets close to you. “But as they grow up, they’ll develop werewolf abilities. And, one day, they’ll probably turn into one. It’s pretty unpredictable, though. There’s never been a human-werewolf hybrid before.”

Damn, this is leaving you speechless. How can this be real? Werewolves are supposed to exist in movies, not in real life.   

“This is insane,” you rub your hands on your face. “This can’t be real.”

Jungkook steps closer. His presence is grounding but nonetheless overwhelming.  

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” you demand, your voice filled with panic.  

Before you can blink, he gets even closer to you. He’s in front of you in an instant, his hand gently grabbing yours. Your eyes look down at his hand as you notice it changing. His fingers elongate, his nails sharpen into claws, and the texture of his skin turns into something more beastly. Slowly, your eyes look up, and what you see completely freezes your body.  His eyes glow a deep, predatory red, and there’s something undeniably wolfish about them.

You take a step back while setting your hand free. As you do so, Jungkook shifts back, his hand returns to its normal form, and his eyes fade back to a human form. The transformation is so quick that it almost feels like you imagined it.

“So what happens now?” you ask.

Jungkook’s gaze softens at your words.

“That depends on you, yn.”

Please note that the taglist is closed

[robinsgrl]

FEARLESS

chapter four. doors and burgers

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pairing ⇢ rafe cameron x plus size!reader

word count ⇢ 2.2k

warnings ⇢ fatphobia, insecurities, panic attack, boobies lol, Scarlett should be her own warning, daddy issues,

authors note ⇢ sorry that i messed up on my last post yall!! i confused scarlett with heather. she was supposed to be Heather but i was like….. heathers get too much crap thank you conan 😒 and i forgot to change it lol sorry!!! also i rewrote this like five times and i this was the one i was most satisfied with, so enjoy!!

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Scarlett leaves from what you can tell. People are talking about the kitchen debacle and there are mixed reviews. Some are still kissing Scarlett’s ass, others don’t like her any longer. But it doesn’t seem anyone’s on your side. You’re still invisible. You’ve since taken off your jacket that was drenched and Rafe has given you his. It’s big but it doesn’t cover you entirely, and that makes you feel so damn embarrassed.

Despite your mission being to get Jonah to see you, neither of you can find him anywhere. Kiara and Sarah had their eyes out for him as well but they’ve since lost the mission at hand. Now, you’re all sat in the living room where there are a few people dancing around Sarah who’s singing obnoxiously bad on the karaoke machine. No one has any idea where it came from but everyone is loving it.

You’re clapping along with Kiara, laughing when Sarah messes up another lyric and blames the song. For the first time in what seems like a long time, Rafe isn’t drinking. He isn’t doing much of anything but staying by your side. He’s sitting beside you, watching his sister with amusement. He refuses to clap though, only doing it when you reach over to lift his hands and make him clap.

It’s Kiara’s turn to sing when you get up off the couch and look for the bathroom in the huge figure 8 house. The home has photographs scattered, a happy family shown in them all. It might just be the beer in you that makes you want to cry. You’ve seen the kid around school before and he isn’t anything to you. Anything at all. But you’re wishing him the best. Yeah, you realize it’s the beer.

You stumble into a random room and let out a screech when a body gets up from a bed.

“What are you doing here?” Jonah’s voice sends a flutter through your belly. Your belly. Your stomach. You take a hold of Rafe’s jacket and tighten it around yourself, hiding your body from the guy you want badly.

“Oh… uhm…” you wipe the tears from your eyes that had bled out at the family pictures. “I’m looking for the bathroom.”

He’s immediately up on his feet at the sight of your tears. Your eyes widen when his hands take a hold of your round face and examines you carefully. “Are you okay? Why are you crying?”

Your breath hitches at the feel of his warm hand. It’s soft. Far too soft for a man who puts his all into the gym and football. “Oh? I… uhm… haha, what? Yeah? I'm… I’m fine. Just…” you sniffle and gently move his hand from your face. You’re refusing to meet his eyes,shy about your sadness. “The pictures… they look so happy.”

The look on his face makes you want to run away. And then, he laughs. “You’re crying because Tommy and his family look happy?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, stuck. “It’s not a bad thing.” Are his words when he seems to realize how stunned you feel. “It’s… adorable.”

You fumble your words, “oh, I, uhm, yeah, okay, that’s… yeah.” To have the guy you’ve been into for years call you such a word is a rush. A scary one. But you like it. And whatever it is you did, you wish you could keep doing it until he saw you as you saw him. Perfect.

You’re still standing by the door of the random bedroom and it’d be easy to just run off. But you can’t. Making a fool of yourself in front of Jonah will only make your plan harder. And Rafe would kill you for letting his effort go to waste. “What are you doing in here?” It comes out more abrasive than you wished, internally scolding yourself.

But he doesn’t seem to mind. Rather, he takes his seat back on the bed and shrugs. “It’s noisy.”

You understand. You really, really do. And you want to say it aloud but your tongue is tied as you watch him throw his head back, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows gently. After a moment, you semi-gather yourself. “Did you leave cause of Sarah?” You joke lightly. “That’s what made me leave.”

This garners a soft laugh out of him and you want to jump up and squeal. But Rafe told you to act nonchalant. “Yeah, she’s certainly… singing.”

You take one step away from the door. Just one. You were going to sit beside him. You were going to talk to him. Really talk to him.

The door behind you swings open and hits your head. Hard. “What the fuck?” Jonah’s quick on his feet, rushing to you in a panic. You turn to look at the culprit and your frown turns into a glare. Rafe.

“What the fuck, Rafe?!” You hiss, sending a punch to his shoulder.

“Why were you standing so near the door?!”

“Why would you swing it open like a maniac?!”

“It’s not my fault you were standing there—“

“Maybe don’t open doors like that—“

“Oh, shut up, do you ever not complain—“

“Says you! You’re, like, the king of complaining—“

“King? King—“

“Should I leave?” Jonah’s soft voice speaks and you shove Rafe’s face as you look at him and smile.

“N-no, you shouldn’t have to. He was just leaving.”

“I was? I don’t— ow, fuck, okay, I’m leaving.”

The mood was ruined. Whatever mood Jonah was in was gone. And so was your confidence. It's awkward as you sit next to him on the bed. The palm of your hands are on your knees, anxiously rubbing at them. He’s laid back on the bed, arm crossed over his eyes, the only thing telling you he’s up is the soft twitch of his fingers.

“Does it hurt?” His voice cuts through the thick silence.

Panicked, you glance over at him with wide eyes. “Does… does what hurt?”

“Your head. He opened the door pretty hard.” He still doesn’t move from his position and you’re grateful he’s not looking at you. You do better when people can’t perceive you.

“Oh, my head… yeah, it’s fine, doesn’t hurt. I-it’s a little sore but I’ll make him pay for it.” You shrug, fixing Rafe’s jacket on your body.

“You two are close.” It’s supposed to be a question. It doesn’t sound like one.

You shake your head despite his eyes being covered up. “Not really. I… he’s nice but we’re not like friends.”

He sits back up and this makes you tense up, looking straight ahead at that damn door you hate now. “Just never seen him with anyone but his same three friends.”

“I’m friends with Sarah. We’re just… around each other more.” It’s a lie. But you don’t believe Rafe would want people to know just how much time you’re really spending together. The less people that know, the better.

“You and Scarlett are really done?” He questions, eyes on you. But you can’t look over at him. You’re stiff and awkward and unsure of how to act around him.

You nod softly, “y-yeah… she’s, uhm, not a very nice person.”

It’s quiet for another moment. “She’s been running her mouth about you. Calling you names. Really bad names. And all you can say is ‘she's not nice’?”

Hearing that she’s still talking about you is a punch to the guy and suddenly you don’t care about your crush. You don’t care that you two are sitting so close to each other. All you can think is how horrible she truly is. How blinded you were. And how stupid you feel for missing her. “Well… just because others are doing bad things, doesn’t mean I should. Be the bigger person and whatnot.” You let out a small and awkward laugh to try and shrug off what you’re really feeling.

“Wow.” Are his words as he gets up off the bed and walks to the dresser of the bedroom and picking up a magazine. “You’re really not like other girls.” An even bigger punch to the gut. Logically, you know he’s trying to be kind. He’s only saying this to make you feel better, your feelings on Scarlett written all over your face.

You don’t wear makeup, not like other girls do. You don’t dress up, not like other girls do. You don’t giggle over guys, not like other girls do. You don’t go out and have fun, not like other girls do. But you want to do it all. You want to be like other girls. You never felt worth it. Lipstick on a pig. You’re too big to fit trendy clothes. You don’t giggle over guys because they’d be disgusted that you’re into them. You don’t go out because you’d be the biggest out of the group of girls that are around you. You’d be an eyesore.

In a frantic move, you get up off the bed. “Right. Well, I, uh… I have to go.”

“Huh? What—“ but you don’t pay any attention to his words as you rush out of the random bedroom. There are kids littering the hallway. The steps are being used as seats, shoving people slightly as you go. The music is loud. Too loud. You can feel it bouncing in your eardrums and filling your already muddled thoughts. Theres nothing you can think about other than getting out of that damn house. And in your panicked stupor, you can’t find the damn. The house is too damn big.

There’s a couple making out in the bathroom when you rush inside and when they see the fear in your eyes, they rush out, leaving you to be.

The drive isn’t awkward. Not like you thought it would be. He didn’t question you. And despite his last text, he didn’t bring it up. And you’re grateful he didn’t.

“Where are we going?” You ask when you realize you’re headed downtown. “I want to go home, Rafe.”

He shrugs, hands on the wheel. “I’m hungry. We’re just stopping by The Wreck real quick.”

He doesn’t ask you to get down with him. He parks, heads inside, and he’s out fifteen minutes later. But he doesn’t start driving. In fact, he immediately takes a bite out of his burger, your food untouched on your lap.

“You’re not gonna eat?” He asks with his mouth full, but you don’t grimace like you should. You grab a napkin and hands it to him but he shakes his head refusing it.

“You’re dirty.”

“And you’re not eating.” He swallows his food.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re lying.”

“So because I'm fat, I must be hungry?” It’s a joke but the look he gives you tells you he’s not amused in the slightest. “Tough crowd. Seriously, I'm not hungry.”

“Is this that thing where you don’t eat in front of people cause you’re with a guy? Sarah told me it’s some shit she does.”

“It’s that thing where I’m not hungry, actually.” But it smells divine. Usually, you’d happily eat this but after tonight, you’re not sure if you’ll ever eat greasy foods again.

He scoffs, putting his burger down and holding a fry up at you. “Try the fry.”

“You try the fry.”

“I already did. Seriously, my mom had this trick while we were growing up. Sarah always swore she wasn’t hungry and wouldn’t get anything to eat but she’d make her try something from the plate to realize how hungry she really was.”

“How old was she?”

“My mom? She was pushing forty.”

You glare at the proud look on his face at his joke. “Sarah, stupid.”

“I don’t know… seven?”

“You’re treating me like a seven year old?”

“Try. The. Fry.” He swipes it across your lips and this gets a laugh out of you, shoving him away.

“Okay, okay! I’ll eat a fry. But that one has lipstick all over it now.” You pick a fry from his and he squints his eyes at you.

“You have a perfectly good batch.”

You pop the fry into your mouth with a content smile. “Not as good as yours.” And he was right. The salt and buttery soft fry proved to be true— you are hungry.

With a sigh, you grab your burger and say— “okay… just… don’t look.”

This amuses him. “Don’t look at you eat your burger? Well, there goes my spank bank.”

“Ew, Rafe!” You laugh, nose scrunching at his crude words.

You take a bite of your burger. And it’s absolutely delicious. Just like you knew it would be. Instead of worrying over stuffed up cheeks or looking fat while eating, you share laughs, mouths full and not a single care.

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[rafesbangs]

𝜗𝜚 bunny!reader has always had a thing for a regular at her bookstore, older!rafe only comes in to see her

c!w; mdni !! older!rafe, dom!rafe, bunny!reader, age-gap (reader is 18+), size kink, rafe gets called 'daddy' a few times, dirty talk, mutual pining obviously, 'unprotected' sex, p in v, creampie, overstimulation (if you squint), cum play, cum eating, oral (f. receiving)

notes; i had such bad writer's block during the making of this so i apologise if this isn't my best work... also its kinda long before the smut but it needed some plot !!

you'd just gotten a job at a new cozy bookstore in town. it was perfect, had rows and rows of every genre of book a person could think of and a lovely little cafe with a cozy area to read in too. you loved working there, and had recently gotten much more comfortable after finally getting the hang of everything.

there were quite a few regulars that would come in for the coffee and a book, lots were mothers with quiet children that would sit down in the children's corner and read, others were just people of all ages that particularly enjoyed sitting in the bookstore for hours.

you were stacking shelves the first time you saw him; tall, gorgeous and smiling slightly under his cute scruffy moustache. he was flicking through the non-fiction books. though he didn't look like someone that read, adorned in workwear and partially grubby clothing, most likely from his blue collar job.

you could tell he was definitely older, around ten years your senior but still so pretty. after that first minor interaction you started seeing him come in a lot more, every other day basically. you'd worked up the courage to say hi to him after a few more times of seeing him and although your face was probably bright red, he smiled wide and started a conversation with you.

after the ice had been broken you would always talk to him when he came into the bookstore, it got to a point where he wasn't even pretending to be interested in the books around him anymore, he obviously had come in there to see you again.

rafe had also started coming in early before work started, he looked so good in his carhartt jacket and big boots, not yet dirty from a days work. he'd make sure you were the one to make his coffee, always mumbling something about you having a secret gift as he grinned, letting his hand linger over yours when he'd take his cup.

the tension between the two of you was palpable, your friends and co-workers would make jokes about how no one needed to read romance books in there anymore, they had a whole story playing out in front of them.

you would always laugh and smile at their comments, smitten over the idea of being with rafe but there was always the lingering thought that it was just friendly flirting. nothing more. he probably had a girlfriend, or a wife or something. he was too old and too gorgeous, why would he actually want anything to do with little old you.

these thoughts had you spiralling significantly on one particular day; what if you were wasting all your time and feelings on this older guy that would never want you? would you ever get over him? would you be alone forever?

you were zoning out - hard - as you slid the last few books of your shift onto the shelf, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw him standing in front of you with a grin.

"sorry, did i give you a fright?" he mumbled, steadying you with his touch, "'thought you'd heard me when i said y'name but there must be s'much goin' on in that head of yours."

you took a breathe and smiled weakly at him, not being able to shake your pessimistic thoughts from seconds before as he stood in front of you, handsome and speaking.

"no, sorry- lots on my mind i guess" you shrugged, fiddling with your fingers. rafe's brow furrowed, he'd seen you stressed and frustrated because of work but never like this, anxious and pensive.

he tilted his head a little, "what's wrong hm?" he softly coaxed, looking deep into your eyes as he reached out and rubbed your arm with his thumb.

you looked up at him through your lashes, "nothing.. nothing really..." you mumbled, chewing your lip a little.

his gaze darkened as he watched you, "something you wanna ask me bunny?"

you shook your head after shuddering at the nickname. a nickname only rafe used with you, it never failed to give you goosebumps down your body and cause your thighs to squeeze together a little, "don't worry.. er, i'm about to close up in a minute - you don't mind walking me to my car do you?"

his pursed lips melted into a smile and he looked up for a second before nodding. you smiled at him before finally putting away the last few things and grabbing the bookstore's keys. rafe followed you out as you left the store and locked the doors from the outside.

"cold tonight hmm" rafe remarked, looking out at the dim parking lot and neighbouring streets as he walked close to you. you hummed in agreement, readjusting the jacket tighter around you.

when you finally reached your car you looked up at him with a longing smile before he tilted his head, grinning at you, "you gonna tell me what you were thinking about earlier?"

you shook your head, nerves chewing at your lip again.

"c'mon, 'm not gonna see you tomorrow, 'ts your day off bunny, can't make me just wonder all this time hm?" he playfully whined, inching his body closer to yours. you were a little stunned by his words.

"you remember my day off's tomorrow?" the nerves were rising in your tummy now, bubbling around and exploding.

he smirked, sliding your hand into his, "course i'd know when the only reason i go into that bookshop isn't there."

"rafe" you gushed, covering your face a little and shaking your head. you couldn't believe your ears, you thought you weren't stupid or anything but here you were, hearing that he wanted you the whole time. "i thought you were just.. i don't know, entertaining the idea of me this whole time..."

his lips parted and brow furrowed as if it was completely incomprehensible that he might've not actually wanted you, "bunny... you must be talking pure shit now because i thought i'd made it obvious i wanted you from the second i'd gotten to know you."

you chewed at your lip, heat pooling in your tummy as he instinctively inched closer to you as he spoke. all you wanted to do now was jump his bones, and you kept glancing down at the bulge in his pants as it became closer and closer to you.

he noticed your wandering eyes and laughed a little, throwing his head back before sliding both hands up your arms carefully, "...so you said you don't have heating huh?"

you nodded, feeling dizzy at the realisation of what he was about to ask you.

he scoffed with a grin, "see, i've got heating at my place that works pretty well, and - bunny, with the way you're looking at me right now, i think we're better off going there."

you smiled, staring up at him through your lashes before nodding and in an instant he'd grabbed your hand, leading you to his truck. the drive was probably fairly quick, but it felt like hours of agony to the both of you as you patiently waited. rafe's hand was possessively gripping your thigh and you felt wetness in your panties thinking about where else his hands would trail to.

it was a blur, stumbling out of his truck and into his house, you barely looked at the place before the two of you, sloppy and all over each other, had made it to his bedroom. your body was on vibrate but he took a second to take his huge jacket and long sleeve shirt off.

you breathed heavily, eyes widening when street light through the window illuminated his toned chest, he was built like a greek god and you nearly moaned at the thought of all that being all over you.

he teasingly peeled your clothes off, article by article, grinning all the way. he could see you twitching and heavily breathing at every movement, it only fuelled him more.

finally you were in nothing but panties and a bra, matching of course, which made rafe's eyes go wild, "jesus, look at you." he breathed, running his hands along the side of your body as you lay under him.

you slid your arms around his neck and tried to pull him in but he grinned at your lack of strength and you frowned playfully, squirming at the lack of action.

"you gonna ask nicely bunny?" his lips were centimetres away from yours, he was really enjoying teasing you now.

"please... please i want you inside me so bad" you whined, pouting and running your hands into his shaggy mullet. he smirked and leaned in, passionately pressing his lips to yours, engulfing you in heat.

your hands pulled at his jeans, ripping down the zipper as you slid a palm across his clothed cock, gasping at his lips over how big you found him to be.

he tugged himself out of his boxers before lowering down to your core, you burned with desire as you watched the greek god looming over you, slowly bully his cock into your weeping hole.

you groaned at the feeling, his cock slowly slipping all the way down, filling you to the hilt. your grip around his neck tightened, along with his hands holding you steady at your hips.

he drilled into you at an unrelenting pace, the sound of his cock diving in and out of your wet pussy causing him to groan gutturally, "uhghh, you like this big cock baby? c'mon, tell me you've been thinking about daddy's cock since you met me hmm"

you eyes were rolling back, the pleasure becoming too much already, "mmmh i think about daddy's cock all the time... oh! fuuuck."

you looked down at your tummy, a clear huge bulge poking everytime rafe drove his dick into you, only making you dizzier. he was just so big.

a creamy line of arousal was thick around the base of rafe's cock, your breath all ragged as he continued to drill into you, toying with your clit to overstimulate you.

you were shaking under him, one hand gripping onto a bicep and the other tugging the sheets beside you. the sheer girth of him was splitting you open, rafe grinned at the yelps escaping your lips with every thrust.

"pussy's swallowing me whole, fuck bunny" he grunted into your lips, launching in for yet another seering kiss while his thrusts became sloppy but deeper. plap-plap-plap filled the room along with your pornographic moans.

"nghh daddy, i'm- oh, g'na cum!" you cried, nails digging into his flesh.

he was panting into your neck, "'know baby, can feel your pussy milking me- fuuuuuck" you felt the rush of your orgasm as rafe's thick white ropes coated your insides. he continued to thrust into you a few more times, watching your pussy swallow all his cum before pulling out.

"such a good bunny, look at that shit.." he mumbled, dragging a finger over your wet whole, playing with and pushing his release back into you. "so wet..."

he dipped his head down, lapping up both your juices that had coated your folds. you twitched from the sensation, still recovering from his cock.

"rafeee- oh god- too sensitive.." you whined, hand laced in his hair. he lifted his head and looked at you with a grin, his moustache gleaming with wetness.

"oh bunny now that i've had you, shit, i'm never letting my little girl go."

[finelinevogue]

world’s best husband

summary - aaron’s out for an event but he comes back home early for you

✾ word count - ~1k

✾ pairing - aaron hotchner x wife!reader

[idk what this is but i had an idea & ran with it…]

It was half past midnight and your eyes were becoming heavy.

You were curled up on the sofa. A soft blanket was thrown over your legs, a half drunk cup of tea on the coffee table and the background noise of a random sitcom playing on the TV.

The lamps were switched on, because you couldn't even comprehend the idea of sitting alone in the dark - that's just not okay.

Aaron was out with his BAU colleagues for some formal event where they hand out people awards for their achievements from the year - regardless of whether they're significant or not. Aaron was up for some award to do with being a great leader. As if he didn't already know - or at least he should given the 'World's Best Boss' mug that he had sitting on his desk.

So when you heard the lock click open on the front door your eyes suddenly didn't feel heavy.

You open up your phone really quickly and opened the app where you could track Aaron.

It took a few seconds to load and when it did it said that his last recorded location was where the awards ceremony was being held and that was recorded 30 minutes ago.

"Fuck." You swore to yourself.

And then immediately calmed down when you heard the drop of house keys in the small bowl next to the front door.

Would a burglar deposit keys before robbing?

Next you heard a coat being undone and hung up on the creaky cloak stand you had in the hallway.

Would a murderer take off a coat before murdering?

When you heard someone walk across the wooden floorboards you nervously poked your head above the sofa to see who it was - and obviously it was Aaron like you hoped it would be.

“You dick!” You shouted, sitting up from your slouched position.

Aaron jumped out of his skin, placing a hand over his chest as he gasped, “Jesus…” He started to mumble under his breath.

“What the hell are you doing home?” You asked. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I texted you I was coming back.” He said, running a hand over his chin as he brought himself down from a heart attack.

You double checked your texts then to make sure.

“Uh, no you didn’t.” You waved your empty messaged in front of his face.

Aaron frowned.

You often teased him that he would gain permanent frown lines if he kept that facial expression up, yet he persisted in using it. Some of his colleagues teased him that it was his superpower.

You watched your husband check his phone let out a hum of disbelief when he realised you were right.

