#I got all anxious about that stupid numbing shot for no reason

[omgkawaiipinkhime]

My dentist canceled on me without telling me first 😩😩😩😩😩

[sooibian]

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Pairing: Kyungsoo x fem!Reader ft. big brother Junmyeon, arch enemy Sehun

Genre/Themes: Established Relationship AU, Fluff, Crack, Loosely inspired by the anime Horimiya

Warnings: Sexual themes, themes of sadism and masochism (nothing explicit), slight swearing.

Description: It’s Sehun’s wedding party. Kyungsoo knew these couple of hours with you were going to be anything but pleasant, however, he didn’t expect things to spiral so quickly. 

A/N: Thank you @his-mochi-cheeks​ for encouraging me to upload this. Shy tagging my closeted dandanies @vampwrrr​ and @changshapatrol​​ since this one sparked joy.

Word count: 2.7k

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To Kyungsoo, the best thing about weddings was the feast but since you sat sulkily sipping on green juice - whatever the fuck that monstrosity was made of - he couldn't muster the courage to gorge on bulgogi and galbi in front of you. Especially not since it was a "your side of the family" wedding and your big brother Junmyeon wouldn't quit looking at him as if he were a ticking time bomb.

He’d gone out with you for five years before finally asking you to marry him four years ago. As much as he tried, Kyungsoo failed to make peace with the fact that Junmyeon still hadn't warmed up to him. Kyungsoo firmly believed in cause and effect and he just couldn’t tell when and how he’d faltered to warrant such iciness from Junmyeon. Events like these made his thoughts tread deeper into the “where did I go wrong?” labyrinth with no escape in sight.

Kyungsoo’s stomach growled, the proximity to the buffet area wasn’t helping. He stupidly slapped a hand on it as if to stop the sound from reaching you but despite the loud music and raucous conversations, you noticed. So you offered him a sip of the disgusting green gloop which he politely declined.

Shrugging, you sing-songed mindlessly, "Oof the barbecue stall sure looks inviting."

He suspiciously studied the ever so slight movements in your features, every microexpression and chose the safest response of taking your hand in his, lacing your fingers together, and planting a soft kiss between your knuckles - conscious of the fact that he’d have to tolerate the hunger pangs for just a bit longer. He was dead sure you’d ask him to stop at a McDonald's on your two hour drive back home. None of these green gloop diets have lasted over twelve hours.

Resting his chin in his hand, Kyungsoo peered over his glasses and looked around the luxuriously and aesthetically decorated lawn. In front of the gazebo Oh Sehun and his bride slow-danced to a song he couldn’t recognise. Sehun's hand mischievously slipped down his bride's waist and she teasingly punched his chest in response. She giggled and swayed in his arms as Sehun looked into her eyes with all the love glimmering in his own. Thinking back to his own wedding day, Kyungsoo smiled to himself and planted yet another kiss on your hand. Features contorted by the nasty taste of the juice, to him you still looked just as radiant as you did on your wedding day. In the moment he wanted nothing more than to join the couples on the dance floor, wrap his arms around your waist, and sway to the rhythm of the romantic, soft beats.

So he turned to you and asked enthusiastically, “Lets dance?”

“Kyungsoo - ,” pinching the bridge of your nose, you only reacted with a scowl.

Your damp response instantly soured his expression. “Come on! Don’t be such a sourpuss!” He exclaimed, tugging at your arm.

Kyungsoo observed keenly as your gaze reluctantly turned to a euphoric Sehun. Through gritted teeth, you justified, “It’s my arch-nemesis’ wedding. What do you expect?”

Junmyeon was the Academic Director of Museum Studies at Seoul National University and Sehun was his favourite student, almost like a younger brother to him and as his biological sister, you somehow felt threatened by their relationship. Over the years, your insecurity had manifested in the way of an inexplicable resentment towards Sehun.

“Why did we even come, then?” Kyungsoo reasoned.

“To avoid having to listen to Junmyeon whinging and whining for an eternity,” you dead-panned.

“You mean the way I’ve been tolerating your whining ever since we received the wedding invite?” Kyungsoo grumbled.

Wagging your finger at him, you said, “That’s a low blow, Kyungsoo.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Kyungsoo pursed his lips and continued arguing with you, “Who even brings their own meal to a goddamn wedding?”

You rolled your eyes before listlessly scrolling through your phone. Kyungsoo understood exactly what you were upto. While you didn’t want anybody to fault you for skipping the wedding, you needed to make it known to everyone present that you were here merely out of courtesy.

On the other hand, Kyungsoo was quite fond of Sehun. The guy was fun and even-tempered and Kyungsoo truly admired people who were uncomplicated, people with whom he could freely speak his mind. It’s why he fell in love with you in the first place and stayed in love...despite all of your pettiness and quirks. Quirks that made Kyungsoo shake in his boots. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, pushed those thoughts out of his head and heaved a sigh of relief upon realizing that your eccentricity wouldn’t rear its ugly head at a family celebration.

He was jolted out of his reverie by Junmyeon who slammed a plate of dakgalbi in front of him. Kyungsoo immediately shoved his phone into an inside pocket of his blazer, inwardly reprimanding himself for behaving all the more suspiciously in front of your elder brother.

Squinting sceptically, Junmyeon remarked, “I didn’t see you at the buffet -”

“Ah - we’ve been meaning to -” Kyungsoo tried explaining the situation without having to put you in a spot. He thought, after an uncomfortably long pause, Junmyeon would drop the conversation, but he didn't. Kyungsoo gingerly ran his fingers over his brows to check if Junmyeon's intense glare had burned holes into his head. You on the other hand had your gaze fixed on your phone and didn’t break character even for a second - not even to help your husband out of an awkward conversation. So Kyungsoo picked up a pair of chopsticks to help himself to a piece of dakgalbi but Junmyeon slapped his hand away and snarled, “Ladies first.”

"O-of course," Kyungsoo stuttered, pushing the plate towards you.

"I don't wanna eat," you answered the two men, eyes now on a blank screen. Left with no choice, Kyungsoo slowly and sadly put his chopsticks down, his stomach making its annoyance known, while Junmyeon started to nag you for acting 'uppity as usual'.

Your show of indifference when Junmyeon animatedly whisper-scolded you, had started to make Kyungsoo anxious. The moment he tried to excuse himself to the bathroom, he felt your bare foot on his shoe and he froze into a still frame.

Kyungsoo shook his head at you and mouthed, 'Not now!' but you merely shot him a sweet smile in response.

"Are you even listening to me?" Junmyeon lambasted you.

"No and I haven't been listening for quite sometime now." Your reply sent a chill down Kyungsoo's spine. He was feeling a lot of things...all at once and with your toes boldly riding up his shin, he thought he'd burst at the seams. He made a mental note to have certain ground rules in place for situations like these - you weren’t much of a listener but this time he was sure to make himself heard.

"You won't be eating either?" Junmyeon asked Kyungsoo, shooting him yet another indignant glare. Kyungsoo smoothly moved his chair out of your reach but just as he extended his hand towards the plate, Junmyeon huffed angrily and walked away with it and Kyungsoo felt his heart sink to his stomach.

Tormenting Kyungsoo with a game of footsie for a while, you excused yourself to the ladies room. Ten minutes later, his phone chimed with a text from you.

'Can you come and get me? I think I'm lost.'

'No.' He replied. He was determined to not walk into your trap.

Kyungsoo clearly remembers the first time he was introduced to that side of your personality. Freshman year - it had been a few months since he'd asked you out. One evening, when things had gotten hot and heavy between the two of you, he had heard you say, 'Slap me, Soo.'

At first he thought he'd heard wrong so he ignored you but you said it again causing him to immediately pull away. Aghast, he asked, 'What did you say?'

'Slap me,' you blinked at him.

He intently studied your face - the most beautiful and the least punchable face he'd ever laid his eyes on. He wanted to do many things to you and all of them essentially involved making you feel loved and cherished and what you were asking of him was the exact opposite of how he felt about you. 

Eyes wide and lips pursed, you stood for a reaction but he would give you none. 

'Don't you love me?' You asked softly, batting your eyelashes at him. Little did you know, in that moment, he was too numb and too naked to make sense of the situation. 

At first he faulted his own personality. Kyungsoo was known to have picked a few fights here and there, had multiple piercings, and visible tattoos. Over the years, he got rid of it all and started dressing preppy but nothing changed. You still continued to ask of him something he was unwilling to give. So after a few ups and downs in your relationship, Kyungsoo finally reconciled with the fact that you were something of a sadist masochist only when it came to him.

His phone buzzed with your reply: 'The gardens at this hotel are ginormous. There's no staff here, I don't know how to find stupid lanky boy's stupid wedding party. I'm waiting by the restroom area please come and get me? ❤️'

Kyungsoo knew that you were directionally challenged. He'd test you at random and you could never tell left from right. Also, the lawn did sprawl over a considerable area but something just didn't feel right. Chewing on a hangnail, Kyungsoo sat thinking of a fitting reply only to receive another text from you.

A tempting one.

'If you come and get me now, we'll get out of here directly. No need to go back to the party.'

'What about your brother?' Asked Kyungsoo.

His phone blinked with a 'Pfft 🤪'

Patiently, he reiterated, 'I asked, what about your brother?'

'I promise I'll deal…'

'....?'

'Nicely 😘'

'Ok ❤️'

.

.

.

Kyungsoo gaped at you while you twirled his tie between your fingers and pleaded with him in a sultry voice, "Just once? Please?"

He was well aware that you knew for a fact he couldn't refuse you. Nevertheless, this time he firmly held his ground, "Are you crazy? Your entire family, your brother is just a couple metre's distance from here!"

"Kyungsoo please?" You caged him between a grainy concrete wall and your torso. The only respite to Kyungsoo in that situation was the fact that the area was poorly lit and there was not a soul in sight.

He cupped your face in his hands, planted a chaste kiss on your forehead and crouched down to whisper against your lips, "I'm not - I'm not sla- I'm not doing any of that here. Let's go home." After a lot of struggle, he finally managed to free himself from your Senior Superintendent General of Police grasp with a smirk on his face that said all your police training got nothing on him.

"Let's go," he held your hand and took a long stride towards the exit but you stayed firmly rooted to your place.

"Drag me out of here, then," you commanded.

You didn't budge and Kyungsoo wouldn't have caved under any other circumstance but…. he was hungry. Really hungry - making his stiff spine melt like candle wax. So he steeled himself, looked into your eyes, dropped his tone to a gruff, husky tenor, grabbed your wrist a little too tightly and threatened you, "Move your ass, __. Don't make me tell you again."

Exasperated, he rolled his eyes at the way yours twinkled at his crass behaviour.

"Gimme more," you said breathily.

The only way to get out of here was to stay in character so Kyungsoo did exactly that. He roughly pushed you against a wall (as gently as he could if it makes sense) and growled, "What makes you think you can act all buddy buddy with me, you ditz!" but before he could go any further he heard a man's voice yell, "How dare you!?"

Startled like a deer caught in headlights - in this case the flashlight of Junmyeon's latest iPhone - Kyungsoo turned around to find the brawny man leaping at him in attack mode at full throttle. Kyungsoo ducked, anticipating a heavy physical impact but it didn't come. He opened his eyes to you tackling Junmyeon to the ground and scolding him, "How dare you encroach upon our privacy and attack my husband!" while twisting his arm at every emphasis.

Very rarely was Kyungsoo grateful about the fact that you were a cop and this was one such occasion. He quickly moved to get you off of Junmyeon's back while the man cried out in pain, defending himself, "Pri-privacy? This is a bloody public place!"

Panting, you eventually let go of Junmyeon, fixed your hair and earrings and straightened your satin silk very pale pink dress (one that was almost white under the wrong lighting but despite Kyungsoo's repeated requests, you ended up in white at a wedding). But as soon as Junmyeon regained composure, he lunged to attack Kyungsoo again, screaming, "I always knew that there was something off about you!"

"Yah yah yahhhh!" You held Junmyeon back like you would do a violent criminal as Kyungsoo ducked again out of fear.

"Enough!" You shrieked at Junmyeon.

Kyungsoo's big brown eyes were fixed on your brother's terrifying demeanour as he barked, "I can't believe you're scolding me after what I just witnessed! That man, that man was hurting you!"

"That man? Better watch your tone Oppa, he's my husband!"

"You can't be that blinded by love or...whatever this is! Does he have something on you? You can tell me! You know I know all the right people to get you out of this mess -"

"Hyungnim -" Kyungsoo attempted to defuse the extremely tense situation but stopped short as you held your hand up at him.

"For heaven's sake, I'm happy, healthy, and safe in my marriage. That's all you need to know. Now go back to your baby brother's celebration and leave us alone!" Hand on your hip, you squeezed your eyes shut and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"I'm not going anywhere until you explain what just happened," Junmyeon glowered at Kyungsoo.

The younger man didn't know how to clarify this without embarrassing you and in a state of blind panic all he could think of admitting to some sort of a dissociative identity disorder. But before he could lose any more brownie points with your brother, you came to his rescue albeit not doing much to help his already strained relationship with Junmyeon.

"Kyungsoo, you don't have to tell him anything. You, Sir, talk to me. No need to drag my husband into this mess!"

Junmyeon scoffed before breaking into a hysterical laughter, "You're unbelievable, little sister. Unbelievable!"

Kyungsoo closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and started, "Hyungnim, I- "

"You have the unmitigated gall to still be standing here!" Junmyeon snapped at Kyungsoo, causing the younger man to bury his face in his hands. When the brother sister duo fell silent, Kyungsoo looked up again to find Jumyeon taking furiously long strides towards the wedding party.

"I told you this was a bad idea," Kyungsoo said quietly, rubbing the corner of his eye, as you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his chest.

"I'll fix it, I promise. I'll speak to him when he's calmed down a little," you replied, softly patting your husband's back, "Do you want to stop at a McDonald's on our way back?

Kyungsoo chuckled, squeezing you in a tight hug and kissing the top of your head, "I hate you."

"I love you, too!" You chirped, and his features lit up with his beautiful heart-shaped smile.

"So? McDonald's?" You asked coyly.

He cradled your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours. When you drew a staggered breath in response, he felt a wave of heat flushing through him. You giggled against his lips causing Kyungsoo to firmly pull your body to his. He scooped you up in his arms, kissing you with an increased fervour and rendering you breathless.

Gently pulling away, he answered in a husky, gruff voice, "Sure, dumb bitch. Took you long enough."

[wave0fg00dvibes]

Sparks - Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: Could you do a spencer Reid x SSA fem!reader where you guys are on a case and he sees the cops flirting with you and gets jealous and reveals his feelings?

A/N: WOW I’m really sorry this was out so much later than I predicted. Life is hard sometimes, y’all! My stressors are gone now so hopefully I’ll be cranking out a whole lot more of these. 

Also, I never understood how writers could just start a story they thought would be short and end up with 6K words. Now I know! Whoops.

Please leave feedback if you have any! Lots and lots and LOTS of love, as always. 

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Your favorite part of any given case was closing it.

There was no rush or relief quite like the feeling of taking someone dangerous off the streets. No sensation could match handcuffing an unsub and watching officers escort them to police cars, never to wreak havoc again. Those days were undoubtedly the best part of being a profiler at the BAU. Those beautiful days took away the pain and anguish you so often faced as an agent, even if only momentarily.

Today was one of those days.

The resolution of this case provided the small town a chance to take a deep breath of relief. The killer was locked away, there were minimal casualties, and several hostages had been rescued and reunited with their families. All in all, it was a success.

Normally the team would fly back to Virginia right away, but a large, dangerous, looming electrical storm prevented a safe flight. Hotch made the executive decision to stay another night at the motel, and no one complained. After all, this case had been exhausting and draining for all of you.

It wasn’t until Morgan suggested a trip to the bar next door that the night got interesting.

Classic.

So, there you and Emily were, taking a trek across the street in the pouring rain, clutching your shared umbrella as if your lives depended on it.

“You know; I think I might be getting too old for this.” Emily nearly yelled over the roar of the weather. You laughed.

“Never! Who would be my off-duty partner in crime if not you?”

She shook her head and smiled at you. Strands of lightning lit up the sky and reflected in the many puddles at your feet. As beautiful as it was, you were not particularly comfortable holding a large piece of metal in a barren landscape during an electrical storm. As soon as the next inevitable clap of thunder shook the earth, both of you silently agreed to walk even faster to get to the bar and out of the rain.

“All I’m saying is you’d better start looking for my replacement.” Emily fired back, clutching the umbrella even harder as the wind blew the raindrops straight into your faces.

“As if I could ever replace the best wing woman I’ve ever had.” You shouted back to her. At that, Emily laughed out loud.

“Wing woman? Yeah, right.”

You didn’t have time to question her cheeky comment before the two of you finally reached the door to the bar. Emily immediately sighed in relief and you chuckled, stepping inside to relish in the warmth and shelter from the aggressive storm. Both of you stood in the doorway and took off your rain jackets, thankful to be dry and safe again.

“So, you’re telling me that if I found you someone at this bar…” Emily started to tease you, elbowing your ribs in jest. However, her eyes held an underlying mystery that frightened you. It was as if she was looking directly into your heart, reading your every move, discovering your deepest secrets.

Emily was one of your closest friends, but there was one secret in your heart that you could barely admit to yourself, much less another person. That was not something you wanted to dive into at the moment. It had been such a good day. There was no need to tarnish it with rambling thoughts and uncomfortable feelings.

Did that secret involve romantic feelings for a team member? Maybe.

She couldn’t know. There was no possible way she could know.

“I mean… I don’t know.” You bashfully tripped over your words, knowing she was kidding, but not doubting her willingness to embarrass you.

“Really? A gorgeous, smart, single woman like you, not wanting to find any company?” You blushed at the compliments, but shook your head in denial.

“Nice try, but I am perfectly happy being all alone.” You playfully nudged her shoulder. She let out a big laugh, hooking your arm in hers and starting to head toward the rest of the team at the back of the bar.

“Oh, come on. Don’t feed me that. We all know about you and Reid.” She subtly whispered in your ear.

And there it was.

She knew. Of course she knew. You felt your face begin to drain its color.

“We…” you attempted to launch into your heavily used “just friends” speech, but Emily put a finger up to your lips.

“Don’t even try that excuse with me. Just, don’t. Your self-appointed wing woman knows better.” She smirked and gave you a wink before releasing your arm and taking a seat between Morgan and JJ.

Rolling your eyes at her, you sat down in the only remaining seat, conveniently next to none other than Dr. Spencer Reid. You glared at Emily and she wiggled her eyebrows at you, fully aware of what she had done.

Oh boy. This was going to be a long night.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be around him. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Plopping down next to Spencer was the most comforting thing you had done all day. Though he was deep in conversation with Morgan, he grabbed one of the drinks in front of him and handed it to you without looking. You smiled, taking the glass as you watched his face contort while arguing with his friend. This was undoubtedly a conversation you did not want to interrupt.

You took a sip from the glass, and your heart skipped a beat. He had ordered you your favorite drink without even asking if you were in the mood.

Then again, he’s a professional profiler and one of your closest friends. Of course he knew you needed it.

That’s the whole problem, though. Why fix something that isn’t broken? Why go out on a limb for something that could destroy an already perfect relationship, both personally and professionally? The costs outweighed the benefits in every single sense. It just wasn’t worth it.

But all the rationality in the world couldn’t stop your heart from longing for the fairy tale.

“Hey!” Spencer’s soft, warm voice cut through all of the noise and broke you right out of your thoughts. He had turned to face you, cheeks slightly tinted red, probably from the heat of the bar and the alcohol. His ever-shining smile lit up his face. You couldn’t help but return it.

As always, you were amazed at how one shared moment with him could make every insecurity and anxious thought feel so small.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked, the furrow in his brow reflecting his genuine concern.

“Oh, yeah! Just a couple of bumps and bruises. Nothing too serious.” You assured him.

Earlier that day you had been shot by the unsub. Thankfully, all of the bullets hit your vest and not your unprotected body. It wasn’t the first time you had been in a shooting match with a perpetrator, but for some reason this one had really rattled you.

He nodded, taking another sip of his drink before proceeding.

“I looked at your vest. If that last bullet had been just 2 centimeters to the left, it could’ve dissected your subclavian artery, and that could’ve been deadly. Arterial rupture can cause life-threatening hemorrhages, pseudoaneurysm formation, and compression of brachial plexus.” His eyes lit up with excitement as he continued to talk about your circulatory luck of the day, blissfully unaware of how intensely it had scared you.

That was one of your very favorite things about him. He took any moment, any situation, any scare, and turned it into a statistic. He put all your irrational fears into rational numbers and ideologies. No matter what happened to you, or anyone on your team, he was right there to make sure you all knew you weren’t alone, even if that meant spouting off facts about arterial dissection in a bar at midnight.

This man was something else.

“Hey, pretty boy!” This time the voice breaking you out of your thoughts was Morgan’s. Spencer’s many statistics halted abruptly as he turned to face the summoning voice.

“What ever happened to that lovely lady you were going to ask out for coffee last week?”

His body immediately tensed next to you. Your stupid, irrational, unforgiving heart dropped into your stomach.

“Um, I mean… I didn’t end up asking her.” His answer was surprisingly short. You had never seen Spencer so flustered and lost for words. You looked up at Emily and saw the delicate look of annoyance in her eyes.

“It’s really hard to date in this line of work…” Emily attempted to defend his decision, JJ nodding and offering noises of agreeance while taking sips of her drink, but Morgan cut them off to press him further.

“Oh come on Reid, you haven’t shut up about her for months!”

“Yes, thank you Emily.” Spencer replied, letting some of the tension go. “I’m not sure I want to take any of my focus away from this job right now.”

“Oh whatever…” Morgan started, but before he could go any further you saw Emily subtly kick him under the table.

She looked up at you, eyes faintly conveying her apologies and intent to knock some sense into the oblivious man. He gave her a confused look, but immediately dropped the subject after meeting her fiery gaze.

“Anyway… are you seeing anyone?” This time Morgan’s question was directed at you.

Nope. Not happening. Where was the alcohol?

“On that note, I’m going to go get a drink. Anyone want anything?” You asked, grabbing your glass and standing up quickly.

Before they could answer, you were on your way to the bar. The first drink was strong, but not strong enough to numb the stupid, unreasonable pain and excruciating awkwardness of what had just happened.

“I’ll have another of these, please.” You asked the bartender, sitting at one of the chairs to help calm your shaking knees.

Breathe.

There was literally no reason for you to be upset. He was allowed to see people. Both of you were single, for crying out loud! There was nothing you were willing to do to make the fairy tale in your head a reality, so why was this weighing on you so heavily?

Breathe. For the love of everything, breathe.

He deserved every happiness in the world, and more. There was no reason for you to be so self-centered and deny him that. Who’s to say he even thought of you as anything more than a colleague anyway?

“Agent?” You slightly jumped and turned to face the familiar voice, recognizing the man sitting next to you instantly.

“Sergeant Jones. Hi.” You presented the best smile you could muster in the moment at the sight of one of the local deputies.

“Please, call me Michael. It’s so nice to see you outside of the unfortunate situations our jobs bring.” His smile was warm, and the hand he reached out to shake was soft.

“It’s nice to see you too, Michael.” You smiled, angling yourself to face him more directly.

Breathe. Distractions are good, especially when they are this handsome. Breathe.

His short blonde hair was combed perfectly, and his blue flannel shirt subtly brought out his eyes. No wedding ring. You could feel your heart ever so slowly begin to rise at the prospect of feeling valued, wanted, especially by a handsome stranger. 

Did it take your mind off Spencer? No. 

Could anything at this point? Who knows.

“Are you okay?” He asked, the true concern evident in his pretty blue eyes.

No, Michael. You seem wonderful but this is the worst timing.

“Yeah! Yeah, it’s just been a long day.” You lied straight through your teeth like a pro. However, you were captivated by his seemingly genuine integrity.

“You can say that again.” He chuckled. “This town hasn’t seen action like this in the last century, at least.”

Spencer could probably pinpoint the exact date of the last time this tiny town had a historic day like this…

NOPE. Breathe.

“How often does your team handle cases like these?” Michael’s deep voice snapped you out of your racing thoughts.