“No idea who that text went to then.” He sighed, tucking his phone back in his pocket.

You couldn’t help but smirk then, trying to cover it up by bringing the plush blanket up to hide yourself. Your eyes must’ve given you away though.

“What?” Aaron asked, clearly unimpressed.

“Nothing.” You tried to get rid of your smile and bury yourself further into the sofa.

Aaron tried to hide a smile by biting the inside of his cheek. He wanted to maintain neutral, that much you knew, but his little dimple was his tell.

He walked slowly over to you and stood next to the sofa, you having now slunk so far down that you were laying on your back hiding behind your blanket.

You couldn’t help but get slightly turned on with him standing so tall above you, hands on his hips as he watched you. His hair was slightly disheveled - a tell that he’d had at least one drink - and his tie was slightly crooked.

“To think I came home early for you.” He shook his head.

“You what?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, pulling the blanket down so your face was exposed.

“The event was…” He pulled a face which meant that it was definitely a shit event.

“Aaron…”

“What?”

“You might’ve won an award.” You tutted.

“Oh, I left after I won that. It’s in the hallway next to my ‘World’s Best Husband’ trophy.” He nodded his head towards the hallway.

“You better not replace your trophy with that award.”

It might be a gag joke that you gifted him, but it was a damn well truthful gift and you wanted everyone who walked into your house to know it - hence why it was in the hallway.

“I’d never.” He produced a real smile this time and you smile back.

“Wait!”

You sat up really quickly, the blanket falling down to reveal you were wearing his t-shit - just his t-shirt.

“What?” Aaron chuckled.

You quickly stood up on the sofa, nearly falling over it hadn’t been for your husband’s hand gently steadying your hip.

You threw your arms around his neck as you stood a tiny bit taller than him on the sofa. Aaron’s arms immediately enclosed around your waist, holding you tight against his chest.

“You won?” You whispered against his lips, giving him a soft kiss.

One of Aaron’s hands got distracted and wandered up the back of the t-shirt, snaking up your bare skin and planting itself against the dimples at the bottom of your spine.

“Mhm.” He smiled, humming when that earned him another kiss from you.

His eyes twinkled with the joy that you were filling the room with. Seeing you happy like this was better than any award he could receive.

“I knew you would. I’m very proud.”

Both of your spoke softly as if it wasn’t just you two in the house.

Even in your quietest of moments, you love was exceptionally loud.

“Thank you.” He kissed you this time, feeling like he’d earned it.

Your hand scrunched the hair on the back of his neck as you pushed yourself into the kiss.

Aaron’s hand moved down from the bottom of your back to move down over your panties, cupping your ass and leaving his hand there.

You pulled away from him when you felt his hand there, raising your eyebrow at him as if to ask what he was doing.

“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow back.

“You already got a reward this evening with that award.” You patted his hand away and off your ass, much to his disappointment.

“Y/N…”

“No, no, Sir,” You pushed his face away as he tried to sneak another kiss from you.

“Sir?”

“No.”

“Why am I being punished?”

“You scared me, before.” You said like that explained everything.

“Wha�� Would a burglar drop the keys off after entering?” He sarcastically asked, making you think back to when you had the exact same thought before.

“Pfft.”

You climbed back down onto the sofa, burying yourself underneath the blanket again.

Of course Aaron had to follow you down by crouching so he was face to face with you again.

You pouted and twisted around in your spot, facing the back of the sofa. Your body language was clearly shouting ‘leave me alone’ but both you and Aaron knew you were only messing around.

So it was no surprise when you felt him move the neck of the t-shirt you were wearing down slightly, exposing the back of your neck. It was a surprise when his lips met the back of your neck, kissing ever so delicately as if he weren’t there at all.

You closed your eyes as his lips continued to kiss your skin - now that he new you weren’t opposed to the gesture. The sensitive skin along with his hot breath make you feel shaky. Your breaths were turning slightly erratic and you had to grip onto the blanket to ground yourself.

“Aaron..” You whispered.

“Mm?” He continued to kiss you, moving around the side of your neck until he found that spot you like - using his teeth this time.

“I can’t remember why I’m pretending to be mad.”

He chuckled and the sensation made your skin ripple, your back arching and your toes curling.

That was it. You’d had enough.

You rolled back over and used your hands on his cheeks to quickly guide his face to yours, kissing him with everything you had. All the adrenaline from earlier and heightened body senses you had came crashing over you and forcing you into the messiest of kisses.

Aaron pulled back for just a second.

“Bed?” He asked.

“I don’t care.”

“Sofa it is.” He chuckled, going back to kissing you.

Yeah.

He would always be the ‘World’s Best Husband’.

[bluem1lls]

hii, could you write a one-shot where se-mi fucks fem reader after an argument/angry? like including really rough sex, degradation, hair pulling, a strap, etc, anything you feel comfortable with. im sorry if this is too horny this is my ovulation week 💔

✧₊⁺ but you belong to me

se-mi x fem!reader

authors note: so clearly, this is very much headcanon shdjdjj i tried mixing both together and this came out! thank you so much to both for the request and i hope u like it!

✦ synopsis: you're so in love with your best friend that is not really a surprise when you two fight because she wants to hookup with a random girl.

but as she sees you sitting next to nam-gyu, talking so close, she needs to show you who you belong to.

content: minors dni, best friends to lovers, jealous se-mi (AAAA), smut, strap on, dom!se-mi x sub! reader, bathroom sex, fingering/oral (r!receiving), slight choking and degradation, hair pulling

i can't believe my anger lead me to this pathetic path.

sitting here, with nam-gyu. that's like... as low as you can get.

"why are you here, doll?" he says, staring at me. "like, don't get me wrong, i'm happy that you decided i'm the best option to hang out but... don't you have a little bodyguard that you're always with?"

i frown as i stare at a blank point. "she decided it's best to go fuck a random girl than staying with her best friend"

se-mi and i have been best friends since senior year from high school. we did everything together, that even lead to eachother being our first kiss for example, but we always said it was a way to experiment, for when the real time comes.

of course, that didn't stopped me from falling for my best friend.

so when we met this new waitress at our usual coffee shop that couldn't stop poiting "how pretty se-mi's piercings are", i didn't liked her.

i was hugging se-mi, feeling cold and confused as she broke our hug to chat with a random girl. random! girl!

that's was so mean of her.

i mean, she has no idea of the feelings i have for her but... she can't be that blind?

right?

so, that lead to us fighting at se-mi's house afterwards, where we were having the last hangout of the year with our group and a few others.

the 'fight' being me telling her how much i didn't liked this new girl as she replied by scoffing and rolling her eyes.

like always.

that brings me to present time. where, the party has already started. i can see se-mi talking and laughing with this girl (she even invited her, i can't believe it!) while im sitting next to nam-gyu, a boy who i know she really fucking hates but just got used to his presence because we're in the same friend group.

"i think the word you're looking for is jealous" he keeps with the conversation. he chuckles as i stare at him like he was insane.

"don't say that. i'm not jealous. i just think it's stupid that i tell her 'oh hey don't hook up with her, she gives me bad vibes' and she still goes for it!" i tell him gesturing with my hands, getting angry all over again.

"you're too pretty to be jealous, doll" nam-gyu says, staring at me.

"maybe not more than a random blonde" i mumble, covering my face.

"hey listen. we might not get along great, but" he says, removing my hands out of my face, making me stare him. "you're the most gorgeous girl in this trashy party" we both chuckle.

i smile, thankful. he's actually making me feel better.

"thanks, i can't believe i'm saying this but... you're actually a decent person" i spoke, smiling.

he grins as one of his hands goes to grab a strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ear.

as he was getting close, a hand grabs the neck of his shirt from behind and pulls him away.

"what the fuck do you think you're doing?" se-mi says to him, her face twisted in anger and betray. her stare now focus on me as she frowns. "were you going to kiss him? for real?" she scoffs as she lets nam-gyu free of her hold and sarcastically chuckles.

i stare at her, confusion all over my face.

what was she talking about?

getting up from the couch, i stand in front of her.

"i don't get it. if i get in between your hookup i'm a bitch but you interrumpt a conversation and you're a heroe?" i say close to her face. we're standing a few inches apart. i can feel her breath on my face. i know she's mad. she has the same harsh look everytime thanos or nam-gyu say something that she doesn't like, before punching them.

but i'm not used to her staring at me that way.

"this is ridiculous. we're all having a good time. we'll talk about this later" i say turning around, heading to the bathroom.

i can hear her loud steps following me as i enter to the bathroom. she pushes the door before i can close it and enters, closing the door behind her.

she walks towards me, taking a deep breath as she stares my features. annoyance is clear on her face.

"what the fuck? nam-gyu? that's who you choose to go for, out of all the people here?" her expression growing with irritation.

"oh i'm sorry, i thought you were too busy with the blondie to notice my presence!"

"what are you talking about?" she says like i'm insane. "why does she makes you so angry? you never aprove of anyone i try to hookup." she says, scoffing.

"well, im just looking out for you"

"bullshit." se-mi replies, her expression growing angrier "you push me away, you flirt with nam-gyu-"

"flirt with nam-gyu?" i say, stopping her mid-sentence, confused. "what are you talking about? i wasn't flirting with him!"

"you were. you literally let him get close to you, touch your hair"

"you do that, my friends sometimes do that, i thought it was friendly" i shrugged. was he really flirting with me? "i didn't noticed. i promise"

she gazes into my eyes and looks for any sign of a lie in my face. her stare softens once she sees that i'm not lying to her. she steps closer to me, her body still tense.

"it made me so angry seeing you with him" she said, avoiding my eyes. "i thought you were trying to make me jealous on purpose and.." she stops and pins me against the wall. "it was driving me crazy"

my heart beats like crazy, i feel my cheeks heating up from how close she's standing to me.

"wh-why did it drive you crazy?"

her eyes becoming darker, filled with possessiveness. her raw voice, talks in a low tone.

"why do you think? i want you. all the times i hate seeing someone else get too close to you? i knew i was a little too much overprotective over you but," she stops, lifting my chin so i can stare into her eyes. "tonight? you ignoring me and talking to him instead? made my blood boil. i wanted to bend you against the table and fuck you right then and there so everyone can see who owns you."

i felt a heat set on my lower stomach, my panties becoming soaked for her words. i bit my lip as my stare drops to her lips.

her breath hitches. she swallows hard while closing the distance between us, trapping me against her and the wall. her lips capture mine with a kiss, her hands roaming all through my body as she settles on my throat, squeezing to remove air from my lungs. my hand wraps around her bicep, squeezing it one the choking becomes too much.

the kiss turning into a hungry, desesperate one. deepening as her tongue enters my mouth.

"you have no idea how much i want you" i moan in between kisses as her hands lower to my waist.

"if you keep saying things like that, i'll fuck you here, no time to take you to the bedroom" she says, eyes darkened with desire.

i nod as her kisses go lower to my neck, bitting, licking and leaving hickeys as i whimper.

"when i finish fucking you stupid, you're gonna go show him your hickeys and tell him who left them there" she says in a growl.

i nod, completely at her mercy.

she kneels, her hands slowly going under my skirt as she pulls it up, making me hold it.

"you and this miniskirt have been driving me insane all night" she says, her fingers teasing my folds over my panties. "look at you baby, you're soaked. you ruined this pretty pair of undies. being my whore made you this wet?" she says, her fingers still softly tracing my cunt, feeling the wetness.

"all for you, all for you. please se-mi" i beg whimpering, my puffy clit needy for stimulation.

"please what baby? use your words like the grown girl you are" she says, her eyes dark and feral, staring at the wet patch growing on my underwear.

"please fuck me."

her eyes graze all over my face as a smirk forms in her lips. i whimper as her fingers grab the elastic band of my panties. her face so close i can feel her breath against my cunt, making me clench to nothing. her tongue can't help but swipe across.

i moan, one hand holding to my skirt as the other one heads to grab her hair to pull her closer. she chuckles at my desperation, giving another flick of her tongue.

finally, she slowly begins to pull my panties down, removing them.

cold air hitting my clit, making me squeeze my thighs. her breathing getting heavier as she parts my legs, seeing the wetness covering my inner thighs.

she grabs my leg and places it on top of her shoulder, getting closer to where i need her the most. her fingers slowly teasing my clit as i give her a choked moan.

her tongue meets my clit, giving kitten licks as her fingers lower to tease my entrance. i yank her hair, trying to pull her even closer, making her stop. my eyes become watery.

"n-no wait, wh-why did you stop" i whimper, so needy.

"you're such a brat. you tease all night, you make me angry and you want me to take it to your pace?" she says, two of her fingers enter without warning in my soppy cunt, making me moan loudly. "you'll do as i say when i say it, you're my slut" she stares at me, as my eyes threaten to shut close from pleasure. i nod, making sure she knew i understood.

"lets fuck the attitude out of you, hm?" she says, her tongue meeting my clit once again as her two fingers curl inside of me with no mercy.

her tongue flicks on all the right places, fingers never leaving my inside as she thrust deeper and harder, making me clench.

"i-if you keep going i'll cum...i'm gonna cum please" i moan loudly as her pace seems to go even faster.

my head against the wall, feeling completely overwhelmed by how good she's fucking me. i can hear the squelching sounds of my pussy as she keeps thrusting, hitting that spot that makes me wanna crumble for her.

she keeps eating me, soft moans leaving her mouth, turning me on even more.

then suddenly, when i'm about to hit the climax, everything stops.

i open my eyes wide as i see her smirking playfully in between my legs.

"you're ready to take my cock princess?" her voice dripping in lust as she stood up. she grabs my hips and bites my pouty lips, kissing me once again.

she pounds with no mercy into me with her fake cock, my eyes rolling back from pleasure as i feel her hand squeeze my throat, choking me as she thrusts harder.

"you like it baby? you like my cock?" she says, heavy breathing as i mumble something that sounds like "yeah..yes..yeah"

she keeps slamming into me as her fingers leave my throath and go straight to my aching clit. she circles as i clench, showing i'm getting closer and closer to my release.

my moans get louder as she goes deeper and faster.

"you're gonna cum for me princess? i wanna feel you tight around my cock" she says, her moves never stopping.

i nod, desesperate. "se-mi.. baby i love-i love you so much.. so so much-" i cry out as my mouth opens in a "o" shape.

heat positions in my lower stomach, expanding more and more with each thrust, until it snaps.

i pull her by the neck, kissing her deeply to shut my loud moan as i cum. my cunt pulsating around her cock as she never stops moving, making my orgasm last even longer, while she hungrily returns the kiss. her hand leaving my clit and settling on my throat, choking me while she bites and pulls my lower lip.

"i love you so much princess" she says, slowly pausing her thrusts.

as she pulls away her cock leaves my insides, making me whine as i let my body go numb against the bed. my eyes closing as i feel her move from on top of me to sit besides me

her hands position behind my head, pulling me up to drink some water.

i open my eyes to see her hair sticking to her face, cheeks flustered and her eyes dilatated.

as i stop drinking and slowly sit myself in bed, she kisses me once again, her tongue exploring once again my mouth. the feeling that i'll never get tired of this sits on my chest.

"you didn't think this was all, right baby?" she smirks, breaking the kiss and grabbing my hips.

"you're such a good slut, you like this huh? being a whore for your best friend? this' what you wanted?" she teases me as her cock slams into me from behind, spanking me, leaving a red mark of her hand.

tears running my cheeks from pleasure and humiliation. the moans that came from my mouth chanting her name sounded almost pornographic.

"poor baby, all she ever wanted was to go dumb on my cock. you're taking it so good, my little slut"

she had me on all fours, rutting into me, making me take her whole lenght.

her black strap hitting places that made me scream from pleasure. my face against her pillow trying to quiet the moans she took out of me by fucking me ruthless.

"you only wanted me to fuck you dumb, fuck that bratty attitude out of you. look at you now" she said, spanking me as she went harder. "pathetic whiny baby"

one of her hands on my hips, helping her slam deeply into me, while her other hand threads my hair and pulls it, making me lift my face from the pillow with a moan.

"i dont hear you screaming princess, and neither can the idiots downstairs. i bet they want you like this, but you're all mine" she whispers in my ear bringing me closer to her chest without removing her cock, who fucks into me while my slick is covering it entirely.

she keeps pulling my hair harder and tighter. her moves becoming sloppier as her hand sneaks to play with my clit.

the circles over it and her cock thrusting non stop to my squelching cunt made me clench, the release feeling so close again.

"se-mi..se-mi i'm coming again" i cried as she kept slamming and pulling my hair so i couldn't fall against the pillow. my moans becoming louder with each thrust.

the pleasure taking all over my body, i cried as i felt myself reach the climax. she kept going with her moves, but started to slow down, softly grabbing my body to prevent me from falling hard onto the matress.

she pulled away, the feeling of nothing filling me left me whining. my body lays in bed as my breathing tries to become normal. i felt like i was passing out.

she lays besides me, moving my body to be almost resting on top of her as she kisses my head.

"i never wanted anyone else. and you're dumb for not telling me about your feelings. we could've done this sooner" she chuckles as i nod, tired.

"i wasn't flirting with nam-gyu. i always wanted you" i said with my eyes close, almost falling asleep.

"i know baby. but tomorrow he'll see the hickeys and i'll be happier" she mumbles, closing her eyes to doze off.

i hear a few knocks on the door as we both open our eyes.

"why do we get all the cleaning and you two get the sex? that's so unfair" thanos said, knocking again on the door.

we could hear him and nam-gyu mumbling as thanos laughed at him.

"a chance? "thanos snorts, teasing nam-gyu. "you're stupid if you thought se-mi would let you get an inch close to her" he says as the other guy shushed him.

se-mi scoffs as she hugs me, forcing me to close my eyes and doze off.

who knew falling for your best friend could end this good?

[blackmoonowl]

Oneshot where Barbatos is struggling not to constantly serve mc

𝐒𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧.

ꨄ Pairing: Barbatos x reader

ꨄ Summary: On a Barbatos posting roll rn. Just some fluff and crack, no serious plot points. A little short to pass the time.

ꨄ Word Count: 622

"Don't mind the mess, I did my best to clean up before you came."

Barbatos glanced around your home, taking it in. He had never seen your human world home, and it fascinated him. The butler stepped over your shoes, picking them up and neatly putting them away in the rack. Under his arm he held a beautifully decorated wooden box.

"Do not worry, I have seen far worse," the demon assured you, kissing your hand before making his way into your living room as you closed the door.

"Thanks, do you want some tea? It's probably not the good stuff you're used to," you offered, gesturing towards your kitchen. Barbatos smiled, waving his hand slightly.

"There is no need, I brought a brew I made myself, your favorite." Before you could say anything else, the butler walked past you to make the tea himself.

"Hold on a second," you replied, causing him to halt You leaned on the counter, tilting your head to the side with a smile. "You're the guest here, shouldn't I be making your tea?"

"I assure you, it is no trouble." Barbatos took the wooden box, opening it to reveal several tea blends. "I live to serve."

"Serve Diavolo, not me." You replied, gently taking his wrist and guiding him to sit down. Barbatos furrowed his brows slightly, but did as you instructed him, sitting down neatly in one of your chairs.

"Are you certain?" Barbatos questioned as you began making tea for the both of you. "I find enjoyment in taking care of you as much as I do the young master."

"Yeah, but I'm not the crown prince, I'm your partner. We're supposed to be equals here," you said as you put the tea cup on a small plate and served it to him with some biscuits. Barbatos shifted uncomfortably as he waited for you to sit down before even starting.

"this is the tea cup I bought you for your birthday years ago," Barbatos mumbled as he inspected the decorated item. "You have no idea how much that pleases me to see. Have you kept your own matching one?"

"Course I did, gift from my favorite demon. I could never lose it." You shared a smile with him as he glanced back at his cup.

"I wouldn't let the brothers hear that I am your favorite, even if it is true." He crossed his legs as he watched you brew your own cup. "Even if I relish in it."

You began cleaning up the kitchen a little. Barbatos was on his feet immediately, nearly making you jump out of your skin when he stood right beside you suddenly.

"That is best cleaned with a different type of sponge, allow me to do it for you," he offered. He took the towel from you as you shot him a look.

"Barbatos, c'mon. What did I just tell you?" You huffed, crossing your arms as Barbatos wiped down your counter. You had never seem the butler so conflicted before, it was almost jarring. "Just sit down."

"Dear, your apartment is messy, and you expect me to sit down and simply do nothing? I won't stand for that." Barbatos scolded you gently. "I cannot simply sit by and not do my job as a butler. Allow me to take care of you."

"Barbatos, I'm with you because I love who you are, not what you can do for me. I promise I'll clean my stuff up later, alright?" Barbatos relented, walking back to the table with you. He sat down, neatly taking his cup of tea as you took yours. Barbatos gently blew before placing the cup to his lips, taking a small sip.

"It is perfect."

[dxrlingluv]

Player || Lee Myung-gi

Series : Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 : Where are we?, Chapter 4

Description :

In which you woke up in an unfamiliar place with nothing but your clothes and your bed.

Lee Myung-gi x Fem!Reader

You continued to stare at the calling card that the business man gave you. You sighed, not knowing if this would be a good idea.

'it's definitely not a good idea... but what choice do I have?'

You thought to yourself, scratching your head in irritation.

Muttering, 'Fuck it,' You dialed the number.

Without a second, a deep voice of a male answered.

"Hello?" He started.

You hesitated a little, "I was given this card, the man said there'll be more games to earn more money from?". With trembling hands, you awaited for their response.

In a minute or so, "Please state your name and your birth date."

Now standing beneath the cold night, you awaited for whatever would come. This is definitely a bad idea! Who in their right mind would ask you to come in this specific area at midnight?!

Suddenly, a van stopped in front of you, the window from the passenger seat opened and revealed there was a person wearing a black mask with a circle symbol, and they seem to be wearing pink overalls, but you're not sure as you can't see much of them.

"What's the password?" The guy asked, staring eerily at you.

"Red light, Green light." You answered. The door then opened and they told you to get in, so you did. You noticed that everyone else beside you was asleep. I mean who wouldn't sleep at this hour right? Although you can't see anyone in the van, but you bet that the one sitting beside you was an old man by how loud he snores.

Suddenly, smoke came out from the ventilation, which made you panic. "What's- Hey!" You tried to reach out to the driver's and passenger's seat but to no avail, you started to feel extremely dizzy and then everything went black.

You opened your eyes, but immediately regretted it when the light strained your eyes. Groaning, you sat up from a surprisingly comfy bed.

It took a minute for your vision to clear out but when it did, you gasped in shock. You saw other people- Hundreds of other people waking up from their bed too. "What happened..." Reluctantly, you stood up from your bed.

Just then you noticed the uniform everyone was wearing. You turned to look at yours, you were wearing an oversized forest green jacket with a number tag on the left side of your chest. It read, 111.

Huh?

To pair with your jacket was a white shirt beneath that has a big number 111, and a forest green pants with a white line on the outer parts of your legs. And to top it all off, was a white vans shoes.

After observing yourself, you went down from your bed and then down to the floor. You continued to stare around in wonder, and in hopes that you knew someone here.

Suddenly, a loud bell rang around the room, the door in front opened and there showed a bunch of men in pink over alls. You tried to make it to the front in order to see clearly.

They look like the ones you've seen the night before but they were many this time. And the middle one seems to be different. Instead of having a circle symbol just like everyone else, he had a square mask.

'Does that mean anything?'

You asked yourself.

The square mask spoke, "I would like to extend a heartfelt welcome to you all." He continued, "Over the next six days, you will participate in six different games."

"Does that mean, we can't leave until we finish all those games?" You muttered to yourself, then you tried to bring out your phone in order to call your boyfriend, but you felt nothing.

"Those who win all six games will receive a handsome cash prize." The square mask began again.

"Excuse me!" Someone spoke from behind.

You turned your heads to the direction of the voice then saw a woman slowly making her way down the bunk bed stairs, "If we're just playing games, then why'd you basically kidnap us?" She asked. "How can we trust you now?"

Everyone else nodded their heads in agreement and stared again at the masked men in front.

"My apologies. Please understand it was a necessary step taken to maintain the strict confidentiality of these games," The square mask answered.

Another person spoke, "Is that right? Then what's the deal with the masks?" The woman exclaimed. "That's a secret too, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah, why are you wearing those? Where the hell are we? Is this some kind of illegal casino, huh?" The guy beside the woman accused.

"If this were one of those, you'd see the dealers' faces, idiot!" The woman beside him said.

The players began murmuring, as if agreeing to everything that's being accused.

"To ensure the fairness and confidentiality of the games, it is our policy not to disclose the faces and identities of our staff to participants." Square cleared out, "We ask for your understanding."

Then, the woman beside you raised her jacket and asked, "Did you people strip me when you shoved me into this?"

"And where the hell are my shoes?"  A guy followed.

We turned our heads to him as he continues, "God damn it, that pair was fucking limited edition." He stared at the shoe in his hand in devastation. "They don't even make those anymore. What the hell?"

Now that guys seems quite familiar to you...

Was his name Topaz? TOP? Tambourine? Ah- The Marvel villain, Thanos. He was an ex-rapper. Since he's here you guessed that he's mostly likely in debt just like other people here.

Thanos and the girl beside you continues to complain, you groaned internally in annoyance.

"Can I have the outfit you guys are wearing instead? The pink's cute as hell." She smiled charmingly at them in hopes to get their approval.

You gotta admit, she's a good looking person, but you're sure that that kind of attitude won't work towards these masked men.

The square mask refused saying that it is not possible. "To ensure the games run smoothly, you must wear your uniforms"

"Uh, what about my phone?" Another guy asked.

Hold on.

That voice!

You moved your head to find the person who spoke and... you were right! Myung-gi! You boyfriend is here too!

You smiled widely, wanting nothing than to be close to him now that you knew he's here too.

He moved to the front with a fierce look, "You took my phone and wallet. What the hell's going on?" He firmly asked. Yeah you were curious too. "When'll we get those?"

"Your belongings are safe and being stored securely." Square answered plainly. "We will return them to you once the games have ended."

'Have they done this before? They seem too nonchalant about everything that's happening and everything that's being questioned.' You thought to yourself.

"Can I please get my phone returned at least?" Myung-gi pleaded. "I need to see how my crypto is doing. Are you guys gonna compensate me if I can't trade my coins?"

'Oh. He's worried about... that?'

Again, Square repeated, "We will return tour phone once the games have ended."

You boyfriend pressed on, "I need to know if the market's going down. Do you know how much money I've invested?"

"Player 333, Lee Myung-gi." He stated as he raised a remote and clicked it, earning a high pitch beep.

Everyone stared at the huge screen above the masked men.

It showed Myung-gi playing ddakji as he got slapped. "Age 25, former owner of the YouTube channel, MG Coin. Promoted Dalmatian, a new cryptocurrency, leading his subscribers to lose a combined 15.2 billion won. He then shut down his channel and disappeared."

"H-how do they know all of that..." you whispered, worry rising up for your boyfriend.

"Currently wanted for fraud and violating multiple communication and investment laws. Total debt: 1.8 billion won."

You gasped, you knew he has a lot of debt, but not that many. You knew he hasn't been too honest ever since he flew away from the country and came back. But you wanted to understand him still.

You stared at you boyfriend from behind, worry evident on your face.

"196, Kang Mi-na. Total debt: 45 million"

"120, Cho Hyun-ju. Total debt: 330 million"

"230, Choi Su-bong, Total debt: 1.19 billion"

"198, Jang Do-yeong, 1.4 billion"

"226, Kim Yeong-sam, 1.9 billion"

"444, Kim Nam-du, 2.02 billion"

"343, Sim Jae-seok, 2.89 billion"

"006, Park Mi-hwa, 3.1 billion"

"100, Im Jeong-dae... Total debt: 10 billion"

Everyone around you gasped and tried to find player 100. "Ten billion? Which one is he? Where..." Player 226 jumped in his position, trying to find someone who was just almost beside him.

"What are you looking at?!" Player 100 exclaimed in frustration.

The players gasped again in shock from his sudden outburst.

"Think it's easy to get loans that large? They don't give out ten billion to just anyone! You have to work in the big leagues for that!!"

You scoffed, "Or maybe you gambled too much." You muttered to yourself.

This is going to be fun, but first, you need to have a talk with your boyfriend.

After a few moments of comebacks and answers, the light around the room turned warm yellow. Everyone stared above as a huge piggy bank slowly slid down from the ceiling.

"That piggy bank looks cute, don't you think so?" 196 asked you all of a sudden which made you look at her. You laugh and agreed.

"I think you look cuter though." You lightly joked at her then continued staring up at the piggy bank.

196 continued to stare at you in shock, but it wasn't because she was disgusted or offended. It was because she never expected to receive something like that to a beautiful girl. She nudged you lightly which you two laughed at a bit before continuing to listen to Square.

"If you look above you, you will see the piggy bank where your prize money is going to be stored. As I said you will play six games. After the conclusion of each game, more prize money will be added to the piggy bank.

"What's the total prize money at the end?" A guy with glasses asked.

"The total prize money is 45.6 billion won."

A/N 🩷

Hello! Author here. Please check out my wattpad account as I post early there ^^ as I post chapter 3 here, there’s already chapter 4 in my wattpad account. My user there is _dxrlingluv ! Thank you.

[daveth-isnt-dead]

Coalescence part 2/3

Part One

Summary:

She’s so nervous that her breath catches in her lungs and doesn’t come back out, from her side she can hear Viktor’s foot tapping a frantic rhythm against the tiles. Without even thinking it through, her hand finds his and grabs it tight. He doesn’t pull back, if anything he holds hers even tighter. The question rises once again, unbidden. What are we? AKA: She works with Viktor for seven years, she is in love with him for five of them.

Contains: she/her pronouns, supremely slow burn, sharing a bed, canon typical illness stuff.

Word Count: 12,181

Read on AO3

The next year feels a lot slower than the last few had, without the relentless push from the council to get the Hexgates finished, work stagnates as the three of them try to figure out what to make next. A few months in she gets sick of sitting on the other side of the room and goes through the arduous process of rearranging the furniture. She has to move Jayce’s desk first and then the blackboard and then she finally has enough room to squeeze herself in, the fact that the only available spot is next to Viktor’s desk is only serendipitous, at least that’s what she tells herself. Jayce seems pretty excited about the change when he comes in, that maybe the rearrangement might be enough to finally get all their synapses firing. 

Viktor, by comparison, sits quietly next to her and doesn't even acknowledge the change for the first few hours, just scoffs when she asks to borrow his ink for her pen, “If you’ve only moved your desk next to mine for access to my stationary then I’ll be very upset.” despite his words, he slides it over to her desk, “You’re lucky I’m so accommodating.” 

She wants to say something about how his stationary is the last thing on her mind, but instead, she just laughs and replies, “Very lucky, thank you.”

A few weeks after her impromptu rearrangement, she comes into the lab to find a new desk sitting where hers once was and more surprisingly, a person sitting at the desk. Shocked, she lurks in the doorway while trying to figure out what to say, only for the visitor to notice her and immediately jump up from her chair and rush over to greet her. 

“Hi! I’m Sky! It’s so great to meet you!” She says, grabbing one of her hands between two of her own, “I’m the new lab assistant! Viktor hired me!” She blinks for a moment, trying to find a way to reply that doesn't make her seem utterly repellant, “I thought I was the lab assistant…” is what came out, and it wasn't the energy she had been aiming for. 

Sky laughs, “You’re funny. It’s nice to know you three have a sense of humour.” she finally releases her hand before readjusting her glasses, “If you ever need anything, I’ll either be here or in the botany lab down the hall. I’m going to study as much as I can while I have the chance, but I’ll always be nearby.”

When Viktor eventually arrives and sits at his desk, she scoots her chair a little closer to his and whispers, “Why’d you hire another assistant?” “Sky’s an old friend and we’re going to need the help-” he pauses a moment and then spins his chair to face her, “Why did you say another assistant?” “Because I’m your assistant.” Viktor lets out a disbelieving laugh, “ You haven’t been our assistant in a very long time.”

Her heart thrums nervously in her chest, and all she can let out is a weak little, “...huh?”

“You’re a partner.” Viktor clarifies as he rests his hand on her forearm, “A friend .” a beat, his thumb lightly rubbing against her bare skin, “and you always made terrible coffee, it was time to let you off the hook”

She laughs and playfully slaps his hand away.

It’s only a month after that when Jayce has the idea that changes the trajectory of their research for the foreseeable future. They had all been sitting at their desks, doing barely any work. It was still just under a year before the next progress day and without an active request from the council, there wasn’t all that much pressure for them to create something. She had been entertaining herself with a paper ball that she was tossing up into the air, Jayce was flicking paperclips into an empty crate on the other side of the room, and even Viktor had been absently spinning around in his chair for the past hour, which was definitely out of the ordinary for him. 

“Maybe we need a change of scenery?” Jayce suggests, hanging his head low when he finishes his last box of paperclips. 

She scoffs, tossing the paper ball in the air once again, “It’s not like we can take the research outside with us.”

“Even if we could, it would be far too dangerous to take any of the crystals out of the lab.” Viktor supplies, completing another rotation on his chair, “They are too volatile.”

Jayce sighs, “I didn’t literally mean moving the lab equipment outside, guys. I just thought we could take a walk and-” 

When the paper ball finishes its most recent arc into the air, she doesn’t bother catching it again, instead pointing a finger in Jayce’s direction, “That’s your idea face! You have an idea!”

Viktor freezes mid-spin, quickly rotating himself to face Jayce whose eyebrows are drawn tight. After another moment just sitting there and staring straight forward, Jayce leaps up from his chair and starts frantically pacing back and forth. 

“Oh yes!” Viktor says enthusiastically, turning to look at her over his shoulder, “He definitely has an idea.”

Jayce laughs breathlessly and then stalls in the middle of the room, erupting into a passionate and wildly gesticulated speech about finally being able to bring Hextech to the people instead of just serving the whims of the council, about working on smaller devices that could be mass-produced and (importantly) would have a far shorter development time than something as large scale as the Hexgates. As he spoke, she couldn’t resist shifting her gaze to Viktor, leaning forward on her desk to get a better angle on his face and nearly melting at the impassioned warmth in his eyes, the delectably sweet tug of his lips. 

“Before we get ahead of ourselves,” Viktor begins, trying not to seem as exhilarated as he clearly is, “We need to figure out a way to stabilise the crystals, then we can focus on utility.” “God, I’ve missed this,” She says with a warm smile dancing around her mouth, “When can we start?”

***

It’s full steam ahead in the lab for the next few months, literally, to some degree. Before fully joining the Hextech team she had spent a brief portion of time studying glass-blowing and shaping and while she was only half joking when she suggested that they should try tempering the crystals, it ended up being the first step to the final solution. While a collision with physical objects causes a volatile reaction in the crystals, standing about twenty feet back in the Talis family forge, they learned that heat did not cause the same problem. Tempering Hextech crystals turned out to be a much more exhaustive process than tempering glass though, and every step of the way they were worried about causing some sort of disaster in the forge. 

Sky became an invaluable resource and her contagious energy meant that she also very quickly became a friend. While she wasn’t able to commit her full time to the lab because she had her own studies to worry about, she was always around to help copy down notes when everyone else had full hands or to provide encouragement whenever it started to feel like the next hurdle was impossible. Viktor was also right, Sky made a much better coffee than she ever could. 

“Damn.” She mutters, sipping gingerly on the very hot coffee, “How do you stop it from tasting so watery?” Sky laughed, expertly working the coffee machine in the small tearoom in the sciences wing of the academy, “I worked at a coffee shop in the undercity for a few years, all muscle memory.” she explained, popping a lid on Jayce’s coffee and then scooping one spoonful of sugar into the final vacant cup. 

“Viktor takes two sugars.” She says quickly, probably too quickly. 

Sky gives her an odd look, and then chuckles, “I was about to add another one, but thanks for the help.” She suddenly finds her own reflection in the cup of coffee very interesting.

While the work on finding a way to stabilise the crystals took almost all of their time, it was impossible to stop herself from peering in Viktor’s direction whenever she had a spare moment. He had lied about the leg brace just being for the gala, he didn't wear it every day and on the days that he did he claimed to have plans to take a walk out in the city when they wrapped up in the lab, but she usually caught him walking straight back to his dorm as always. She and Jayce would often share a worried look on days that he showed up wearing it but both could sense he didn't want any attention being drawn to it. There were other changes too, smaller ones, that might have gone unnoticed by anyone from outside the lab. His breath quickened and the hours he used to spend working out calculations and formulas on the blackboard were now spent at his desk instead, his angles sharpened and his face slowly began to lose its softness. 

“Just tired.” He responds, whenever she asks how he is feeling. 

Her eyebrows pinch, an insidious fear taking up residence behind her ribs, “You're tired a lot.” 

He sighs, and she is standing close enough that he can rest his head on the swell of her hip, “I am��

She wraps her arm around his shoulders to hold him against her, aching with the weight of a familiar question.

While he moves slower, he doesn't stop moving. When she and Jayce try to untangle just how to temper the crystals, Viktor sits on a chair nearby taking furious notes and offering suggestions. He sits at his desk with Sky as the two of them start sketching potential designs for smaller-scale Hextech projects. Viktor is, of course, there on the day that they manage to create their first successful gemstone. The crystals temper a lot stronger than glass does and were (so far as they could tell) completely resistant to shattering. The final test happens back in the forge where this process all began, with her and Viktor waiting impatiently on the other side of a wrought iron metal door with only a small glass window to watch through as Jayce bravely performs the final test of the gemstone’s durability. 

Jayce waves at them both, though they can barely see his face under the full set of protective armour he is wearing just in case they were off with their calculations. Despite all the preliminary testing and Viktor’s absolute belief in the gemstone’s structural integrity, she still nervously chews on her thumbnail as she watches Jayce set it down on the anvil. Though she doesn’t express her nervousness, Viktor still notices, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Jayce will be fine.” He says confidently, “We’re ready.” She lets out a shaky sigh, the orange firelight from inside the forge washes gently across Viktor’s face at sets his eyes ablaze. His posture is more lopsided than it used to be, his left shoulder kicked up where he is putting almost all of his standing weight on his cane. Her feelings are discombobulating, a dizzying mixture of fear and denial with an overlarge dash of something aching and desperate that she is still too afraid to give a name despite so many years of feeling it.

“Knowing you think so makes me feel a lot better.” She replies, turning her gaze back to the tiny window, “I envy your optimism.” 

“I wouldn’t call it optimism .” He says, wrapping an arm around her shaking shoulders and resting his cheek on the top of her head, “Determination, maybe?” 

She softens against him, his touch is familiar by now and while it no longer sends her awash with nerves to feel it, a warmth still settles in her stomach that she is unable to do away with. Her arm slides around his waist and clutches him tight, breath high in her chest as she watches Jayce take a few cautious steps towards the gemstone, clutching an oversised smithing hammer in his hands. Just as he raises it in the air, she’s so panicked that she can’t bear to watch and spins to bury her face in Viktor’s chest. She swears she hears his breath catch, and while he stumbles a little to adjust for the new weight, it only takes him a moment to regain his footing. From behind her closed eyes, she hears the echoing boom of the hammer making impact and then a ringing silence where an explosion would have been, if there was going to be one. 

Viktor lets out a breathless, overjoyed laugh, his hand rubbing enthusiastic circles between her shoulder blades, “We’re going to be able to do some real good now.” He says, “I can feel it.”

The leadup to the next progress day is a stressful one, a great deal of their time was spent tempering enough gemstones for testing purposes and the process was hard enough to replicate that they didn't feel comfortable letting anyone other than her or Jayce near the forge. Even Viktor found it a bit intimidating in there and preferred to sit back while the two of them worked. So while she was spending months and months writing detailed instructions for the tempering methods in preparation for the day that smallscale Hextech devices went public, for now, it was still safer to handle that part themselves. Once they finally have enough gemstones for the prototyping stage, they leave the forge behind for the far more familiar walls of the lab. She continues working to transcribe all the notes they have on the process of refining Hextech gemstones, while Viktor, Jayce and occasionally Sky toss ideas back and forth. 

It takes a lot of late nights glowering at the blackboard and throwing out hundreds of ideas before Viktor finally has the idea to find a way to improve working conditions for miners in the fissures. She can tell that it’s a personal mission for him, the way he talks about what conditions were like when he was still living in the Undercity and she, Jayce and Sky all agree with the idea wholeheartedly. They have far less time before progress day than they would like, but after narrowing the scope of Viktor’s idea to a maximum of two projects for now, it feels doable. Viktor has a bit of his pep back, which also helps to soothe her worries. While he isn't moving around as much as she remembers, his enthusiasm surrounding their new project can be heard in every word, seen in every exaggerated gesticulation. 

One day she is completely lost watching him with wrapt attention as he and Jayce discuss what kind of metal would best be suited for the final version of the devices. Utterly absorbed in each and every minute movement of his lovely hands, in the bright vibrancy of his eyes. 

“He was like this as a kid too,” Sky says, snapping her out of her stupor. 

“What, sorry?”

Sky laughs and inclines her head in his direction, “Viktor. We grew up in the same neighbourhood if you could call it that. He was always tinkering with something instead of playing with the other kids.” She shrugs a shoulder, “He always inspired me, still does, maybe even more so.” 

“Yeah.” She replies wistfully, watching as Viktor excitedly gestures to an equation on the blackboard, causing Jayce to pick up the chalk and start making edits, “He’s certainly inspiring.”

***

With only two months left before progress day, the prototypes still aren’t in any sort of state to show the public even though they are almost complete. Especially since the gauntlet keeps insisting that it wants to remain clenched in a fist no matter how hard they try to convince it otherwise. It’s that terrible part of development, where all the brainstorming and assembly is completed and all that’s left is struggling to figure out the last remaining kinks. Despite not being able to make much progress, the four of them are in the lab from sunrise to sunset almost every day. Sky often wears the gauntlet for hours straight as they all take turns trying to diagnose the issue and Jayce almost loses a finger to the Hexclaw when he gets a little impatient in getting it out of the way and forgets to disengage the gemstone. 

She’s tired. They all are. Sky at some point admits that she can’t keep up these hours when she has her own studies to work on and returns to only dropping by when they need help, but the main Hextech team persists, pulling allnighters and sometimes even falling asleep on the floor of the lab in a big pile. At the very least they endure the stress together. With the initial excitement of development over and the growing sleep deprivation, Viktor starts looking worse again. His already pale skin turns papery ashen and the bags under his eyes are purple like a permanent bruise. One day he shows up with a crutch instead of his cane. He doesn’t even try to create an excuse for it, just sits at his desk and starts working before either she or Jayce can ask questions. That’s when they quickly make the decision to insist that all three of them stop spending so much time in the lab, enforcing a cut-off time where, regardless of progress made, the three of them would all head back to their dorms for the evening. While he seems a little irritated by the idea at first, Viktor does agree. None of them are getting any good work done and a proper sleep schedule might be just the thing to change that.

It’s not a perfect system though. Some nights she sneaks work home with her and knows that Viktor is doing the same, but at the very least he’s more likely to fall asleep in his bed that way. Other nights she is still so anxious about their upcoming deadline that she can’t force herself to sleep, even as the time ticks through until the AM. 

One such night, she dashes her way back to the lab well past 2:00 am. She had been planning to tire herself out by reading the book she had rented from the academy library, but she had left it on her desk in her rush to get home that evening. It’s cold when the sun goes down, so she wraps her arms around herself to avoid the chill as she finally draws closer to the lab. The academy can be a little spooky at night, especially alone. It looks a lot different without the usual warm lighting, and the sound of her feet echoes off the tiles and the whole way down the hall. When the door comes into view, she doubles her pace in the hopes of being back in her bed as soon as possible. 

She wipes her eyes and lets out a yawn as she unlocks the door, only to freeze at the entrance of the lab when the cool blue light of a Hextech gemstone still shines brightly from Viktor’s desk. It’s concerning, because they're usually very careful to lock them away when no one is inside. That's when she notices Viktor slumped on the desk, head resting atop his folded arms, he's still, he's so still that it makes an ice-cold panic start rushing through her veins. She calls his name out, walking towards him, and then again when he doesn't answer, hurrying her pace to reach him as soon as she can, her breath coming hard and fast and desperate as she reaches out and grabs him by the shoulder. 

At her touch, he startles immediately, inhaling a shocked and wheezy breath. 

“Thank god.” She exhales, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head in the join between his neck and shoulder. He's still only half awake, one of his large hands coming to rest on her forearm.

“I fell asleep.” He whispers 

“Yeah.” She replies quietly, trying to calm the adrenaline still racing through her, “You did.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” He clarifies slowly, trying to take stock of where he is, “And I came back here thinking that maybe I could solve our problems with the gauntlets before tomorrow morning.” He lets out a breathless laugh and runs a shaky hand through his hair, “My exhaustion must have caught up with me, I apologise.” She doesn’t move, her arms still clutch tightly around him when she lets out a shaky little breath against the skin of his neck. He was just tired, overworked just like her and Jayce. It’s not the first time he’s fallen asleep at his desk, not the first time any of them have. Her heart slowly calms at the feeling of him between her arms, the slow brush of his hand against her bare forearm. She almost wants to laugh, what had she even been thinking? That he had- 

No . There’s no point in even thinking it. He’s fine, she was worrying for nothing. 