Okay, this was good. You were good at talking about work. It was basically your whole life.

“Well, we mostly handle serial killer cases. Sometimes abductions, things of that nature.”

Michael was a good listener, and the way his body angled toward yours indicated he actually enjoyed listening to you talk about your gruesome job.

“Cases involving children are the hardest for me, but it’s different for everyone.” You added.

“Yeah, I understand. I know our jobs are of different caliber, but I struggle with those too.”

You were enamored with Michael’s honesty and emotional depth in your short conversation. Compassionate, good at listening, and handsome? The other shoe was sure to drop soon…

The bartender set your drink down in front of you, but before you could pay her Michael handed her some cash.

“Oh no…” You started to argue.

“Please, I insist. It’s been a hard day for all of us.” Michael softly smiled at you. You smiled back, immediately taking a big gulp of the strong drink. Bring on the numbness.

“So, do you have any kids?” His surprising question caused you to choke and begin coughing profusely. He immediately looked alarmed, placing a hand on your arm to steady you.

“I’m so sorry, I just meant because those cases affect you so much… I didn’t mean…”

“No! No, it's okay!” You choked out between coughs. Could this night get any more awkward? You took a deep breath and drink of water before continuing, noticing his strong, soft hand was still on your arm.

“No, I don’t have any kids yet. It’s hard to find time to date in this line of work.”

“Cheers to that.” He smiled, lifting his drink to tap yours.

Feeling the alcohol start to kick in, you closed your eyes and smiled. Finally.

“Hey, I never got a chance to thank you for what you did today.” You opened your eyes to meet his, slightly confused as to what he meant, but he continued. “You jumped in front of one of my men and took those bullets.”

Ah, transference. He’s only interested because he thinks you’re a hero.

“Oh, that’s just part of the job.” You brushed it off.

“No. That was true bravery and sacrifice.” Michael turned completely toward you. “I don’t know many people who would’ve done that. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

...or maybe he’s just incredibly kind?

“Of course.” You laid your free hand on top of his. Thankful for the recognition, but far more thankful that no one had been harmed that day.

“Man if you didn’t have to leave, I would absolutely be asking you on a date right now.” Michael’s undying honesty once again caught you by surprise.

“You’re just saying that because I took a successful risk today.”

“No, I’m saying it because in the last five minutes I’ve realized that you’re smart, along with brave and clearly beautiful.”

All you could do was smile and squeeze Michael’s hand, for though the flattery was lovely, both of you knew full well that was all it could be.

Out of nowhere, you felt the air tense. Michael looked past you in confusion, and all at once you knew who was there. You could feel Spencer’s presence before he spoke a single word. Somehow you could tell he had been there for a short while, and could feel the inevitable speech coming.

“Actually that’s called transference, which happens when material from our unconscious mind is propelled into our conscious mind as we try to deal with the usually painful psychological trauma that we are experiencing. The brain unconsciously re-surfaces and re-enacts conflict-ridden experiences as if the past were the present and one setting were another. We transfer thoughts, feelings, and attitudes, especially about people who resemble others. We assign them roles once played by others. We take on old roles ourselves. All unconsciously.”

Both you and Michael were stunned into silence, staring at Spencer as if he were from another planet.

What the hell was he doing?

You sighed, giving up any hope for a single shred of happiness to come from this night.

“Michael, you remember Dr. Reid.”

“Of course, good to see you again.” Michael nodded toward Spencer, which he awkwardly returned.

“Sorry to interrupt. I came over to see if you were alright after that coughing spell and couldn’t help but overhear…”

“It’s fine, Spencer.” You coolly cut him off, begging him with your eyes to go back to the table and let you make a connection, for once.

He saw the look, understood, and promptly ignored it.

“We should probably get back to the motel. The others left when I got up to check on you.”

“I’m a big girl, Spencer. I’ll be okay.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him.

“I can walk her back.” Michael looked up at Spencer, attempting to analyze him, to no avail.

“That won’t be necessary.” Spencer looked him dead in the eye, challenging him. A sudden look of realization dawned on Michael’s face. He immediately stood up, grabbing his jacket.

“Wow, I’m really sorry for the misunderstanding. I assumed you were single.”

God fucking dammit, Spencer.

“Oh I am! I am. It’s not like that. Spencer is just a good friend.”

Spencer stood there, unmoving, arms crossed, stoic as he could be. Michael gave up the silent fight, putting on his jacket and turning to leave.

“Listen, it was really nice to see you again, agent. Thank you again, truly, for all you did for my team today. Best wishes.” He shook your hand, far more awkward this time, and nodded to Spencer before bolting toward the door.

The prior sadness couldn’t hold a flame to the anger bubbling inside you at that moment. You whipped around to face the ever stoic Spencer, who didn’t seem to care about the fact that you were pissed as all hell about what he had just done. Before he could say another word, you took your coat from his outstretched arm and stormed toward the door, not caring if he followed or not.

Thankfully, the rain had stopped, but the beautiful lightning illuminated the sky as you furiously stomped back across the street to the motel. Normally you would attempt to walk softly in your heeled boots so as to not draw attention, but you couldn’t care less in this moment. You wanted Spencer to know just how royally pissed off you were, and you could tell he was right behind you.

Who did he think he was? Swooping in at the last second to sever the one human connection you’d made all night? Breaking the newfound bond you started with someone to distract from what he had caused?

The anger coursing through your veins seemed to dissolve the alcohol all on its own. You were no longer drunk, you were furious.

Breathe. Assault of a federal agent will put your ass in jail. Breathe.

It wasn’t until the two of you were alone in the elevator that you’d finally calmed down enough to form a sentence.

“What the fuck, Spencer?”

He didn’t answer. You took a deep breath, trying to expel the burning desire to scream. It didn’t work.

Of course, the one time you truly needed his explanation, he refused to offer it.

When the elevator reached your floor, he silently followed you to your room. You fished in your pocket for the key, but before you could swipe it Spencer grabbed your wrist, turning you toward him.

“I’m sorry.” He flatly stated.

Sure. Nice try.

“For what?” You challenged, not breaking his eye contact.

“For not getting you out of that situation sooner.”

You laughed right in his face. Pitiful, loud, uncontrollable laughter.

“Are you kidding me? Seriously? Oh my God.” You laughed so hard you thought you were going to throw up, clutching your stomach and leaning forward. His arms attempted to steady you but you eagerly batted them away.

“What is so funny about that?” You could tell he was getting frustrated.

Were you really about to start this?

You were really about to start this.

“Guess what? Men are allowed to flirt with me, Spencer. Believe it or not some people actually find me desirable.” He was surprised, but not as much as you thought he might be.

He didn’t deny that this was what had struck the nerve and prompted him to get you out of the bar.

“Those cops are bad news.” He broke eye contact, further proving your point.

“Michael was kind to me.”

“He was putting up a front.”

“Why is it so difficult for you to believe someone could actually be attracted to me?”

“He doesn’t even know you!”

“And if he did he wouldn’t want me?”

Spencer opened his mouth to fight back, but immediately closed it, eyes darting between the patterns on the carpet. Your heart cracked.

“I didn’t realize you thought so little of me, Spencer.”

“That’s not what I…” He cut himself off with a deep sigh, putting his hands behind his head and looking up to the ceiling.

“Then what the hell is it, because I don’t have time for this.” You spat, trying to use your keycard once more. Spencer grabbed your wrist again, holding tightly even as you tried to squirm away.

“What is your problem?” You nearly yelled in his face. “I don’t understand why it is SUCH a stretch in your mind that a man could want to spend time with me. Why can’t you fucking accept that?”

This time, as you tried to push him off of you, he grabbed your other arm and pinned both behind your back, pulling you close to him so you couldn’t escape.

“Because no matter who it is, I can guarantee they don’t want you as badly as I do.”

Your entire, sober brain shut down. All at once, the world was spinning, and not from alcohol.

You pushed him away, and this time he let you go, standing at a respectful distance, allowing you to soak in his confession. The wheels in your head weren’t turning fast enough for this.

“But… that girl Morgan was talking about…”

“Yeah. That’s you.”

Wait… what?

You let your hands fall to your knees as you leaned forward. It was too late in the night for this, too wrong a moment for such a bold confession.

So… he wanted to ask you out… but didn’t? When did that happen? When have you ever given him an indication you weren’t interested? But had you ever given him an indication you were interested?

The madness in your swirling thoughts was interrupted by Spencer taking a step toward you. Oh no. Oh dear God no.

Your brain screamed at you to move, take a step, run away, anything. But your heart held its own. In your deepest desires, you had been waiting for this moment since the day you met him.

Now it was your turn to observe the patterns on the carpet. Each and every flower seemed far more interesting now that you were confused out of your mind and your heart was beating at twice its normal rate.

All of the sudden, the toes of his converse lined up with your own, and you felt his hand lift your chin to look him in the eyes. In the low light of the hallway, they almost looked golden.

He moved painfully slowly, as if you would bolt at any moment. Which, to be fair, if your rational brain had anything to say about this moment, you’d be halfway down the street by now.

But, it didn’t. His hands slowly made their way to your waist, delicately touching to make sure you were okay before settling firmly. Your own hands worked their way up his arms and around his neck, feeling every tense, trembling move he made the whole way.

It was as if the entire world was paused, as if everything was in slow motion except for you and him. For the first time since you joined the bureau, you allowed your guard to drop for a moment.

And in that brief moment, his lips met yours.

Alarm bells sounded in your mind as soon as it happened, and you pulled your head away, ending the kiss almost as quickly as it began. You frantically looked into his eyes, still clutching onto him, allowing yourself to let it sink in.

Spencer Reid had just kissed you. Okay, sure.

The part that really scared you was how much you enjoyed it.

Breathe, dear God, fucking breathe.

He held your gaze with a surprising intensity, letting his eyes tell you all the truths he was afraid to say out loud.

You were afraid too. Terrified.

Yet, somehow, standing in that musty motel hallway holding onto your best friend for dear life after just locking lips for the first time felt like the most natural, perfect thing in the world.

Were you really about to continue this?

You bet your ass you were about to continue this.

You grabbed his face and pulled his head back down to yours to kiss him again. Your lips met just as softly, but this time settled into an intimate rhythm. One of your hands made its way into his hair, lightly pulling, causing him to let out a deep moan.

Oh, no. No, no, no. You really liked that.

His hands splayed out over your back, attempting to bring you even closer as your bodies moved together.

So this was what you had been running from all this time, the scariest possible scenario you’d tried so hard to bury.

That fear seemed minuscule compared to the overwhelming feeling of goodness that came from being this close to him, feeling his soft hair in your hands and his beating heart against your chest.

The edge of the abyss grew closer with every soft movement and crash of your lips. The point of no return loomed, begging you to hold him closer, bring him into your room, and cross all of the lines your paranoid mind had set long ago. After all, rules were made to be broken and lines were meant to be crossed, right? By the way he hungrily pressed your body against the door to your room, you knew he was thinking the exact same thing.

But, in true agent fashion, your rational brain caught up to you before you could make the dream a reality.

You pulled away harshly, and he immediately removed his hands and stepped back. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it might burst right out of your chest.

He looked so beautiful like this, hair all disheveled, lips big, full, and thoroughly kissed. His eyes held the horror you had grown to know so well, the fear of ruining one of the very best things in your lives. You were positive your own eyes reflected the very same idea.

“Spencer…”

“I know.” He cut you off, closing his eyes.

“We can’t ruin this. We can’t go down that road.”

“I know.”

The charged silence that followed was most unwelcome. 

“Why would you say that. Why would you act on that?” Your accusation against his confession was less of an attack and more of a whimper, trying so hard to bury the longing feelings again.

He shrugged, analyzing the carpet once more. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Spencer.” You let his name roll off your tongue softly, gently, longing to somehow take it all back, to push what you had done into some secret place, never to be seen or spoken of again.

He looked up at you, the same emotions swirling through his eyes. He understood.

“I didn’t want to live any longer not knowing, I guess.” He softly admitted.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. There was no way to take it back, no way to fix this, no rational comfort you could offer.

There was nothing more either of you could say.

So, with that, he turned on his heel and walked back to his own room, never looking back.

You stood there in the hallway for a long while, completely stunned. It wasn’t until the subtle bell of the elevator broke your trance that you finally swiped your keycard and retreated to the solace of your room.

Somehow, in the midst of the war going on in your head, you managed to pack all of your things. You wouldn’t remember going through with your night routine or climbing into the soft motel bed, but somehow your unconscious mind led you there.

The tears of frustration didn’t start until about 20 minutes into blankly staring at the ceiling. They rolled down your cheeks and pooled in your hair, but you barely noticed. Every so often, you lifted your hand to your lips, unbelievingly, wishing for some reminder of what it felt like to be connected with him. 

How had your pride been so dominating that it thrust you into the very situation you worked tirelessly to avoid? What prompted him to act so impulsively? Why did you just stand there and let him leave?

Most importantly, how in the world were you going to resolve this?

To say it was going to be a sleepless night would be the understatement of the century.

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

As you got on the plane the next morning, Emily was the first one to meet your exhausted gaze. She got up from her seat and walked over to you, enveloping you in her arms.

“I heard the yelling from my room. I’m sorry.” She whispered. You sighed, hugging her back as hard as you could.

So, they all knew. Of fucking course they all knew. Even Hotch and Rossi shot you a look of understanding sympathy as you moved to take the seat next to Emily. JJ patted your knee knowingly, and you gave her hand a squeeze before laying your head on Emily’s shoulder. Maybe now, surrounded by your girls, you would finally be able to get some sleep.

Thankfully, your hope became a reality. The next time you opened your eyes, everyone around you had drifted off as well. You gingerly lifted your head, making sure not to disturb Emily’s fragile sleep. 

The plane was peacefully silent, and as you scanned the cabin, your heart ached with gratitude for your team, your family. Getting shot was less than ideal, but the love and appreciation it prompted was most welcome. 

You felt Spencer’s eyes on you before you even noticed he was awake.

Turning your head toward the couch he was sprawled out on, your eyes locked with his. He made no move to look away, and neither did you. 

Fixing this was a necessity, and you both knew it. There was no space for awkwardness or personal feelings getting in the way of this line of work. 

As always, even despite the awkwardness and confusion of the past 24 hours, plopping down next to Spencer was still the most comforting feeling. Looking into his equally-tired eyes provided some comfort. At least you knew you weren’t the only one that lost sleep over the incident. 

His eyes were always a home to you, no matter what state your friendship was in. This was uncharted territory for both of you. Simply sitting next to each other, enjoying the presence and absorbing the moment, seemed to kickstart the healing that was sure to follow. 

Before you knew it, your arms were reaching out for him, and his enveloped you. Your head immediately fell to his shoulder, letting out a deep breath you didn’t remember taking. 

“I’m sorry.” You offered, chuckling at the whole situation. He joined in your slight laughter, squeezing you a little bit tighter as you felt the glorious sound reverberating in his chest.

“I’m sorry too.” He whispered. 

You pulled away to look at him, offering a small smile that he quickly returned. It already felt as if 1,000 pounds had been lifted from the air around you.

“It’s just, I would never forgive myself if I ruined this friendship, you know?” You admitted, ashamedly.

“I do. I promise, I do.” He insisted. You knew it was the truth.

The plane jolted from sudden turbulence, and you quickly scanned the cabin to make sure no one had woken up. When you were certain the whole team was still in a deep sleep, you turned back to Spencer, finally voicing the question that had been hovering for hours.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” 

“Probably for the same reason you didn’t tell me.” He replied, smirking at you.

Fair enough. You relaxed at the reemergence of his straightforward attitude, refreshed to know that his brutal honesty was unceasing. 

The silence that followed held far more meaning than more words could. 

There was no easy fix here, even though both of your feelings were now out in the open. Romantic attachment was a recipe for disaster for anyone at the BAU, much less two of its own agents. You both knew that all too well.

So… what now? Logically, you were at a dead end. 

Then, in true Spencer Reid fashion, he genuinely surprised you.

“Would you like to get coffee with me sometime?” He unceremoniously blurted. You looked up at him in surprise. Suddenly, it felt as if every logical answer to that question had left your brain.

“I…” 

“Don’t think too hard, just reply.” He quickly added, desperate for an answer, longing for a means to an end of whatever this night had started.

“Spencer Reid… are you asking me on a date?” 

“Yes, I am.” His golden brown eyes met yours. No hesitation, no jokes.

It’s amazing how the moments you spend so long running from can sneak up on you in a single instant. You knew that every fear you had about taking this path with him was rational. Attachment was a death sentence for one or both of you, in its own way. 

Was your heart really worth that risk? Running away from your feelings for so long was exhausting. How much longer would you really want to push it all away?

Well… you were both inevitably going to die anyway. Might as well do it with some love in your heart. 

“I’m not asking for forever, I swear. Just for a couple hours of your time. I just think…” He started, but you held up a hand, hoping he would ease up for long enough to let you answer.

Were you really about to take this leap?

“I would love to.”

Damn right you were.

His surprised smile was blinding, and you couldn’t help but match it. 

This time, you barely noticed the turbulence when the cabin fell silent. Both of you sunk back into your seats, relief flooding the air. The million thoughts constantly circling in your head all stopped for a single moment, allowing you to finally, blissfully, breathe.

“You know, for two profilers, we really should have caught this sooner.” Your tired eyes began to fall closed again, finally feeling the full weight of the night lift from your shoulders.

“Yes, but as two emotional repressors, I think we did a pretty great job.” Spencer’s sweet, beautiful voice brought you back, and you couldn’t help but let out a joyful laugh at his sassy retort.

Touché, Reid.

You silently scooted closer to him on the couch, laying your head on his shoulder and letting sleep overtake you once more. 

“I’m not asking for forever.”

His words, meant for comfort and persuasion in the moment, replayed in your mind as his arms encircled you.

“I’m not asking for forever.”

No, love. Not just yet.

[carewyncromwell]

*exhales heavily* Cinderella AU time again...and yes, I am in just as much pain as you are. 

Carewyn’s dress, which she first wore at the Winter Festival several sections back, is once again based on this design. The scene Orion is pictured in above was inspired by a scene from one of my absolute favorite Disney shorts, The Prince and the Pauper. (Yes, turns out a Mickey Mouse cartoon can end up bringing out some real emotions!) The line “have courage and be kind” is also a reference to Disney’s 2015 live action remake of Cinderella. 

Trigger warning for grief, depression, thoughts of suicide, and minor character death. 

Previous part is here -- whole tag is here -- so let’s begin.

x~x~x~x

Carewyn rode without stopping all the way back to the Cromwell estate. Her mind was so dark and her spirit panged with such emptiness and pain that she could hardly have explained why. Perhaps she’d thought to confront Charles. Perhaps she’d thought to demand that he explain why Talbott was wrong -- where he’d really sent Jacob, if not off to War. Perhaps she’d thought to demand the truth. But for her to do that, she’d have to accept that what Talbott said was really true. And if she did that...

Overhead the clouds gathered and grew darker still in the night, rumbling with thunder. By the time Carewyn had reached the capital again, it had started to pelt sleet and rain. 

When Carewyn had arrived at the Cromwell estate, she leapt off her horse in such haste that her foot got caught in the saddle. Loosing her balance and grip, Carewyn fell right off and right into the mud several feet away from the manor’s front stoop. Her horse, startled by the sound of his rider’s cry, gave a whinny, backing up with its hooves padding the muddy earth. 

Carewyn shakily eased herself up out of the mud. One of her slightly-too-big shoes had come off when she fell. She tried to gather enough awareness of her surroundings to retrieve it...but in that moment, she found herself unable to move. The cold of the freezing rain was enough to make anyone feel numb, but combined with the paralyzing despair that clung to her blood like ice, she was just too weak to stand. 

Jacob...Jacob...

Carewyn tried to get up, but her legs quaked under her and she slumped forward. 

I have to get up, she tried to tell herself. I have to be strong. I can’t fall apart...when...

“Jacob needs me. I have to be strong for Jacob.” That was always the thing that kept her from breaking. That was always the thing that helped her stand back up, every time she fell. That was always the thing that convinced her that she could still endure somehow. 

I need to make up for my mistake. I need to bring Jacob home. It’s okay if I can never be free -- it’s okay if I can never be happy again. If I’m a slave to Grandfather the rest of my life, that’s fine, as long as Jacob is...

Carewyn’s hands vaguely clutched at the sleeves of her dress, almost trying to simulate the way Jacob had hugged her nine years ago. 

The memory of her older brother’s arms squeezing her tight always used to bring Carewyn some warmth in the past, even through the pain of how much she missed him. But now...now even that memory could not shake the shuddering cold off of her shoulders. 

A loud crash of lightning overhead spooked Carewyn’s horse. With a scared whinny, it galloped away toward the stable, leaving her alone. Carewyn, however, barely noticed. She was too lost in her own head. 

“My Wyn -- my sweet Wyn -- ”

Jacob’s choked, relieved voice echoed in her ear...only to be replaced with Chester’s recollection of Jacob’s final words.

“‘Wyn. I’ve failed you, Wyn.’”

Carewyn’s heart felt like it was being ripped open. A part of her was gone -- torn out with force. 

No, Jacob. I failed you. It was me. It’s all because of me. 

She was the foolish one, to have ever trusted Charles in anything. She was the ignorant one, to never have questioned his explanation or why she’d never seen a single shred of a letter from Jacob, all those years. She was the stupid one, to not have immediately run after Jacob, rather than stay under Charles’s thumb all that time. She was the pathetic one who’d sold her and Jacob’s souls away...all for nothing.

Jacob did everything he could to try to get away. He must have known he was going to die, but he did everything he could to try to get back to her...while she...she immediately got to work being her family’s servant. She cowardly slunk into the kitchen and obeyed Charles’s will, in the exact moments when Jacob was trying everything he could to reach her. And then, when the spell was broken...he died alone. He died alone, and in chains, bruised and crying...knowing that he’d never see his sister again.

Carewyn had stayed in line hoping to keep Jacob from suffering...but her inaction -- her stupidity -- had made him suffer all the way up until his last breath.

Tears streamed down Carewyn’s face. She felt like claws were tearing at her heart, ripping her apart from the inside. She couldn’t catch her breath. She gritted her teeth, trying to keep herself from sobbing openly, and huddled in on herself. Her soaking hair was coming out of its bun and falling all around her face, but she didn’t even feel it. All she felt was cold and pain and grief and heavy, unnatural gravity. 

You deserve this.

The thought was a whisper in her mind, but it was a knife in her brain and her heart at the same time. 

Jacob died alone. Jacob suffered and died...all because you didn’t...

She shut her eyes, her shoulders quaking. 

You deserve to be alone. You deserve to die alone. 

The voice that had always belonged to that “beast” inside of herself had never been stronger than it was in that moment. Its voice rumbled like the thunder that echoed overhead, and yet it was silent poison in her ear, trickling through to her brain and into her icy blood. 

She screamed. It was all she could do. She screamed in anguish, clutching her own shoulders as her tears muddled with the raindrops sliding down her cheeks. 

Die alone. Die alone. 

Time blurred for Carewyn as she sat in the rain alone. Looking back, she could hardly have said whether it was ten minutes or an entire hour later before anyone approached her. 

“Carewyn!”

Carewyn barely heard the cry of her name. It was as if it’d come from a mile away, in a voice that was vaguely familiar in how misty it was, but echoing with anxiety.

Someone collapsed to their knees in front of her, grabbing hold of her arms and hoisting her upper half back up. Carewyn stiffened like a cat -- when her eyes shot open, they could just barely make out a man with wet hair messily falling into his black eyes. 

“Carewyn,” breathed Orion. 

Carewyn tried to speak, but she couldn’t inhale without choking back a sob. She clenched her teeth harder. 

Orion had been waiting outside the gates of the Royaumanian camp for her, she recalled. He must’ve seen her ride off and immediately followed after her. 

Orion’s face was so pale -- so anxious. It made Carewyn almost ill to see it. Tearing her eyes away, she brought a hand up to his chest and pushed him back away from her. 

“Go away,” she whispered. 

The words were an arrow in Orion’s heart. 

“Carewyn...”

He reestablished his grip on her shoulders. but Carewyn once again pushed at his chest. 

“Leave me!” she rasped. 