“C’mon.” She says, unwrapping her arms from around his shoulders and smiling down at him, “You need to get to bed” He smiles weakly, and she watches with pain in her chest as he puts all of his weight on his crutch to pull himself up from the chair, “Don’t you need to get to bed too?” he asks, giving her just a glimpse of that mischievous smile she loves so much.

“I'll walk you back first.” She replies, heart in her throat, “Your room is closer anyway.”

Viktor looks at her curiously for a moment, and then replies, “Yes, I suppose it is.”

It isn't, they both know it, but the lie is comfortable and the fact that Viktor is willing to go along with it sends a dizzying rush down to her fingertips. They walk in comfortable silence, it reminds her of their first walk together on the way to the music wing, though a lot slower. His crutch makes more of a thunk than the click that his cane used to, but the sound is still good at helping her keep pace with him. The last thing she wants is for him to think that he’s slowing her down. He isn’t, he couldn't, a longer walk is akin to a gift for her, there's so little time for them to meet outside the lab these days that even this minuscule moment is enough for a syrupy warmth to spread through her veins. 

“Do you want to come inside?” Viktor asks when they reach his door. His voice is thick and his tone uncertain, she catches the way his free hand clenches nervously at his side. 

She nods, “Just for a second. It’ll be nice to warm up.” His smile is warm and his eyes shine like amber, “Yes.” He begins, quickly unlocking his door and stepping to the side to let her in first,  “It is cold, isn't it?” It isn’t, but the lie is comfortable. 

“Freezing.” She replies, smiling up at him and walking through the doorway.

This is hardly the first time she’s visited his dorm, though it’s usually during the day to pick something up or drop something off, once or twice to deliver lunch when she suspected that he forgot to eat and on one notable occasion, for a cup of coffee while she struggled through translating his notes into something comprehensible for the council. It looks much the same as she remembers it, very cluttered but still neat. He has stacks of books and piles of notes all over the room and a corkboard with so many overlapping sketches, notes and blueprints that its impossible to see the cork underneath. The floor is clear, though, all his frantic scientific mess is left across desks or bookshelves, a hard divide been his work life and home life. 

Viktor shuts the door behind himself and starts making his way across the space to where she can only assume his bedroom is. He looks at her over his shoulder and says, “You’ll have to give me a minute. Make yourself at home, I won’t be long.” “Oh, okay. No worries.” She replies, wondering what he has to do back there. He might just want to change into something more comfortable for the evening, which is completely reasonable, even if it makes her cheeks warm to think about. Now that she’s actually standing alone in the middle of his sitting room does she finally remember that she’s wearing her pyjamas. They aren’t at all scandalous, thankfully, but she does feel underdressed. After a moment, she sits tentatively on his couch, trying to find the perfect balance between comfortable but not too comfortable for when he comes back out. She drums her fingers against her thigh, trying to ignore just how much it smells like Viktor in here when she hears him call her name. 

She leaps up from the couch, “Yes? Are you okay?” There’s a moment of silence, and then he replies, “I’m fine, I just-” he’s muffled on the other side of the door, but she hears what sounds like a foreign expletive, “I’d appreciate your help, if you’re willing.”

She would be willing to do anything for him, so she walks towards the closed door and then says, “I am.” she swallows nervously, “Can I come in?” “Please.” He replies quietly. 

Her heart races as she opens the door, this part of his dorm she has never seen before. He has a few plants that seem to be in various stages of deceased, a completely full bookshelf, a large wooden dresser and a second, smaller desk that is covered in just as many notes as the one out in the sitting room. His crutch leans against the wall and the man himself sits on the edge of his bed, looking like he’d prefer if she didn't even notice him. “How can I help?” She asks. He looks up at her and then sighs, “The clasps at my ankle.” he says, inclining his head towards his brace, “I’m stiff today I-” “It’s okay.” She replies, already lowering to her knees, “I can do it, don’t even worry about it.” It’s clear that he is still worrying about it, even with her insistence not to. The muscles in his jaw are tight and he turns to face the wall, unwilling to meet her eyes. She doesn’t take any offence, she can tell this is humiliating for him, even though she feels nothing but adoration as her fingers meet the metal clasp at the base of his brace. Luckily the mechanism is intuitive and she doesn’t need any help in undoing it, though her trembling hands make it harder. She is not unaware of the suggestive nature of her positioning, on her knees, between his thighs, but she manages to push past the cloyingly thick implication because more than anything she just wants to help him. 

“Thank you.” He says quietly, when his ankle is loose, “I can reach the rest myself if you’d like to return to the couch for now.” Despite his tired expression, he looks very pretty above her like this, his hair is tousled and hanging slightly in his eyes and the dim lighting in the room catches on all his sharp edges in the perfect way. She sucks a shaky breath in through her nose and then suggests, “I might as well do the rest.” her smile is shaky with nerves, and her voice wavers when she adds, “It just makes sense. I’m already down here after all.” The room feels quieter without the sound of Viktor’s wheezing breath, that’s the only way she realises he’s holding it, “I, ah-” he clears his throat, “Yes. I suppose it only makes sense.” Her next smile is stronger, and more confident as she begins to undo the rest of the clasps and buckles. Viktor has to help her with a few of them, the one at his knee is particularly tricky and he’s insistent that she ask if his leg needs to be moved instead of manoeuvring it herself. Not that he needed to tell her, she would never dare do anything that could hurt him. She has to sit up on her knees to undo the final buckle at his thigh, and he rests a hand on the top of her head as she does so. The feeling of his hand has another smile jumping its way across her face and she quietly asks him to straighten his leg a little so she can slide the brace off completely. 

“All done.” She whispers when it hits the floor. 

He looks down at her for a moment, his gaze so soft that she feels herself beginning to melt in it, “Thank you.” “Do you, um, need help with anything else?”

The muscles in his jaw tighten again and he goes back to staring at the wall, “Well, yes, but-” he shakes his head, “I can do it myself, you’ve done plenty.” “No. I want to help.” She replies, “Please, let me.” Viktor sighs, “I have a back brace too, I can undo it myself, but it takes some effort.” Though there was no real way for her to have known until now, a painful churning begins in her stomach at the thought of her never noticing, not paying enough attention. She pushes the fury with herself down, something to deal with later and instead gives Viktor what she hopes is a comforting smile, “You might have to guide me through it, is that okay?” He looks relieved, as if he was half expecting her to get cold feet, “That would be fine. Thank you.” He adjusts himself on the bed so he’s facing away from her and slowly starts undoing the buttons on his shirt. 

She sucks in a nervous breath and watches as the fabric slides down his shoulders. There’s a mole on the back of his neck that she wants to kiss so badly she can barely stand it. It’s alarming how much his shoulder blades arch against the papery confines of his skin, the way his posture slopes up to the left, the result of an overcorrection for his limp. She swallows thickly at the sight of his brace, layers of overlapping leather and metal splints that seem directly affixed to his spine. 

Viktor takes a deep breath, she sees his shoulders move, “There are clasps on either side of my spine.” He says, voice quivering. One of his hands reaches behind himself in an attempt to point out one of the clasps for her, “It’s very tight, it will be easier if you start at the top and bottom and then work your way to the middle.” “Alright.” She whispers, trying to conceal the incessant way her heart patters behind her ribs, “Let me know if do something wrong, okay?”

He nods but otherwise doesn’t say anything. It takes her a moment to figure out how the clasp undoes at first, it’s quite a complex piece of machinery and she’s shocked to find that her first assertion was entirely correct. The central portion of the brace is affixed to his spine with a series of bolts the whole way down. Her hands shake as she moves to the same clasp on the opposite side, “How, um, how long have you had this?” she asks weakly. 

“A few years.” She clenches her teeth. How did she never notice? “Just to correct my posture.” He clarifies, sensing her tensing up behind him, “It doesn’t hurt.” 

“But you didn’t tell me.” 

He shrugs a shoulder, “You didn’t need to know.” “I would have liked to.” “Yes, well you know now,” he replies tersely and she immediately regrets pushing the matter. 

He stays silent as she works her way through the rest of the clasps. There’s a window on the wall opposite the bed and the curtains are open just enough for a beam of moonlight to reach in and wrap around the bony protrusion of his shoulder, all the way down the length of his back. She feels lost, caught and tangled up in the sharp angles of him. Her hands continue slowly undoing the brace, but her mind is tumbling and grasping for him before he slips through her fingers. The back of his neck is very pretty, the bumps of his spine that aren't covered by the splints are delicate and heartbreakingly sharp and his breathing is quiet and even for the moment, though she has grown used to hearing it like a chesty wheeze. When she finally undoes the last two clasps in the centre of the brace, he lets out a sigh of relief and when she presses a palm beside his spine, she can feel his heartbeat. Without speaking, he slips his arm through the strap that wraps up and around his left shoulder and her heart aches at the red welts left behind where the brace was pulled tight against his skin, the one on his shoulder is particularly deep and she finds herself leaning in to press a kiss to it before she can even think. Viktor sucks in a breath at the feeling of her lips against him but otherwise makes no acknowledgement of it happening.

“Would you like me to go?” She asks quietly, “You’ll probably just want to sleep now.” He looks at her over his shoulder, eyes wide and vulnerable, “No.” he says quickly, “No- it’s, it’s dark. You shouldn’t walk back alone.” A smile tugs at her lips, “It is dangerous in the hallways of the academy at night, isn't it?”

It isn’t, but the lie is comfortable. 

“It is.” He replies and his smile is a soft, heart-melting curl. After a lapse of almost excruciating silence, he shuffles himself to the side of the bed and stands shakily, resting most of his weight on a dresser in front of him, “Could you turn around a moment?” He asks

It clicks that the dresser must be where he keeps his clothes, “Oh! Yep!” He chuckles, “You can get in the bed if you’d like, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

She does as he suggests, facing the wall away from him and crawling in under the covers. It feels strange, the academy bedsheets are exactly the same as the ones in her own room, yet it’s impossible to shake the significance of them being distinctly not hers, “You know I won’t let you do that, right?” she says quietly. 

A drawer opens behind her, and there’s some rustling of fabric, “I’ve slept places far worse than my couch, you even caught me doing so this evening.”

She sighs and pulls the sheets up to her chin, clutching desperately at the fabric, “C’mon, Viktor.” she almost pleads, “It’s just me, I don’t bite.” He scoffs behind her and the bed sinks when he sits on the edge of it. There’s more rustling and she can only assume it's easier for him to change in and out of his trousers when seated, “That isn’t what I'm concerned about.” “Then what are you concerned about?” Viktor goes completely still, she can only hear the sounds of his breathing and she struggles to keep her own breath even as she worries that she may have overstepped. The moment hangs in the air like a pendulum above her and her fingers dig tightly into the blankets. 

“Alright, you win,” Viktor says, and the weight is lifted. He shifts a little, and she feels the blankets lift on his side of the bed as he climbs in. Then she hears a click, and the only light source in the room goes out. 

What are we? She wonders, body stiff and uncomfortable as she lies in the darkness. She’s so close to the edge of the bed that her bent knee hangs off it, too afraid of accidentally touching him because of just how much she wants to. It’s been years of aching and wishing and she’s starting to get the sense that she’s running out of time, that if she doesn't find the right words for what they are, he will be gone before she can express them. She squeezes her eyes shut tight and tries to push the thoughts away, once again forcing herself to believe that Viktor is fine and to ignore all evidence to the contrary. 

Then, she feels Viktor shift on the other side of the mattress and he whispers, “It’s cold tonight, isn't it?” Her heart stops in her chest and she tentatively rolls over to find he’s already facing her. He looks pretty, the light of the moon is eclipsed by the back of his head, leaving him backlit in a soft white light, “Freezing.” she replies, remembering their lie from earlier in the evening. 

“There must be something we can do about that.” he breathes, shuffling in just a little closer. 

She feels like she is about to burst into tears or laughter or something equally immense as she ignores all pretence and all comfortable lies, instead moving straight towards him and wrapping her arms around his chest, tucking her head under his chin. One of his arms slowly slides around her waist to tug her closer against him and his good leg tucks in between both of hers. Something that feels suspiciously like a kiss presses to the top of her head, and as she listens to the gradual calming of his rapid heartbeat she wonders again, what are we?

___

Progress day doesn't go as planned for a lot of reasons. Sitting at the side of the stage, she and Viktor clutch hands the same way they always do. Though maybe a little tighter than normal as they watch Jayce give his first progress day address. She lets out a shocked gasp when Jayce goes off script, deciding not to unveil their newest projects even though the three of them spent so many sleepless nights working on them, even though they drove themselves to exhaustion trying to reach this deadline. Viktor is especially angry about it, seething almost, but everything is thrown into disarray by the attack from the Undercity before they even have a chance to talk it over.

Jayce is their spokesperson, as always, when the three of them are forced to address the council about the theft of one of their gemstones as if it was somehow their fault. They didn’t even have the decency to scrounge up a third chair for her, so she just stands awkwardly beside Viktor and nervously clutches his shoulder. It sometimes feels like the council would forget that she and Viktor even existed if Jayce didn’t keep reminding them. An argument breaks out among the councillors as Jayce begins suggesting a full suspension of Hextech production until the gemstone is located. Viktor also tenses under her hand at the suggestion and while she can understand his reservations, it’s hard for her to disagree with Jayce on this point at least. The last thing they need is someone doing something illegal with their technology, it would be a terrible look, and who knows how many people could get hurt. 

Then, things change so quickly that she can barely keep track. Councilor Medarda levies an attractive offer and before she can even wrap her head around what is taking place, the council issues a vote and suddenly it has eight members. Viktor’s hand shakes when it reaches up to grab her own where it rests on his shoulder, “This won't end well.” he mutters She swallows, filled with an anxious dread that doesn't leave her for the next three days, “Yeah.” She replies, “I have an awful feeling.”

When the two of them return to the lab, the room is filled with a thick and uncomfortable silence. Viktor sits at his desk and clutches his head in his hands, she on the other hand, can’t even bring herself to sit down, instead standing at the only open window in the room and resting her shaking hands on the windowsill. Her stomach twists itself into knots that will take hours to undo, any exhilaration from the the morning is completely gone, only replaced with a churning anxiety. Neither of them speaks until two hours later when Sky drops by, completely unaware of everything that transpired. Viktor explains it to her, his voice weak and exhausted. Sky is a smart girl, she can tell when there isn’t much she can do to help, she promises to let them know if she hears anything about Jayce’s whereabouts, but otherwise says she’ll be in her lab down the hall if they need her. 

With Sky gone, the room once again turns to heavy silence. She swallows and the feeling is thick in her throat, “He must still be with the council.” she says. 

“Yes.” Viktor replies, “He must.”

***

Jayce doesn’t come back that evening. While she’s certain that there is a lot that he needs to learn and probably some sort of extensive paperwork, when she looks over and sees the anxious curl of Viktor’s spine she wishes that Jayce would just tell the council to get fucked and come back to the lab where he belongs. Neither she nor Viktor manage to get any work done, neither of their prototypes are up for production and while there are improvements to be made, Heimerdinger’s insistence that the modifications would take a decade at minimum makes any attempt at progress feel utterly futile. 

Viktor does occasionally pull his pen out and make a few notes, but then he curses under his breath and lets the pen go after just a few minutes. Once she notices the sun has well set through their window and the moon is hanging high in the sky, she lets out a sigh. 

“We’re not going to get anything done, Viktor.” She says quietly, watching as he runs a desperate hand through his hair, “Do you want to get some sleep? Jayce will probably be back in the morning, then we can at least work out what we’re going to do from here.”

“I still don’t understand why he didn’t show the prototypes.” Viktor mutters, “Nothing today has made any sense.” “Yeah.” She replies, “It hasn't.” After a moment, Viktor sighs and grips tightly to his crutch to pull himself up from the chair, “Let’s just go.” he says, and then quieter, as if he doesn’t want her to hear it, “I’m tired.” They don’t talk at all on the walk over to his dorm, both exhausted emotionally and physically. Viktor is struggling to walk more now, she always finds him falling behind even though she is trying her best to keep in step with him, he must notice, even though she purposely doesn’t draw attention to it and she can only imagine how that makes him feel. He stands back as she unlocks the front door and she fondly remembers the morning when she found the spare key lying on his dresser when she woke up. He hadn’t told her that he was getting a copy made, he’d just left it for her when he headed to the lab for the day. It makes sense though, she spends more nights asleep in his bed than she does her own these days, trapped in a tangle of bony limbs that isn't necessarily comfortable but it is profoundly comforting . 

“Do you want tea?” She asks as she steps in through the doorway, holding the door open for him as he follows her inside. 

“No, thank you.” He says, moving to the bedroom and sitting down on the bed, “Help yourself, though.” She follows him into the bedroom, sitting down on the floor and going through the familiar routine of undoing his brace, “You know I was just being polite, I hate tea.” He laughs weakly, leaning back on his elbows as she moves to undo the clasps at his knee, “Don’t worry, it was very polite, thank you.” Her hands are quick now, familiar with each fastening the whole way up his leg, it only takes her a few seconds to have it undone. when she finishes She rests her head on his left thigh, peering up at him. Viktor sighs softly, brushing her hair away from her face. This isn’t a thing that friends do, she recognises, unable to resist leaning into his touch, but it is what they do. The fabric of his slacks is a little scratchy against her cheek and her legs are starting to go numb where they are curled under her, but the moment is so intimate and delicate that she can’t bear letting it shatter. 

“If Jayce isn’t in the lab tomorrow morning, I’ll see if I can find him in the council room,” Viktor says quietly, rubbing gentle circles over her temple with his thumb. 

“I can go instead, " she suggests, “if you want to get some work done in the lab.” “No.” He replies sternly, “I-” he sighs, hanging his head, “I need to talk to him.” “He’ll listen.”

Viktor lets his hand drop from her head, his face awash in painful uncertainty.

She raises herself up on her knees and reaches out to cup his cheek in her hand, “It’s Jayce.” She whispers, confidence proved only a mimicry by the way her voice shakes. Her thumb traces the sharp line of his cheekbone and her voice is more sincere when she adds, “He always listens.”

***

Whatever conversation Viktor and Jayce have doesn’t seem to help all that much. Jayce does seem apologetic at the very least, but for the next few days, Viktor is decidedly prickly. He sets himself up at one of their workstations and starts wordlessly assembling a new project that neither she nor Jayce has heard anything about until now. While he works, she mostly just sits at her own desk and goes back to trying to fix the issues with the hexclaw with the hopes of getting it to a more finished state before the next investor meeting in a few months. Something has changed in Viktor, she notices. A more pointed determination, something almost dangerously single-minded. He works on his new project all hours of the day and it’s harder than ever for her to pull him away for meals, or to convince him to leave the lab with her in the evenings. 

His cough is getting worse too, worse enough that it’s impossible for her to pretend that everything is fine, no matter how much he tries to convince her that it is just a cold or just allergies or just- 

She catches him once or twice, wiping the blood from his mouth on the back of his hand and she wants to scream or cry or do any number of things to force him to stop acting like everything is still fine. Jayce has noticed too, but he’s so busy with council business now that he only drops into the lab for a few hours a day. 

“I don’t know what to do.” He says, leaning against the wall just outside the lab. 

She leans there with him, not wanting to have this conversation in the same room as Viktor, “Me either.” “He is sleeping, right?” She nods, “Not as much as I’d like, but I'm getting him to bed every night.” “That’s good.” Jayce replies, hanging his head, “I should be in there with the two of you but-” he sighs, “Everyone’s still worried about the attack and that missing gemstone, until that’s sorted I don’t know how much time I’ll be able to spend in the lab.” “I know.” She replies, because she does know, even if the facts make her angry, they are still just the facts. She wrings her hands together and turns to face Jayce, his brows are pulled tight and he’s chewing hard on his bottom lip. 

“Hey, Jayce?” He turns his head to look at her, exhaustion visible under his eyes, “Yeah?” “Do you-” her breath escapes her in a hiccuping sob, “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

“Sure he will.” Jayce says, though his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, “If anyone can get himself out of a bind, it’s gonna be Viktor, you know?”

***

She visits her father for dinner the night after. They have a long standing arrangement where she stops by within a week of progress day to debrief him. For the first time though, she spends the whole time just itching to get back to the academy, nervously checking the clock with each passing hour and barely managing to eat any of her dinner. 

Her father laughs, “I know I’m not a proper chef or anything, but my food can’t be that bad, can it?” “No, it’s good, I’m sorry.” She says quietly, pushing her food around the plate with her fork, “Still just discombobulated after-” she waves her hand around vaguely, “You know.” “The attack?” He asks softly. 

“Yeah, the attack.” she lies

“Your friends are alright, aren’t they? The Talis boy and uh-” “Viktor.” She supplies. Suddenly even less interested in eating her dinner. 

The new project Viktor is working on consumes him. He’s started calling it the Hexcore and says that he aims to find out whether or not Hextech can learn , if like she discovered so many years ago, they were missing a fundamental and human component. While all of their current creations resonated at a G4, who’s to say that there aren't other effects that could be unlocked by teaching it how to resonate at another, or by giving it an unlimited combination of runes to cast with? He sits at the workstation for hours, constantly manipulating and twisting the rune matrix around. At all moments the room is filled with the rapid click of plates realigning or the humming of the gemstone within them. The only break comes when he takes a moment to update blueprints or write down new notes. She still managed to get him to bed the past few nights, though it only becomes more difficult each time. With Sky’s help, she’s able to keep him eating, even if it’s little more than a sandwich or one bite of an apple. 

She did tell Viktor that she was going to be out tonight and that she’d likely see him in bed. Sky will be staying late at the academy because she has an assignment due tomorrow morning and she promised to keep an eye on him as best she could. Jayce has a meeting with councillor Medarda (though he called her Mel ) and will try and find time to stop by the lab on his way back just in case. It doesn't matter though, there’s a terrible, awful feeling sitting in the pit of her stomach that she can’t do away with. 

“I should get to meet those boys someday, you know?” Her father says, snapping her back to the present, “I know you’re probably embarrassed about our little house on the fringes, but it cleans up nice!” She laughs weakly, remembering that Jayce and Viktor technically already visited years ago, “Sorry, Dad. We’re all really busy right now, and Viktor-” she bites her lower lip to stop the words from coming out, “He’s tired, we’re all tired.”

“Well, maybe I’ll stop by your lab sometime.” He replies, leaning back in his chair with a warm smile on his face, “You can do experiments on me, I’m tough.”

That gets a proper laugh out of her and she’s grateful for it, “I think we’d all like that.” she says, “You could meet our assistant Sky, too. She does work with plants, which is probably a little more up your alley than our stuff.”

“Speaking of plants, did you see the hydrangea on the doorstep? She’s looking a lot better, isn’t she?”

“Doesn’t look one foot in the grave anymore, at least.” She says and then lets out a sigh, “Look, I’m sorry I still haven't been able to get you a seat in the main hall for progress day. Mrs Talis said you could both share a seat next year if they deny my request again.” Her father barks a laugh, “Good sense of humor, that woman. I like her.” he crosses his arms and a frown pulls his grey eyebrows together, “House Talis isn’t even that large, I don’t understand why she gets a seat every year and I don’t.” She shrugs a shoulder, “They’re still a house, Dad.” He huffs, “You’d think having a daughter who helped build that big whosawhatsit in the sky would count for something.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” She replies with a halfhearted smile. 

“When are you going to get your face on one of those mugs?” He grumbles, “I keep telling my clients that my brilliant daughter is doing all this amazing stuff and none of them ever believe me, but if i had a mug- ” Another laugh bubbles up and out of her, she shakes her head, “Hey, Viktor doesnt have a mug either. We just don’t have the faces for it.” She lies, Viktor has a face that should be carved out of marble, “Plus we’re not exactly socialites, I don’t know what Id do if people started recognising me when I went out for lunch.” Her father leans forward, taking one of her hands in two of his own, “You deserve some recognition though, pumpkin.” he waves his hand, “I guess that Viktor guy does too, but I don’t care about him.” Somewhere amidst her laughter it starts feeling like crying, she sniffles and quickly wipes her eyes, “Be nice to Viktor, he isn’t here to defend himself.” “Maybe i’d care about him more if i got to meet him.” “Okay, okay.” She says with a watery smile, “I’ll see how we’re doing next month, maybe we can find time for you to visit the lab. You just won’t be able to touch anything, alright?” He lifts his hands up in the air, “Fully hands off, no worries, kiddo.”

***

It’s well past midnight when she finally leaves. Despite the sense of urgency burrowing into the marrow of her bones, her father still makes great company and it was difficult to leave him, but as she finally makes her way back to the academy dorms the urgency has begun an evolution into terror. Viktor’s dorm is eerily silent when she opens the door, even when he’s sleeping she can usually hear the rasp of his breath. Her heart beats so wildly in her chest that she can feel it down to her fingers as she rounds the corner and finds no crutch leaning against the wall of his bedroom and not a single disturbance in the perfectly made sheets. 

The bad feeling rises in her like bile. Desperation gnaws as she drops her handbag, grabs her keys and kicks off her shoes before sprinting from the dorms all the way to the lab on the other side of the building. Her breath is ragged in her chest and her heart is racing in a panic that only increases in metre as she runs. The tiles are cold under her bare feet and she is aware that anyone still awake must hear her barreling down the halls, but she couldn't care about anything less. When she finally turns the corner to their hallway, it feels like it stretches and stretches, mocking her as she tries to get to the door, faster faster . Her breath comes out in an aching sob when she finally makes it, hoping and praying to be proved wrong as the door unlocks. 

But the feeling had been right. 

Viktor’s Hexcore still pulses on the workstation, pitch shifting from G4 to A4 like it’s laughing at her, spinning quietly as she crosses the room. Watching. Her heart stops completely when she sees him slumped on the floor, there’s a disconnect between her brain and her legs, she can’t make them move, she just stares and inhales gulp after gulp of air that never seems to satisfy. Her feet shuffle slowly, like she isn’t quite awake, like it might all just be a dream. She drops to her knees and reaches out for him.

“Viktor?” she tries, shaking him by the shoulder, and then again, panicked, “ Viktor?”

He doesn't stir. She inhales a breath through her nose, biting back tears, “Okay. Okay. ” she whispers to herself, trying to calm her breathing despite the aching sobs that still lurk in the back of her throat. When the sounds of her own breath are finally quiet enough, she lowers her head to his chest, pressing her ear to his sternum. A heartbeat. Barely there. Her own heart starts racing again and tears of relief start rushing down her cheeks. He’s still alive, but she has to keep him that way. While he certainly can’t weigh all that much he’s still a lot taller than her and completely unconscious so there is no way she can carry him. 

“Okay.” She says, more to Viktor than to herself, “I’m going to get Jayce.” she hiccups another sob and presses a hand to his cheek, nodding to herself, “You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

The academy has a capsule pipeline system to send information between wings. She knows (thanks to Jayce’s complaining about it) that there is also a system that connects directly to each individual counciller room. Most folk can’t get a letter through to them directly, but Jayce left her and Viktor with a couple of special capsules that get immediate access without needing to go through verification first. Just in case. Her handwriting is very messy as she scrawls out two letters, barely a sentence on each. She also writes another one for the hospital, but she knows they’re further away than Jayce is. Her shaky hand smudges the ink and the paper must be covered in tears, it’s hard to see what she’s doing with only the ominous light of the Hexcore for illumination, but she never even considers turning a light on. 

Clutching the capsules she avoids taking another look at Viktor, because she might not be able to leave the room if she does, and runs down to the station that sends and receives capsules for the science department. She sends the one for the hospital first because they have a direct line she doesnt need to input an address for. Then she inputs the address for Jayce’s room, sends the capsule and collapses to her knees beside the machine. It’s loud, when a capsule arrives, at least that’s what Jayce says, loud enough to wake him up. She sits on her knees for what must only be five minutes, but even that feels like an hour. There’s a thunk when a capsule arrives in the tube and she opens it with a panicked vigor. 

It’s the hospital, they’re on their way, but it’s going to be an hour. 

She presses her forehead to the cool wall, gritting her teeth. Jayce should have heard it, she has another capsule just in case he didn’t, but he should have, unless he isn’t in his room. Her eyes snap open and she rises up on her knees, hand shaking as she inputs the address for Councillor Medarda’s room instead and sends the second capsule. 

Sitting there on the floor, clutching her knees up to her chest. She can’t stop thinking about Viktor, how she wishes she could do something instead of just sitting here and waiting. She buries her head in her knees and lets out a wail, not even bothering to keep quiet should someone overhear. If she hadn’t gone out tonight, if she just told her father that she needed to postpone, she could have stopped this. It’s all her fault. Just as she feels a scream building in her chest, there’s another thunk . 

This capsule is from Councillor Medarda’s room. The letter inside is Jayce’s handwriting. 

Coming now. 

___

What are we? She wonders, sitting for the fifth hour beside Viktor’s bed in the hospital. She holds his hand tight, tracing the bumps of his knuckles with her thumb and just waiting . It’s been long enough that the orange light of the morning sun is pouring into the room, trying its best to bring some colour to the sterile white hospital room. She’s so tired after an evening spent crying and screaming and running back and forth that her head leans uncomfortably against the unforgiving wall behind her because she can’t manage to hold it up anymore. Jayce is tired too, but he still has enough energy to argue with the doctors, apparently. She can hear them from across the hall.   

It only took him ten minutes to show up after his letter arrived. She was slumped against the wall of the lab with Viktor’s head in her lap when he came scrambling into the room. She’d cried so much that she could barely even move, completely weak with emotional and physical exhaustion and when Jayce finally came in through the door all she could do was start crying all over again. Jayce tried his best to stay calm, though his breath was heaving after running all the way over and his eyes were watery and panicked. She remembers the way he forced a smile. 

“It’s going to be okay.” He’d said, the wavering in his voice betraying his cool exterior, “We’ll get him to the hospital, c’mon.”

He’d pressed his forehead to hers for just a moment and then lifted Viktor from her lap and into his arms. She barely managed to tell him that the hospital already knew they were coming, all her words came in juts and stutters between hiccuping sobs. Jayce tried to convince her to stay behind, but even with her exhausted body and shaking limbs, it was impossible for him to change her mind. The rest of the night is a blur, lots of sprinting, arguing, crying and waiting, so much fucking waiting . 

She sits up straight when Jayce slams the door open. He has his hand clasped over the lower half of his face and his eyes are wild. She just watches as he crosses the room and all but collapses in the chair beside her. She sniffles and tries to smile, “Didn’t change anything, did it?” Jayce buries his face in his hands and she tentatively wraps the arm that isn’t areadly occupied by Viktor’s hand around his shoulder. He isn’t quite crying, but it sounds like he could start at any moment, “No.” he says gravely, “The results for the second round of tests were the same as the first.” a humourless laugh escapes him, “and they said there’s no point doing a third.” She bites her lower lip to hold back a sob, “You didn’t need to yell at them.” She says quietly, “It’s not their fault.” “I know.” Jayce says, his voice breaking, “I just-” he doesnt finish, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes and sucking a desperate breath in through his teeth “Yeah.” she replies, resting her head on his shoulder, “Me too.”

***

Jayce forces her to go home after four more hours. Promising to stay at the hospital until Viktor wakes up. She tries to argue, but unlike her, Jayce had managed a few hours of sleep the night before while she was running completely on empty. For a moment she considers going back to Viktor’s dorm instead of her own and curling up on his empty bed, but logic settles in when she realises Jayce will need to know where to find her if something happens. So she sleeps alone in her own bed and spends the whole time wishing she was somewhere else. 

Even when laying in the bed and clutching her knees to her chest she can still hear the rush of her heartbeat in her ears. Her chest hurts from so many hours of painful sobbing and her eyes sting whenever she blinks them open. Her dreams are restless and disquieting. Unfamiliar images flash behind her eyelids that make little to no sense, Viktor is in all of them, Jayce is there often, Sky too. The only sound she hears is the ominous humming laugh of the Hexcore, as if it has sequestered itself inside her grey matter. The dreams start and end in rapid fire. Nothing good ever happens. 

She doesn’t have any sense of what the time is when a knock at her door has her waking with a panicked gasp. Sun streams in through her open window, so it must still be at least the late afternoon, but other than that she has no idea. She stumbles to her door, still dressed in her nice blouse and skirt from the evening before but terribly rumpled for all her tossing and turning. It takes a moment for her to unlock the door, her hands don’t seem to want to obey her anymore. 

“He’s awake.” Jayce says in a rush, when the door swings open. 

Her heart jumps back into gear, all aching lethargy suddenly replaced with a jittering anxiety, “We have to go back now!” she says, moving to push past him.

“Wait!” He exclaims, grabbing her by the shoulders before she can start running, “I- I wish i could, but Mel doesn’t even know where I am and-” “Oh.” She says quietly, Jayce looks just as tired as she feels. The Councillor Medarda situation notwithstanding, he needs to rest, she can tell. She lifts up onto her toes and pulls him into a hug, breathing shakily, “It’s okay, I understand.” she buries her face in his shoulder, “Did you at least get to talk to him?”

Jayce returns the hug, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her tight, “Yeah, for just under an hour. I know you wanted to see him straight away but,” he laughs a little, “He wanted me to let you sleep.” Her eyes start beading with tears again, at the thought of him asking Jayce to make sure she gets some rest as if he wasn’t the one who almost died the night before. Sucking in a shaky breath, she releases Jayce and gives him a tired smile, “I’ll see you later then, I guess.” 

He nods, “Let me know if you’ll need me. I’ll be in my room all night.”

“Will do.” She replies, stepping past Jayce and closing her door behind her, “We will talk about you and Councillor Medarda later, though. I want details.” Jayce laughs and they both head their separate ways. 

***

Viktor is at least sitting upright when she finally makes it back to his hospital room. His breath is an aching, painful wheeze and despite being open, his eyes seem glassy and inattentive. They do dart to her face when she enters and something like the first inclination of a smile tugs at the very corners of his mouth. She wants to start crying again, to hold him tight and never let go. She doesn't. Instead, she lurks in the doorway, wringing her hands together.

“I hear you saved me.” He says quietly, his accent and the rasp of his voice makes the words difficult to discern. 

She swallows thickly, “I tried to.” Viktor sighs, then. Turning away from her to face the window. The sun's light makes his skin seem less ashen, but the hollows of his cheeks look even deeper, “I take it you were here with Jayce for my diagnosis, then.” “I-” she starts, voice catching on the word, “I’m sorry.”

He laughs bitterly, “Don’t do that to me, don’t apologise.” 

She doesn’t know what to do but apologise. So instead she keeps her mouth shut and forces herself to return to the chair she had been sitting in for all those hours. Wordlessly, she shuffles the chair forward so she can rest her head on the edge of the mattress, peering up at him. She grabs his hand again, holding it tight the same way she had been when he was asleep. 

“I wouldn’t judge you wrongly.” He says quietly, his other hand moving to cup the back of her head, “If you decided to put a stop to-” he closes his eyes and then says the last word like a secret, “-this.” There’s no specification, no clarification. But she knows, she knows what this is, she’s known it for years. This is the only thing she’s ever wanted, this has taken up residence behind her ribs and any removal would have to be surgical. They’d have to rip this from her, out of her and even then she would kick and scream the entire time. This is what they are. 

“I don’t want to.” She breathes.

“Milackú” he whispers achingly. A word she has never heard before, but instantly recognises it as being for her, “I’m dying .”

It hurts to hear him say it, more than when the doctors did. 

“You’ll figure something out.” She says, “I know you will and if- well if you don’t, I-” she squeezes her eyes shut, trying to force back her tears, “I’m still not going anywhere okay? Neither is Jayce, or Sky. Okay? ” she somehow manages to let out a weak little laugh, “and my father wants to meet you, so you have to stick around for a little while.”

Viktor laughs, though it's more of a rasp, “You talked about me?” he asks quietly.

“Always do.” She replies.

It looks like Viktor wants to say something and it looks that way for quite some time. He lets out a shaky breath instead and just keeps looking down at her, whatever words had been dancing on the edge of his tongue are long gone. Usually, she would be curious as to what they were, but at this moment she's just glad to have him, even in silence. It's hard to remember the precise moment when even looking at Viktor became an exercise in restraint, if it was the day they first held hands in the council room, or even before that. She always wants to reach out, to touch, for her skin and his to coalesce into something evangelical.

After some time, she attempts to readjust her head, frowning when she can't manage to find a position that doesn't put a crick in her neck.

“That cannot be comfortable,” Viktor says quietly, rubbing light circles on the back of her head. 

“It isn’t, my neck hurts,” she answers truthfully. He huffs in faux irritation and shuffles himself to the far side of the bed, “Just get in.” he says, “Before you hurt yourself.”

The hospital bed is a lot smaller than the one in his dorm and while the sheets are starchy and uncomfortable, they do smell like him, so she is more than happy to climb in. The single bed leaves them pressed together from collarbone down to knee and the only comfortable place for her head ends up being his chest. He doesn't seem to mind, his arm curls around her and holds her even tighter against him. She wraps an arm around his middle and buries her face in his hospital gown to hide the new tears beading in her eyes. 

“I love this.” She whispers, a close enough approximation, but its utterance feels less dangerous than the truth. 

Viktor kisses the crown of her head, and he breathes, “So do I.”

He falls asleep first, probably less than an hour after she joins him in the bed. First the first time in a long while his breath sounds steady, though it’s probably because he’s still on oxygen. The rhythmic sound of his heart beneath her ear has her biting her lip to keep herself from sobbing, remembering how quiet it had been all those hours ago. How much it hurt to think he had died, how much it hurts still to know that he will . 

She stays awake as the sun begins to set outside the window, once again painting the hospital walls in hues of orange, watching the shafts of light slowly shift with time. This is what they are. It’s not something that can so easily be named, it’s a feeling, a sob building up behind her ribs, his arm around her and the aching dread of something terrible on the horizon. She feels inseparable from him, a very real sense that if he were to die, she would be soon to follow. It takes another hour for her to fall asleep, hand clutched tight to the bedsheets at Viktor’s waist, leg tucked over the top of his own. She isn’t going anywhere, the universe itself couldn’t make her. 

[shiny-jr]

Please yap away about your new Empyrean series~! I’ve been watching a bunch of videos and reading about Genshin Impact so I can better understand the world and dynamics you’re planning to write about and absolutely fascinated with everything~

Is there a specific dorm you’re looking forward to writing about or possible side arcs/missions in between the MC meeting the different Archons like the events in Twisted Wonderland? Were some of the dorm leaders easier to place as the different Archons elements than others and if so who did you struggle with?

Oh god, where do I even start? How much is too much to say? I don't want to spoil whole parts. I haven't actually written anything for it, but I do certainly have ideas. Ideas that have been accumulating slowly but surely.

Uh, I think first thing's first, none of the TWST cast are going to be just human. How unfair would it be if, say, Riddle was an archon (god) and Ace was just human? Kinda unfair. Which is why all the characters are going to be something else. I'm still figuring some of this part out.

Keep in mind, my knowledge of Genshin Impact extends as far as Inazuma and no further. Anything I know beyond that was through tiktok, that is it. So I'll be taking heavy inspirations from the first three regions.

Pairing the element to a character wasn't too hard actually. So first I focused on the archons, and I looked at the dorm leaders and what they stand for and what type of magic they use.

We know Riddle uses a lot of fire magic based off his SSR Dorm Uniform card. Additionally, the color scheme just went well with his hair color and the roses and all. At first I thought it seemed uncanny, because how could a green region based off of Britain be symbolic of the pyro element? Well, then I considered that since it borders Savanaclaw, it could make sense.

For Leona, I took into account the volcanoes that act as a natural border between his land and Riddle's. Additionally, his unique magic made it a very easy choice. I mean, turning things to sand? Slapping Geo on it and calling it a day.

On Azul's, I was actually torn. I know it seems like an obvious choice of hydro, but listen, at first I actually considered giving Kalim hydro due to his own unique magic. Then I thought maybe Azul would get cryo, but in my mind, leaving the other elements to the remaining characters just didn't make much sense. So, ultimately, Azul won the hydro element.

Giving Kalim the dendro element just happened to coincidentally align with the Sumeru region's main element. I wanted to give Kalim the next best thing if he couldn't have hydro, which was dendro. As I see it as a very "good" element with positive qualities, which he deserves.

Vil was one of the others that gave me trouble when assigning him an element. For a very brief moment, I considered giving him dendro, but that just didn't fit the sort of aesthetic I had in mind for him. Then I remember what his home region is supposed to look like, if it's similar to Epel's, it's snowy, right? So cryo was the next best option. I think it actually fits him well, if I do say so myself.

Idia was the last character to give me trouble. For a while I really was not sure about giving him the anemo element, as he just seemed like the complete opposite of Venti and his ideals. However, the longer I thought about, the more I came to terms with it. Wind doesn't have to mean just freedom. Wind can be very terrifying too, like what we see in Stormterror's Lair which is the sort of aesthetic I imagined when I finally assigned him anemo.

I mean, duh, of course Malleus was getting electro. What else did you expect? I mean, there was a second where I considered giving electro to Idia, but then giving anemo to Malleus didn't sit right with me. Electro was ultimately the best choice for this archon. It's constantly used in the games around him, he has control over it, it just made sense to give him this element.

Any other characters that are not archons will have their elemental type be based off the region they're from. HINT HINT. For example, Riddle may be pyro as he is the archon, but at least one person in Heartslabyul will not have the pyro element.

[harmonyrae]

A Sovereign is Born

Synopsis: A story he never thought he'd tell, his own. How did he become the Abysm Sovereign, a monster to so many? Who was he before?

My submission for the Where Drakeshadows Fall Fan Art Contest

Content Warnings: Spoilers for Sylus's Myth, Grief, Death of Loved One, Physical Pain (mentions of the horn/tail transformation), Sylus POV

Word Count: 5.9k

It’s not unusual for Sylus to sit up and read for an hour or so after waking up. He enjoyed waking up slowly and starting his day, or rather his night, challenging his mind. Leaning against his headboard, he propped his book up on his knee while he sipped his tea. However, the peace and quiet was short-lived. 

“That’s it! I can’t do it anymore!”

Her voice echoed down the hallway. A smirk spread across Sylus’s lips as he listened to her footsteps making their way to his bedroom door. The door swung open, but Sylus kept his eyes glued to the book before him. He felt the bed shift heavily beside him. He looked over to see she had face planted right into the plush black comforter. Her hair was tossed into a messy bun, her usual Hunters gear replaced with a pair of red sweatpants and a t-shirt three sizes too big. Sylus’s smirk turned into a full blown smile.

“Is that my shirt?” 

She lifted her head and blew a strand of hair away from her nose, completely ignoring his question. 

“I haven’t been able to sleep for the past 2 nights. I’m - I don’t know what to do…”

“So you came here?”

“I’ve tried everything - warm milk, ocean sounds, meditation, no caffeine or screen time after I get home from work, melatonin gummies. Nothing has worked. So yes, I came here.”

She dropped her face back onto the comforter. Sylus tilted his head, clearly enjoying seeing his kitten in such a desperate state that she came to him for help. As various ideas floated through his mind, one stuck with him.

“Do you know why I love reading so much?”

“Hmm?” She didn’t bother to lift her head to respond. Sylus could tell she was past her breaking point. He had already decided he would do everything he could to help her relax and fall asleep tonight.

“Stories take me to far away places or back in time. That escape, no matter how brief, eases my mind. Stories speak to the soul.”

She lifted her head and looked at Sylus with wide eyes.

“Tell me a story!”

Sylus chuckled. She sat up on her knees and clasped her hands in front of her.

“Sylus, I never beg. But… please? Please tell me a story?”

“On one condition.”

She scooted closer to him, seeming to agree without knowing the terms.

“You tuck yourself into this bed and call out of work tomorrow. You need more than just one night to recover from insomnia.”

“Sylus! I’m not- I’m…”

“Sweetie, I just woke up, remember? You’ll have the bed to yourself all night.”

“Oh… uhm…” She sighed heavily. “Deal.”

She rolled off the bed and kicked off her slippers. Peeling the comforter back, she slid between the sheets and let out a contented sigh as she settled in. Turning on her side to look at him, she smiled. “Story time!”

Sylus closed his book and set it on his nightstand. He pressed his lips thinking about the story he was going to tell. Would it be too much for her? Would it be too sad? He cleared his throat in an attempt to smother the anxiety.

“Are you sure my story will interest you? It’s not a happy story. Quite sad actually. And it involves dragons.”

“Ooh dragons! Yes, tell me, tell me!” 

Her excitement made his heart swell. His nerves, much less troublesome. 

“I just have to decide what to name the main character.”

“Sylus.”

“Yes?”

“No, name them Sylus!”

“You want me to name the main character after myself?”

“Why not? It’ll be like you’re talking in third person.”

Sylus pinched the bridge of his nose and forced a smile. The story he was about to tell just became infinitely more challenging. But he nodded.

“Okay, they’ll be named Sylus then.”

He crossed his arms and braced himself, prepared to tell a story he had long ago promised to never tell a soul.

“In a time before humans, dragons occupied the land. And before Sylus - well, dragon Sylus that is -  was born, a great war was being fought between clans. His father was fighting on the front lines, while his mother protected her egg. She never left her nest, even as news from the front took a turn, she focused on taking care of her unhatched child.”

She smiled and pulled the blankets up to her chin. Sinking deeper into the plush mattress.