Orion, however, only squeezed her more tightly, his eyes flooding with pain and caring. 

“Don’t look at me like that!” she lashed out despite herself, as more tears slid off her lashes. “I told you to leave me! Leave me be...”

Orion amazingly didn’t respond to Carewyn’s temper. Instead he merely steadied his hold on her shoulders, even though his hands were trembling. 

“Carewyn,” he whispered, “your brother...”

“DON’T TALK ABOUT JACOB!”

Carewyn brought both of her hands up and finally shoved Orion off of her. She tried to get up, to put more distance between them, but her legs collapsed out from under her and she fell back into the mud. 

“Carewyn...” said Orion, reaching out to try to help her again, but Carewyn wrenched herself out of his reach. 

“I told you to leave! I don’t want your help -- I don’t want your kindness, or your caring, or your sadness -- ”

"You don’t want them,” said Orion, his voice a bit faster than normal due to the anxiety throbbing through his head and heart, “but I feel them, all the same. Please...won’t you accept them? Accept how sorry I am, that I couldn’t reunite you with him -- that I couldn’t -- ”

“No.”

Carewyn shut her eyes tight, clutching her own shoulders in a vain attempt to make them stop shaking. 

The denial made Orion flinch. “...Why?”

“Because I don’t deserve them!” she shot back, her voice choked with pain. “I don’t deserve your concern -- I don’t deserve your worry -- I didn’t deserve it before, and I don’t deserve it now, so stop trying to give jewels to swine! I will not appreciate them!”

Orion’s black eyes welled up with anguish. 

“My lady -- ” he whispered. 

“NO.”

The title made Carewyn’s eyes flood with fresh tears, her eyebrows knitting tightly over her eyes.

“I’m not your lady -- nor am I anyone’s! I’m not a lady -- I never was! I’m barely even a Cromwell! My mother ran away from home and eloped with a merchant against our family’s wishes -- Grandfather disowned her long before I was born! I’m just as much an outsider to my family as she was -- as Jacob was! I have no dowry, no money, no status -- the only reason I was even at the palace was because Grandfather sent me to work there! I’m a maidservant, a peasant, an orphan...I’m nothing!”

Orion’s eyes were very wide upon Carewyn’s face. He seemed a bit intimidated by her ferocity, but he didn’t recoil. Instead he tried again to reach out. 

“You’re not nothing, Carewyn Cromwell -- you’ve never been nothing...”

He didn’t touch her this time, instead clutching his own hands in his lap, but inched as close to her as she’d let him. 

“Carewyn, I was a peasant myself, until my half-brother, the first Prince, was killed,” he whispered. Once again, the anxiety that made his heart race and his head pound was making him talk in a faster, tenser, rambling voice. “It doesn’t matter to me what you are -- I know who you are, and you’re the furthest thing from nothing to -- ”

“Who I am!” 

Carewyn couldn’t contain her volatile emotions. She clutched at her own face, the nails digging into her skin. 

“Who I am is a SLAVE, Orion! A slave to the Devil I stupidly trusted, thinking he would help my brother...the Devil I stupidly followed the bidding of, trying to get him a crown through my cousins, in the misguided thought that it would spare Jacob from further suffering! And instead...instead all I did was stay in line, march lock-step, for no reason at all! My brother died alone, because of me! I gave up our freedom for nothing!”

Her nails left red marks on her face with the effort of trying to force back her tears. 

“Everything, all of it -- all of this pain is my own fault! All because I couldn’t save Mum or Jacob -- because I was actually stupid enough to believe Grandfather would help me, pathetic enough to become as much of a liar and a fraud as he is -- ”

Orion impulsively unclasped his hands and grabbed hold of hers gripping her face. 

“Carewyn, please,” he choked. His eyes were rippling like turbulent black waves and his voice was strained with anxiety. “This is your inner beast talking, not you. You don’t deserve this pain and grief. You deserve more, so much more -- you deserve to be happy -- you deserve to be free. If I could break your chains, I would -- if I could bring your brother back, I would -- if I could give you the Southern Sea itself for you to sail on, I would -- ”

Orion’s hands were shaking as he tried and failed to peel her hands from her face. He couldn’t bear to see this woman who had always been so strong, who had become an anchor when he’d needed it, so off-balance. He knew he needed to find his center, and try to focus...but how could he, when his center of balance was the cause of his lack of balance? It made it so that all Orion could do was mirror Carewyn, becoming more upset and losing more hope as she did. 

His heartrate was spiking. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to do or say, to fend off the beast assaulting the woman he loved. 

“Please...” Orion whispered, “please don’t hurt yourself like this -- please -- let me help you...”

All of a sudden, a lantern was lit inside the manor. A window opened, and the sound of voices came out of it.

“Who’s there?!” bellowed the voice of Blaise Cromwell.

Carewyn and Orion both stiffened. Orion’s hands tightened on Carewyn’s on her face, but she tore out of his grip again.

“Go,” she said very coldly. 

Orion faltered, his face desperate. “Carewyn -- ”

“Now. Before you’re caught trespassing.”

Despite the coldness of her voice, it was not cruel. It was very quiet and strained, despite its lack of light -- an opaque shadow of her usual voice. 

Orion’s hands were trembling as he impulsively grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his lips. 

“Come with -- ”

But she withdrew her hand. 

“I said go now!” 

Orion closed his eyes, trying to hold in the wounded, miserable flinch that passed over his face. 

It was the first time she’d refused to accept his help at all. When they’d first met, he’d said that if she did refuse his help when it was offered willingly, it would only serve to make her all the more wonderful of a contradiction...but now that she had...it only served to make his heart break. 

She’s in so much pain, he thought. She’s in so much pain, and yet still, even now, she cannot place her well-being over someone else’s. Even now, she sacrifices, and endures, and suffers...even now, she’s so...

Orion was breathing heavily, shakily. His thoughts were racing as fast as his heart, making his brain throb just as badly. 

He was in no state to help her fight her beast in that moment, while fighting his own...especially when she had already surrendered to it. 

And so, Orion did as Carewyn asked. He turned away and ran back to his horse. He climbed back onto its back, flicked the reins, and charged back off into the rain, just as the door of the Cromwell estate opened.

Orion returned to the Florentine capital. He was so off-balance that he didn’t have the heart to try to go look for Andre, KC, Erika, and the Weasleys, to tell them where Carewyn had gone. He didn’t have the heart to face them, knowing that Carewyn’s brother had been killed in a conflict with his own father’s men. (For, as one might recall, Orion never learned the circumstances behind the spell cast to stall Jacob’s death.) 

Orion arrived at the palace soaking wet nearly three hours later, just before midnight. It was fortunate he did, for as soon as he rode in through the gates, a pretty woman with braided blond hair rushed out to him. It was Penny Haywood -- the chief medic from the war front.

“Orion! Thank God you’re back!”

Orion was too emotionally overwhelmed to give her a proper greeting. Instead he tried to detach himself, climbing off his horse and immediately moving toward the stable to tie her up. Penny, however, seized the horse’s reins out of his hand and stepped in front of him. 

“You must go to your father at once,” she said urgently. “He’s up in his chambers -- ”

“I shall speak with him in the morning,” said Orion lowly. He let Penny take his horse -- he couldn’t focus on fighting with her about it. He just had to get somewhere quiet, away from the thunder and pounding thoughts in his head...

“No,” said Penny, her voice very strained. “You must see him now, Orion -- ”

She held onto his horse’s reins as she pursued him and grabbed his shoulder. 

“Orion...the King is dying.”

It seemed that General Parkin hadn’t just been blustering back at the battlefield, when he was trying to coax Orion to return with him to camp. The battle King Cosimo V had prematurely waged against the Royaumanian army had stolen many lives and injured many...the most prominent of which was the King himself. He had been shot several times in the heart, an injury too traumatic to the human body for any of Penny’s potions to heal -- and so all that could be done was stall his death through a spell that temporarily gave him the heart of a pig the army had co-opted from a local farm. Severus Snape, the court magician, had stood by the King in his chambers maintaining the spell, in the hopes that Orion would return in time to say his proper goodbyes. 

Orion found Skye and McNully waiting outside the King’s bedchambers. Skye offered Orion a towel to dry off, but Orion silently shook his head and, with a trembling hand, pushed open the door. 

Snape was sitting at the King’s bedside, his concentration fixed on his spell, but was talented enough of a magician that his focus wasn’t broken when Orion entered the room. 

“Your Highness,” said Snape lowly. “At last.”

Orion clasped his hands in front of him. “Master Snape.”

The court magician’s expression was very stony, but he nonetheless rose to his feet and moved to Orion, his eyes boring into his face solemnly. 

“I shall leave you alone, to speak with him,” he murmured. “Be quick. His time is short.”

Orion closed his eyes, his head falling in something of a half-hearted nod. Snape swept past him, his outer robes billowing behind him like a bat’s wings, and he closed the large door behind him with a soft, but resounding boom. 

Orion’s hands were very clammy. He squeezed them tightly, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth in a vain attempt to calm his racing heart. 

“Cosimo...?”

His father’s voice came out very hushed. Orion’s eyes shot open, startled and dismayed. 

“Be quick,” the memory of Snape’s voice urged him again.

Taking a deep breath, Orion swept over to his father’s bedside, sitting down in the chair that Snape had been sitting in before. 

The King of Florence lay limply in bed, his green eyes half-mast upon Orion’s face. When his son approached, something in them softened. 

“Cosimo,” he murmured. “You’re safe...”

Orion nodded. “Yes.”

The King closed his eyes, his expression breaking into a relieved smile. Orion swallowed back the lump in his throat. 

“Father,” he said quietly, “I didn’t know you were injured -- if I had, I would’ve come to the camp straightaway...”

“I’m grateful for that,” said the King. “Under the circumstances...I’m afraid I did wonder.”

Orion’s black eyes grew a little smaller. “You believed I wouldn’t care, if you died?”

The King’s face grew very somber as he slowly opened his eyes again. “Not believed. Simply wondered. And...perhaps understood the logic of it.”

Orion’s eyebrows knit together over his eyes with confusion and upset. “Well, I’m afraid I fail to.”

The King sighed. 

"...You have never had an easy life, Cosimo,” he said lowly. “I knew it long before you became Prince, and yet I did nothing to mitigate it. I was never a father to you, when you were young. I never gave you anything but a paltry allowance, to make sure you were clothed and fed. All because I chose my duty to our people and country over my love for your mother.”

Orion squeezed his own hands tightly. 

“I do not resent you for that,” he murmured. “You couldn’t abandon your responsibility...nor your first son. If you’d done what Mother had intended, and cast aside your wife and my half-brother so that I would be sole prince and heir, I’m certain you would’ve had just as many regrets. My half-brother would’ve been the one in my place...and after having actually known you as a father, that would’ve been far more crippling to his sense of balance -- to his identity and his life.”

His black eyes softened sadly. 

“I’m not foolish enough to think that Mother was right, to expect you to choose her ambitions over your duty. She should never have put you in the position to make such a choice...least of all by giving me your name, so that everyone would know I was meant to be a replacement for your first son...who I know you loved more than anyone else. I’ll always love and miss my mother...but she never learned that one can’t love another person by forcing them to choose between two sides of their heart.”

The memory of Carewyn crumpled over in grief in response to her brother’s death rippled over his mind again. 

I couldn’t tell her not to grieve for him. I couldn’t disrespect her, by refusing to leave, when she told me to...by forcing her onto my horse and stealing her away...

His heart clenched. 

Even so...I wish I did. I wish I wasn’t such a coward that I didn’t just refuse to leave her side, no matter what she or her family said...no matter what happened...

But Royaume and Florence were still at war, despite everything. If he’d stayed and been arrested or gotten into a physical altercation with Carewyn’s family, what would that have helped? Who would it have helped? 

The King’s green eyes trailed over Orion’s face, slightly awed. Then they melted, rippling like emeralds under candlelight, and he reached out a hand through the bed curtains toward Orion. 

“...You truly have become so wise, Cosimo,” he whispered, his eyes sliding closed. “So wise...”

After a brief hesitation, Orion shakily detached his hands and took his father’s in both of them. 

“You...will be a great king, my son.”

Orion’s eyes fell down to his father’s hand. 

“I’m not ready,” he confessed. 

“No prince is.”

King Cosimo squeezed his son’s hands, the tension flooding out of his shoulders. 

“Tell me about her,” he murmured.

“About Mother?” asked Orion.

The King shook his head. “No. The lady you wrote of, in your letter. The Royaumanian.”

Orion’s heart felt like it had been dunked in water. It sparked some adrenaline and made his heart race, yes...but it was still so cold...

“She’s...”

Orion closed his eyes. He inhaled and exhaled several times to try to steady his heartrate. 

“...a robin in a cage, Father.”

The King didn’t respond. Orion pressed on. 

“She has a frame so small and fragile that anyone could underestimate her...but her soul has wings strong enough to take flight, if she so chose. Her feathers sheen with light and color, yet they pale in the face of the brilliance of her eyes. She flits about with courage and agility. She has a heart too large for her red breast to contain...and so she sings. Oh, how she sings! Her song could soothe the most savage beasts...and they have, in the hearts of men. It can bring people together -- inspire hope for a future that had seemed impossible. And...”

He swallowed.

“...she’s selfless. The bravest, kindest, most selfless person I’ve ever met in my life. Nothing frightens her. Nothing intimidates her. No pain is one she won’t endure...so long as the people she loves thrive. As long as she can bring others happiness...she’ll take every bit of pain onto her own shoulders, take the brunt of the whole world’s ire...just so that no one else has to. She’ll help a complete stranger simply because they need help...and yet never demand a single thing for herself. All because, even with how wonderful and good of a person she is...she still somehow sees herself as unworthy.”

His voice had become very hushed. 

“Her standards...are higher than I could ever fathom.”

“I can imagine.” 

The King’s hand squeezed Orion’s hands lightly. 

“She truly has inspired you, Cosimo. I realize now that you never wished to be a King of War, as I have been...but she was the one who encouraged you to fight for that wish, regardless of the risk. When I first read your letter...I was so blinded by my own fears...of losing you, as I had your brother...that I could only read your words as evidence that an infatuation had caused you to recklessly put yourself in danger...just as I might have, as a young man. But now...now I only regret that I won’t get to meet Lady Cromwell myself.”

He opened his eyes, and to Orion’s surprise, they’d started to flood with tears. 

“I understand the pain of loving someone who you’re not free to be with,” said the King. “I lament that you must know it too...but from the sound of things...your lady knows love better than either I or your mother did.”

He actually gave a choked laugh. 

“Please consider courting her -- I’d love knowing my son had a queen like that, by his side.”

Orion wanted to smile in return, but he just couldn’t. 

Somewhere far away, a clock began to toll the hour. The sound made Orion’s heart clench with anxiety. 

“No...”

He looked at his father. As the second toll gonged, the King clutched his chest. The third and fourth tolls prompted the wounds in his chest to start reopening.

“My time is up, Cosimo,” the King said solemnly. 

“No,” said Orion again, “no...not yet...”

“It’s all right.”

The sixth gong made the blood blossom up out of the wounds in his chest. Despite the pain he was clearly in, King Cosimo faced Orion with a very brave, firm expression.

“You must promise,” he told him, and his voice came out as a rasp, “promise me you’ll rule Florence from your heart...justly...and wisely.”

Orion felt like his racing heart was stuck in his throat. 

“...I promise,” he said at last. 

“Follow...your lady’s example. Have courage...and be kind.” 

“I will. I promise.” 

The tenth toll of the clock made blood spill out the side of the King’s mouth, but he forced a smile all the same, even as tears streamed from his eyes. 

“...I’ve...never been more proud...to be your father.” 

He kept his eyes on Orion’s face all the way up until the last stroke of midnight. His eyes remained there even after all of the light had left them and he had taken his final breath. 

Orion’s hands were shaking as he held his father’s limp hand. He bowed his head, closing his eyes, and sat there in silence. He breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth, for a very long moment. 

Florence...its people, its land, was solely his responsibility now. 

His shoulders suddenly felt so heavy -- as if he were suddenly Atlas, with the weight of the world resting upon him. It was suffocating, but it was also devastating...for no man could hope to run free, carrying such a heavy burden. He wouldn’t be able to leave Florence as he pleased any longer. He wouldn’t be able to escape from his duties for a day, or make believe he was anything other than what he was. 

Carewyn couldn’t fly because she was in a cage. And now...Orion couldn’t fly because he bore a weight too heavy for him to carry. 

It was only when the door of the chambers opened several minutes later and Skye, McNully, Penny, and Snape all reentered that Orion raised his head. He looked over his shoulder at them, his face very restrained and calm, even though his black eyes were shining with unshed tears. 

Skye immediately ran over to Orion and threw her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in his shoulder and squeezing tight. McNully wheeled right up beside Orion too, his own eyes full of tears. For once, he didn’t seem to know what to say.

The door inched a bit more open, and Orion caught sight of Lord Malfoy coming to stand in the door frame. Although he was dressed in black and tried to appear solemn, however, his cold gray eyes were glinting with an odd kind of satisfaction. 

Lord Malfoy had certainly not planned for things to unfold as they did...but the wealthy businessman wasn’t unhappy at the thought of the King who’d been too noble for his own good being replaced with an ignorant bastard peasant. 

Orion released King Cosimo’s hand at last to hug Skye in return. Then, detaching himself from her, he rose from the chair and moved over to the bed so he could bring up a hand and gently close his father’s eyes. 

“The King is dead,” Snape said solemnly, his eyes locked solidly on Orion as the Crown Prince faced him. “Long live the King.”

[purkinje-effect]

Asking for Trouble

Cait gets a terrible first impression of Melancholy, my Sole.

This blurb has sat in my drafts for a few years now, and I decided to polish it up and finish the thought. Not sure if the encounter will be canon to Anatomy, but it’s here nonetheless. (For those curious to timeline placement, we’ll say this is roughly after the Park Street Station stuff in Fourth Instar, and sometime after his falling out with Mac.)

TWs: Heavy angst, injury and death, drug use and alcohol, explicit description of drug side effects, and violence-baiting.

Cross-posted on AO3 here if you’d rather. Likes, comments, kudos, etc. are all greatly, greatly appreciated.

_____________________________________

Someone at the Dugout Inn had mentioned this place. ‘Choly had come here with a vague recollection that the Combat Zone had once paraded skin. It only served to live up to its name now without any innuendo. Observing a little violence could be cathartic, too, and damn, if he couldn’t use some catharsis after his myriad missteps in Goodneighbor. All his life a spectator, vicarious in every regard.

He belonged here far before Goodneighbor or Diamond City, regardless of looking the part. Who could say a quavering, grey little man wearing a white three piece suit over head-to-toe leather orthotic braces didn’t fit right in among these earthly, physical misfits? He certainly couldn’t see any hackneyed political messes or territory wars erupting here: only people blowing off steam any way they could find it.

He couldn’t entirely say he minded that Angel’s compulsive cleaning habits almost always nettled the Hister Handy into picking up after social locations like this burlesque theater which now showcased cage fights. The possibility any of these raiders might hack it almost avoided him altogether, since he seemed like the only one with a Pip-Boy with which to do so. Such a worry would stick with him long-term after what he’d seen the Rust Devils do to Lowell.

His mind sang praises that Angel had allowed him to resume adding alkaloids to his meal replacement beverage, the Melancholia. Hubeine gave him negligible trouble compared to other options.

The fight unfolding before him was the billed spectacle for the night: for one hour, plus implicit encores, Cait would take down any body foolish enough to step foot into the cage to fistfight her unarmed. He swirled at some bourbon in a shot glass, from his bar seat to one side of the stage. His cataract eyes raised as he watched her continue through the athletic redhead’s performance. Somehow she managed restraint just shy of lethal blows, despite her precision and brute force. Any composure belied the depth of her murderous and bottomless rage. Glassy and lugubrious, he followed her bared teeth and retracted lips, her unblinking eyes, her adrenaline-wired and overworked musculature, her leaden instinctual footwork.

Despite having knocked out seven opponents in twenty minutes already, she wore more of their blood than they did.

In every mannerism, he recognized his enlisted in her. He stopped sipping at his liquor and threw the glass back, only to refill it.

Cait danced with the eighth opponent for about a minute before things escalated. The burly, hairy man pulled a switchblade on her, and managed to gouge her in the arm. In the physical sense, it didn’t faze her. In the mental sense, it had shattered the sanctity of her performance. She roared at him and lunged to sink her teeth into his face.

The crowd exploded. Her ghoul manager stepped in and attempted to stop the match-up, but he knew better than to get between her and the fool. She refused first aid, intent to fuck the guy up. The man kept his distance from her, knife still drawn, clutching at his gushing cheek. she voiced her displeasure to her manager, and he seemed to walk away and leave her again to her opponent... Only to bring her a baseball bat. A bloodied grin ripped across her face as she choked up on it like a familiar friend.

‘Choly smiled quaintly, head askew. The ghoul knew that the crowd demanded results--and more importantly, he knew that the crowd needed to see the consequences of forsaking what little honor they agreed upon in this dive.

She slugged him in the head. As he fell over, she proceeded to beat the shit out of him. The resultant din deafened much how ‘Choly might imagine Fenway Park during the World Series. Not that baseball had been his druthers. God, he wished that had been him on the receiving end. Between her hair, her leather corset, and the carnage, red was so very much her color. Head to toe, she was rage incarnate.

No one wanted to challenge her after that, especially not if they had to step around the bloody mess she’d splattered across the stage.

Time blurred a bit in ‘Choly’s shot glass. The next he looked up, he realized the champion sat beside him to drown herself in a fifth of vodka straight from the bottle. He straightened as coolly as he could, shifting to watch her. He adjusted his half-moon glasses, but could otherwise not obfuscate his alarm. He couldn’t leave alone the familiarity of the untethered ferocity with which she carried herself.

“Forgive me if this is forward of me, but I will get you any chems you want, if you will swear off cyclomorphine. The Psycho.”

“Bull shit,” came a potent Irish twang. She slammed down the bottle. Beneath the indignity in her glower, a tinge of fear felt more like the pressure of desperation. “You suggestin’ I couldn’t possibly fight as well as I do, weren’t I doped up? Your stupid mug hasn’t been here before. I’d remember. Who the hell do you think you are, to go around insultin’ the talent?”

His heart begged hot for her to retaliate. His gloved fingers tapped gingerly at the barely varnished countertop.

“I mean it. Name it. Med-X. Calmex. Anything but Psycho. I’ll even get dirty and brew you the most potent Jet you’ve ever had, if what you really need is escapism and not a low. CM isn’t a chem. It’s a death sentence. And... even if that’s the desired end result, that’s just about as gruesome and painful as it gets.”

She swiveled on the bar stool, resting both hands squarely on her spread knees. Her dead gaze bored through him.

“The fuck do you care so much about this wild theory of yours? You go around cold readin’ everybody’s vices tryin’ to hock your snake oil? Some salesman you are. You’ve got the Charisma of a Mirelurk egg that’s been in the sun.”

He raised his hands in defense, and then said what he meant sooner than meaning what he said.

“I’m not trying to sell you anything. I keep trying to offer solutions to the people I’ve hurt with my life choices, fix the damage rather than enterprise on it. Please let me get you chasing a different devil. Anything but that.”

“You’ve never met me in your life, and I don’t know your name or face from a Molerat in the floorboards. Don’t you try and bullshit me into believing you’re capable of fixing what ails me--and don’t you dare try to take credit for anyone that’s wronged me.”

“I’m the reason Psycho exists in the quantities it does in the Commonwealth. So yes, your pain IS my fault, at least part--”

His jaw seared. ‘Choly found himself sprawled in the floor. He felt around for his glasses, and as they returned to his face, he smiled up at her imploringly from where she stood over him. She cracked her knuckles sourly.

“I don’t have time for this nonsense. Tryin’ t’say I’m the one’s got a chem problem. What color is the sky for you? Forget you.”

Her hard exterior began to show signs of crumblign, in a series of stifled tics, most noticeably a corner of her mouth and the same ear. He could only begin to speculate to what exactly it was she’d taken exception, but he had to keep her attention, hold her contempt. Charm had never come naturally to him, so instead he had to sound the part of insisting at all costs that he was right.