“Sadly, Sylus never got to meet his father. When word reached his mother, she immediately flew to the front. Leaving her egg to search for her lover to say a final goodbye. The war had already ended and the spring flowers had started to bloom when she arrived. She couldn’t find him, all she could do was roar into the night sky, mourning her lost love. And as quickly as she flew to that datura covered field, she returned to her child. The egg showed the first signs of cracking during the days she was away. She was terrified that leaving the way she did would mean her child wouldn’t survive.”

“But they did.” She whispered.

“Yes, they did. When the egg broke open, she was shocked to see a creature unlike anything she’d ever seen before. It didn’t look like a dragon. Pale skin, tufts of white hair.”

He winked at her and she giggled in response. Her eyes softened as her imagination took over.

“She was shunned by many mothers in the clan. They believed she had been cursed for leaving the egg the way she did. But she didn’t believe that, not for a moment. She saw him as a blessing. Even if she didn’t understand why he was so different. She would make a pilgrimage to the field every spring to pay respect. Eventually, Sylus wanted to go with her. And here, kitten, is where the story really begins.”

Sylus clung to his mother as she flew. Her ebony scales shimmered in the sunlight. Her crimson wings outstretched, steady and fluttering gently in the wind. Spring had started early this year, the air was warm and the floral scent washed over her, bringing tears to her ruby eyes. 

“Will I ever be able to fly?”

His small voice broke as asked. He’d been asking the same question for years. The only dragon-like features that he had were his talons and scales, which had slowly started to spread across his arms in spare patches, chest and up his neck when he had turned 5. There’ve been no new developments in the past 5 years. He still had no horns or tail, and of course, no wings. 

“I hope so. But remember what I told you?”

Sylus collapsed onto his mother, his arms swayed against her neck as his face pressed into her back. She felt the chill of a tear run over her scales. She flapped her wings hard, pushing them higher into the sky above the clouds. Sylus squealed in response.

“Mother!”

She smiled, she could hear the excitement in his voice. She flew higher and higher until the clouds lay beneath them like a fluffy meadow. 

“Stand up.”

Sylus didn’t hesitate. He dug his claws into her scales, anchoring himself before he placed his feet firmly on her back. She leveled out and let her wings spread wide to allow them to glide. He removed his claws and eventually let go completely. She looked over her shoulder to see his arms outstretched and his face painted with a smile. The fabric of his tunic billowed in the breeze, the arms cut loose to imitate wings.

“Better?”

Sylus giggled and flapped his arms, feeling the fabric flutter.

“Better.”

“We’re almost there, you think you can hold on for a dive?”

He looked down at his mother with wide eyes, his sharp teeth on full display as he smiled. He nodded and dropped to his knees to cling to his mother ready for the descent. She tucked in her wings and angled her nose downward, diving through the clouds and straight for the ground. Sylus laughed and shouted as wind nearly deafened them and the ground grew closer. His mother finally flung her wings out and the updraft pushed them upwards before slowly descending to the field.

Sylus slid down his mothers wing and rolled onto the ground. He lay on his back, savoring the feeling of solid ground beneath him. As much as he loved flying, it made him appreciate the safety of the ground. He rolled over on his stomach and watched his mother walk into the field. She settled at the top of a hill and wrapped her wings around herself before lowering her head to the ground. Sylus frowned. The excitement of the flight momentarily made him forget the purpose of the trip.

Sylus jogged up the hill to his mother. He sat down next to her head, which was nearly three sizes larger than he was. If he was a normal dragon he might be half her size by now, but whatever “cursed” him made sure he would always be tiny in comparison to his kin. He shoved those thoughts away for now, leaning against his mother and using the ends of his tunic to dry her tears. It was always a hard trip, his mother mourned the loss of his father as if it was only yesterday she lost him. 

“Tell me the story.” Sylus nudged his mother. She let out a soft growl in response. 

“Sylus…”

“Come on, you know it helps. Tell me!”

She sighed, her breath blowing the petals off of hundreds of flowers that sat before her. 

“When I first met your father, he was just a young dragon learning how to fly. I was, of course, performing better than he was in class. He would antagonize me during class, but during the journey home he would stay close to me, telling me stories about far away cities he had heard of and wished to see. When we came of age, he never gave any indication he liked me in any way. But when our first mating season began, he approached me and I was rather shocked.”

“He had a crush on you and you didn’t even know it. Embarrassing.”

“For me or for him? Being direct is always better. Don’t be embarrassed about what you desire.”

Sylus scrunched his nose, but nodded before settling back against his mother.

“It was rather impressive at first, but I think he got too cocky. He tripped over his tail and rammed his nose into a boulder. Everyone laughed and my friends urged me to ignore him, a better mate would present themselves. But –”

“But you didn’t want another mate, you wanted him!’ Sylus finished for her.

“I did. I wanted your father. Everyone thought I was crazy and mocked me for choosing a weak mate. But in just a few months he –”

“He proved himself to be the fiercest warrior and became the commander of all warriors in our clan!”

“You know the story better than I do it seems.” She laughed. “He wasn’t just strong, he was brave. He didn’t care what anyone thought of him. I loved him dearly and miss him everyday.”

She nudged Sylus with her snout. 

“And you remind me of him.”

“But I’m not even a real dragon. And I’ll never be a warrior.”

“You are stronger than you know. Being different doesn't make you weak and it doesn’t mean you can’t be a warrior. You have a purpose Sylus. I know it.”

Sylus stared at her, tears filling his eyes. 

“I just want to be like you. Like father.” 

“And you are. You don’t have to look like us to share our heart. Our strength.” 

Sylus never stopped wanting to look like a normal dragon, but over the years he started embracing his natural strength. Stubborn like his mother and cunning like his father, he proved himself to be a respected and valued member of the clan.

Sylus was 16 when the humans came. Tension in the clans grew as new inhabitants moved closer to their valley. And then they invaded. Clan after clan fell, their weapons were strong enough to pierce scales and shred wings. His mother protected him, but she wasn’t able to keep them away forever.

The afternoon sun cast a red glow across the valley, Sylus clung to his mother as she flew. Her strength was dwindling, her wounds were deep. Sylus had tried to treat them, but she wanted to get away from their army as quickly as possible. 

“You have to stop, you’re hurt!”

He felt her drop several feet, her wings refusing to hold them up. She straightened her neck, pointing herself in the direction of the cave they had called home for the past few years. But when they finally approached the entrance, she couldn’t make it inside. Her claws scraped along the mountain side and Sylus could barely hold on. She came to a halt on a small ledge, her body collapsing, her wings draped over the edge of the cliff. Sylus crawled over her body, tugging off his tunic to press into her wounds.

“We have to get you inside, they’ll see you. Mother?”

Sylus couldn’t hide the fear in his voice. His hands shook as he treated her wounds. His mother let out a strangled roar. She was in too much pain to be quiet, Sylus knew they’d have heard her. They’d come for her and soon.

“I know it hurts, but you have to be quiet, you have to try, please.” 

Tears stung his eyes, his heart pounded in his chest. The headache he’d had for the past few days had become so much worse. His mother struggled to open her eyes, a haze muddying the usual red shimmer. 

“Be strong, my love. Always be strong.”

“Stop. Stop it! Don’t talk like that!” 

Pain washed over him as his scalp split open. His talons clawed at his head as he screamed. His mother shifted, with her remaining strength she wrapped her wing around him protectively. He fell to his side as his back arched, his tailbone transforming and his tail extending. His body calmed, but fear settled over him. He lifted his hands to feel the spiraling horns. He felt his body sway and he looked over his shoulder to see a tail sweep against the rock beneath him. 

“Mother?”

“I see them, my love. They’re beautiful.”

Sylus didn’t have time to process this sudden change. He’d waited 16 years to have horns and a tail, to be remotely similar to his kin, and now he would be hunted for having them. He resumed treating his mothers wounds, moving to the dagger stuck in her side. 

“I need to remove this, hold still okay?”

His mother let out a deep growl. He gripped the hilt and pulled with all his might. The blade shook as her scales scraped against it. He placed it on the ground and moved the cloth over the new wound. She wasn’t getting any better. With tears streaming down his face, he finally knelt next to his mother, trying to meet her eye.

“Mother?”

She looked at him through weary eyes, her breathing slow. 

“Please don’t leave me… I can’t… I don’t want to be alone.”

“You will never truly be alone. You are my beautiful warrior–”

Her chest shook as her eyes closed. Sylus collapsed beside her, his body shaking as he sobbed. He forced himself to sit up and run his hands along her face, her scales rough and shattered. He rested his forehead against her, the pain of his new horns and tail mingling with his heart breaking.

Then he heard it, shouts in the distance. He looked over the ledge and saw the humans. They were climbing the mountain towards him. They had seen his mothers body, he had to hide. He looked up at the cave entrance. He picked up the dagger before digging his claws into the rock and pulling himself up. 

“I see movement!”

Sylus swore under his breath, they’d seen him. He hauled himself up the mountain and rolled into the entrance to the cave. He stood and raced to the furthest corner, searching for a way out or a hole he could hide in. There was nothing. The shouts were getting closer now. He looked down at the blade in his hand. He looked down at his tail. It felt foreign to him, like it didn’t belong, like it wasn’t meant for him. Maybe it wasn’t….

He didn’t have time to talk himself out of it or think up another plan. He wanted to live. 

He pressed the dagger against the base of his horn, the cool metal made him shiver. He grit his teeth, a sob breaking free as he began to cut. The horn came loose and he held it in his hands. He threw it to the other side of the cave and began on the other horn. The pain was almost too much to bear. The horn fell away and blood trickled down his face. The stream poured into his eye and he blinked away the sting, but not before feeling a strange warmth spread through his mind.

He heard the sound of blades and more shouts. They’d reached his mother. He held his breath to stop himself from screaming in anger. 

He blinked back more tears as he placed the blade under his tail. Bracing himself against the wall of the cave he sank down. His tail fell away and Sylus collapsed. He crawled to the opposite corner of the cave, leaving a blood trail behind him. He pulled his legs to his chest, his heart aching, his skin stinging, his eyes burning. The shouts are right outside the cave now. He didn’t have any strength left, if this was it, he couldn’t stop it. He felt an inexplicable exhaustion take over and he slipped into darkness.

Her face. Bright, soft, sweet. The dress she wore. The dark fabric flowing and fluttering in the wind. She held red datura flowers. She reached out a hand, a flower held between her delicate fingers. Sylus felt a subtle touch, as if the flower was tucked into his hair. And then darkness, once again.

Sylus opened his eyes slowly, the room spinning around him as he woke. He stared at the blank ceiling above him, a faint scent of herbs wafting through the air. He turned his head to see a man crouched next to a small fire, mixing something in a cauldron. Sylus coughed. The man looked up and gave him a small smile. He scooped something into a wooden bowl before approaching Sylus.

Sylus tried to sit up, a combination of fear and curiosity settled over him. The man offered him the bowl with a wooden spoon. Sylus cautiously took it.

“Root soup, it’s not much, but it’s all we’ve had for the past few days. Should help with that cough too.”

The steam from the soup warmed his face. He took a spoonful and sipped, the warm broth soothed his throat. He dropped the spoon onto the blanket beneath him and tipped the bowl back taking large gulps. The man laughed.

“You’ve been asleep for two days, I figured you would be pretty hungry. There’s plenty left.”

Sylus finished the soup before looking over at the man properly for the first time. He shifted uncomfortably, his back still tender.

“Where am I?”

“You’re with Judicator’s finest - his dragon slaying army! We are a day's journey away from the city.”

“The city?”

“Ivory City! You must be from a neighboring village, taken by those beasts. It’s good we found you when we did. Seems you fought off the beast and kept yourself from being a meal! The Judicator was impressed.”

Sylus clenched his fist. They’re calling his mother a beast. They think he killed her? That he is human? He suddenly reached up to his head, but felt no horns, only fabric.

“Your head was bleeding pretty bad when we found you. A doctor in the city will get a better look at you tomorrow. For now, the bleeding stopped.” 

The man took the bowl from Sylus and returned to the cauldron to ladle in more soup. Sylus heard blades clash outside and the faint sounds of hooves against gravel in the distance. He realized they’re in a tent. He’s surrounded by humans. The humans that killed his kin. Who killed his mother. A heat rages beneath his skin, his chest heaving. Sylus closed his eyes to calm himself. 

“More soup?”

Sylus opened his eyes and took the bowl eagerly. He sipped slowly this time, still not bothering with the spoon. He took in the man’s features. Old, black hair speckled with white, a long beard, silver armor, a long sword hung at his hip. He wondered if all the men in this camp had weapons like that. Sylus straightened his back, becoming acutely aware of how defenseless he was. No weapons to defend himself. No wings to escape. 

“Thank you.”

The man nodded. 

“I must report to the Judicator, he wanted to know when you woke up. Get some more rest or explore the camp, but don’t go far.”

With that, the man left. Sylus set the bowl down and reached behind him to feel the base of his spine. The skin is tender, but no tail. He felt his head one more, the skin smooth where the horns once were. He sighed in relief. They thought he was human, maybe he had a chance. 

Sylus spotted a set of clothes in the corner of the room. He stood and held up the clothing before him. They appeared to be his size and made of quality fabric. Much better than what he could find to clothe himself in years past. He stripped off his dirty clothing and pulled on the black pants and sleeveless tunic. The pants were a few sizes too big, but the buckles on the waist secured them nicely. He stepped out of the tent and squinted against the setting sun. At least a hundred men are camped here. There are dozens of tents propped up across the field and horses grazed nearby.

He strolled through the camp, taking in the humans gathered around campfires. Like his kin, they varied in appearance greatly. Some tall, some short, some thin, some wide. Some with hair on their face or no hair at all. He rubbed a hand along his jaw, feeling no hair, only the ridge of the patch of scales that ran up his neck toward his ear. He covered the scales with his hand, panic settling over him as he wondered what the humans thought of his scales. 

Sylus quickly ran to a stream just on the outskirts of the camp. He crouched and looked for his reflection in the water. The moonlight lit up his face, making his silver hair glow. The water settled and he gasped at his reflection. He appeared… normal. He looked like all the other men in the camp. He ran a finger along the scales on his chest, feeling their rough texture, but seeing nothing but smooth skin. He lifted his hands, his talons appeared to be replaced by slender fingers. When his gaze returned to his face, he saw himself smiling. 

“I look like them?” Sylus whispered.

For the first time in his life, he wasn’t sad or angry about his appearance. He’d wanted horns, a tail and wings for as long as he could remember. But now, he was surrounded by creatures that looked like him. And his “curse” had, somehow, masked the remaining features that set him apart. He leaned back on his heels and looked up to the moon. 

“What do I do now?”

His heart ached. Could he really stay with these humans? The ones who killed his own mother? Learn to live like them? Embrace his appearance and suppress his draconic desires? He stood up and walked further from camp, toward the steep slope leading back into the valley he had called home his entire life. As he gazed out over the horizon, he saw a flicker of firelight, the faintest hint of smoke rising into the sky.

“We burned the bodies. We didn't want to risk some kind of filthy disease washing its way into the rivers and streams as they decayed.”

A deep voice rang out behind him. Sylus flinched.

“Didn’t mean to frighten you, young man. I was concerned when I didn’t find you in your tent.”

“I’m sorry, I just… I wanted to take a walk. I didn’t know…”

“It’s perfectly fine. I was surprised you strayed so far from camp. Given all that you’ve been through.”

Sylus nodded. He wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly feeling cold and uncertain in the man's presence. 

“I’ve built my army to fight even the most foul of beasts. You’re safe now.”

Sylus looked back to the valley. This man must be the Judicator, the one who started all of this. Who started the war against his kind. Sylus had a thousand questions, questions he never thought he’d get the answer to, let alone ask. But one gnawed at him and he couldn’t stop himself. 

“Why?”

The man walked up beside Sylus, looking over at him with a brow raised in confusion.

“Why did you want the dragons gone?”

The man laughed, his voice deep and cruel. He slapped Sylus on the shoulder. Sylus bit his tongue to avoid saying something he would regret.

“Because those beasts only know one thing. Desire. And desire leads to corruption and greed. They were evil and it was my duty to rid these lands of their kind. I am proud of what I’ve accomplished.There are no dragons left to destroy the souls of my people.”

Sylus felt his chest tighten, his anger and disgust making it hard for him to breathe. His heart felt like it was breaking yet again. The pressure behind his eyes building as he pinched them closed. His eyes flew open when he felt a familiar twinge of pain tickle his scalp.

“Why do you ask boy? Did they fill your head with their lies?”

The pain was so intense Sylus couldn’t speak. Fear paralysed him. He silently prayed to the only one he ever believed in. 

Mother, please. Don’t let them come back. Please…

But it was too late. He felt the flesh of his scalp split open once again and his body shook. He fell to the ground with his head in his hands. The man beside him lurched backwards, watching in horror as Sylus transformed. Sylus heard the footsteps of several men run toward them. His spine extended, his tail sweeping across the ground, knocking the Judicator off his feet.

“He’s a beast!” “How can this be?” “Is he a dragon?” “He doesn’t look like one, but he has horns! And a tail!” “He’s a horror!”

The Judicator stood over Sylus, peering down at his slumped form. He unsheathed his blade and kicked Sylus over onto his back.

Sylus groaned in pain, his tail coiling around him in a weak attempt to protect himself. He held his hands out, tears stinging his eyes as he tried to steady his breathing to speak.

“Please… don’t…”

“You disguise yourself and lie your way into our camp?! You intended to destroy our city! You foul creature!”

Sylus tried to crawl away from the crowd now gathering around him. His elbows sunk into the mud and his heels scrambling to gain traction. Other men were retrieving their weapons. Sylus gathered his remaining strength to dig his heels in and straighten his back, his legs shook as he stood. His hands still in front of him, shaking his head as he backed away from the men.

“We will not be fooled by you! You are a fiend. An evil, vile creature! You will not corrupt our souls!”

The Judicator lunged forward, Sylus reached out to try to stop the blade, but the man was too fast. His blade pierced Sylus’s chest. Sylus held the blade, as he stared into the eyes of the Judicator, the man sneered, pleased to see the fear in Sylus’s eyes.

Sylus gasped, the tears in his eyes spilled over, mixing with the dirt and blood across his face. He placed a foot behind him, trying to steady himself, but his tail swiped at the crowd viciously. Men went flying and some tumbled over the edge of the cliff into the valley below. 

“Stop him!” The men shouted as they rushed towards Sylus.

In a flash, a dozen swords were thrust toward him. Sylus felt every jab, his body weakening with every blow. The Judicator stood before him, watching his men attack the dragon boy. A prideful smile plastered on his face. Sylus kept his eyes trained on the man, he became numb to the pain, only feeling his body being shoved. 

Sylus fell to his knees, his hands crashing to the ground before him. He looked down to see half a dozen blades pierced through his chest. A sob broke free from his ravaged chest. He saw boots before him, the Judicators booming voice louder than his men's victory chants.

“The final dragon has been slain.”

He bent down and took the hilt of his sword, placing a foot on Sylus’s chest to gain leverage, he yanked the sword free kicking Sylus backward. Sylus tumbled backwards, his foot caught the edge of the cliff. He didn’t try to stop himself from falling, he closed his eyes as the wind howled in his ears. He felt the rocks of the cliffside against his back, his legs, his arms, his face as he rolled. The blades dislodged themselves and clanged against the rocks as they fell with him. 

Sylus hit the rocky base of the valley with a brutal thud, the metallic clinks of the swords falling all around him. He had no strength left. He forced his eyes open when he heard the sound of shouts above him. Men poured over the side of the cliff, making their way down using rope, some swinging from rock to rock. Their quick descent stirred something in Sylus. 

He was familiar with rage, but this was different. The pain his body felt transformed into something white hot. His legs burned as he stood. He stared up at the men climbing down to him. His right eye watered, it stung with every blink. Sylus wiped at his eye, but felt no tears. His vision darkened as his chest shook with something akin to laughter. Then everything went dark.

Her face, once again. Framed with silky strands of white hair. Her hand. Clutched a weapon of some kind. A sword? A faint golden glow swirled around her fingers and arm as she lifted the blade. Sylus felt the same searing pain in his chest. Blood splattered across her skin. Tears fell from her eyes. 

“Sylus…” She whispered.

A gust of cold air swept across his face and he shivered in response. His eyes fluttered open, a blue sky filled with soft white clouds floating above him. Beams of sunlight broke through the clouds and shone down upon him. He felt the warmth and took a deep breath, that’s when he felt it, the pain. He lifted his head to see the wounds scattered across his body. He sat up, clutching his chest as he looked around. 

Bodies surround him, men he saw at the camp. Sylus crawled to a boulder and used it to help him stand. Did he do this? How? And why did he feel so free and happy at the sight? A laugh bubbled up through his throat, catching him by surprise. The memory of his mother teaching him about the ancient dragon curse flooded his mind. Rage. Anger. Hatred. Something stronger. It took over and now…

Sylus walked further into the valley. He looked down to see a black red mist swirling toward him from the corpses. The mist felt refreshing, like a burst of cool air on a hot summer day. The mist swirled around his tail, up his spine to his horns, across his face and down his arms before funneling into his chest. The wound the Judicators sword had created glowed. He felt the wound close, but what replaced the flesh is bright like a ruby. The other wounds closed and his strength slowly returned as the mist continued to swirl around him.

With his wounds healed he felt the tension in his back grow. He hunched over and lurched forward, bracing his hands against the cliffside. The skin of his back split open, the pressure finally released and Sylus threw his head back letting out a roar. Crimson wings burst forth from the wounds. They stretch outwards, the breeze dusting over the newly exposed flesh. Sylus' chest heaved as he looked over his shoulder at his wings. He has wings. Wings. 

He stood up straight. His tail swayed and his wings fluttered, eager to take flight. He hadn’t seen the Judicator among the bodies. He also hadn’t seen that girl. He didn’t know why he dreamt of her, but he’d seen her twice. She wasn’t there. Who was she? 

He clenched his fists and closed his eyes, shaking the image of her from his mind.

“If humans want a monster, they’ll get one.”

Sylus took a breath and flapped his wings hard, allowing instinct to take over.It was a foreign sensation, but as soon as his feet left the ground he sighed. Years of wishing to fly and here he is, flying over a valley filled with bodies. 

He soared over the valley and towards the fields he had visited so often as a child. Tears sting his eyes as he lowered himself to the ground. He sat among the datura flowers, most withering in the summer heat. He picked one up and held it between his claws, allowing the tears to finally fall as he mourned the loss of his kin, his mother and the person he was. Only the monster remained. 

“You were right. That is a sad story.”

Her words are slurred, fatigue finally winning the war. Sylus shifts slowly and leans towards her, lifting his hand to gently brush the hair out of her face. 

“Is that really the end? Who was the girl? Did he find that judi-ma-cator guy?”