“--Fine, you don’t want to quit. That’s a choice, too. I’ll make however much Psycho you want. You want to go out like that, I can help you with that. But I want you to know just exactly what that death looks like. Abscessed injection sites. Your gums and cuticles bleed. Your tear ducts bleed. It weakens all your capillaries, the tiniest blood vessels in your body. Internal bleeding. Organ deterioration. The numbness doesn’t turn off the pain--it only makes it so you don’t care. Is the anger easier than the hurt? If that’s how you want to go out, I’m not in any position to question it. But you might as well have an expert supplying you with it.”

Rather than help him up, she bore a heel down on his right hand. With an anxious chuckle, he winced, but welcomed being pinned in place. She glared down at him, seething. She didn’t want to hear another word from him, but she had to. Something about him surely sounded more deranged than intoxicated, and it threatened to haunt her.

“Do you know why cyclomorphine exists?” he continued, breath stuttering all the while. “Do you know what it is? Of course not. It was a prewar chemical--I can’t even comfortably endear it a chem--that the military developed so its soldiers no longer felt injury or fatigue. They endeavored to engineer soldiers who wouldn’t quit when hurt, even fatally. And it was only one of a dozen projects of its kind, to exploit the different aspects of human limits. Nothing human came from refining Psycho. It destroys something fundamental to a sense of humanity. The perfect formula didn’t concern itself with whether the patient came back in one piece, or alive at all. The Deenwood Project wasn’t poetic, wasn’t artistic, didn’t make a single beautiful thing. The fact that CM fell into paramilitary use after my tenure ended with the Army... and the fact it now as a result flows freely throughout the country as holdovers from... from the police attempting to keep the peace through intense and consistent violence... The fact is, I’m one of the chemists responsible for cyclomorphine’s end product. Responsible for it being one of the devices of America’s victory at Anchorage... So yes, yes I am. Responsible for what ails you. You’re civilian collateral of the United States Army.”

Her posture shifted slowly from anger to bitterness. She ground her heel into his palm. He pretended the token of her grief got through the reinforced officer’s glove.

“It’s not my place to question the source of your pain, and it’s not my place to insist that I be the one to take it away. I simply know that no matter how great the pain you’re in... Psycho dissolves parts of you, every time you use it to numb you. It begins physically, then advances to spiritually. It robs you of who you are.”

“That’s just the thing. I can’t handle bein’ me. This is the only part I’m fit to play. Besides, Tommy only cares if his juggernaut brings in the caps. I’m beholden to a contract. And the way I see it, you’re tryin’ to come between a man and his money, pokin’ around where your nose doesn’t belong! You’re lucky we’re out here and not in the cage, creep. Either I’m paid to beat your arse, or you’re askin’ to get blackballed.”

He sighed dreamily up at her, almost regretting that she let up on his hand. She drew her fists when his hand went to the lining pocket of his vest, but he chuckled producing a sack of caps.

“I thought you’d never ask. I admire one who rests their agency in someone else’s hands--or pockets, as it were. Surely, this is to the tune of you doing the honors. Add a black eye to the busted jaw. Tack on whatever you like. Ladies’ choice.”

She snatched the sack from him, frowning incredulously.

“What kind of sick flirting game is this? You tryin’ to buy me into bed? I know I’m easy on the eyes, but this isn’t a brothel these days, in case your damaged brain can’t tell the difference.”

He knew he wouldn’t be getting back the sack, but at least he’d tricked her into accepting some fleck of reparations from him.

“How many caps would it take to break your contract? To get you out of here?”

A broken sarcastic laugh crackled out of her. He’d long since surpassed overstepping, having moved on to stepping on toes.

“You’re insane if you think I’d ever want to leave the Combat Zone, especially not on the arm of the likes of you. I’ve got everything I could want here--except right now, not a place without you. You’re the one who needs to lay off the chems. Get your stupid brain-damaged arse out of here before I ask Tommy what I can do with you.”

He whistled for Angel, then retrieved his cane to stand.

“I suppose if you won’t let me help you, obliging you is the least I can do.”

With his Handy by his side, the two left without further question.

On his walk back to Hotel Rexford, he accepted that he’d probably never know the answer, but still he wondered if he had the same or opposite trouble as Cait: Were the two chasing a perpetual numbness, or were they chasing the futility of trying to feel anything again, at any cost?

[buriednurbckyrd]

The Breakup Box (3)

Not here, was her first thought.  It was too personal, too intimate to have the conversation when she slept.  But where?  What could be neutral ground but also private enough that no one else could overhear what needed to be said?  

“The water,” she blurted out.  “I mean...”  She paused and swallowed the lump in her throat.  “Yes.  We do need to talk, but can you meet me over by the water in a few minutes?”  Bucky's face remained impassive but Steve nodded.  

“Okay, five minutes.  We'll meet you there.”  He started to turn but Bucky held his arm out to stop him.

“So you can have a chance to bolt?  I don't think so, we'll go together.”

“Come on, Buck.”  Steve sighed.  

“No, that's fair.”  Y/N said quietly.  “I wasn't going to leave,” she shot Bucky a pleading look as if silently begging him to believe her.  “But I haven't exactly given either of you reason to trust me not to.”  She turned and took a zippered hoodie from her closet and slipped it on.  There was a chill around her and she expected it would linger until the air was cleared.  Knowing they would follow behind, she started walking.  

What would she even say?  Before she had seen them she thought she had known.  It was completely foreign experience for her.  There were never awkward silences between the three of them, she could tell them anything and everything.  Hadn't Bucky been willing to share the darkest parts of his past?  And Steve was always telling her stories of their childhood, good and bad.  She hesitated for a moment at the door, overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions.  Fear licked up her spine and her entire body went numb with it.    

“Y/N?” Steve touched her shoulder gently and it jolted her back to reality. She shoved the door open and forced her legs to continue to move. Her chest tightened and she fought the urge to hyperventilate and kept her breaths deep and even.  She realized the only thing she wanted was one of their hugs which never failed to make her feel safe and secure.  Another icy shard bloomed in her belly at the thought.  She prayed after it was over that could still be an option.  

They followed her to the casual seating area by the large pond on the property.  The late afternoon sun gleamed over the water.  It was tranquil and quiet.  Y/N was too full of anxious energy to sit so she paced.  Steve nudged Bucky with his elbow.

“Be patient, okay?”  He said quietly.  “She's here, that's half the battle.  Let her go at her own pace.”  Bucky replied with an annoyed sound, but he made no move to prod Y/N along.  

“Could you, I don't know…just sit down or something?”  She finally said after a long silence.  “You're making me more nervous standing like that.”  Steve settled down on a bench and gestured at Bucky to join him.  She stopped in front of them and looked up.  “I don't even know where to begin.”  She told them, misery written all over her face.  

“Could start with an apology.”  Bucky muttered under his breath and grunted when Steve kicked his shin.  

“I really do apologize for how I acted,” she wrung her hands together.  “Neither of you did anything wrong and I should have just been honest.”  She pressed her fingers over her eyes, refusing to cry.  “I'm so, so sorry.  I've been dealing with a lot of shit but there's no excuse for treating either of you like I did.”  Steve leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  

“What happened, Y/N?  I just want to understand.”  He looked over at the other man.  “We want to understand.”  

“Short story?  I got dumped.  And before that, I was totally humiliated.” Bucky crossed his arms.

“Gonna need the long story, sweetheart.”  The pet name, however briskly delivered gave her a small flame of hope.  

“I figured.”  She began to pace again.  “I was a fucking idiot.  I planned this whole getaway because I couldn't see what was right in front of me.  And that's embarrassing enough on its own, but it gets worse.  I told him, hey, you always plan our dates let me do this. Booked a fancy hotel room, probably the nicest place I've ever stayed in my whole life.  Tony helped me get a reservation at this amazing new sushi restaurant, which I thought would be such a great surprise since he had mentioned wanting to try it when it opened.  

And like a chump I didn't notice how antsy he was about it all.  Disappeared when I checked us in.  Practically sprinted to the room.”  She let out a bitter laugh.  “Tried to sweet talk me out of going to dinner.  Which I almost fell for, but I had a brand new dress and I wanted to wear it.  I wanted to go eat world class cuisine with my boyfriend and feel like a princess.”  She chewed on her thumbnail. “Everything went smooth a silk.  I felt pretty, the food was incredible, so far it was a perfect night.  Then on our way out he suddenly turns green.  Not because the food didn't agree with him, but because we run into a group of his friends.  And introduces me as a client.”  

“Excuse me?”  Steve sounds stunned.  

“Yup. Not his girlfriend of nearly ten months.  A client of the company he works for.”  

“Why?” Bucky demands.  

“Oh believe me, as soon as we were alone I asked.  Kind of wish I didn't.”  She gestured at her body.  “Because of this.  Because according to him, I don't look like a believable romantic partner for him.”  

“You're fucking joking.”  

“Hand to god, Buck.  I have more stamina than he could ever hope to achieve, not to mention the fact that I could literally hand him his own ass.  But because I don't look a certain way, don't meet some set of societal standards I wasn't good enough to be seen with him by people he knew.  Then all those nagging little red flags were suddenly clear as day.  He always took me to obscure little places.  Never any place popular or busy if we went out.  Most of the time he invited me to his place for dinner and I thought it was sweet and romantic that he wanted to cook for me. He made me into a fool.”

“Please tell me you don't believe that,”  Steve stood up and grabbed her hands.  “Y/N, you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen in my life, inside and out.  That guy is the one that should be ashamed.”  She smiled softly and drew her hands back.  

“Thanks. I know he's the one that's lacking.  He's the one that isn't good enough for me.  But it doesn't mean that it didn't sting.”  She blew out a long breath. “Him coming back to the hotel to drop of that box of my belongings was a pretty big slap in the face too.  Just let all the hotel staff know how stupid I was.”  

“Stop saying that,” Bucky finally spoke up.  “I can't stand it when you put yourself down.”  

“Sorry,” she scrubbed her hands over her face.  “I know it's a bad habit.”

“Y/N, why didn't you end it then and there?  Why did you let him break it off?”  Steve asked.

“Because I was a coward, don't argue with me right now Bucky, I was.  And even though he was wrong about almost everything he wasn't about the biggest issue.”  Her heart started to race, was she actually going to do this?  

“What issue?”  Bucky prompted.  She looked at the both of them, eyes sad.

“I didn't really want to be with him.  If I had, I never would have overlooked all the ways he mistreated me, disrespected me.  Every resentment and accusation just spilled out then, and there was absolutely nothing I could do or say because it was all true.”  She couldn't stop the tears any more, and it felt like weakness.  “Shit, I wasn't going to cry.  I'm not trying to get pity or anything.”

“Didn't think that for a second.”  Bucky said softly, his heart ached for his friend.  

“Everything is my fault,” she said bitterly.  “I did the only thing I promised I would never do, I lied.  To him, to myself.”  She choked on a sob.  “To both of you.”  Steve reached out for her.  “No, don't.”

“What are you talking about?  What did you lie about?”  His blue eyes were so full of concern.  She shook her head violently.  

“I can't tell you!”  She yelled.  “But I can't not tell you either!”

“Y/N, please whatever it is-”  

“I can't be around you anymore and keep it in, that's why I keep running away.  But if I tell you and lost you both I couldn't bear it!” She held her head in her hands and trembled.  Both men tried to get a hold of her but she dodged them.

“There's nothing you could say that would make us walk away from you.” Bucky said in a thick voice.  

“He's right, you're our girl, Y/N.”  Steve meant it to be comforting but it only upset her more.  

“Am I though?”  She wiped her eyes furiously.  “Because I love you.” She looked at them both, and her shoulders slumped.  “I'm in love with you, both of you.”  Steve and Bucky could only stare at her in shock.  “That's why I kept running, I can't keep all this,” she pressed her hands over her heart.  “Locked away anymore.  I was hoping maybe I could get it under control, but I can't.  Being around you both is so overwhelming.  I don't deserve your forgiveness because it was selfish.  It's selfish telling you, and I never wanted to put you in this position.”  

“Y/N...” Steve reached for her again.  

“I don't expect anything.”  Her voice was flat, as if all the wind had gone out of her sails.  “You have each other and all I want is you to be happy together.”  She gasped when Bucky's vibranium hand closed over her wrist, pulling her roughly towards him.  His other hand was warm and gentle when it cupped her cheek, and before she knew what was happening his lips were on hers.  When he pulled away her eyes were as big as saucers. “What?”  Steve swept in before she could finish her thought and kissed her too, holding her against his body.  

“Our girl.”  He murmured into her ear.  She found herself sandwiched between the two of them.  

“You always were.”  Bucky told her and she could the smile in his voice.

next

[epochofbelief]

Our couple just got together a while ago and they dont know each other habits yet. So when one of them sleeps really late and doesnt answer messages the other is really worried... I hope this is okay 😊 I dont have any preferences for our couple. But I think this would go well with Rowaelin.

i’m so glad I can always count on @queen-of-glass​ to provide me with a lovely and fun prompt:))))this is highly unedited lol

-----

The music thumped loudly throughout the house as Aelin and Lysandra pushed their way to the kitchen. She couldn’t remember whose house this was--Fenrys and Connall’s? Gavriels? It was somebody’s from the most popular group of senior boys. It certainly wasn’t Lorcan’s.

Finally, Lysandra left Aelin in the dust and returned moments later with two cups of beer. Aelin seized it, knocked her plastic cup against Lysandra’s, the they chugged in unison. This was their pre-graduation party, after all. No holding back, they had decided before they’d arrived. Aedion was going to be their DD, wherever he was.

They finished their cups in a few moments, squished against the wall near the staircase. Someone passed by with a bottle of vodka, offering it to random partygoers. Lysandra shouted, and the boy--Fenrys, Aelin could now see--let each of the girls take a shot.

“I’m going back for more!” Aelin shouted over the music.

“I’m going to find Aedion!” Lysandra responded, and Aelin rolled her eyes. If only her cousin and her best friend would DATE already. Barely two drinks in and Lysandra had to go find him, leaving her to fend for herself. Typical.

A few months ago, Aelin would have been able to go to Chaol. They’d enjoyed the few high school parties they’d attended for the few months they had dated. But that had been over for nearly two months. Ever since Lys and Aedion started... flirting? Talking? Whatever--ever since then Aelin had felt a little like a third wheel. She wanted them to be happy, of course, but her two closest friends were now so wrapped up in each other that Aelin had started wanting that for herself again.

Two cups of beer and two more shots later, Aelin found herself wandering around, looking for someone to talk to. Fenrys, her usual drinking buddy, was nowhere to be seen. The same could be said for Lysandra and Aedion. Without thinking, Aelin made her way up the staircase to the second floor. Despite the alcohol numbing most of her feelings, she still felt lonely.

She slipped into the first door on the right and found a teenage boy’s room behind it. It was clean, though, and sparsely furnished. The pile of basketball uniforms and gear in the corner was enough to tell her that this was Rowan Whitethorn’s room, and therefore that meant this was Rowan Whitethorn’s house. Shit. Aelin had been crushing on him since her freshman year. He was a basketball star, confident, reserved, a decent guy. She’d always figured she stood no chance with him, seeing as they ran in different circles.

“I’ll be right there!” A voice sounded from beyond the door and Aelin frantically looked for an escape room. There was nowhere to go.

So standing motionless in the center of his bedroom was exactly where Rowan Whitethorn found her, moments later.

“Hi.” He said shortly.

“Hi,” Aelin managed to breathe. Rowan really was quite good looking.

“Can I help you?”

“No...” Aelin was standing very still, trying to conceal how drunk she was. That would only make this more embarrassing.

“Well, is there any reason you’re in my room?”

Aelin couldn’t resist. “You tell me, Whitethorn,” she said in a low voice, fluttering her eyelashes.

Rowan blushed and pleasure coursed through Aelin’s body. Teasing, especially while drunk, was very fun.

“Funny, Aelin. We don’t even know each other.” He seemed fairly sober.

She shrugged. “Please. We’ve gone to high school together for four years. I know you’re good at basketball, you suck at English, and your math scores are off the charts good. You’re withdrawn, and...” Aelin realized she was rambling. It was her turn to blush as Rowan finally realized that she was drunk.

“So you’re saying that, since we know each other so well, you’re up here because you want to... what, Aelin?”

Aelin glanced at the bed. Rowan smirked. “You’re making fun of me.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Obviously, Whitethorn. But that doesn’t mean I’m not at least partially serious.” The alcohol was making her reckless.

He took a few steps forward. Maybe he was drunker than she had originally assumed...

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you watching me in class the past few weeks. Months. Years.”

He was close enough now that she swatted his arm. “Stop making stuff up.” But he was right. She had always admired him from afar--not in a creepy way.

“You know it’s true.”

Aelin blushed again. This alcohol was destroying her usual confident demeanor! And Rowan Whitethorn’s presence didn’t help that, either. “Well if you’ve noticed me watching you, that means YOU have also been watching ME.”

He stopped in his tracks, now only a hands breadth between them. “Fair enough,” he said simple, and kissed her.

Aelin didn’t question it, only pulled him closer, winding her arms around his neck. His arms wrapped around her waist as their lips met, softly at first and then quickly developing into needy and intense kisses.

After a few moments, they broke apart. “We are too drunk to be doing this now.”

“Who cares?” Aelin said, although she knew he was right.

“I do. I wish our first kiss hadn’t been while we were intoxicated.”

Aelin grinned smugly and placed her hands on her hips. “Oh, so does that mean there will be a second kiss?”

He chuckled. “Maybe so. But not tonight.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Chivalry. And here I was thinking it was dead.”

Rowan slid his hand into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. Aelin just stood there, watching him as he typed his number and texted himself.

“I’ll text you tomorrow,” he said, and turned to go.

“Whitethorn.”

He turned, and Aelin crashed into him, her lips finding his. When they separated, Aelin said, “Guess that third kiss will have to be the sober one.”

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

The next morning, Rowan woke up with a massive headache and happiness flowing through his veins. Last night, he had finally kissed Aelin Galathynius. Aelin had seemed to always have a boyfriend all throughout their high school career. First Sam, a less-popular guy for their class but one who was well known for his success on the swim team. Then Dorian, the President of Student Council, when they were sophomores. Then Chaol for a couple of years. Rowan had loved her since sophomore year, after he’d seen her stand up for Nehemia, her old best friend, in the middle of the cafeteria, in front of the whole school. Some of their classmates had been making fun of Nehemia’s fashion choices and Aelin had told them all to go to hell, earning a week of detention for shouting that phrase--and several other, dirtier curses--all over the lunchroom. But she had done it for her friend.

Rowan had been gone for her ever since.

He checked his phone. It was 10 am. Surely not too early to text her. Right?

He settled with an ambiguous “Hey.” Then he stumbled downstairs to eat breakfast.

When he checked his phone an hour later, there was no response. No need to panic, right? Perhaps she was still asleep. The party had gone rather late, after all.

But by noon, Aelin still hadn’t said anything. Rowan started getting anxious. Had she been drunker than he’d thought last night? Too drunk to remember the kiss? She had seemed fairly coherent, aware. Certainly sober enough to tease him, for gods’ sake. Rowan went for a run, then did some homework, ate lunch, called Gavriel to confess his anxiety about Aelin, and by 3 pm he had reached nearly catastrophic levels of nerves.

So he did exactly what Gavriel had advised him against. He called her.

After several rings, just when he was about to give up and end the call, she picked up.

“Hello?” Her voice sounded through the phone, harsh with disuse.

“Uh... Aelin?”

“Oh my gods, Whitethorn. Why are you calling me at this ungodly hour?”

Rowan checked his watch. “It’s 3:07, Aelin.”

“Shit! I’d meant to wake up at 2:30!”

“That’s still incredibly late, Galathynius. I didn’t realize you were such a late sleeper.” Rowan felt a little stupid. He’d freaked out for nothing.

“How else do you think I got to look this beautiful, Whitethorn? I need my beauty rest.”

Rowan laughed softly. “I’m sorry... I’ll let you go.”

“No, no, I’m up now. Now it’s your job to talk to me.”

Rowan smiled. “I’d be much obliged.”

They talked for the next two hours.

[98prilla]

Collisions

AO3

This idea hit me at like 1am, and I really like how it turned out. 

...

He was a star.

 A brilliant, shining ball of light in the endless darkness of the universe.

 A magnetic pull so strong surely nothing could escape his orbit.

 He was bright and warm and so, so distant.

 He was impossible.

 It was impossible.

 He’d never known the meaning of the word impossible.

 That’s how they got here, he supposes.

 The star is so bright, right now, speaking, saying words, no doubt smart words, he always was the smartest person in the room, and he seemed to glow, a brilliant, blazing white, though that could just be the reflection of the street lamp off the wet pavement.

 His ears were ringing. Which was a shame, really, because he wanted to hear what the star was saying to him, what marvelous poetry was leaving his lips, but he couldn’t hear anything.

 That’s not true. Not entirely. He could hear something. It was almost like the bass coming out of a stereo turned too loud, the thumping of a steady beat, slowly becoming erratic and wrong, out of pace with the rest of the song.

 He felt wet. Warm wet. Not the rain. The rain was cold. It made him shiver, it felt like needles, against his skin. He saw a hint of red, tried to turn his head to see more, to get a glimpse, but the star stopped him, held him still.

 The star was looking into his eyes, almost desperately, pleadingly, and his lips were moving, but for all the suns in the universe, he couldn’t make out anything, even trying to read his lips was a blur, everything was a blur.

 There was that beat again. It fluttered like a snare, now, rat a tatting against his ribcage, and he realized it must be his heart. Idly, he thought hearts aren’t supposed to beat like that.

 Then again, people aren’t supposed to be hit by cars, are they? They’re not made for the force of that impact, to go flying over windshields, to go crashing against glass, to have bones turned at sharp angles and blood in their lungs.

 Oh.

 Was that it?

 It must be.

He dimly remembered something like that. Rain, clouds, drizzle, the star, walking, head in a book, and the car was speeding, going at least 45 down a main street in the small downtown, and the star had stepped off the curb, and the car had come down the street, and he’d had a moment to do something, or not.

 And of course, he acted.

 Of course, he shoved the star out of the way.

 Of course, he went flying head over heels, just as he’d fallen for the star, who in all likelihood, didn’t even know his name.

 That didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that the star didn’t know him. The star was so bright, so brilliant, he couldn’t stand to see it dimmed, see it extinguished, not when it knew so much about so much, not when he was the smartest person he knew, not when he could listen to the star speak for hours and hours about ecosystems, the universe, the world, the concept of identity itself, he’d chosen most of his classes hoping they were the ones the star would take, because he loved to listen to him speak, he often knew more than the teachers did, and anyways, it’s not like he had a plan.

 Not like he’d had much of a future, even before he became a human pancake.

 For some reason that though made him grin, though he felt blood on his tongue, coating his teeth.

 And they said Roman was the hero, well. His last act of brotherly spite would be to steal Roman’s blurb in the year book, hero student saves local star from car crash, the universe thanks him for it. God, it would be a nightmare trying to find a presentable picture of himself for it, one where he wasn’t covered in paint or goo or some other substance, he’d made for his art.

 He heard something. It was loud enough it could reach through his haze, reach through his ears, he recognized it as sirens, and suddenly strobing light illuminated the star from behind his closed lids, huh, when had he closed his eyes?

 “-us. Remus. Stay. Awake. You need to stay awake.” He jolted at that, eyes flying open, like a shot of adrenaline to his heart, because everything blurred and colors seeped into each other like an oversaturated watercolor painting, but Star had said his name, knew his name, and though his limbs were numb and tingling, he could feel a hand in his, squeezing tight.

 He coughed, spitting, feeling himself start to shake, unable to stop, the tremors racing through him, like his own personal earthquake, tearing down his buildings and starting his mind on fire, as it struggled to regain balance, regain composure, but his heart was racing, on the verge of giving out, and it hurt like hell to breathe, and the world was fading out around him, and distantly, he heard shouting, heard loud beeping growing more frantic, heard his star begging him to stay awake, but he couldn’t.

 He just…

 Couldn’t.

…

“-male severe trauma-"

“-coding-"

“-internal bleeding…. Can’t see where-“

…

Beep. Beep. Beep.

 Wow, that noise was annoying.

 A snuffling sound, muted, someone trying to stifle their sobs.

 Heh. He must still be dreaming. No one would cry over him.

 He might cry though, because despite the wonderful painkillers he was no doubt being pumped full of, he hurt like a son of a bitch.

 He must have made some movement, some small sound, because suddenly there was a hand on his arm, a presence near him, and he’d recognize that feel anywhere.

 “Remus. Remus you better not give up on me, you hear me? I swear, I swear, I will hunt you down and kill you again if you die here. Jumped in front of a car, who does that, who jumps in front of a car!?” Roman was still talking, but he couldn’t hear him anymore.

 His thoughts fizzled out as the beeping stopped, becoming one long tone. He could almost hear yelling, almost feel something jolt his chest, almost hear Roman, screaming, but he didn’t.

 He fell back into darkness.

…

Tumbling.

 Tumbling through time and space and memories.

 Here he and Roman played with each other, well, tried to. Roman kept building lego towers, and he kept playing Godzilla, stomping and kicking and roaring as he destroyed Roman’s painstaking creations. It always ended in a fight.

 Here it was their first day of school, and some bully made fun of Roman because he was anxious and cried when their mom left them there. Not ten minutes later she got a call from the principle. Because he’d punched the bitch in the face and nearly broken his nose. Called him a bitch to his face, too, but he didn’t care about the trouble. It made Roman smile.  

 Here it was the start of the end of the two of them as a duo, their first day of high school. Roman fit in so well, with his perfect smile and talent for art and theater and music that was finally appreciated, and there wasn’t room for him anymore, with his unbrushed hair, his wild smile, his blurting mouth, his twisted drawings and horrored paintings, he was just the wierdo, the outcast, the no good brother that always was in some kind of trouble.

 Here Roman was yelling at him. They were having a fight.

 “Why can’t you just be normal for once!?” Roman had shouted, and despite the pain in his chest he forced back his tears, because everyone else hated him or was scared of him or thought he was just going nowhere but he’d thought Roman still cared.

 “Because that’s not who I am! What do you want me to do, Roman?!” He’d yelled back.

 “I want you to stop embarrassing me for a single fucking second!” He’d frozen, reeling back, that stung more than anything else, it broke something inside him, and he felt wetness dripping down his face, felt like screaming, but his breath was caught in his throat.

 He turned and walked out the door.

 There wasn’t anything else he could do.

 If Roman wanted to hurt him that way, fine. Fine, he could take it, he had taken it, from everyone else, it had been stupid to assume just because Roman was his twin that he wouldn’t get sick of him eventually, just like everyone else. It was stupid to hope Roman wanted him around. Stupid to hope Roman liked him.

 So he just walked away. Because if he stayed a moment longer, he’d say something back, say something cruel, and he refused to do that, even now, refused to hurt Roman, who didn’t deserve it.

 That’s why he’d been outside the library, angrily staring at his sketchbook, hands shaking, vision blurred.

 That’s why he’d seen Logan, his star, his universe, his planet, exit the building, lost in a book.

 That’s why his gaze had followed him as he stepped off the pavement, as the car zoomed at least 20 miles over the speed limit, down the street.

 That’s why he’d leapt off his feet and gone running, shoving Logan out of the way, everything moving too fast and too slow as the car tried to brake, but there wasn’t enough time, and he couldn’t help laughing a little, inside, because of course. Of course this would happen to him.

…

 Words.

 Words. A voice. A voice speaking. No.

 Reading. A voice reading.

 It sounded a bit shaky.

 That seemed odd, for some reason. He knew that voice, but he couldn’t remember ever hearing it sound anything less than absolutely sure of itself.  

 It also seemed odd that it would be here, in this… hospital? Must be, nowhere else smelled like plastic gloves and bleach. Well. He could name a few other places that probably smelled like that, but he doubted an ambulance would deliver him to the nearest clean freaks’ orgy.

 Back to the voice. Something about the universe. Something about planets. Something about… stars.

 It took him a long few minutes, to open his eyes. So long, he started to wonder if he even had eyes, or if he was doomed to darkness forever, but still, he struggled to the surface of awareness, if just barely, the world still fuzzed and blurred around the edges, like an old photograph corroded by time and sunlight.

 Not quite sepia. Not quite gray. Just a paleish, tannish, muddled, mess.

 White ceiling. White bed, white sheets, white everything, jesus, was he in a hospital or abducted by aliens? No wonder these people were doctors, no appreciation for art among them, apparently. He already had about a dozen mural designs sketched out in his head, at least four of which would actually be pg enough for a hospital room.

 The voice. The voice had stopped.

 He managed to turn his head, though it took all the effort in the world, that simple motion, and met the wide eyed stare of Logan Star, his star, his universe, his planet, his orbit, not that Logan knew it. Not that anyone did.

 “You’re awake.” Logan said, a bit breathless, a bit afraid, a bit relieved. He managed a small smile, letting out a deep sigh that had him wincing at the pull in his chest.

 “Such a disappointment, I know. Don’t tell my parents, give them a few more hours of peace.” He said flippantly, an ache settling into his bones. Logan made a noise half between a strangled kitten struggling for air and an exasperated goose honking.

  “remus. You almost died. Multiple times. They… the doctors weren’t sure you were going to wake up. Ever.” He laughed at that, wincing at the pain it caused, turning his head back to stare up at the ceiling.

 “well. What difference would it have made? It would almost have been better, if I didn’t wake up. ‘S not like I have a future. Not like anyone would care.” His words started to slur, exhaustion washing over him, but he was afraid, suddenly afraid, to fall back asleep, because what if he didn’t wake up again, after all? “Would ya tell Ro I know he’s sorry, and ‘s okay? I know he didn’t mean it. Well, no, he meant it, but I… understand. He’s right, about me. Always… always is.” He thought he felt a hand slip into his, felt the bed dip slightly, felt a hand stroking his hair, as he slipped back under.

…

He’s lost.

 It was dark all around him, and he’s lost. He couldn’t find the path, couldn’t find the way out, he was trapped down, down, down in the dark again, and he felt himself start to panic, because he didn’t want to be here, it was too small and too dark and too deep and he wanted OUT!

 A voice. No. Two voices, talking lowly, talking quietly, almost afraid. He knew them, he needed them, he needed them to be louder, he needed to follow them out of here. He could feel the dark swirling around him, trying to drag him back under, clogging his lungs and throat so he couldn’t scream, couldn’t breathe, and he’s going to drown-

 A hand. A hand in his. An anchor. He gripped it like a drowning man, that’s what he was, even if it’s not quite water that was filling his lungs, he used it to haul himself to the surface of the waves, used it to steady himself against the roiling of his own mind, trying to wash him away, and someone was speaking again, the voice of the universe, the planets, the stars.

 “R’man?” He slurred, blearily looking up at the hazel eyes of his brother, his twin, who was gripping his hand so tight his knuckles had turned white, then Roman let out a soft sound of despair and hope and carefully, slowly, helped him to sit up, hugging him tight. He didn’t understand why Roman suddenly cared so much, but it was nice, being hugged, so he leaned into it, let it happen, felt himself calm at the gesture, centering him.

 “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ree, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it, and I’ve been so shitty, I’ve been the worst brother, I should have stood up for you, like you always did, always do, for me, instead I pushed you away. I almost lost you. I almost lost you and the last things I said to you were horrible. I love you. I’m so sorry, Remus, I love you.” Roman’s voice was choked, and he was surprised to find his own tears falling as he buried his head against Roman’s shoulder, crying as he felt Roman softly rocking back and forth.

 “s not your fault. I’ve always been a screw up, Ro. It’s no wonder you don’t want me around, anymore.”

 “No! Remus… Remus no. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry. I want you. I want you around, I want to spend all day fighting with you over stupid shit, I want to see you come careening down the stairs in clothes not even remotely matching and march out the door to school without even brushing your hair, I want to wake up at 2am to you blaring German death metal or hanging upside down from my ceiling or… or whatever other weird shit you constantly think up, I want every moment I can possibly get with you, because I… I never thought… I can’t… I can’t lose you, Ree. What am I supposed to do, if I lose you?” Roman’s voice was small and shattered, and he pressed himself closer against his twin, huge, silent tears dripping down his face. “I never want you to leave, Remus. Never.” Roman whispered, hugging him tighter, and he ignored the spasm of pain it sent through his body, because it felt so good, in all other respects.

 “Careful, Ro, I’m almost starting to think you actually like me, or something.” He mumbled, feeling Roman let out a breathy, hiccupping laugh/sob.

 “I do. So much, Remus, I do.” Roman replied, pulling back, face a mess, tear stained and disheveled, and it looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. But there was a smile, small and fragile, on his face, and Remus couldn’t help but mirror it.

 “you promise?” He asked, voice a barely there whisper, watching Roman’s face turn serious, as he met his eyes.

 “I promise. I promise, Ree. Now. I think, you two, should talk.” Roman said, tentatively getting up, and Remus had almost forgotten there was another person in the room until Logan cleared his throat, stepping around Roman and sitting stiffly in the chair beside his bed, as Roman mouthed good luck, and vanished out the door, under the guise of getting them all something to eat, and checking in with the nurses and doctors.

 He sighed, staring back up at the white ceiling, almost afraid to meet Logan’s eyes, to look at his face, he didn’t know what to expect, and for some reason that scared him more than dying.

 “why?” Was the soft question, one he hadn’t expected, and he shifted, turning to look at Logan, who was looking down at his lap, hands creasing and uncreasing a tissue repetitively.

 “why what?” He asked, though he knew. Logan did look up then, something curious and almost angry in his eyes, though his face was unreadable.

 “Why did you push me out of the way? Why… why did you choose my life over yours?” He barely resists rolling his eyes, though he’s unable to stifle a scoff.

 “Why wouldn’t I? You… have a future. You’ve probably got colleges slitting each other’s throats to have you, professors already trying to recruit you to their programs, and most people with that opportunity I’d hate and want to strangle because they’re pretentious, pompous, loaded pricks! But… you aren’t. You’re smart. You’ve earned it. You deserve it. You… can actually do something, with your life, you will, because you don’t do anything unless it has actual effects. Because you’re brilliant, and burning with potential, and burning with kindness, and burning with curiosity and it’s like… like a light, in the shitty world we live in, when you learn something new, it lights up the cosmos, that look on your face.

You’re a star, Logan. An actual, burning, brilliant, ball of energy and light and expansion and one day you’ll explode like a supernova and make something truly, purely, incredible.

And I? I’ll just be bumming it on the streets somewhere, because that’s all I’m good at. Fucking everything up. So yeah. It wasn’t even a question of you or me, it wasn’t even a choice, I didn’t think about it, I just acted, because even if I had died, it didn’t matter. Not… not like you dying would. Not how you dying would matter, to me.” He looked away again, shame welling in his throat, hot tears slipping down his cheeks, because he always ruined everything, didn’t he?

 “remus. It would matter. If you died, it would matter.” He let out a hollow laugh, too weak to even reach up and wipe away his tears.

 “Would it? I’ve thought a lot about this, Lo. I’ve thought over how I could do it, where I could do it, when would be the best time. It’s at the bottom of my to do list, really, and I just keep finding another reason to push it off. It’s come down to the timing, truly. I don’t want it to upset anyone too badly, I don’t want it to mar an important holiday or anniversary, I don’t want to leave them to clean up my mess, but I want them to be able to find me.

Leaving a note, or maybe sending a time delayed text with my location, was my thought. Maybe jumping off one of the cliffs in the park, but I didn’t want some poor hiker to get traumatized. Maybe jumping into the sea, drowning, but then they wouldn’t have my body to bury. And it would be too messy to just cut my wrists open, then they’d have to clean up the blood, and god, won’t that be a mess? So very Me, of me, I suppose, to leave them one last work of art to scrub off the floor. One last piece no one wanted anyway, to be discarded.

They’d be sad, but they’d move on pretty fast. Too much going on to not. Roman, going to art school, my parents, barely home anyways, with how often they work, and it’s not like I’ve got any friends. Roman’s got plenty of those, plenty of people to prop him up, once I’m gone. So yeah, me dying has pretty much a null effect on the universe.”

 “Remus.” There was something oh so soft, too soft, in Logan’s voice, and he kept his head firmly turned away, unwilling to see the pity and horror and disgust in those brilliant green eyes of his. “Remus, the chances of you existing at all are infitesimal. The chances of you living in this moment, are so slim as to be nearly nonexistent. Of course, it matters, even if you think it doesn’t, even if you believe erroneously it doesn’t matter to Roman, it matters to me.” There was a desperate edge to Logan’s voice, a break to it, that cracked through his calm exterior to his frantic heart, and Remus found his head being gently turned, the soft touch not moving away as his eyes met Logan’s, round and huge behind his glasses.

 “Your art is beautiful. I never really understood it, I still don’t, but looking at it, I know how long it takes to make, I know how painstaking it is, and that’s what makes it beautiful, makes every drop of ink or brushstroke a masterpiece. You throw yourself head first into everything you do, with no second thoughts or rationality and it’s both infuriating and amazing, because I could never fully figure you out. Some days you are loud and boisterous, and almost more flirtatious than Roman, definitely more dangerous, than Roman, and others day you’re silent and still, like the moment before the lightning crashes, the second before the twister sets down, and I want nothing more than to know what exactly you’re thinking in that moment, what is about to send you over the edge, I want to know why you think you’re so worthless, when I watch you be incredible day after day, no matter what anyone else says or thinks or teases or comments, you somehow manage to just stay yourself, and I wish I knew how you did it. I wish you knew, how perfect you really, truly, are.” He didn’t protest, as Logan’s lips met his, soft and careful and tentative, only a brush, really, but when Logan went to pull back, he managed to move his arm, managed to weakly grab hold of Logan’s.

 “please. Please stay. I don’t… it’s so dark… I don’t…” He was losing it, he could tell he was, he was slipping, and the dark was so much darker now, so much deeper, and if he fell, he didn’t know how long he could stay afloat.

 “of course.” His eyes had slipped closed, but he felt Logan carefully shifting him, before slipping onto the bed beside him, and he sighed, as Logan nestled against him, his head in the crook of his shoulder, a solid, calming weight against his back, holding him close.  

 “Wha’s wrong with me, xactly?” He slurred.

 “I don’t know the full list. Punctured lung, broken ribs, broken arm, broken leg, concussion, internal organ trauma, they said… they said they nearly lost you four times total, before you stayed in stable, if severe, condition. The first time you woke, you’d been in a coma for a full week. There wasn’t anything wrong with you, necessarily, you just… wouldn’t wake up.”

 “was stuck. Was you, woke me. Reading, somthin bout space.” He smiled, feeling Logan tuck back a strand of his hair, his hand brushing gently against his cheek.

 “Lonely planet’s guide to the universe. I thought… I just… I didn’t want you to think you were alone. I wanted to give you a reason to wake up. I just didn’t know how badly you needed one.”

 “I love you.” He blurted, unceremoniously, too tired to care about the consequences, his stupid mouth always speaking without his stupid brain’s stupid permission. But if he’d kept it in one moment longer, he was sure he’d explode. The silence seemed to last forever, before he realized it was because Logan was crying, and with effort, he managed to roll himself over, so he was face to face with his star.

 “I love you.” Logan said, raw sincerity burning in his throat, as he pressed their foreheads together, as his hands rested around his waist, pulling him gently close once more, this time tucking his head down against Logan’s chest, feeling him press a soft kiss to his head. “I love you, Remus. And you very nearly didn’t give me a chance to say it.”

 “what can I say? ‘M a stupid bitch.” He mumbled, half asleep already, smiling as he felt Logan’s laugh rumbling through his chest, melting more as he felt a hand carding through his hair, one still draped across his waist, anchoring him steady against the dark.

 He’d been wrong.

 Logan wasn’t a star.

 They were both planets.

 Orbiting each other, caught in the pull of gravity, slowly being pulled closer and closer-

 Until they collided.

[frekydeki]

Oh my god! The saleos fic got me crying like a pig! The angst was so so good! But please, can you continue it and give mc and Jumin a happy ending together?😭 There must be an explaination for what Jumin did like he was drugged or drunk and thought the woman he was with was mc (which he truly loves and care)

Hohoho… I hope this satisfies you ;) Thank you for the message, it gave me a lot of motivation to write this second part!!

I’ll also hand out a warning that there is attempted sexual assault in here so please read at your own risk.

Saleos pt 2

Part 1 is here :)

Summary: Forgiveness was easy for you to give… But that night, you were having trouble figuring out how to do that for him.

Pairing: Jumin x MC Reader

His birthday, was actually the next day. Reflecting on it the next morning, you wished you hadn’t been so childish. You wanted to have something over that woman, something that put you closer to Jumin than she would get that night… And for some reason, it was that you knew his birthday and she didn’t… A stupid consolation after you thought about it. That woman had Jumin in a way that you never would. Who were you kidding, even a strange woman from a company dinner was closer to Jumin than you.

Your heart just kept breaking over and over again. 

“Hey, space captain.” You snapped your gaze to the drink that was placed into your empty hand, and trailed your eyes up to the red head grinning down at you. You hated that his smile never reached his eyes. 

“Hey.” You softly called back. You patted the seat next to you for Seven to sit down; he happily obliged. 

“What’s on your mind?” You couldn’t help the way your eyes trailed up to the man just across the room. Those onyx eyes bolted to yours, like he knew you were looking at him, and your heart crawled into your throat. You took your gaze away quickly, almost ashamed to be in love with man who was with another woman. 

“Nothing.” You squeaked.

“Oh ho ho.” Seven’s grin drifted into your line of sight, that mischievous glint in his amber gaze making you a little anxious. “Lover’s quarrel?” Giddiness broke out in a grin on your own lips, and you lashed out to smack his arm playfully with a loud giggle. Before realization dawned on you; you aren’t lovers. 

“No…” You cleared your throat, “Nope. Nothings wrong.” You were back peddling quickly, trying to get away from that conversation. The red head next to you placed his hand to your hair and ruffled it quickly; you couldn’t get mad, you didn’t have your hair in an updo with any pretty pearls or anything. You just combed your hair and left… You didn’t have the energy to do anything else. Not that it would’ve mattered, you looked nothing like that woman from last night.

“Ah. I see.” The air was thick between the two of you. You were still trying to lick your wounds like a hurt puppy, and Seven was definitely trying to scheme a way to put that spark back into your eye. 

“Hey… I think I’m gonna turn in for tonight. I’ve got a lot of homework to finish up.”

“So soon? It’s not too often that we all get together like this, ya know?” Seven’s voice was unusually soft. You shot him an unsure smile. You knew you didn’t get the chance to see everyone like that often, but you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You’ve caught his eye so many times throughout the night, and each time you thought you were going to collapse from a heart attack. You nodded again, ignoring that your head was starting to spin because of the alcohol. You sat your drink down lightly.

“Yeah… I think it’s time I turn in.” You concluded. Standing, you tried to hide how unbalanced you were; you weren’t too drunk but… maybe you should’ve been a little more sober while walking home alone. When you met Jumin’s gaze, however, you just knew it didn’t matter. You didn’t even want to talk to him. You were pulling away from the man you loved in every way possible. “Night Seven.”

“Do you want me to walk you back?”

“No it’s okay… I’m close to here so it shouldn’t be too awful.”

You should’ve really taken Seven up on his offer now that you think about it. Now that your in the empty streets, alone, and slightly drunk, you’re realizing a lot of things you shouldn’t have done. You shouldn’t have been so damn emotional about something that’s none of your damn business. Since last night you’ve been plagued with regrets, and right now, letting your emotions get the best of you is the biggest one. Because you know you’re being followed, and the only thing you can think of doing is call Jumin. But before he answers, there’s a hand on your wrist, yanking your phone away from you.

“Please stop.” You breathlessly whine as you try and take your hand from the harsh grip on your wrist. You aren’t too drunk to understand what the men mean when they laugh about taking you home. But your world is swaying and it’s getting harder for you to try and keep them away from you. You stumble back against the chest of one of the men, and his arm reaches around you and latches onto your breast. Terror squeezes your breath from you and you stare widely down at that hand. Your arms and legs are going numb. A whimper comes from you as you begin to feel entirely powerless, like a wounded dough being circled by vultures. 

A hand pushes your eyes up to stare into brown eyes, his mouth trembling just above your own. No. You don’t want anyone but Jumin to kiss you. 

“Don’t.” You wheeze, trying to get yourself loose from his grip on your jaw. “Stop.” You demand. 

“You know what they say boys…” One shouts with a crooked grin, “When a woman says no, she actually means yes.” You gasp loudly when he slams his lips atop yours, and pries his tongue into your mouth. You want to vomit. You don’t think much about anything except getting that leech off of you, so you kick him as hard as you can in the shin. When he stumbles away with a loud yell, you throw your head back, hitting the other one in the mouth. 

You make a run for it, a drunken, stupid run for it. You don’t register the pain of being pulled back by your hair, until you’re staring into the raging eyes of one of the men; his breath comes through a clenched jaw.

“You’re really going to regret that.” A tear runs down your cheek, and for some reason you’re begging Jumin to follow you. Just for once, you wish he’d do a little more than call. You feel the sting and ache on your jaw before you realize that you were punched and on the ground. How many men is there? You only remember three at first, but now theres… Seven? No… You’re seeing stars as your struggling against the sleeze crawling on top of you.

“Stop.” You weakly cry. And just like that, his weight is gone from on top of you. A hand yanks you up, “Stop, stop, stop, stop!” You cry against their grip.

“MC! MC, it’s me!” You know that voice. You turn your eyes up to those onyx eyes that you know so well.

“Jumin.” You whine, your mouth contorting into a loud sob. You’re glued to his chest in seconds, refusing to let go, and it almost feels like he doesn’t want to let you go either. His arms are tightly looped around you, pulling you closer - like you couldn’t get close enough - and reminding you that you’ll be just fine. You relax a little, inhaling his cologne; his embrace feels so safe. 

So why does her red hair flick into your vision? Why do you remember that not even twenty four hours ago this man was holding another woman like this? Why do you remember this now? And why is it enough to have you pulling away from him slowly, your eyes dulled and lips pulled down in a frown. The pinch in your cheek and mouth was easy to ignore compared to the burning in your stomach. 

“I want… to go shower.” You whisper to him. You feel disgusting. Inside and out. Outside you’ve been violated by a stranger, inside you’ve been violated by the man closet to your heart. You think you want to burn it all off with a hot shower.

“MC, you shouldn’t be alone.” Jumin gently advises. You shake your head; he’s right. He’s so right it pisses you off. You cast your gaze up to his slack features and nod curtly.

“Then you’ll stay with me?” You watch his mouth part slightly and a red hue takes place on his cheeks. No… Because he has another woman waiting for him… A bitter smile washes over your lips and before you can think about it, your resentment pours from your lips, “That woman… You’re going to meet her again tonight?” He raises his brow and tilts his head.

“I have no such plans.” He nods and places his hand to your lower back. “I will stay with you.”

“We’ll take care of these three, you make sure MC is safe.” Seven calls as he waves you both off. Zen stops his raging around the men to give you a thumbs up and a grin with bloodied knuckles. V, his hands clenched onto the shoulders of the men so tightly his knuckles are white, smiles at you gently.

“Yeah, you rest easy! And drink some water, too.” Yoosung chimes with tears on his cheeks; he’s ever the emotional drinker. Jumin pushes you toward your apartment building and into your own quickly and without a word. He stops just inside the door, looking at the small room, all the pictures of the RFA displayed around.

You stop next to him and stare hardly at your wood floors. 

“MC, are you troubled by the event that transpired last night?” Your tongue gets knotted as you look widely up at him. In shame you look down to your tangling hands. 

“No.” It’s a whisper, a cracking whisper.

“You’ve been distant with me, MC. I wish you would tell me what’s troubling you.” 

“Nothings troubling me.”

“Why are you crying, then?” 

“I’m really shaken.”

“Then why haven’t you spoken to me all day?”

“Because-” you’re jealous. Because you really are troubled by what happened last night. 

“MC,” His hand grazes your cheek gently, and he puts himself in front of you, “What is wrong?” You selfishly indulge in how wonderful his touch his, how gentle; he was like this with that woman last night.