Sylus chuckles under his breath. His thumb moves to her cheek, stroking her soft skin. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was slow and steady. She was nearly asleep.

“He did find the Judicator. And the girl… she was very important to him. The most important actually. But that’s a story for another time. Sleep. I’ll turn out the light.”

She lifts her hand to cover his, trapping it over her face. 

“Wait.”

She stares up at him, her tired eyes glistening.

“At least tell me if he had a happy ending?”

Sylus gently removes her hand from over his. He pulls the blanket up over her shoulders and leans over to press a kiss to her temple. She closes her eyes once more, finally letting sleep take her. He smiles as he takes in her delicate features. He carefully stands and turns off the lamp beside the bed. He strolls to the door, but turns back to look at her before leaving.

“His story isn’t over yet.” He whispers.

He opens the door and gently closes it behind him, leaving his beloved to sleep peacefully.

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22

AN: I have no idea if this will be allowed to compete because it is pretty intense, but I wanted to write this regardless. I always crave the boys POV so this was a must. I hope you guys like it - and cry with me... If you want to give the X post some love, it's linked below.

X Post: (posting now)

[bookclubforme]

Fuck all of Xaden’s simp point of views. I would trade my left tit for Liam’s POV when he gets moved into Violet’s squad.

First of all, I’m assuming Xaden had an actual conversation where he asked Liam, but did he actually explain to him it was because Violet was attacked in her sleep? Did Xaden give Liam a run down on Dain being her childhood best friend? That she and Rhi are friends because Violet gave her a boot on parapet?

Because Xaden’s usual level of communication leads me to think that the extent of that conversation was “Liam, I need you to protect Violet, because if she dies I die.” “Sure, anything for you, Xaden.”

I’m just going feral imagining Liam trying to sus things out when Xaden dumps him in the squad.

First of all, Violet and Xaden get into a pissing match about Liam being added to the squad that has people gasping that she’s talking to a wing leader like that.

Then their squad leader is overly concerned about her very visible bruises, drawing attention from everyone around them about it.

And then there’s a wild turn out of nowhere, because while Panchek is setting up for the disciplinary stuff, they start teasing Ridoc about sleeping with the XO for 2nd wing, and with no prompting, Little Ms. Violet Sorrengail goes:

“I miss sex.”

Ma’am, you’re supposed to be the smart one. The commandant has just announced their was a codex violation, and you know that you just told your wing leader who has a vested interest in your safety about a codex violation against you last night, and you get so distracted by your own horniess that you don’t even think that it’s about you when you hear the announcement? Get it together Violet.

That is one of the very first things that Liam ever hears Violet say. The first five minutes that he gets to be around Violet, and see her around her friends and one of the very first things she does is publically admit she’s horny.

Liam is right behind her, and right beside Ridoc. So judging by the fact that Ridoc hears it and responds, Liam ABSOLUTELY heard her.

And Liam doesn’t have any context to know that when Ridoc offers to have sex with Violet, and Violet teases him back with amending her statement to ‘I miss good sex,’ that she isn’t teasing Ridoc because they had sex before! Liam could totally absolutely hear that exchange and think that Violet and Ridoc had a thing.

Liam is standing there, watching Violet have a weird moment with her squad leader, flirt with another one of her squadmates, all while the proceedings for a public execution are starting. That is his first impression of the woman he is now responsible for keeping alive.

And Liam probably also somewhat knows Ridoc and Violet from comments they make in classes. Violet’s smart, Ridoc’s the class clown. But the first impression they both make is “Horny and screwing around the chain of command”

Granted, both Violet and Ridoc get it together and both of them come to the marked one’s defense during the execution proceedings. Ridoc outright calls Nadine out for being biased against the marked one’s.

Just the idea that Liam’s first impression of his new squad mates is “horny, but good people” is so funny to me.

We were absolutely robbed of a scene of the iron squad sitting around talking about all their first impressions and Liam just absolutely teasing them about how horny they came across.

[tuesday-teyz]

Butterfly Reign chapter 40 😧

Hi!

First of all, I just wanted to say how much I love Butterfly Reign—your writing is incredible, and I’ve been absolutely hooked from the start. I think I started reading when there were only about 10 chapters out, which feels like a lifetime ago!

I just finished chapter 40, and I’ve been thinking a lot about the direction the story took, particularly regarding Theseus and Wilbur. Their relationship has been such a complex and emotional journey, and I’ve really enjoyed seeing them work through their issues. Honestly, it’s crazy to think back to when I first started reading, and how I would’ve been rooting for Theseus to get his revenge, but now, with everything that’s happened, I didn’t expect the story to take such a tragic turn.

While I’m still deeply invested in the story, I’m curious about a few things—particularly the choice to have Wilbur die. I’ve been wondering, how long have you had this planned? I noticed the MCD tag from the beginning, so I’m wondering if this was always the direction you intended to take their characters or if it evolved as the story developed?

I’d also love to know your thoughts on Theseus’s actions here (without giving away any spoilers ofc). In the context of the story (obviously not condoning murder in real life 😭), do you think Theseus did what he had to do? Do you see him as someone who is still redeemable, or do you think that this was a mistake in his journey? I ask because, even though I’ve been the number one Theseus defender (his rights and wrongs) throughout the story, I found myself struggling with this moment. It’s the first time I’ve felt so conflicted about his character. I’m really curious about your perspective as the author, especially when it comes to the moral complexities in his decision.

Thank you so much for sharing this story— and I can’t wait to see what comes next! (even though i'm not yet willing to except that it shall continue BR!crimboys-less) at least give me hope for Br!discduo if nothing else

Hi, thank you for the ask, it made my morning!

To answer your questions, it's a little complex when exactly the decision came about. In my original outline back in 2022, this whole scene did not actually involve any fire. Instead, it was Theseus and Fundy stranded on the lake as ice begins to crack. Wilbur gets Fundy to safety first, and then when he comes back for Theseus, they fall through. From there on, there were two versions of this scene that I fluctuated between: one, Wilbur cuts the rope connecting them and lets himself drown, and two, the same happens but both of them get saved by a third outside force. This is followed up by Wilbur falling into a coma and being absent for the rest of the fic, sans the epilogue where we see him awake. Simply put, it was never my plan for Wilbur to be present in the final arc; he simply has no place there. His story was always meant to end in this chapter.

However, as time went on, I realized that using a coma is a very cheap (for the lack of a better word) way to write off a character, and his death by sacrifice did not feel right. As I mentioned in another post, br!Wilbur was, off and on, for nearly a decade, br!Tommy's abuser. To have someone who caused so much pain for him die saving him didn't sit right with me. Tommy was working for so long on accepting his past and unlearning the behaviors Wilbur brought up in him that it felt like an injustice and a poor message besides to basically say 'oh well he loved you at the end of the day'. And exploring his death from the point of view Tommy being relieved by it and feeling guilty at the same time is too repetetive of the story itself from when Wilbur ran away the first time. That's when the decision for Tommy to kill Wilbur was born.

So short answer: Wilbur's story was always meant to end at this moment. The idea for murder hatched during the travel arc.

I could not tell you exactly when did I realize that the plot was heading towards Tommy killing Wilbur, but I very firmly stand by the point that it's something that has been brewing up in the background unbeknownst even to me. The thing, Tommy has always been a killer. You have always known him as one (Clara was killed by him 3 years into the past), even though you didn't know his full backstory. An important part of this arc in its entirety is that it's Tommy unpacking and healing from the trauma he experienced 6 to 3 years ago. When Tommy gets sick and Wilbur takes care of him – that's 11 year old Tommy getting closure from Wilbur leaving him behind, and trading their family for the life of a commoner and a family of his own. It's not about them learning to be different in the future; it's about them mending the past. At no point at all this was meant to be about redeeming Wilbur.

Off to the next question: was this necessary? Did Tommy do what he had to?

Not at all. I address that in the chapter itself. I believe it's three different times that an image of Clara tells that Tommy must do it, meaning kill Wilbur, but the only time Tommy voices that thought himself (after the dialogue with Warden), the must changes to can. It's him taking agency over his own choices and acknowledging that he has this option and it's his decision to proceed with it. He tells Wilbur not to make excuses for him for Clara's death, knowing he's about to commit the same crime again.

As to how to feel about his actions – that's entirely up to you. You're not meant to feel a certain way about any of the characters, and especially not Tommy, but I am curious to hear your guys' thoughts and analysis. What do you think?

[silenzahra]

🌼 A lonely flower 🌼

It turns out today is a very special someone's birthday... 🤭🎂

... Sooo here's my present for my beloved bestie! 😄 Hope you like it, my dear @bberetd, and I'm wishing you the happiest of birthdays! 🥳🎂🎈👏💖

I came up with the idea for this Luaisy fic thanks to two sources of inspiration. The first one was this song that I adore so much and that, to this day, still speaks to me:

Here's the translation and here are my thoughts about it that ended up giving birth to this story.

And the other thing that was crucial for this fic to come to life was your own Luaisy story, Miraculous shelter, as I thought it worked perfectly well as some sort of follow-up for it. And thus I decided I wanted to surprise you with it, and what better day than today! 🥰 I sincerely hope you'll enjoy it, my dear bestie 🫂💖

As usual I'm posting this on both AO3 and Tumblr! You'll find nods to your story as well as some of my works such as Biggest fear and my post Luigi serenades Daisy. And also a little bit of @vulpixfairy1985's story A moment together as it's becoming customary for me 🤭

Speaking of which, I would like to especially thank my big sister @vulpixfairy1985 as well as @megamagimugi and @itsavee4117 for keeping the secret for so long, and if you're interested in reading this story, I sincerely hope you'll enjoy it as well! 🥰

@peaches2217 @pepperycar @kelbreyworshipper @teegeeteegee @dragon-fly34 @kimasousparky @artycomicfangirl @mikibaby94 @smokszyvverstar @eleventhhourfactor Hope it's okay that I tag you too in case you'd like to read this fic, but of course it's more than fine if you aren't!

✨ AO3 LINK ✨

(I don't know why, but AO3 links aren't working on Tumblr today, or perhaps it's just me lol. I'll edit the post as soon as it's fixed).

I really hope you enjoy, and as always, likes, kudos, reblogs and comments on either site are more than welcome 💖

🌼 A lonely flower 🌼

When Luigi arrives in Sarasaland to, once again, surprise his beloved princess, whom he misses deeply, he did not expect at all what he was going to find.

He thought it would be almost like the first time he came to visit her unannounced. He thought that, perhaps, he’d find her overwhelmed, maybe even stressed, the light in her eyes, always as bright as a star, dulled by the amount of work that her royal duties force her to do and which, for her, implies a greater effort than for others. Her tireless energy pushes her to be always active, always moving, but her responsibilities as future empress of Sarasaland require that she spends a lot of time sitting still and concentrating on the same task.

It's too much for her.

Still, never in a million years would Luigi have expected to find his vivacious and always cheerful girlfriend crying alone.

For a few moments, Luigi stands in the doorway, paralyzed, his fist inches from the wood, ready to knock. The ajar door gives him a glimpse inside of Daisy, sitting on her bed, shrinking in on herself and trembling slightly, her crown forgotten on the bedside table. Her muffled sobs are like daggers stabbing deep into Luigi's soul, and he’s torn between keeping silent so as not to startle her or rushing to her side and hugging her with all his might. The last thing he wants is to scare her, or to feel like he’s meddling where he’s not wanted, but his most primal instinct, that which is overflowing with love for his Fiore, screams at him to run and allow her to find refuge in his arms.

In the end, as he watches Daisy, with her back to him, cover her face with her hands to try to silence her crying, Luigi decides on an intermediate option. He finally knocks his fist against the door gently as he steps into the room, not without a certain shyness.

“Knock, knock,” he murmurs as he does so, smiling an unsure smile. “May I?”

Despite his attempts not to make too much noise, Luigi witnesses Daisy's slight startle. He sees her clasp her hands against her face and hears her faintly hiccup, and he stands still until she mumbles a soft “Come in.” Despite this, Luigi enters the room slowly, insecurity bubbling in his chest. What if he's making a mistake? What if what Daisy needs is to be alone? What if he is, in effect, meddling where he's not called?

When he's halfway between the door and Daisy's bed, she finally turns to him. Unwillingly, Luigi stops in his tracks as he’s once again paralyzed by the immense sadness dancing in her beautiful blue eyes, reddened from crying, some traces of which still remain on her freckled cheeks. Even so, Daisy tries to mask it all with a smile and, seeing him stop, she gets up to be the one to close the distance between them.

“Sweetie,” she exclaims, and there’s a sincere joy in her voice, but Luigi can perfectly discern the absence of his girlfriend’s characteristic effusiveness that always shines in her tone when she addresses him. “You're here!”

She stretches out her arms to him and Luigi does the same by instinct, clasping in his fingers the hands of his brave princess, who squeezes him back even tighter. Maybe even with a subtle hint of desperation, Luigi would say. He watches her silently, worried, and notices how Daisy tries even harder to hide the fact that, just a few seconds ago, she was crying.

“How come you're here?” she asks, giving him a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

“I-I wanted to... surprise you,” Luigi finally says.

He tries to return her smile, but he’s sure that the only thing he’s managed to compose is a twisted and strange grimace.

“Well, you did,” she replies, letting out a chuckle that, despite not sounding fake, doesn't sound entirely authentic either.

It doesn't sound like Daisy.

“Did you bring cake today, too?” she asks before he can add anything.

Luigi takes a few seconds too long to register the information and try to give her an answer.

“N-no, I...”

He blinks, trying hard to focus, and responds as his mind tries to come up with the right way to address the issue Daisy is trying to hide.

“Actually today I was thinking... maybe we could go for a walk? I brought the ukulele.”

“Perfect!”

Daisy lets go and claps her hands in a way that feels somewhat more enthusiastic than usual. Playfully, she slips a hand under Luigi’s hat and ruffles his hair without looking him in the eye as she begins to turn her body to walk towards the door. Luigi, ignoring the fact that his cap is about to fall off, then understands that she’s about to leave without further ado, to continue pretending that she’s fine, that nothing is wrong. For a second he doubts whether he should say something or whether, perhaps, what Daisy needs is a distraction. To stop thinking about whatever has happened and have a nice time to help her cheer up.

But Luigi can't bear the thought that when it's time to say goodbye and his beloved girlfriend is alone again, she'll burst into tears once more and he won't be there to comfort her. From his own experience, he knows that the best thing to do is always to let it all out and keep nothing inside. It's what always works for him, and although he sometimes has a hard time getting Mario to open up, he knows that, like him, his brother also feels much better after expressing his feelings to him.

He may have even more work ahead of him with Daisy than with Mario, but that doesn't mean he's going to give up. He never would. Not with his brother, and not with his girlfriend.

So, with determination and the hat misplaced on his head, Luigi bends down to take his princess's hand gently, thus making her slow down and turn to him again.

“Daisy,” he says, his voice filled with concern, and his brow furrows slightly as he adds in a whisper, “Are you all right?”

For a few seconds, Daisy is silent and only holds his gaze, blue against blue. Luigi waits, ever patient, never pressuring her, but it’s not too long before, in front of his eyes, the beautiful face of his beloved princess crumbles completely.

Luigi's hand suddenly finds itself grasping at air, as Daisy, in one swift movement, brings both hands to her face to hide from him. Luigi can practically touch his fingers to the visible effort she’s making to hold back a sob, which, however, ends up bursting from her mouth, sounding muffled against her palms, though just as heartbreaking.

As soon as he notices Daisy's legs begin to buckle, Luigi rushes to wrap his arms around her and holds her tightly, squeezing her steadily as she falls and letting himself fall with her. Due to the strength of their embrace and the fact that the princess is cowering on herself, there’s a brief moment when Luigi's hat also covers Daisy's auburn head a little, before he removes it altogether and drops it haphazardly, more concerned about his Fiore than his tousled hair.

When their knees reach the ground, Luigi gently places a hand on Daisy's shoulder to pull her to him, and she, in tears, does not resist and lies on his chest. Luigi pulls her close and strokes her hair tenderly, his arms around her like a shield meant to protect her from any harm and create a safe, warm haven only for her.

His heart breaks with every sob that escapes Daisy's system, with every hiccup she emits, with every tear that wells up in her eyes. Luigi holds her tightly as she cries disconsolately in his arms, his left hand rubbing her back slowly, his right hand stroking her hair softly. His beloved princess seems so broken that he can't help but wonder... how could he not have seen this before? How has he been so blind as to not see it coming? Is he such a bad boyfriend that he’s incapable of realizing that his adored Fiore is suffering right in front of his eyes?

The ache in his chest increases, now spiced with guilt, and he deposits a soft kiss on his princess' hair as he notices that a few furtive tears start to flood his eyes. Daisy then pulls a hand away from her face and clutches the fabric of his overalls in her fingers, and the desperation in the gesture, in her voice overwhelmed by grief, in the side of her face that is now visible if he looks down, causes Luigi to squeeze his eyelids tightly and the tears to begin sliding down his cheeks. Daisy's pain is his pain.

She moves the hand she was holding over her face so that it now covers only her eyes. Luigi is then able to place his lips on her forehead in an attempt to comfort her and presses them gently for a few seconds to try to convey calm. His kiss is wet, damp from his own sadness, but he won't let that stop him. Daisy, his Daisy, his favorite flower in this and all universes, needs him, and Luigi is not going to fail her.

For several minutes, the two remain on the floor of the princess' room. Luigi doesn't relax his grip on his girlfriend for a moment, cradling her in his arms with all his affection, his fingers slowly and delicately running through her auburn, messy hair. Daisy, her head pressed to his chest, continues to hide her eyes with one hand while clutching his overalls with the other. She convulses in Luigi's arms from crying, and he, silently wailing, goes on kissing her forehead every few seconds, keeping his lips on her tanned skin for a little longer each time.

His thoughts wander in his head, intermingled with a myriad of feelings that imprison his heart like an ever-tightening claw. Daisy, his Fiore, his sassy, giggly princess, is suffering for something Luigi is not even able to suspect. She, who’s always been there for him, who has often comforted him, who on more than one occasion has followed him with her clothes on her back just to make sure he was all right. She, who has been the umbrella he needed when the downpour in his eyes flowed like a salty river. She, who has stayed by his side when everyone else, always with the exception of Mario, had left, and reminded him of who he is even when he himself had forgotten, encouraging him to wave his flag with pride.

She, who has made a huge place in his heart with all the love and adoration she has for him. She, who has taken over every inch of his body with her overwhelming personality and sparkling energy. She, who pronounces his name as if she were reciting poetry. She, who always makes him feel as if time has stopped every time they are in the same room.

She, who has taken over Luigi's life so much and has become so present in it that it's as if she were hung in every strand of his hair.

She, Daisy, his Fiore... she has been all this time suffering in silence and masking her pain so as not to worry him. Neither he nor his friends, of course. She has kept it all to herself and has only given it free rein once she was alone.

Probably, if Luigi hadn't caught her crying, who knows how much longer she would have kept it up. Maybe, in fact, he’d never have found out. Maybe that's the reason why Luigi didn't need to insist as he does with Mario: because, plain and simple, Daisy couldn't take it anymore.

Luigi sighs as he continues to hug her. And to think that he’s shown up at her home by surprise because the balloons he was giving to a Toad reminded him of her... One was green, his favorite color, and the other one was shiny gold. Exactly like the balloons that had made them float on that magical night when his brother took him to Sarasaland in his Odyssey ship so that he and Daisy could share an enchanting moment together. Seeing those colors blending together as the Toad happily drifted away with his balloons in hand made Luigi experience a sense of suffocating anguish that, as he well knew, could only be cured if he was fortunate enough to behold his beautiful Fiore in front of him once more.

And he’s been able to do so, yes... but the feeling of anguish has only increased in his chest as he found her submerged in such a state of extreme sadness.

He wouldn’t be at all surprised if his princess hated him. He’s been an absolutely horrible and despicable boyfriend. He’s remained oblivious to her pain and hasn’t been able to reciprocate her as she deserves. He’s certainly earned it in spades that Daisy doesn't want to be with him anymore, that she doesn't want to see him again, that she doesn't want to share one more measly second by his side. He’s been completely blind and has failed to measure up.

However, as long as she needs him, he will remain by her side.

Luigi has no idea how much time has passed when he finally notices that the intensity of his girlfriend's sobs begins to subside. Even though the guilt is still tormenting him inside, he feels relief fill him as well, like little gusts of air that grant him a brief respite. Of course he wishes Daisy would let it all out and let nothing stay inside, but that doesn't stop Luigi himself from suffering unspeakably as he holds his broken Fiore in his arms.

Still, he doesn't move. He allows Daisy to catch her breath little by little, at her own pace, and not only does he not alter his position, but he gently presses her head to his chest in a burst of affection. Her hair brushes his ear and tickles him, and Luigi, fearing that this is the last time he’ll have the chance to do so, closes his eyes to enjoy the sensation. He notices that Daisy relaxes a little the fingers with which she still holds his overalls at chest level and is pleasantly surprised when the princess finally takes her other hand away from her face and reaches out to put her arm around his back, so that she’s now hugging him too. Luigi feels his heart calm down somewhat and pulls her a little closer, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. He can't help but smile through his tears when Daisy snuggles a little more against him, seeking the warmth of his embrace, which he doesn't hesitate to bestow on her.

A few more seconds go by in complete silence, calming in each other's arms, until Daisy's voice emerges, shy and muffled.

“I'm sorry,” she mumbles, sounding almost embarrassed.

In response, Luigi kisses her hair again as he holds her tightly.

“There's nothing to be sorry about, Fiore,” he whispers, his voice laden with gentleness.

Daisy squeezes him a little tighter, rubbing her cheek against his chest, as if seeking a more comfortable position, and sighs. Her arm slowly drops from her overalls and passes under his, so that Luigi now feels both of his girlfriend's hands on his back.

“I didn't want you to see me like this,” Daisy confesses in a whisper.

Luigi understands. Even though he’s unable to hold back his emotions, he only feels comfortable expressing them in front of three people, and Daisy is one of them. She makes him feel confident and self-assured in a way he’s never felt with anyone but his brother, though in a different way, of course.

He never hesitates to open up to her when he needs to, because Daisy makes him feel secure, safe and at ease. Maybe... she can open up to him too? Maybe he can make her feel safe too?

Or maybe it's already too late?

“Do you... want to... talk about it?” he offers, unsure.

His hand wavers slightly on her hair as soon as he feels her tensing in his arms. Slowly, Daisy sits up, pulling away from him, though she doesn't quite break contact: as their arms slide down each other's backs and they face each other, she reaches for his hand.

When their fingers meet, they squeeze as if their lives were at stake.