“You were gentle with her like this too? Right?” You clench your jaw, unable to help seeing them together. You put your eyes back down, looking at the scuff mark on Jumin’s expensive shoes; it’s probably from kicking that man off of you. “You know, I’ll be okay alone tonight. I’ve sobered up a lot and I just want to -”

“I was unaware that you… Would be hurt by my being with someone.” You shut your eyes at his words… Like he’s confirming it. “Had I known I would not have brought her home.” No. In reality, you have nothing to do with it. You just need some time.

“I just need some time… To process everything and understand my… My feelings.” You mumble up to him.

“Why do you always shut me out?” He huffs down to you. “When we met, you encouraged me to express myself, to understand and embrace my emotions. Why do you always back away from me when it becomes too much MC?” His breaths are becoming heavier, his eyes even more irritated. “Is it because I am too much to handle? Am I not trustworthy to hear your worries? Am I not enough for you?”

“What? No, that’s-”

“Then what is it? MC?” Your calm and collected Jumin is gone, all his logic has flown out the window. Right now, you’re wondering who’s been wrecked with more emotion. “You call Yoosung over every little thing. You tell him good morning, and cry to him, and express everything to him that you cannot to me. What does he have that I do not?” You stare widely up at him, tears freely coursing down your cheeks.

“Why are you turning this back on me?” You lightly whisper. “Why are you acting like I’m the one who brought a stranger home, reeking with their cologne and letting them shove their tongue down my throat? I’m not the one who did that! You did, Jumin! You brought some woman home and had the audacity to act like you cared when you saw that it hurt me!” At this point, your sobbing and pressing your finger to his chest, like it was going to dig down into his heart and hurt him as much as he hurt you. 

“And I have only ever been true to you. I have only ever been open and honest to you. I’ve only ever seen you Jumin! How dare you try and pin this on me!”

“You don’t understand what I’m saying, MC.”

“No, I don’t Jumin. I don’t understand what you’re trying to say at all. What could you possibly be trying to t-”

“I’m jealous, dammit! I’m jealous that you always go to Yoosung. I’m jealous that you let him touch you so freely, that you spend so much time with him, that you laugh with him; I hate that he is so much closer to you than I am.” You clench your jaw. Your heart softens only a little for him, but you can’t forget that he was with another woman just last night. 

“Imagine if you knew I had sex with him.” Jumin’s eyes light dangerously and he flicks them to yours.

“What do you mean to say, MC?” His voice was low, but you could see how scared he is of your answer.

“If you knew that Yoosung knew me so intimately, you’d feel just as terrible as I do right now. Because I know you had sex with that woman. I know that she knows you in ways I never will.” You both stare at each other in silence. One sobbing uncontrollably, and the other refusing to let the tears spill over. You cover your eyes with trembling hands, ignoring that Jumin falls to his knees and takes your free hand into his own.

“How…” Your weak voice shatters, your quaking hands running to cover your quivering, chapped and chewed up lips. Inhaling a deep breath - the air feeling so much harder to pull in through your swollen throat - you continue to question the red eyes of the man on his knees in front of you, “Did we end up like this, Jumin?” 

All your memories are bright with him. Only twenty four hours ago you were head over heels for him, you couldn’t get enough of him. He put you on cloud nine, made you forget all of your woes… But now, he’s hurt you so much and it wasn’t even deliberate. It terrifies you thinking about just how terrible it would be if Jumin went out of his way to hurt you.

“MC… I want… That dinner, I had too much to drink. That woman was feeding into my every desire, physical touch, excitement… The desires I have long had buried. She was only half as beautiful as you, and everything I did was consumed by thoughts of you.”

“Jumin…” You don’t want to hear a play by play of his night with her… You don’t want to hear anything.

“Please, I’d like to say this. When you saw me with her, I was - I am - filled with such a sense of dread, of shame, that I just simply couldn’t continue. Once I ensured that you were okay and safe at your apartment, I sent that woman home.” His pushes his eyes back up to your own, “I did not have any relation with that woman, MC.” 

What?

“With that being clarified, I want to say that I am completely, hopelessly in love with you. There is no other woman I could possibly be with, and I understand that very well now.” He presses his lips to your knuckles and continues, “Please don’t pull any further away from me, MC.”

Wh… what?

“So… Wait…” Suddenly, you can’t hug him fast enough. “I love you too.” You bury your face into his shoulder and quickly, frantically say, “That’s why I went to see you last night… Because I wanted to confess to you and-” You sound terrible when you talk and cry but you don’t think Jumin cares. He simply pulls you closer to him, and smiles widely. 

Gosh… It really was your Jumin with that woman last night.

[imagine-loki]

Sweet Pea

TITLE: Sweet Pea CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One Shot AUTHOR: marvelgirlonamarvelworld (sideblog) ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki taking care of his girl during her period. He’s super attentive,  comforting her and doing everything possible to ease the ache and discomfort. 

RATING: T+ NOTES/WARNINGS: FLUFF, period fluff, some language, angst (if you squint super super hard).

A/N2: So this was a request. Thought I’d also share it here :) Thank you for reading!

-

The tower was silent. Pleasantly mute and was only disturbed by the distant echoes of leather soles striding mightily against the tiles.

The rays of midday crept through the floor to ceiling windows as the slender figure swaggered down the hallway. The green pine cape, fastened by the golden engraved shoulder blades, swayed to and forth; already foretelling royalty was amongst them all. 

Promptly his strides came to halt, and a shimmer of light formed between his palms. With petals as white as purity and as bright as her soul, the trickster couldn’t help but sigh and continue to smile. A large bouquet of flowers lay carefully cradled on his grasp, while a dreamy teenage smile softly formed on his face. 

Sweet peas. Her favourites.

Loki was anxious, delighted and dazzled to have finally arrived. To come back to her, after weeks seeming like years on a mission gone sideways at the last minute. It had all been wrapped up in day five; however, somebody, whose seldom could not possibly fit in the tower itself, had forgotten to secure the perimeter and bug all enemy radio frequencies. But that was a tale for another time.

There were other matters at hand; to come back to her arms as promised a handful weeks back.

Stealthily the door was pushed ajar…

Darkness engulfed it all. Only shadows cast by the outer lights formed and danced as Loki tiptoed inside; already glimpsing a lump hidden beneath a gray ocean of plush blankets; already discerning and savoring the bitter tang of sickness and ache dancing around.

It amused him to see her asleep. It didn’t seem right, it was midday after all. Something was quite off. Yet Loki was unable to determine with certainty what it was aside from the latter.

The edge of the queen bed shifted and dipped under his weight as the loving-foolish grin never diminished. The delicate floral array remained in his sweaty left palm as he pulled the blanket slightly to the side. And Loki was greeted by a low-pitched mewl and throaty groan.

An airy chuckle escaped his mouth and rested his palm on her hip bone. He could discern her figure curled tight against the pillows, head buried beneath, and limbs tangled between the sheets.

“Loki?” Her call was a murmur, sleepy, anguished, and muffled against the plush feathered thing. Through the shadows, the peeking silhouette of her face met his gaze while his hand rested on her hip. He was unable, however, to notice the faint glimmer and damp streaks on her cheeks, as well as the soft tremble of her lips or the incessant desperation deep within. “Is that…you?”

Her figure eased under his morphine touch and turned to him, craving for more; wanting to feel his magic radiating from his fingertips, desperately seeking to make the pain ease away. 

“Yes,” he responded while imagining her sleepy features now hidden by the dark. “If it wasn’t for Stark I would’ve returned to you sooner as I had promised, darling. Please believe me when I say I will make it up to you, love.”

His voice brought her taxing mind some comfort, distracted her from the ache; the incessant pulses and stings as if her insides were being twisted and needle pinched, as if her back had been replaced by large spikes digging at her insides. Rapidly she swallowed the sudden lump, already feeling tears welling and threatening to spill flush. Damn hormones had her in a wreck; got her craving his sweetness just as much as it infuriated her. She was a mess, good thing he couldn’t see it yet.

“Good thing you’re here now,” her voice was a mere uneven whisper before hugging the pillow flush and in the process…coiling away from his numbing touch. The room was so cold, it only made the pain worse. “I missed you…so much.”

The smile which once was was no more upon hearing her message travel through the void. If it hadn’t been for his enhanced audition Loki would’ve completely missed it. He knew all too well that tone. Something was wrong.

Just as fast the bouquet of blooms was placed on the nightstand and the dim yellow light from their night lamp flickered to life. His face was an anxious grimace as his eyes scanned her figure, noticing her body slightly shiver and her cheek glisten.

“Darling? Are you alright?” He asked, gazing to the barely visible girl buried beneath pillows and blankets. “You’re shaking like a leaf!”

A groan was her only response. The cramps and back pain were too much to bear, drained her energy away. She had not the strength to muster anything but unintelligible gibber against the pillow.

“Love,” Loki uncovered her body and inclined closer, his hands desperately seeking to cradle her face. “You’re worrying me, speak to me,“ with no effort Loki sat her body, her back resting against two pillows, and his lips met her crown. “What is the matter? Have you fallen ill?”

“I don’t know,” her cheeks flamed. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his chest. The sensation of her insides being twisted and the shame impeded her to tell; although his coos and gentleness made her heart swell. She felt like crying again. “I guess, I just don’t feel so well today, that’s all. I’ll be fine.”

Loki closed his eyes and sighed, his hands gently stroked through her hair as frustration seeped through his veins. Her reasoning was nothing but a chain of little half-truths and half-lies. It anguished his heart to see her in such a way.

“Please do not lie to me darling,” Loki implored and cupped her cheeks again. Her puffy eyes were fogged, glazed and overwhelmed. And Loki couldn’t help but kiss away the trails of tears before stroking her nose with his. “Speak to me. It mars me to see you suffering. Let me help you.”

Her lips turned to a pout. She appreciated his caring but his insistence was more than annoying. She’d rather drown in her own suffering just as much as she’d love to have him spoil her…again the stupid fling of emotions. Truth be told, as she looked into his worried eyes, she had no clue what she wanted at all.

“It hurts,” she mumbled and continued to pout before burying his face in the comfort of his chest; shielding her telling eyes from his scrupulous stare. “It hurts so much.”

“What hurts, love?” Loki urged her to go on, already searching through his memory for every single healing and protecting spell to make all her ills disappear for eternity. “Speak to me.”

“Everything,” she rasped. “My back, my stomach…these cramps are too much. I feel like I’m bearing the fucking antichrist!” she cried out. “I’m tired, and I want ice cream, and I wanna sleep without pain just for one night!”

Loki fell silent for a never-ending minute. He was unable to find words fitting to solace her woes. He had nothing but a vague idea of the meaning behind her cry out, all thanks to unintentionally listening to her and the red-head assassin converse about it as he passed by the lounge once; however, seeking a much detailed explanation of it seemed unfit in her frail state. And leaving her while he searched for the red-head was out of the question. 

“Aw, darling,” Loki pulled her aching body and cradled her on his lap. Gentle kisses were peppered all about, stealing some giggles and smiles from her mouth. He’d at least made her smile. “How bad?”

She growled against his chest. Her patience was running thin with his unnecessary questioning. “How bad did it hurt when you apparently tied your testicles to that goat to amuse a giantess, hm?”

Touché. 

Loki pursed his trembling lips, trying his hardest not to laugh at her call out but failing miserably thus chuckling wholeheartedly. Her angry fit was quite humorous to him, somewhat endearing. Though as much as the desire to disprove such unsettling tale nagged him to the bone, he refrained from such. For an idea loomed in the corners of his memory, a way to make it all better, something he knew with all certainty would please her.

Securing her body in his hold, the tricksters stood up and carried the girl across the room where a closed white door stood.

“Loki what are you doing?” Her arms draped around his neck and peeked to his face. Flickers of adoration and tenderness danced in his eyes as well as in his one-sided smile. “Where are we going?”

“I am tending to the needs of my queen,” he surmised as the door opened on its own, just as the white lights blinked in contrast to the dark. Crescendos of his strides ricocheted against the tiled walls and ceased after a brief stance. “I have learned a warm bath works wonders to ease away the pain.” 

Loki gently sat her on the counter before turning his attention to the already filled bathtub. A mixture of herbal and floral scents emanated from it, filling the white-tiled room from corner to corner, and drawing ecstatic sighs from her mouth just as it enticed her hormones to act out.

Her eyes were drawn back to the trickster prince as a shimmer of light formed in his hand before fading just as fast. Her hands covered her mouth while the tears made themselves present again, and this time she allowed them to spill. For between his thumb and index was a heartfelt offering, a single white flower. 

She took the little blossom before throwing her arms around him and burying her face in the crook of his neck. “Oh, Loki…Thank you.”

“Anything for you my dearest,” he confessed, gently caressing her back and momentarily losing himself in the tropical scent of her hair. “Anything,” he repeated again, before undoing the embrace and proceeding to offer to undress her. For he was unsure if she’d be comfortable with it given the situation. Though as for him, his love for her outweighed anything and everything. Loki was willing to do everything for her, no matter what it was.

“You don’t…you don’t have to. I…I can manage…” she squeaked while gazing down to the flower resting on her palm. She wished him to stay, but it was messy, too messy, not to mention the bloating, and that is what frightened her; his reaction, what he’d say or rather think. “It’s just…a a lot of blood and that is really,” she chuckled nervously, “it’s not pretty. I’m not pretty…like this.”

In all honesty, who is ever looking their prettiest when the time of the month comes? Nobody.

“Darling,” Loki cupped her cheek, “I have been by your side long enough to know, that there is nothing at all in the realms, that would incite me to see you with any lesser idolatry and beauty.” Never in the time that had passed had Loki ever developed the courage to confess how great his love was for her until now. “Blood is nothing but stardust coursing through your body. And it is more than normal what you’re going through now. Seeing you as you are will make love you no lesser than I loved you yesterday. I will only love you more than I did then.”

There were no words to be said, only tears and a smile which spoke times ten. His declaration had stolen her breath, quieted say. She wanted to say ‘I love you’ but… one can only say those words so many times before such deep-seated message expanded and turned into something bigger, something impossible to express in such short sentence. It would not encase even a third of it.

With a kiss to her forehead, Loki carried her body bridal-style to the tub, though not before dissipating all her clothes, and lowered her to the warm scented pool. Pale pink foam floated and covered her to the shoulder as she laid back and closed her eyes. 

This was indeed heaven. 

The concoction he’d created, with multiple herbs and flowers, was a secret remedy taught by mother; great to ease the body, though, never once had he imagined it’d ever come in handy. And as he sat at the edge, massaging her shoulders and bathing her, the ethereal prince made a mental note to thank the Allmother for her teachings. 

Loki continued on to massage her scalp before conjuring a fine silver bowl to use and wash away the remnants of soap with clean water. “Feeling better?”

“Much better,” she yawned and smiled. Good thing the bath session was over.

“Come, love,” Loki urged her to stand and covered her body with a towel before carrying her back. “I presume you’d like to wear one of those Midgardian shirts I do not use.”

She hummed in agreement. “This time I can manage.”

“Very well, dear,” he glanced down to her puffy eyes as he approached the other side of the room where another door stood. Loki placed her back on her feet and allowed her to venture into the closet while he patiently waited. “As you wish.”

Leather boots to the side and armor no longer on his body, except for his comfortable cotton Asgardian clothing, Loki patiently idled for her reappearance. He allowed his eyes to wander but were quickly drawn back upon hearing the door click. And that dreamy teenage smile that’d withered before, resurfaced again as she walked out with his shirt and a pair of baggy sweats.

The soft smile of her face made his knees almost give in as he stood before her. Right away he pulled her body flush to his. “I missed you too, darling. So so so much…”

  He’d forgotten to say it back. It’d been so long, and to finally be home and have her in his arms was more than amazing. It was heaven.

Loki undid their embrace and rapidly kissed her lips. He’d almost forgotten how tender and fitting they were to him. “come on, love,” he stepped away, the flavor of her lips lingering as he directed her to bed. “You need to rest.”

“Only if you stay with me,” she said, sitting on the mattress. 

“I have no desire to leave you.”

Back in bed, beneath comfortable plush and fluffy pillows. Loki sat on a chair while his hand remained entwined with hers. A physical assurance while patiently waiting for slumber to take her from him. For this time the pain was lesser, almost nonexistent, a discomfort slowly turning to nothing but a memory. And only with her placidly resting would he be able to feel his heart settling back in his rib cage, would feel his breath return to his chest.

With her head against the plush feathered thing, her eyes lazily wandered to the nightstand where a delicate garland of sweetly scented flowers laid forgotten. They were her favorites.

“What it is, dear? Is the pain not ceasing?”

“They’re beautiful,” her eyes never drifted from the flowers.

Loki followed the trail of her glare and reached for the bouquet and offered it to her, his cheeks turned to a warm blush. “I’d forgotten I brought these,” his free hand lightly scratched the back of his head before chuckling and averting her gaze. “Sweet peas, your favourites as I recall.”

Their hands parted and grasped the floral array. The sweet scent emanating from them made a tear roll down her cheek, made her heart jump and swell against her rib cage. Gosh was his awful sweetness getting the best of her. 

It even surfaced the twisted idea it all was a dream. It rattled her soul to even imagine the possibility. This all was too good to be true.

Sitting upright, her arms desperately sought the trickster. This was very much real. And once again, their lips danced together while the saltiness of astray tears slipped through and danced between them. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, their foreheads rested against one another’s. “Thank you for all of this. I have no idea what I did to deserve you…thank you.”

“Anything for you, darling.” He stated with a smile before urging her to lay back. “Anything to see that smile never fade from you, dear.”

Just as the pain was a distant reminder, so was the once heavy atmosphere as well. For now swayed the sweet richest hints of green and touches spicy floral tenderness while the prince sat there, contemplating her lashes flutter until slumber overcame her body.

  “Anything for my sweet pea.”

[bandrbear]

To Protect the Ones You Love - Chapter 4

Diana was feeling good. She was still a little sore and had a slight limp, but she was allowed to walk around without having to roll around in that infernal chair. She stretched for good measure and groaned softly, working out her soreness. Another reason she was feeling good today was Akko finally got released from the infirmary today. The nurse had told Akko, or rather scolded her when she tried magic right after being told no magic for a few days. Diana shook her head and smiled softly at the thought of Akko doing something so reckless, yet something so Akko. 

Diana got ready for the day, even though it was the weekend she dressed in her school uniform. She brushed her hair with her new comb, making sure her hair was perfect for her visit with Akko in an hour. She smiled at herself in the mirror and steeled her anxious nerves. She wanted to tell Akko how she felt, she was confident Akko would understand and maybe even like the thought. She had a lot of time to think after their really embarrassing talks that got interrupted by Amanda, Hannah and Barbara. Akko seemed happy to be with her, and the other girls never teased them like this before. They must know something so Diana was going to shoot her shot and hope it doesn't crush their relationship into oblivion, leaving her world dark and lifeless, but it's fine. Akko will not push her away. Hopefully. Her confidence wavering the closer she got to seeing Akko.

Diana walks down the halls with her head held high and a faint smile on her lips. She looks out on the tarnished courtyard and feels a shiver go down her spine. She stops and looks around, trying to figure out why she got the chills. She stared long and hard at a deep shadow along the edge of the building nearby. She thinks she sees movement and cautiously puts her hand on her wand, narrowing her eyes at the dark spot. Nothing moves as she stares so Diana casts an illumination spell, sending it over to find nothing, just a spot deep in shadow. Diana frowns and puts her wand back. She turns on her heels and continues walking towards Akko’s room, the pep in her step returning. 

Behind her the shadows ripple and shift before becoming still once more. Two eyes open within the darkness to watch the blonde hair recede back into the building. The eyes blink and disappear, the shadows shift once more before stilling. 

Diana nears Akko’s dorm room and hears a loud, animated voice complaining on the other side. It sounded like the person talking was upset about being unable to use magic. Of course Akko would be loudly complaining to her roommates. Diana shakes her head and smiles softly. “Oh Akko,” she breathes out. She raises her fist, knocks curtly on the door and takes a step back, listening to the loud voice quiet and loud footfalls quickly near the door. Akko’s door creaks open and her head pops out of the crack.

“Oh hi Diana! I’m almost ready. Be out in a sec.” Akko disappears back into the room and makes a racket of finishing changing before she exits her room, waving at her relieved roommates.  Akko was wearing a cute red t-shirt with a puppy smiling on it and a grey skirt that was just as short as her others. She was still wearing her red sash around her slim waist. Diana takes in everything she can before Akko speaks, “I’m glad you wanted to hang out today. It’ll be fun to get out after being stuck in that stupid bed so much.”

Diana laughs softly. “I thought you loved staying in bed all day. At least you seem to when you sleep through class.” Diana teases, smirking as Akko’s smile falls to a look of disbelief and shock.

“Diannaaaa.” Akko whines, a cute pout forming. She couldn’t believe Diana was teasing her now just like all her other friends. Akko pouts more at Diana, giving her big, red puppy dog eyes and a really stuck out lower lip, using all her charm to make Diana feel bad. Diana’s heart melts at the sight, making her stomach drop. Her smile fades and she starts to feel really bad, Akko’s guilt tripping look destroying her heart. 

“I-I’m sorry Akko. I was only teasing.” She replies softly, her eyes falling to her feet. Akko’s eyes widen as she realizes her pout worked a little too well on the heiress. 

“Oh no Diana. I-It’s ok. I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just like that you are the only one who doesn’t normally tease me.” Akko says softly, her eyes falling to the floor as well. Akko shifts shyly, annoyed with herself for taking things too far with her crush, making her feel guilty.

Diana’s heart drops upon hearing Akko’s words. She quickly moves forward and pulls Akko into a tight embrace. Akko yelps softly, surprised by the hug, but quickly melts into the warmth of the embrace. She puts her head into the crook of Diana’s neck and sighs, squeezing Diana tightly and tickling Diana’s neck with her hot breath. Diana closes her eyes and enjoys the warmth of Akko against her. Diana’s arms tighten around Akko’s waist, pulling her firmly against herself. They both stay like that, ignoring the plain as day public display of affection in the hallway to just enjoy each others touch for a moment.

Diana slowly lets Akko go, not forcing her out of the embrace, but letting it end naturally. “I’m sorry Akko, for making you upset. I promise to keep my teasing to a minimum. Just know I do it because I love you...” Diana’s face flushes incredibly red as her eyes widen and she stares at a shocked Akko. That was not how she planned this happening. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN! Her heart starts to beat fast enough she was sure Akko could hear it too. Diana’s mind was racing and it made a split second decision before Akko could react, she had planned to confess, just not like this. She had to make a statement. Diana leans in and pecks Akko’s lips. She pulls back and looks surprised at an even more shocked Akko. Diana waits for what feels like forever for an answer, but one never comes. Her nerves get the best of her, so Diana turns and sprints off, her heart broken that Akko wouldn’t say anything to her.

Akko stands completely stunned for a whole two seconds after Diana kissed her before Diana took off, leaving her in a daze of excitement, confusion, and mind numbing happiness. She barely registers Diana’s way too hasty exit as her mind spins and she melts down inside. She falls on her butt and stares off at the fleeting mint-blonde hair bouncing away, her head cocked to the side. ‘I can’t believe she said she loved me. I CANNOT BELIEVE SHE KISSED ME. BY THE NINE THIS IS THE BEST GODDAMN DAY EVER.’ Akko screams in her head while smiling at the blurry hallway. All this excitement was making her dizzy and useless as she sat on the cold stone floor. 

After a few moments a finger taps Akko’s shoulder as she sits on the floor with a stupid grin plastered to her face. Akko slowly turns her head to look up at the blurry and dark shape leaning over her. “Hello,” Akko says with her stupid grin.

The figure giggles, which makes Akko feel uneasy. That giggle didn’t sit right with her. “That was so adorable.” The figure says with a sickly sweet voice. “Too bad she ran off before she could see your reaction. And to think that’ll be the last thing she remembers about you.” The sickly sweet voice said with such a cheery and happy tone, as if she didn’t just say such ominous things. Akko opens her mouth to say something to the dark figure, but before she can move she crumples to the floor, her vision slowly fading to black, that awfully sweet giggle echoing in her ears.

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Diana runs as fast as she could towards the outside world. Her heart pounds painfully in her chest as her feet pound down the halls she knows she shouldn’t be running down. How could she think Akko would love her back. Why the hell did she kiss her?! Akko certainly would never talk to her again after that. By the nine, Diana was furious at herself and devastated at losing Akko forever. Diana runs outside and keeps going towards the outside of the library to hide in the bushes. She pushes her way through the branches until her hands collide with the walls of the school. Diana breathes heavily and squeezes her eyes shut. She sinks to her knees and rests her forehead against the cold stone. She feels herself sink into the soft dirt and she lets out a deep sob. Diana crumples in on herself and begins to cry softly into her hands. How could she be so stupid to lose Akko, the light of her life. Diana punches the dirt angrily, sinking her fists into the soft dirt repeatedly. She cries, releasing all the pent up emotions within, letting her raw emotions out. It felt good to release them, instead of keeping them pent up and hidden away. After a little she begins to try and collect herself. 

Diana takes a deep and ragged breath before sitting up straight and looking at the stone wall in front of her. She places her hands against the cold stone and traces the cracks and the mortar between stones. She takes a few more deep breaths and calms her nerves. Diana pulled her hands from the wall and began to run her palms down her thighs, kneading her flesh and closing her eyes once more. Akko couldn’t possibly hate her that much. They would never be the same, but Diana had to make the most of it and maybe, just maybe she could be Akko’s friend again. Diana reaches her knees with her palms, her fingers curling over her knee caps before her nails are dragged back up her pale thighs. Diana opens her eyes and nods at the wall before slowly standing, brushing the dirt from her shins. Diana slowly made her way out of the bushes, hoping no one would notice her messy hair and red, puffy eyes. She rubbed her thighs anxiously as she thought about her next steps, what would she do now that her relationship with Akko was tainted and possibly ruined forever. Diana shakes her head and starts walking back the way she came, to find Akko and apologize for her rash and stupid feelings, especially for how she acted them out.

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Constanze was in her workshop working on her battle mech when the alarm went off. She jumped out from behind her mech and ran to Stanbot, who was jumping up and down, waving its arms and pointing to a screen. Constanze’s eyes widen as she sees Akko being dragged rather crudely across the school grounds and into the forest. A dark shape that resembled a girl dragged Akko by her forearm, the rest of Akko was spread eagle out behind her on the ground, Akko’s head lolling around and drooling. 

As the figure disappears into the trees with Akko in tow Constanze jumps up and hits a big red button. She gathers her go bag and motions at Stanbot to get the mech up and ready outside for her.

Constanze rockets out from her workshop through the bed entrance, surprising Amada who jumps and almost falls over off her own bed. “What the hell Constanze! First some thingy on my desk started yelling at me then you come flying up here like a bat out of hell. What’s going on?” Amanda looks on at Constanze as she gestures wildly in response. Amanda looks at her in confusion. “WHAT?” Constanze growls and grabs a piece of paper and quickly scrawls out a basic message just for Amanda, ‘Akko danger hurry now,’ before thrusting it against Amanda’s chest and running out of the room. Amanda quickly reads the message and jumps off of her bed, grabs her wand, and runs to gather their friends. They needed to act fast. 

Amanda rushes to the red teams dorm to grab Sucy and Lotte before barreling to the blue team’s dorm to grab Hannah and Barbara. Luckily they run into Jasminka returning from a study session at the library and grab her too. With most of the team together the girls rush outside to find Constanze finalizing her suit up process. Her mech stands up with her inside and points to the forest where she saw Akko getting taken. The mech deploys brooms for all the girls present and they all take off, desperate to find Akko before it is too late.

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Diana walks briskly on the other side of the school back towards Akko’s dorm. She nervously tugged down on her skirt hem, trying to keep it together, doing all she could to not run away and hide again. After a surprisingly long walk back to Akko’s dorm, Diana steeled herself and knocked on the heavy wood door. She waited a minute and with no response she tried once more, knocking firmly against the thick wood. Diana began to feel dread build up within her as Akko failed to answer the door. Either she wasn't there and had run off too, or she really didn’t want anything to do with Diana, which hurt Diana’s heart immensely to even think about. Diana slowly turned on her heel and walked briskly away, Akko had to have run off somewhere. It was up to Diana to find her and try her best to fix things. Akko loves to sit up on the tower’s ledge and dangle her feet over the edge and she likes to sneak off to the north building of the school. Diana would start with those two places first, then maybe check the bench in the park where she found Akko after her heart was broken by Shiny Chariot. Hopefully Akko hadn’t been that broken by Diana’s accidental confession. 

Diana starts with the tower, walking up all the stairs like Akko typically does. She huffs and puffs as she finally reaches the top. She looks around to find the area empty and devoid of Akko. It felt chilly and lonely without Akko beside her up there. Diana shivered even though it was rather warm out and began the long journey back down the stairs. As she exits the tower she looks up and closes her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face for a moment before heading towards the off limits north building. Diana fiddles with her blue sash as she made her way across the green grounds that were now filled with potholes and rubble. Her hand shook softly as she neared the building and its ruins. She hadn’t really thought about what she planned on saying to Akko when she finally found the girl. She knew she should apologize at least and hope that she will be able to stay Akko’s friend, or at least be able to become Akko’s friend once again, eventually. 

Diana carefully made her way through the ruins, looking in every possible hiding spot for the keeper of her heart. After a good thirty minutes of careful searching she came up empty handed. Almost defeated, Diana makes her way out of the ruins and back to her dorm. She collects her broom and looks at the messy coffee table. She frowned and wondered why Hannah and Barbara would leave it in such a mess. Diana shook her head and made her way out into the hallway. She didn’t have time to worry about her teammates leaving a mess and disappearing. She needed to find Akko as soon as possible.

Diana makes her way outside and mounts her broom. She flies to the terminal and makes her way to town. After a short trip Diana dismounts her broom and makes her way down to town and the hidden away park bench where Akko had to be. Diana looks around while she strides through town, watching happy couples hold hands, sit together sharing some ice cream, and be happy with one another. It makes her heart sink when she thinks about how she made Akko feel, she didn’t want Akko to feel bad, she just wanted someone to feel happy with, to hold hands with, to share an ice cream. Diana sighs deeply and lets her head hang low as she nears her love’s location. Diana rounds the corner of bushes and begins to speak to Akko before looking up and finding an empty bench, void of the light she needed in her life. Diana walks up to the bench and collapses into it. Maybe she didn’t really know Akko after all. Maybe she didn’t deserve Akko in her life after all.

Just as Diana hits an all time low since her mother died, she feels her wand buzz. Diana frowns and looks at it. Diana cocks her head at it before the metal stick shot out a thin stream of magic that quickly turned into an urgent message. ‘Akko has been taken. Hurry to the forest, south of the school.’ Diana’s eyes widen in fear. All this time she was searching and crying pathetically all the while Akko had been kidnapped. Diana literally kicks herself and mounts her broom to head back to campus. She needed to save Akko. Then she could face her feelings and Akko’s.

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Amanda, Constaze, Jasminka, Lotte, Sucy, Hannah, and Barbara search the forest as thoroughly as possible. The girls scour the woods in the direction Akko was seen being dragged. Constanze searches the ground in her mech, scanning for footsteps and Akko shaped drag marks. The others fly in a back and forth pattern looking for clues. Constanze is barely able to keep track of the drag marks and they follow the faint trail deeper into the woods.

“Hey where is the princess?” Amanda calls out to Hannah and Barbara. 

“She went to visit with Akko as far as we know. Did she get taken too?” Hannah says, her voice squeaking as a greater panic begins to set in. If this wasn't an extremely serious situation Amanda would have enjoyed that adorable squeak that came from Hannah. 

“Why don’t you try and contact her before assuming the worst. And Constanze only saw Akko being dragged away. No Diana.” Amanda calls out, her eyes staying on the forest below, hoping to spot any clues to help them find her friend. Hannah takes out her wand and speaks to the tip, sending a quick message to Diana. It only takes a minute for an affirmation of receipt and understanding to come back to her. Hannah sighs in relief which makes Barbara do the same. “I think Diana is okay. She responded to my message. Just a quick response though. Hopefully it wasn’t faked by a kidnapper.”

“Way to stay positive,” Amanda growled under her breath. Her eyes spot something on the ground below her, making her dive quickly into the woods. She comes back up with a frown and a torn piece of red sash in her hands. “At least we are still on track.” Amanda says softly. She tucks the fabric into her pocket and the girls keep flying in their pattern with Constaze keeping them on course, following the faint drag marks.

Soon after something catches Amanda’s eye again. This time it wasn’t from the ground. This time it was a shape hurtling at them in the air. Amanda turns to face it, squinting as it nears rapidly. She gulps when she recognizes a very angry Diana hurtling as fast as she could in their direction. “Okay ladies, the angry princess has arrived, and I think she wants to murder someone.” 

[marvelmymarvel]

Sniper’s Lover

Marcus x Reader

Synopsis: When Marcus is asked to take out you, Winston’s daughter who he has never met, he doesn't think twice before taking the assignment. But once he sees you through the scope, things change and he begins to fall in love with you. 

A/N: I don't know his last name and it freaking sucks, but!!! Marcus doesn't get enough love tbh and I loveeeee Willem Dafoe. It's based heavily off of Marcus protecting John during the first movie in case you were wondering!

It was simple, simpler than any of his other assignments. Kill the girl... So why was this so damn hard? Marcus grunted before pulling back from the scope as he began to watch you with his own two eyes. You weren’t far away and it was easy to see that you had your guard down, he could kill you effortlessly. His marine training and assassin background made kills like this as simple as slicing bread, yet he couldn't do it.

He couldn’t kill you.

“I don't even know who the hell you are...” Marcus whispered before falling back onto his ass. Licking his fingers, he began to unscrew the silencer from the top of his rifle, trying to calm the agitated feelings that rumbled under his skin. You were just some stupid girl... He chanted in his brain as he put his gun away. This wasn't the first time that he was unable to kill you, no... 

This would be the fifth.

He remembered when he first got this offer 2 months ago, he didn't hesitate taking it. The price tag over your head was 2 million, something that Marcus could take and retire with. The people who wanted you dead stated that the reason was to get to Winston and since Marcus didn't have any close ties to Winston, this wasn’t a problem. 

That was until he saw you. 

Pulling out his phone, his finger hovered over the bosses name, contemplating if he should tell them he couldn’t do it but then realization dawned on him. If he doesn't kill you, which he knew he couldn't, someone else would. The thought of someone harming you sent an anxious shockwave through his chest. Why did he care so much for you?! A girl he didn't even know!! Your giggle rose up along the buildings and hit his ears like musical notes. 

You always sounded so sweet.

He shook his head violently before scratching at his face anxiously, he had to get you out. He had to take you out, because if he didn't... Someone else would and he didn't know what he would do if you were killed, by him or someone else. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he decided one thing. He would continue watching you through the scope of his sniper rifle.

But he would protect you with it.

The clubs music pounded in your ears as you made your way through the fog on the ground. You had lost your friends hours ago and now wanted to get away from the grinding bodies. “Excuse me” you hollered to the guy next to you as you grabbed his arm. His eyes were hooded and you knew he was definitely on some sort of drug by the way he sluggishly smiled at you. “Can you point me to the exit?” you pressed, not really afraid of someone like him. Dealing with assassins 24/7 all your life made you rough on the edges, men like him were nothing but pansies. “I can point you the way to my cock princess” he purred before grabbing your hip and ripping you towards him. You rolled your eyes before shoving him back sharply, your strength was unexpected and he went tumbling to the ground. You started to walk away before he stood up and screamed after you.

“ты заплатишь за эту суку“ (You’ll pay for this bitch).

Your eyebrow shot up in surprise as you heard the all too familiar Russian words fall from his lips. Turning your head, you sent him a sharp glare. “Не эта сука” (Not this bitch) you snarled before turning back towards the newly found exit and heading towards it. You could sense that he was following you and you fumbled with the knife on your side, not another one of these. With knife in hand, you switched the blade out and pushed the door open. Your thin heels hit the concrete as you pulled your coat closer to your body. You saw your Porsche parked 15 feet from you, home free-

You were shoved into the hood of your car, your switchblade flying form your fingers and clattering against the concrete. Strong hands flipped you around and you saw that it was, in fact, the man from the club pinning you down.  

“Я преподам тебе урок уважения, детка“ (I will teach you a lesson in respect, baby) his smooth Russian words flowed from his lips and in another time and place, you would have found it attractive. “Иди к чёрту“ (Go to Hell) you threatened back through gritted teeth as your legs flew up, trying your best to shove him off. His fist connected with your jaw, causing you to cease your movement as stars circled around you. Blinking rapidly, you looked up at him as he threw another punch, and then another. 

“Ты просто сука“ (You’re just a bitch) he snarled as he threw you back onto the hood. You could feel the blood in your mouth but didn't know if it was from your nose, your mouth, or both. He pulled away and turned around with his two other friends and all three began to walk away, leaving you disheveled and broken. You really should have just stayed silent.

“Не твоя сука“ (Not your bitch) you snapped with a small bloody smirk, you meant for it to be silent, but once you saw the man freeze, you knew you were dead. He turned back, his eyes blazing with rage under the street lamps. He began to storm over, fist raised and Russian curse words flowing from his angry lips. You closed your eyes and shoved your face in your arm, hoping he would kill you quickly.

The sound of a gun caused you to cringe back on the hood of the car, but once you heard the man's body fall, you realized the gun wasn't from him. Looking up from your arm, you saw the man lying on the concrete as blood poured from his skull. Looking up, you saw the two other men running away but soon, they two went down with gunshots in their head. You stood up straighter, wiping the blood from your mouth as you looked around, trying to find the source of the shooter. Realizing it wasn't someone on the ground, you raised your eyes and barely caught a shadow retreating from the building above. You had known there was a sniper following you ever since the first day you saw him two months ago, but you didn't think he would protect you.

“Thanks” you whispered up into the shadows, hoping that one day you would meet the man who couldn’t seem to kill you but protected you instead. A hiss flew from your lips as you grabbed your jaw, finally starting to feel the aftereffects of the blows. Grabbing the keys in your pocket and the blade on the ground, you got into your car and took off towards the one place you knew you were safe.

The Continental.

“Holy shit! You look like hell!!” Addy proclaimed as she grabbed your face softly in her hands. “Where’s my father” you pressed wincing from even her light touch. Addy pulled her hand away at your wince and motioned over towards his usual spot, “He’s right over there, let me get you some whiskey... Your usual?” she talked quickly and you hardly heard her question over the pounding in your head but you nodded, knowing full well that she was going to try hard to numb your pain. Turning, you almost ran into a body and looked up to see a somewhat familiar face looking at you worriedly, “Excuse me” you mumbled as you pushed past him. You could feel him watching you as you weaved through the crowd, but you didn't care.

“She’ll be okay Marcus” Addy said to the man who was watching you. He hummed and handed her his empty glass. She grabbed the glass and frowned at the look he was shooting your way. “Since you look so worried about her, why don't you bring her her drink?” Addy commented knowingly as she slid your drink into his hand. He nodded at her thankfully before grabbing the glass of whiskey and weaving his wave towards where you were sitting with your father.

“He just punched me over and over again... But someone killed them” you stated firmly as he used his white napkin to dab lightly at the blood dripping down your chin. You only had your father and he only had you, so seeing you in this state made him nervous. He knew someone wanted you dead, but for the past 2 months its been very quiet.

“I’m very sorry what has happened to you” 

Your head snapped up to the newcomer before realizing it was the man at the bar. “Marcus... What a surprise” your father chirped before handing you the now bright red napkin and shaking the man, Marcus’s hand. “Hello, Winston and...” Marcus trailed off as he turned his attention to you. You noticed a glimmer in his blue eyes causing your heart to race.

“This is my daughter, Y/n... I only recently brought her into the limelight but I’m slowly starting to regret it as you can see” Your father joked, but Marcus didn't see the humor in it as he examined your bruising face. “Mind if I sit?” he cut in as he looked at your father firmly, almost stating that he deserved to sit just from the look. “Go ahead... Listen, I have to go handle some business, do you mind watching after her until I get back?” your father asked as he began to stand. Marcus nodded and before you could even argue, your father was gone.

And you were left alone with Marcus.

Looking over, you smiled softly at him before dabbing under your nose once more, silently praying that it would stop bleeding. The silence overtook you both as you looked in the metal plate at yourself. Nothing you were doing was helping and you became frustrated. Your fist balled up in pain as the other hand’s fingers tried to find the bleeding source.

“Here. Let me help you”

Marcus’s fingers pushed yours away as his other hand raised your chin up so he could see better in the dark bar. You let out a groan as his fingers felt up your nose before finally finding a spot and clamping down. “Ow!” you hollered out and he just shushed you sweetly as the fingers resting on your chin moved down to cup your jawline so as to hold you firmly in place. “What exactly are you doing” you stated but because of the clamped nose, it came out nasally and annoying. A smile formed on Marcus’s face at the pitched sound and shook his head to hide his giggles. “I’m trying to stop the bleeding that's by the broken bone, I have to set it in order to stop the bleeding completely, but I need your permission-”

“Do it.” You cut in sharply, just wanting this to be over. You would be lying if you said that you didn't find the older man attractive and alluring but you bleeding all over his hand had to be putting him off. “Okay...” he trailed off as both hands moved up to the broken nose bone, “One. Two. Three”

“FUCK” you screamed out as the bone snapped back into place. The pain traveled down your neck and to your chest, making you feel like you couldn’t breathe right. Pulling back, you hovered your hand over your nose, not realizing that all around you were eyeing Marcus as if he had hurt you on purpose. Once you pulled your hand away, and they saw the blood around your nose, they soon realized what he had done and moved along. 

“I’m sorry darling... Here, Addy made you your drink, it should help the pain-”

His head snapped to you sharply as you grabbed the glass before he could finish. Downing the warm liquid, you felt it burn your throat and for a split second, it masked the pain in your head. He was impressed but slightly concerned as you had downed it without cringing. Slamming the glass down, you threw your hand up so Addy could see you signaling for another. She nodded at you as she stopped the current drink she was making to make your drink first. 

“So, wanna help me ignore the pain?” you cooed playfully as your hand fell on top of his, it was meant to be a joke but you couldn’t ignore the jolt of lightning that traveled to your stomach. He laughed lightly before grabbing the napkin in front of him and dipping it in a water glass. “How about we clean you up... And then we will see-”

You giggled playfully as you leaned in so he could wipe the blood away, seeing you through the scope was one thing, but up close you were breathtaking. He was glad he never made a shot at you, he was glad he killed those men tonight. Your eyes narrowed as you took in his features, trying to place him where you saw him before.

“Holy shit... You’re the sniper that's been following me” 

He froze as his eyes flicked up to yours. Was he breathing? It didn't feel like he was breathing. “I can explain-”

“You protected me tonight” you cut him off before he could keep going. Your hands cupped his cheeks and he looked at you in both confusion and worry. “Who sent you to kill me?” 

There it was. The question he hoped would never be asked, however, unlike most cases, he told you immediately. The name of the guy who hired him made you nod in understanding as if you knew about this from the very beginning. “Thank you for not going through with it” you whispered shakily as your thumb ran up and down his cheek sweetly. To be honest, you grew accustomed to your protector on the roof. At first, you were scared but realized that he would never harm you. “I’m so sorry I took the assignment... But I couldn’t hurt you and the thought of someone hurting you was too much so I still followed you. I know its wrong, I know I sound creepy but I-”

Your lips slamming against his silenced him immediately. He was shocked at first but closed his eyes and kissed back eventually. Pulling back, you smiled at him softly. “I have a secret to tell you Marcus” you whispered while pressing your forehead against his. He cocked his head, signaling for you to continue. “I knew you were following me... I knew who you were... And I knew you were there to protect me... And I have a thing for protective men let me tell ya” you purred seductively as you slid your body closer to his in the booth. 

“My father sent his men to watch you as you watched me... Hell, I just had to match the face with the name” you continued as your hands rested on his chest playfully. He cracked a smile at you before regaining his courage once more. “Do you like what you see?” he asked quietly in your ear causing a shiver to run down your spine. He pulled back and saw your shit-eating grin.

“I love it”

[toocool2btrue]

Distance 2/2

Lance currently lay in his bed his brows furrowed as thousand thoughts swarmed in his mind, the Garrison was going to announce the result of the pilot exam on Monday and the mere thought of it gave him the goose bumps, he shook his head, trying to push those thoughts at the back of his mind and instead eyed the clock wondering when will Katie will come back. Although it was Saturday, she had been called in for an emergency at work and she had yet to come back home. To keep his anxious mind busy, Lance had spent the whole day doing small chores but now there was nothing left to do. He hoped that Katie would come home soon and hopefully they could play video games together.

If she actually gets the time that is, he wouldn’t be surprised if Eric had already something planned beforehand. Lance grumpily sighed, he felt guilty for getting jealous of her boyfriend like that after all she had every right to prioritize Eric over him but still…

The memory of Katie holding onto his hand was still fresh in his mind, just thinking about it made a chill run down his spine and he knew for sure that Katie had felt something too but at the same time she had made it clear in her own way that she didn’t want to or wasn’t ready to have this conversation.

His trail of thoughts were interrupted by a loud bang on his door, ”Hey Lance, Can I come in?” Katie called out from the other side. Lance gave himself a moment to recover his breath, Katie made her entrances like a serial killer. 

“Yeah!” he called back and true to his earlier statement the door was kicked open almost out of hinges by a frantic looking Katie but instead of holding a knife or a chainsaw she had held up two dresses in each hand.

“I just got back from work and I need to attend a formal party soon. So help me decide. Black or Green?” she questioned holding them up better for Lance to see. His eyes flitted from the black one to the emerald green one. He always considered green to be more of her color so he immediately replied, “The Green one”

Katie inspected the two dresses again and then nodded in agreement, “Yeah I don’t think I am in a mood for a backless dress. It’s gonna be freezing there. I’ll wear the green one and tie my hair in a high ponytail and call it a day” she grumbled exhaustively.

Lance frowned at her idea and spoke up “Katie, I think a side bun will suit the dress more than a high ponytail” he suggested helpfully.

Katie groaned rubbing her temple, “I know you are right but I am too tired to even attempt something like that right now. I spent the whole day trying to fix the stupid malfunction in the prototype. My hands are numb” she sighed dramatically, displaying her hands to him. 

Lance mentally awed, they still looked so small as compared to his. “Well if you want. I can help you with that. You’d be surprised to see how skilled I have become” he declared proudly and Katie raised a brow in amusement, it had been a longtime since she had a glimpse of his old cocky personality.

“I hope you’re a better hairstylist than you were a tailor”

Sometime later

“Lance, please tell me that you know what you are doing” Katie asked as Lance took hold of her hair, “Will you just relax? It’s going to look amazing!” he assured.

“Although you could have at least brushed it before. It’s all tangled up” he reprimanded, picking up a brush. Katie scoffed in an offended manner, “When I gave you the responsibility of my hair, this was included in it. You can’t back off now buddy”

Lance chuckled as he gently brushed her auburn locks, “Don’t worry I am not backing off. This is my Everest and I will succeed!” he declared. Lance watched in the mirror as Katie rolled her eyes, “Stop being so over dramatic,“ she scoffed again but there was telltale hint of a smile on her face.

“I like to give you a warning. My hair has a mind of its own, so we are gonna need a lot of bobby pins” she informed opening the top drawer of her dresser. Lance blinked in disbelief at the mountain of bobby pins in the drawer, “How do you still have so many of them. Don’t they disappear?” he wondered, after all that’s what years of living with his mother and sisters taught him.

“I buy them twice a month just in case. There was a time Matt used to steal mine to try all these crazy hairstyles. Thankfully he has got a normal haircut now” she replied. 

“I see what you mean” he mumbled as a small curl popped out from the half done bun and Katie laughed handing him a handful of bobby pins.

“Anyway what have you got planned for the night?” she asked. “Uh.. nothing, Veronica has to attend a friend’s bridal shower and you have that party so I’ll be at home and probably order pizza” he replied trying to sound upbeat.