Luigi notices the way Daisy averts her gaze as she purses her lips. She seems to be searching for the right words to start talking. Wanting to comfort her and show her that he’s there for her, ready to listen, Luigi places his other hand on his princess's cheek and gently caresses it, sliding his thumb over her tanned skin to erase the traces of crying and to brush the constellation of freckles that dot her beautiful face. Daisy closes her eyes at the touch and leans her head into his palm, taking a deep breath.

“It's just...” she murmurs, interrupting herself to sigh as she rubs her arm with her other hand. “It's really silly...”

“Daisy.” Luigi gently turns her face so he can look into her regret-laden eyes. “If it makes you cry like that, it's not silly at all.”

His girlfriend's lips pucker slightly before she composes a weak smile, and she pulls her hand away from her arm to rest it on Luigi's, who continues to caress her face with gentleness. He smiles at her too, wanting to convey so much to her in that simple gesture that he doubts he can succeed.

“Luigi, I...” Daisy begins to say and is unable to hold back another sigh. “I feel lonely.”

The smile fades from Luigi's mouth at the simplicity with which she says it. He freezes inside as he understands it all, as he understands the true meaning behind Daisy's crying, behind her words, behind her sadness.

But, before he can take it all in, she continues:

“It's just that...” She shakes her head, distressed. “It's nobody's fault, but even though I go to visit you in the Mushroom Kingdom so often, in the end I always have to come back to Sarasaland. And, yes, I have friends here too,” she hastens to clarify, “but I don't have as close a relationship with any of them as I do with you. It's not the same, you know?”

Oh, yes, Luigi knows. Throughout his life he’s met a lot of people, but with none of them he has been able to establish such a deep connection as the ones he has with his beloved brother Mario, his dear friend Peach and his adored princess Daisy. The three of them are the essential pillars of his life, those who know him best and most deeply, and every time he has to be apart from them, especially his brother or his girlfriend, he suffers to such a degree that anxiety takes over his heart. Exactly as it happened to him the day before.

Still, he lives with Mario. He sees Peach every day. They spend a lot of time together, and also with Toad, and Toadette, and Yoshi, and all the others, and when Daisy has a chance to join them, the joy that brims over him is so great that Luigi feels on top of the highest cloud.

But he had never considered that, while he despairs with every second he has to be separated from his beloved princess, in the end it is she who is the most isolated. She’s not the only one who doesn’t reside in the Mushroom Kingdom, true, but Sarasaland is the farthest away from it. The links between the two countries are complicated and convoluted, needing to use various pipes to get from one place to another, and there’s even a section of the way that must be done by train. It’s never easy or quick for Daisy to visit her friends, which is why she often stays for several days at Peach's castle.

And Luigi suddenly realizes that, perhaps, behind these long stays lies more than just the complexity of getting to the Mushroom Kingdom from Sarasaland.

Perhaps it hides Daisy's need to be accompanied, to spend as much time as possible with her friends, to feel them close and not find herself alone so often. Perhaps it hides a deep desire to be part of a whole, to nurture the connection she shares with the most important people in her life, to try to shake off the feeling of being confined and secluded in her beautiful but distant home.

Unwillingly, Luigi's mind begins to wander in search of possible solutions to soothe his girlfriend's pain and prevent her from ever feeling this way again.

“Of course, this doesn't mean that I blame anyone,” Daisy says suddenly, looking at him worriedly. “It's just a situation that's happened and that's it, and at the end of the day we all have our responsibilities. It's just...” she sighs again, her expression full of dejection. “I can't help feeling this way.”

Luigi watches her silently for a few seconds, saddened to see her so spiritless. He gently squeezes her hand and reaches for the other, grabbing her fingers gently to bring them to his mouth and place a soft kiss on them. Daisy looks up at him as she feels his lips graze her skin, and Luigi gives a weak smile in an attempt to comfort her.

“I understand, Fiore,” he says sincerely. “I understand why you feel this way in these hard circumstances, and I'm sure our friends would understand too. I...” This time it is he who sighs, and he blushes slightly as he admits: “The truth is that I had never taken a moment to think about it, and I apologize for that. I'm really sorry I didn't see it before, Daisy.”

The eyes of his princess are covered with tenderness at the frankness that oozes from each of Luigi's words, and this time she’s the one who gives him a gentle squeeze on his fingers. Only her sweet smile and the infinite affection that emanates from her blue gaze are enough to somewhat relieve the guilt that has clung to Luigi's heart.

“But I'm here now,” he adds, squeezing his hands. “And I hope I can help you find a solution so that this doesn't happen again.”

Daisy's smile becomes sad and even a little bitter.

“Luigi, I...” She remains silent for a few seconds trying to find the right words. “I thank you from the bottom of my heart, but I’m well aware that there’s no solution to this problem. I just have to... learn to live with it,” she concludes, shrugging in resignation. “Learn to live with the fact that Sarasaland, my beautiful and beloved home, is... lonely. And that's it.”

Luigi can't help but raise an eyebrow. It's not at all like Daisy to give up. He stares at her for a few moments, confusion painted on his face, but, before he can find something to say, Daisy adds:

“I admit that at times I’ve considered... leaving.”

“Leaving?” Luigi repeats, puzzled.

“Sarasaland” she explains, smiling with remorse. “Go live in the Mushroom Kingdom, or Tostarena, or even the Beanbean Kingdom. Any of those places would bring me closer to all of you. But...” she adds, sighing again, her tone full of melancholy. “I could never leave Sarasaland. It’s not only my home, but also my empire. Someday I’ll rule over its four kingdoms, and I love each of them and their different cultures with all my heart. Anyway,” she continues after a few seconds of silence, and gives him a rueful smile. “I suppose I’ll always be at a great crossroads. But honestly, being aware of it doesn't make it any easier.”

She ducks her head, exhaling for the umpteenth time. Everything in her gestures, in her expression, in her posture, screams how dejected she really feels, and Luigi just looks at her wordlessly. What can he add to what his Fiore has just confessed to him? He would never have imagined that this desire was buried deep in the heart of his princess, but he can't say he blames her. After all, isn't he incapable of going more than a whole day without seeing Mario? What must it be like for her to go for weeks at a time without being able to see all of her friends?

Luigi feels a physical pain in his chest just thinking about it.

“Besides,” Daisy goes on after a few seconds in which Luigi hasn't been able to find anything he can say to comfort her, “honey, while I appreciate your desire to help me, it's not your job to solve my problems.” She caresses his cheek with affection and Luigi can read in her eyes that she really is grateful. “It wouldn't be a healthy relationship if I expected that from you.”

“I know,” Luigi assures her, “but it is my job to be here for you, Daisy. I know...” he adds, shame flooding his insides, “I've been a terrible boyfriend not realizing sooner that you were in pain...”

“Luigi, honey,” Daisy interrupts him, gently placing her finger on his lips. “You haven't been. I didn't want you to see me like this, remember? You and I...” As she lowers her hand, another sigh escapes her mouth. “We don't spend enough time together. And when I'm with you, I want to make the most of every second. I didn't want to... waste it like this.”

“Daisy, il mio bellissimo Fiore...”

Luigi cups her face in his hands and leans towards her, yearning owning his every move. Daisy's warm forehead soon meets his, and he closes his eyes for a few seconds as he soaks in the touch, trying to hold on to it to calm his frantic thoughts. Daisy is silent and rests her hands on his arms, and Luigi clutches desperately at every point where his body and his princess' are touching, however lightly, to try to mitigate the grief that grips his soul.

“It's not a waste,” he says after a few seconds, whispering and panting slightly,. “It never is, I promise. It's... it's a lesson I've struggled to learn, but expressing how we truly feel and asking for help is never a waste, much less a weakness.”

He feels how Daisy clings to his arms a little tighter, and when he opens his eyes, he notices that she’s pursing her lips in a clear attempt not to burst into tears again.

“Luigi, I...” she mumbles in a strangled voice, “I don't want to be a burden...”

Luigi's heart shrinks in his chest.

“You're not!” he assures her, running his thumbs over her cheeks and pressing his forehead harder against hers. “Daisy, you're my girlfriend and I... I adore you.”

His confession causes Daisy's eyelids to flutter open, and Luigi pulls away from her so he can look into her eyes. He finds them shimmering with tears about to be shed, and though he, too, feels shaken and broken inside, he tries hard to smile. His knees hurt, but he pays them no heed.

“Daisy, being your boyfriend has helped me grow as a person,” he says, opening his heart completely to her. “You've made me love myself more and feel braver and more confident. You’ve been there for me when I needed you, you’ve never let me down, you’ve always supported me... Daisy,” he adds, looking at her intensely, “you’ve made my life so much better.”

And yet he’s been so blind... His beautiful flower, so lonely and isolated from everyone, like a mermaid spat out by the sea who suddenly finds herself lying on the sand, not knowing what to do or who to turn to....

It breaks his soul just to imagine it.

“I love you very much,” he continues, piercing her with his gaze, “and I’d give anything to have been able to spare you all this suffering and to find a way for you to see us more often without having to give up your home. Never, do you hear me? You could never be a burden, Daisy, because I want everything with you. The good and the bad. The joys and the sorrows. The moments of fun and the moments of crying in each other's arms. Sharing our jokes and wiping away each other’s tears. You” he emphasizes, sliding a hand down her face to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “are everything to me. Everything,” he insists, “and I will always be here for you, no matter what.”

Luigi concludes his speech by leaning down to place a kiss on Daisy's cheek, which he finds wet and salty, but he doesn't care. He himself has also burst into tears at some point while speaking, though now he can only smile. He feels as if his heart is glowing in his chest, glistening and full of all the love he feels for his princess. She just looks at him for a few moments, her face the spitting image of surprise, her tanned cheeks drenched, until, with a gasp, she throws herself at him and hides her head in his chest.

And Luigi takes her in his arms once again and offers her comfort and protection.

This time, Daisy cries in a calm manner. Her sobs are not so desperate, and her voice does not sound so heartbroken, although Luigi feels her clinging to him with even more energy, as if for nothing in the world she’d want to be separated from him. The plumber squeezes her in his arms with all his might and begins to sing in her ear the Italian lullaby with which his grandmother used to rock him and Mario as babies, and which Daisy has come to adore with all her soul. He intones the melody in a soft whisper as, again, he slides his hand up and down his princess' beautiful hair, and his heart dances as he notices that Daisy's crying, slowly but surely, almost at the same pace as the soft cadence of the lullaby, simmers down.

Neither of them moves, however. They remain in each other's arms, eyes closed, and Luigi feels Daisy's hand beginning to move down his back as well, drawing random scribbles with her fingers. He can't help but smile, a pleasant warmth filling his chest, and he then begins to fiddle with his Fiore's auburn locks, as soft as silk and as radiant as an autumn forest. When he gently clasps Daisy's body in his arms, she returns the squeeze without hesitation.

Relieved to see that she’s feeling better, more serene and relaxed, lying against him quietly and enjoying his company, Luigi sits down on the floor to give his knees a rest as he thinks again about why she broke down crying in the first place. There has to be something he can do to help her, to fix her situation even a little bit. What if...?

“You know what I'm thinking of?” he starts to say as an idea forms in his mind. “Maybe next time I come to see you I'll bring Mario and Peach with me.”

“Really?” Luigi can almost touch the excitement in Daisy's voice as, without turning away from him, she replies, “And will you and Peach bake a cake again?”

Luigi lets out a giggle, amused.

“Just for you, Fiore,” he promises, and adds: “We could organize a picnic in the gardens of your castle.”

“Well...” Daisy doesn't sound as convinced as he expected. “It's not a bad idea, but you know that this area of Sarasaland is not a very green place. It might be too hot.”

“Hm.” Luigi purses his lips thoughtfully. Daisy is right. “Then...” he says, slowly, and snaps his fingers as soon as a better idea comes to his mind, “How about a party inside your castle? It would be the perfect setting for one of our turn-based games!”

“That...” Daisy replies quietly, weighing it, and unhurriedly sits up to look him in the face. Her eyes sparkle with enthusiasm. “That would be great!” she exclaims, her voice turning into a high-pitched squeal, and she grabs him by the shoulders as she shakes him vigorously. “Besides, the castle would be full of people! Because of course,” she adds, putting one hand to her chest and raising the other with her index finger outstretched, “you'd all be more than welcome to stay over for several days.”

Luigi laughs heartily, thrilled to see that his girlfriend's effusiveness, which he missed so much, has returned stronger than ever.

“Are you sure that’s an invitation and not an obligation?” he replies jokingly.

“I can always make it a law,” Daisy resolves, putting her hands on her hips.

Her answer, as it usually happens, makes Luigi laugh. How he loves to see his beloved princess teasing again. Feeling incredibly giggly and relieved, he reaches for her hands and eagerly shakes them.

“I bet they'll all be more than delighted to stay.”

“Are you sure?” Despite her poise, Daisy hesitates, “They've never stayed here before... They might not like Sarasaland, and besides, the one who understands diplomacy is Peach...”

“And she will gladly help you,” Luigi assures her. “She, Mario, me and all the others will help you with everything you need! And by the way, I'm sure they'll love Sarasaland. It's a very beautiful land. Just like you.”

He taps her tiny nose gently and Daisy lets out a giggle and puts a hand to her mouth rather coquettishly, her cheeks a bit flushed.

“If you continue telling me that, I’ll end up believing it,” she says playfully, and nudges him gently on the shoulder. “Love has clearly clouded your judgment.”

“Not at all, Fiore,” he replies, placing his hands on her hips. “I'm just stating the facts. You should believe it, 'cause it's the truth.”

They stare at each other in rapture for a few seconds, Daisy's hands on Luigi's shoulders. She strokes his cheek with one finger as she tangles the other in his chocolate-colored curls. Luigi realizes that he’s fallen under the spell of his princess' eyes, now, at last, as full of life and wit as he remembered them. And just as beautiful and deep as ever.

“You know what I think?” Daisy then says, moving a little away from him, and Luigi blinks to snap out of her enchantment. “I’m sure Peach would definitely melt if your brother said something like that to her.”

“Of course,” Luigi nods, convinced.

He's very tempted to point out that she's melted too, and that it only makes him melt even more in love with her, but Daisy continues speaking before he has a chance to form the words in his mouth.

“Do you think that, at this party, your brother and Peach will finally... do something to confess their obvious feelings for each other?” asks the princess, curiosity shining in her face.

Luigi is unable to contain the snort that comes from deep within his lungs.

“Honestly? I doubt it very much,” he answers without hesitation. “I've lost count of the times I've tried to get those two together, and there's been no way. It's surprising how blind they are when it's so obvious to everyone that they adore each other!”

Daisy lets out a giggle.

“It really is surprising, isn't it?” she says. “That they can't see how much they want each other.”

“Indeed.” Luigi nods convincingly.

“Maybe it would take another one of your delicious cakes for Mario to finally realize it,” Daisy suggests casually, giving him a meaningful look.

Luigi knows very well what those words hide, as well as the mischievous expression on his girlfriend's face. He loves to see her like that, of course, but, although his mind starts to imagine delicious cakes with which Peach could surprise Mario and from which, of course, Daisy would unhesitatingly steal a piece, he prefers to keep his idea for the future... for the time being.

“And how could we make Peach open her eyes too?” he asks instead.

This may be a game between him and Daisy that he's dying to keep playing, but Luigi genuinely wants to help his friend and his brother, and he knows Daisy does too. The feeling of hanging out with the person you've been in love with for so long, of being able to touch and kiss and hold them in your arms freely, is absolutely wonderful, heavenly even. And he sincerely wishes that Mario and Peach could experience it in each other's arms.

“Hmm...” Daisy puts a finger to her lips, thoughtfully. “Maybe with a nice bouquet of her favorite flowers? You and I could help them with that.”

She winks at him knowingly and Luigi laughs, his heart fluttering in his chest, light as a butterfly.

“Yes... It could work,” he admits, really liking the idea.

“Heh!” Daisy gives a proud smile, showing all her teeth. “Looks like I’ll have to take action in the end so that these two end up together. Maybe my ideas aren’t that bad after all!”

She places a finger on his shoulder in an accusatory manner, which, coupled with the way her tone of voice has risen as she spoke, gets another laugh out of Luigi.

“No offense, Fiore,” he says humorously, gently taking her hand, “but your ideas are usually pretty... crazy.”

“Crazy?” Daisy repeats, holding a hand to her chest with horror painted on her face. The way she pretends to be tremendously offended is so comical that Luigi snorts. “Need I remind you that you’re talking to a princess, sir?”

Immediately, Luigi has to force himself to hold back his laughter and tries his best to compose a serious and grave expression. He places his arm on his stomach, closes his eyes and slightly bends his upper body, which is not easy considering that he’s still sitting on the floor.

“My apologies, Your Highness,” he pronounces as solemnly as he can.

This time it is Daisy who lets out a snort, much louder than the one he emitted seconds before.

“Oh, you think you're funny, huh?”

Before Luigi even has time to sit up again, he feels that Daisy lets go of his hand and takes it and the other one to his belly, where she begins tickling him with all her energy. Luigi starts laughing hysterically before his brain even manages to register what’s happening, and his thunderous laughter mixes with Daisy's, which is no less loud. Squirming from the tickling and trying, unsuccessfully, to grab his girlfriend's hands to stop her, Luigi ends up falling backwards, so that he’s lying on the ground with his Fiore on top of him.

At that moment, luckily, his princess seems to take pity on him and quits the attack. Luigi still hears her laughing as he tries to catch his breath with watery eyes, although, this time, they’re dampened for a very different reason. Opening them, he finds Daisy leaning over him, watching him with a mischievous glint in her eye and biting her lower lip.

She’s so beautiful that he feels a sudden urge to kiss her.

Smiling, still panting, Luigi raises a hand to caress her cheek. Daisy places her hands on either side of his head, and his heart almost leaps out of his chest as he realizes that she’s getting closer and closer.

When they’re very close, their noses almost touching, Luigi feels his girlfriend's fingers beginning to play with his hair once again. The naughty expression remains on her face, and a new giggle escapes her mouth before she finally breaks the distance between them.

The passion with which Daisy presses her lips against his makes Luigi break into a rapt smile before, at last, he can reciprocate her kiss. He does it with delight, as he does every time they kiss, unable to get enough of her taste, and he doesn't separate from her until he feels her laugh warmly against his mouth.

“I love you, Luigi,” Daisy says to him, staring into his eyes.

There it is again: the way she pronounces his name as if it were pure poetry. Her eyes still sparkle playfully, but her voice sounds firm and confident, with no trace of mockery. Luigi gives her the widest of his smiles and, once again, brushes a lock of hair back from her beautiful, beaming face.

“I love you too, Daisy.”

They kiss once more just as eagerly, Daisy still laughing in his mouth, Luigi catching that jovial joy he missed so much. With the same enthusiasm, Daisy sits up and pulls him close as she begins to beg him to please pick up his ukulele and play something for her, and Luigi, always willing to do anything to see her happy, hurries to find his instrument and sits back down in front of her.

He couldn't be happier to be here and now, with his Daisy, his Fiore, enjoying her company and plucking notes on his ukulele to express all the love he feels for her and how important she is in his life. As he sings, however, all that has just happened comes back to him, and Daisy's smiling face, the thrill with which she watches him as he plays for her, fills him with a fierce determination that makes him want to do everything in his power to protect her from harm.

He may not be able to change the situation his Fiore is in. He may not hold the key to making everything better for her. It may be something beyond his control.

But there is something he can do to keep his princess from ever feeling lonely again. Something he can do to be with her and keep her company even when he’s not physically by her side.

He’s going to write her a song.

[ardentinwoe]

FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT, LADS!

[jessicas-pi]

For the au ask game! Sabezra in a *flips through my au ideas list* private detectives au

so. yeah. this. this is egregiously late. But it's HERE! At long last!

....to be entirely honest I don't even know what this is. it's sabezra. they're private detectives. let's just leave it at that.

---

"Ezra, what are you doing?"

Her partner in preventing crime (and occasional partner in actual crime---they may or may not have broken into a house once; no one could prove anything) had stopped in the middle of the grim alleyway, staring at nothing in particular.

"Sabine..." he said slowly. "I think this is where I met you."

Sabine did a double-take, looking around with keen eyes. The place didn't seem familiar, but she'd been so distracted on that day, she probably wouldn't know it if she was there.

"Is it?" she asked, strolling back to him, hiking up her long skirt and stepping cautiously around the filth on the ground. "You think so?"

"Mm-hm." A nostalgic smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "You know, I've still got the handkerchief you gave me."

Sabine grinned at him. "Of course you do. You were in the throes of violent yearning. You couldn't bear to part with it."

"And my nose was still bleeding."

"That too."

"And if you recall, I did try to give it back to you---later." His smile grew proud. "Tracked you down with just your monogram and a glimpse at your face. First bit of detecting I ever did."

Sabine slipped her arm through his, hopping lightly over something that could have been a filthy rag or maybe the carcass of a large rat, as they continued on their trek towards home. The streets cleared up when they got to the main roads, but there was still the inevitable splash of mud.

Mud was everywhere in London.

"I thought you might have been a princess when I saw you on the stairs then," he blurted out, and she tilted her head up to look at him from beneath the brim of her large flowered hat. He gave her a sweetly bashful smile and a shrug. "With those big white puffs in your hair---"

"Ostrich feathers," she filled in automatically, turning her attention back to the pavement and nodding politely to a gentleman and lady who passed by them.

"---and that white dress, too." Ezra laughed to himself. "Golly, you're lucky you kept it. Your old lady wasn't gonna give you a nickel for another one."

Sabine squeezed his arm affectionately. "I could have worn any dress."

"Well, no one would have thought it was a proper wedding if we hadn't got you in white."

"No one thought it was a proper wedding when we did," she retorted. "They thought I was degrading myself."

"Then the joke is on them, because I hit the big time pretty well, didn't I?"

Sabine arched an eyebrow. "You wouldn't have amounted to anything if I hadn't got us into the illustrated papers."

Ezra paused on the pavement as they reached the steps of their lodgings, looking thoughtful.

"You're right. I wouldn't have."

"Then it seems you're lucky you've got me."

He looked right into her eyes and grinned boyishly, slipping into his most intolerably trans-Atlantic accent. "We do make a pretty bang-up team, don't we?"

"A jolly good one," she nodded in prim agreement, adopting an obnoxiously posh tone, and they both giggled, smiling at each other for a moment more before a distant clock chimed the quarter of the hour, reminding them that they were on a schedule.

"Well, I suppose we had best go on in. Our client will be here any minute now."

"I guess so."

And with that, the unstoppable team of Bridger and Bridger ascended the steps of their home at 221b Spectre Street, arm-in-arm.

[multiversal-madness]

I’m the big brother, so I’m supposed to keep it together.

~~~

I’m not really sure what this is but I’ve been thinking about Glob and how he probably lost friends in the Golb attack too but he just had to pull himself together for Magic Man’s sake (and how even when he did he couldn’t save his little brother from falling into madness)