“I see..” she mumbled falling silent as Lance continued to work on her hair. After the bun was complete. Lance frowned unsatisfied, it looked perfect from the back but as he glanced at her reflection in the mirror, something was still missing.

So he walked over to the front and gently pulled out a stray curl that framed her face. Katie beamed at him in response as she inspected her reflection. “Thank you, Lance. It looks beautiful”

Lance wanted to correct her and tell that it was she who actually looked beautiful. More beautiful than anyone he had ever seen before but instead he softly smiled in response and accepted the compliment.

He glanced at his watch, there was still half an hour but Katie probably would want to get there earlier. “Well its almost time for you to go. Have fun” he smiled getting up to leave her room.

“Wait!’ she called out suddenly. “I am pretty sure that I am allowed to bring one person so why don’t you come with me?” she offered. Lance blinked in surprise before shaking his head. “Thanks but-”

“Oh come on, It would be better than you staying here. Shiro got back from his intergalactic trip yesterday so you will even get to meet him. Also the food is going to be amazing” She informed gleefully and Lance laughed.

“As much tempting that all sounds. It’s a formal event and I don’t even have a suit” He reminded. “You and Matt are about the same size. So you can wear one of his and dad has this blue tie that would really suit you” she supplied instantly.

Lance grinned, “You really thought this through?” to which Katie nodded proudly.

"There is a reason I am considered a genius. So will you please come” she asked tugging at his arm and Lance finally nodded after it was the same girl he had robbed a water fountain for. He didn’t have much resistance against her. 

______________________

“I feel dizzy seeing you like this ” Lance exclaimed holding his head and Shiro chuckled, “I think your being a tad bit melodramatic. I just dyed my hair black”

“It’s been a longtime since I saw them like that. What made you dye them black again?” Lance wondered.

“It started when I coincidentally met Matt during my intergalactic trip. We were just hanging out when he dared me to dye my hair black again. I was kinda hesitant and then he suggested that we could use temporary dye. Unfortunately none of us had any experience in hair dyeing and by the time we were done, we had blackened half the bathroom” Shiro chuckled and Lance joined in.

“Next morning when I woke up and looked in the mirror, I felt so young again and then I realized that I was only in my thirties I didn’t need to have a head full of white hair like some grandpa” he laughed in a thoughtful manner.

 Shiro glanced down at his drink before taking a sip, “I realized something important that morning. No matter how glorious or terrible your past is. Dwelling on it too long will destroy your hope for the future. That’s why I erased that part of me”

“What if there is something you can’t erase?” Lance questioned, touching his cheek. Lance knew Shiro would understand, after all he was the first one to get scarred by the war.

“Don’t let it” Shiro firmly replied, “Anything that is stopping you from being happy. Don’t give it that power. Lance, you need to understand something. After what we have gone through, we all deserve to be happy. I know it seems difficult at times but search and go after whatever makes you happy” Shiro stated.

Lance nodded taking in his words, by no coincidence his eyes fell to the figure standing at the opposite side of the room.Katie stood with Eric,chatting excitedly to a group of scientists.

Shiro knowingly smiled to himself witnessing the whole scenario, it was probably the fifth time he had seen Lance look back at Katie ever since she had gone to talk to the other group. 

He couldn’t believe that perhaps his years long suspicion might actually be coming true. “So things look better between you and Katie again” he mentioned casually, Shiro’s curiosity turned into glee when Lance’s face slightly flushed.

 “Oh yeah, she is the one who actually dragged me here” Lance mumbled shyly.

“I knew you two would eventually figure things out again. True friends always eventually come back to one another”

“You think we could be as good friends as before?” he questioned hopefully. Shiro shrugged in response, “Who knows maybe you two might actually be closer than before. It just depends on how much effort you put in your relationship”

Lance smiled to himself, “Thanks Shiro”

Shiro nodded slyly taking another sip of his drink, Keith and Hunk were in for some news.

“Takashi can you come here. We need to introduce you to the Emperor of Besaiv!!” someone called out from the crowd.       

Shiro rolled his eyes in an annoyed manner “To think they might spare me for one night. I’ll be right back ” he said patting Lance’s shoulder and then disappearing in a sea of people.

Lance nodded refilling his drink, he leaned against the wall next to the food table. In order to keep himself amused he looked around the large room despite it being more of a private event the place was still packed with Garrison employees and various alien delegates. There were even paparazzi spying from the windows avoiding security and trying to get a good shot of the event.

Lance considered joining Katie but he didn’t think her ‘boyfriend’ would be very pleased. After all his face looked like he had swallowed a bug when he saw Lance tonight but still managed to amiably greet him for Katie’s sake.

Speaking of the devil, Lance’s eyes widened in surprise when he noticed that Eric was no longer in his previous place. Instead he was seen again moving through the crowd and heading right towards him. Well to be fair, Lance was standing next to the less occupied food’s table so that was more likely why he was coming here.

Eric finally reached the table and filled his plate with few appetizers. “Hey there Lance. Having a good time?” he asked good naturally to which Lance nodded.

Instead of going back with his plate, Eric decided to join him next to the wall. They stood there quietly as Eric ate the appetizers which frankly wouldn’t take much time since they were a bite size only, the silence wasn’t a comfortable one and Lance really hoped that Eric would finish his tiny food quickly and leave.

���So Katie told me that your exam went well” Eric mentioned offhandedly. Finally something they could talk about, Lance sighed in relief. “Yeah I was really worried but thanks to-”

“That’s good to hear” Eric remarked cutting him off, by this time the plate was empty and before Lance could suggest the stuffed cheese chicken in a vain attempt to keep the conversation going, Eric spoke again.

“Lance” Eric cleared his throat, his eyes raced through the crowd before turning back to Lance. “There is something I need to ask” he said opting for a stern tone. Lance nodded uncertainly placing his glass back on the table, "Ok..”

“I need your honest answer to this. Is there something going on between you and Katie? Do you two have any history that I should know about?” he asked, much to Lance’s horror.

“What?! No!” Lance blurted out, his face turning bright red. “We are just close friends. Nothing else!” he replied hurriedly.

Eric frowned in disbelief, “Look, I am not an idiot who is just jumping to conclusions. It’s not like I haven’t met the other paladins, Katie is close with them as well but with you-”

“I already told you that there is nothing going on. How can you not trust her?!” Lance hissed as fury danced in his cool blue eyes.

“Of course I trust her!” Eric replied getting agitated “It’s you that I don’t. After all, it’s pretty obvious that you have feelings for her” Eric pointed out.

Lance stood there tongue-tied as Eric continued, “Oh come on, it’s not like I haven’t noticed that the entire time you have been here you haven’t been able to take your eyes off her nor did I miss the forlorn look in your eyes when I came to pick her up a few days back. So.. can you deny it now?” he questioned harshly.

Lance’s eyes fell to the floor, his face burning with embarrassment and anger but Eric still wasn’t done, “I am surprised to be very honest. Everyone knows how hopelessly devoted you are to the late princess. You even carry her marks on your cheeks so what happened now? Finally got tired of playing the sad lover?”

Lance looked up and glared daggers at him, “That is none of your concern!”

Eric simply gestured towards the auburn haired girl and then eyed Lance dangerously. “You have made it my concern”

Katie laughed forcefully, as Dr Frank cracked what felt like the thousandth joke of the evening. Despite the cool atmosphere, the nervousness was starting to make her hands sweat. Although from afar, it looked like two men just having a serious discussion but she doubted they shared any common interest to have this long of a conversation.

She glanced around her group, it didn’t look like Dr Franks story was going to end anytime soon but she really needed to come up with to escape soon or else tonight’s party would be remembered for very different reasons.

“ I am feeling a bit thirsty. Let me just get a drink” she informed trying to get out of the conversation. Just then a waiter arrived carrying a tray full of drinks, Dr Frank picked up a glass and handed it to Katie.

“Oh would you look at that. Lucky you” He commented joyfully and Katie had to refrain from rolling her eyes, lucky her indeed. Dr Frank’s eyes lit up and Katie prayed that he hadn’t remembered another one of his dreadfully long and supposedly funny stories yet to her dismay.

“You know this reminds me of the time..” he started and Katie internally screamed. She glanced back at the two men. Their postures looked more stiff than before and it looked like the discussion had now turned into a full blown argument.

She wanted to slip away from the group but Dr Zenia had a good grip on her forearm. Just as she was planning her next move, Shiro came to her rescue.

“Uh..sorry to interrupt but there is this urgent matter that needs Katie’s attention” He stated politely, tugging her away from the group of disappointed scientists.

“Thanks Shiro” she mumbled as the two friends swiftly navigated through the crowd. Shiro nervously glanced at the two arguing figures, luckily they hadn’t grabbed a lot of attention, aside from a few waiters who decided to stay clear of them and handful of Besavis who simply blinked their multiple eyes in confusion at the scene.

“Maybe thank me after this gets solved” He replied worriedly. Katie didn’t reply for her eyes were trained right where Shiro’s were a moment ago. Her mind buzzed with various solutions at the same time her heart twisted with worry.

What could have possibly lead to this? She anxiously thought. She hadn’t even brought up the idea of break up by now but then Eric despite his cool nature did have an irrational streak to him and it made her worry about what exactly was he assuming and excusing Lance off.

“Fine, so what do you expect me to do? What is the point of this conversation?” Lance questioned irritability.

“I think the point is clear enough. I want you to stay away from Katie! ” Eric snapped.

Lance sneered in response to Eric’s annoyance,  “Katie and I have known each other even before the discovery of Voltron. Since then, we have faced things together that you can’t even imagine in your worst nightmares. She is one of the most important people in my life so if you think that you can actually try and scare me away. You need to get your head checked for loose screws”

Thankfully before the fight could have further escalate,Katie arrived. She cleared her throat grabbing attention of the two men and at the sight of her both of them paled. 

“Katie..” Eric was the first one to speak up much to his misfortune, Katie acknowledged him for a brief moment before turning back to Lance and Shiro. 

“Excuse us” she stated politely before turning back to her boyfriend. “Eric follow me, we need to talk” she stated firmly and he complied silently.

Lance watched as the two of them disappeared yet again in the crowd. He and Shiro stood silently for the remainder of the time till Katie finally arrived again. Eric was nowhere near to be found and Katie’s earlier strict demeanor looked crumbled as well, it was obvious what had happened.

Shiro and Lance shared a worried look and Shiro stepped forward to comfort her but Katie wasn’t currently in the mood for sweet words and decided to call it a night, “Good night, Shiro. I’ll see you on Monday” she simply mumbled to the older man who nodded understandably.

She then turned to Lance and he gulped wondering if she had some choice words prepared for him as well but she only sighed softly and said, “Lets go home”

______________________________

Katie slammed the door of her car shut with bang, Lance expectantly glanced at her to say something. He didn’t even care if she would start shouting at him, it would be less scary than this silent Katie.

Katie started slowly making her way towards the house as Lance followed but instead of going inside. She slumped down on the front steps of the house, “Ugh!” she groaned in frustration , covering her face with her hands.

Lance took a hesitant seat beside her, “I am sorry” he mumbled causing Katie to look at him and to his surprise,her eyebrows were cocked up in an amused manner.

“What are you apologizing for?” she asked. Lance looked at her in disbelief, he had thought that Katie would be somewhat furious with him as well. “Because of me. You and Eric got into a fight and you guys broke up” he tried to reason, still feeling confused.

Katie let out a short giggle to his horror, “It was going to happen soon anyway you just catalyzed the whole thing. So don’t feel guilty” she tried to assure.

“Why?” he asked confused, last time he checked Eric looked like he was ready to challenge him to a duel for Katie.This question brought back the earlier gloominess, Katie hugged herself before explaining “It wasn’t gonna work out. I know that eventually he wanted something serious for us but I am not in the same place. I tried to bring myself to that place but I can’t” she cried out helplessly.

“And do you know why?” she added softly, the vulnerable look in her eyes was back, the pale moonlight added a silvery glow to her amber eyes. Lance’s throat felt dry so he only nodded to hear her answer.

“It’s because I am an Idiot!” she declared, “You were right. I can’t do these easy going relationships, it will always be the case of all or nothing for me but I was still stupid enough to do it” she stated miserably. 

“You are not stupid. In fact, that’s the exact opposite of what you are” he comforted jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. Unfortunately Katie didn’t seem much amused, “I am stupid at this whole relationship stuff and because of my indecisiveness he is the one who actually got hurt and he deserved better” she whispered.

“Pidge..” Lance called out, wrapping his arm around her, Katie welcomed the comforting embrace and she moved closer to him. She softly sighed, as she placed her head on his shoulder. The two friends remained quiet for a moment, enjoying the tranquility of the night had to offer.

“I shouldn’t be allowed to talk to people” Katie mumbled, her voice slightly muffled by Lance’s jacket. Lance chuckled, “The world would then be a very boring place”

Katie playfully scoffed at his cheesy praise tragically the light atmosphere didn’t last long after all Lance had his own burdens of the heart.

“Since it’s the night of failed relationships. I have a confession too” he declared. Katie lifted her head from his shoulder and eyed her friend with a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

“What are you talking about?” she questioned, pulling away from him.

“Allura and I. Our relationship” he started nervously with his eyes trained to the ground.

“It was a mistake”

“A mistake?” Katie repeated. Lance winced, it felt more painful hearing it out in words. “Yes it was mistake. Don’t get me wrong. Allura was a great person and I still love her but now that I think about it, I only ever loved her as a friend and I am pretty sure she never thought more of me either”

Katie looked at him as if he had grown a second head, “Are you sure?” she questioned and to be fair she did have the right to be suspicious, after all he had spent some good years tending those juniberries and avoiding his friends.

“Yes I am sure” he stated. “To be honest there was always something off about our relationship. Sure we were there to comfort and be there for one another but none of us were actually ..happy" 

"I used to think that maybe I had exaggerated the idea of love in my head thanks to those stupid writers and poets and this is what it actually felt like” Lance mumbled, glancing at Katie. 

He had always found her fascinating, even long before he had known she was a girl. There was this pull and connection he had felt that compelled him to know her better and he feels disappointed that only now he knows what that truly meant.

“But now I know better. Love was never exaggerated by those poets or writers. In fact, it’s such a strong feeling that I don’t think anyone can ever properly describe it” he breathed in amazement, he could feel the warm glow on his cheeks.

“Lance. Your marks are glowing” Katie whispered, reaching out to touch them. Lance laughed heartily, “They are?” his heart wildly danced in his chest as he felt her soft hand against his cheek.

A moment later, the glowing stopped. Katie retracted her hand and beckoned Lance to continue. He cleared his throat, trying to remember his words,“Truth is that we never felt this way about each other and probably if she had lived on. We might have broken up but then she sacrificed herself and gave me the Altean marks and at that time, I was really confused about the whole thing but when I got the Altean marks. I somehow convinced myself that maybe we had been truly in love and now it was my destiny to keep her memory alive”

“And then you know it got out of hand” he mumbled, feeling embarrassed. “I felt confused, lost and trapped. The only goal that made sense to me at that time was keeping her memories alive and then when you guys tried to help me move on. I couldn’t do it. It felt like too much pressure” He confessed as Katie rubbed his back in comfort.

“But hey look at yourself now. You have come so far, you actually are moving on and you know the best part is that you decided to do it on your own. That means you are ready for a new life” she pointed out to which Lance smiled.

“I am” he agreed, “and now when I think about it. I realize that Allura would never want me to keep my life on hold like that. I am pretty sure if she had the opportunity she would have kicked me back to the Garrison” he stated lightheartedly and Katie silently agreed.

"i realized something important today. Team Voltron sucks at romance” Katie declared glumly. Lance chuckled and nodded in agreement.

“What about Hunk though?” Lance asked suddenly remembering one of them was actually in a stable relationship.

“You’re forgetting that he chickened out three times before he finally asked Shay out for a proper date” Katie reminded.

“I don’t think you could add Keith to our group” Lance pointed out, “Mullet managed to seduce three princesses and almost caused war in a planet”

“Whoa! Who knew that Keith was the true lover boy but what can be said girls do love the broody artist type” she grinned. 

“The ponytail must have surely helped” Lance added and the two of them broke into fits of laughter.

After the laughter died down.They sat in amiable silence,enjoying the peace and security the other’s company provided.

“I missed this” he confessed breaking the silence, Katie smiled softly and nodded in response. Somehow that soft smile provided him the courage to say the words, he had kept off his lips the whole time. Although he had thought about this for a very long time, always wondering and worrying for the right time to say them and it seemed like the moment had finally arrived. 

“Katie, I am sorry” he whispered, taking hold of her hand. “I should never have pushed you away like that, it was the stupidest thing I have ever done and you should know that I really regret it. I regret driving you away to the point of ruining our friendship because Katie you mean so much to me” he confessed, tightening the grip on her hand.

“I felt miserable during the period we stopped talking and it made realize how important you are to me. I never ever want to lose you again” he declared.

Katie was grateful for the lack of light for she was sure her face was redder than a firetruck still her lips curved into a smile, “Never?” she questioned cheekily.

Lance grinned in response, “Even when we die. My ghost will find yours and since Keith is gonna live longer than us because of his galra genes. We will go haunt him”

“Lance..” she tried rolling her eyes at the ridiculous statement but truth was she couldn’t be happier so she finally decided to be honest. Honest with him but most importantly to herself.

“I am glad you are back. I missed you so much” she finally confessed. Lance’s heart practically jumped out of his chest when she pressed a kiss on his cheek and then pulled him into longing hug. He responded, holding onto her with equal desperation. 

“I am sorry too” she whispered in his ear. “I should have been more understanding and patient with you”.

“It’s alright. It doesn’t matter anymore. I am just glad to have you back” he replied, closing his eyes as two stray tears slid down his cheeks. As the tears made contact with the marks, they glowed for the last time before finally disappearing forever.

Epilogue 

Leon, come back here!!“ Lance called out running after his three year old son. Leon shrieked in excitement as his father finally caught him and then lifted him into the air.

"Leon is flying in space!” Lance declared, spinning his son in the air. “Papa higher!” Leon demanded, failing his arms.

 Katie smiled to herself as she watched the little scene. In a minute she had to go and remind Lance to stop messing around and put Leon to bed but for now her she let herself relax and be grateful. 

She was reminded of an interesting discussion they had at work, there existed multiple realities in the vast universe and each reality had a different conclusion to their story, in some they might have never even met and led their lives contently without the knowledge of other.

Probably in another, they fell in love at first sight and never parted or maybe they did meet but their feelings never surpassed the platonic line. She slightly frowned at the idea that perhaps in a few they did fall in love but the time hadn’t been right and they didn’t end up together. 

“Mama!” Leon called out, Lance had finally put their dizzy toddler down and now he was running with full speed towards her. Katie slightly toppled as Leon crashed into her legs and urged her to pick him up. 

She dutifully did so and then showered his face with kisses. Leon giggled with delight but the excitement didn’t last long for his eyes had now started to grow heavy and the familiar scent of his mother was lulling him to sleep, Leon wrapped his arms around his mother’s neck and a few moments later he was fast asleep.

Lance immediately came over to her side offering to take Leon from her. She softly smiled and shook her head assuring him that despite her exhaustion she could carry her boy. 

After tucking Leon into bed, the couple quietly walked out of the room. Lance reached out and engulfed his wife in a needy hug,“ I missed you so much. One month is too long ” he pouted referring to his recent mission from which he had just returned.

“I gotta say I am surprised that you didn’t immediately come over to my lab after landing maybe becoming the Head pilot changes people” she teased and Lance further pouted still holding her firmly in his arms.

“I was just coming over to your lab when Iverson stopped me and asked me to give report of the mission. I swear that man is plain evil, he purposely stopped me from seeing you!” Lance declared and Katie shook her head.

“You’re forgetting, it’s only because of Iverson we met in the first place. Who the heck is Pidge Gunderson?” she reminded and Lance softly smiled, kissing the top of her head.

His eyes fell on their wedding rings and he sighed in contentment for out of all the billions of possible realities that existed. They managed to exist in the one where despite the internal conflicts, mistakes and uncertainties they had to go through they had finally found true happiness.

“My wife” he proudly replied.

Thank you for everyone who read this! I hope you enjoyed it and please reblog if you did and tell me your favorite moment. Thank you @artemisarya for letting me borrow Leon for the ending.

[villanevest]

"I Can Help You": the Build-Up to & Significance of 2x07's Villaneve Sex[ish] Scene

of COURSE i am going to write about this. before we get started though, i wanted to tell you all that while @villainever is still running, i will be mostly posting from my brand-new primary, @villanevest (this blog). so follow me for the same stupid memes, and check the "villanevest writes" tag if you're interested in more of these essays :D alright. now let's get going. killing eve is an extremely versatile show, and that's absolutely a credit to the writers being willing to follow the characters and their relationships, which allows the narrative to develop in a simultaneously organic and deeply compelling way. the greatest complexity of the series is also its primary draw: the dynamic between villanelle and eve, and its evolution. in this mini-essay, we're going to step through why -- I believe -- the construction of the sex scene as two separate but synchronised encounters is the best choice for killing eve right now, and how they've accelerated towards it since the pilot. from the beginning, villanelle and eve have been all about parallels. the first time we see villanelle in the ice-cream shop, she's spaced-out, bored, a vacant observer. the first time we see eve, she's asleep. these scenes are very deliberately presented to us, one after another: here, we have two women who feel displaced and alienated. neither of them is lonely, not exactly; they have people in their lives. what they lack is real, significant passion, something beyond the routine -- for villanelle, that "routine" is a lot more dramatic, certainly, but nonetheless, they're both numbed out, but until they meet each other, they're not really aware of that.

and then we have that moment in the hospital bathroom. it's not a coincidence that they're standing in front of a mirror, confronted with each other, and themselves. the composition of this visual directly implies that villanelle and eve are not just alike, but inherently complementary. in many ways, eve is a reflection of villanelle, and villanelle is a reflection of eve -- that is, opposite, but also identical. it's not until later that they really understand the importance of this two-second conversation, but  it's the first breath of an obsession that will span continents and become literally life and death. 

eve and villanelle discover each others' real identities at the same time, in a montage that draws focus again to these similarities between them and their experiences. but this is when their respective trajectories towards each other begin to progress separately and distinctly. the reason for this is that while villanelle is unquestionably the "cat" in this cat-and-mouse equation, at this point, she is also the one being chased, and eve is in pursuit. for most of the first season, villanelle has more information about and power over eve than vice-versa. for eve, who still has niko, she is seduced into the thrill of villanelle through that prescribed pursuit, and for a little while, that's enough for her. but villanelle doesn’t have such a set structure, and -- once she knows eve's name and eve's face -- almost immediately begins seeking out copies.

the first copy she constructs is herself, signing in as "eve polastri" while working in berlin. this is mostly a stunt to get eve's attention -- the first of many (amsterdam, anyone?) -- but it compounds on 1x01's thematic suggestion of their compatibility. the second copy, however, is perhaps the most blatant example of this: the woman from the tour group who sleeps with villanelle in 2x03. villanelle tells her she "loves her [American] accent", and gets her to take her hair down, and then goes on to actually call her eve.

villanelle's interest in superficially recreating eve fades fairly early, after eve gets out of the car to confront villanelle when villanelle is absolutely armed and definitely dangerous, for no apparent reason other than she wants to. villanelle scares her off with a warning shot (even though she could've very easily killed her at this point), but then doubles back the next episode, with the kitchen sequence from 1x05. villanelle says she "just wants to have dinner with [eve]", but i think this evening really exceeds her expectations. prior to this, she was very interested in eve, obviously, but after it, villanelle's infatuation becomes both more significant and more mature, and so does eve's. they've got chemistry when they're together, not just in the tension of being apart. BUT. so, so much of their story is spent apart. season one is a blur of glimpsed profiles and silhouettes, with only the bathroom, the kitchen, and finally villanelle's apartment providing them sites to briefly interact. at the end of 1x08, villanelle tells eve, "i masturbate about you a lot", but eve denies doing the same, which is probably true, in the sense that eve still believes she doesn’t (actively, at least) consider villanelle in a sexual way. then season two picks up, and they're apart again. only they're less apart than they were before. villanelle is right when she assures gabriel that eve stabbed her to "show [her] how much she cares about [her]". while it was barely premediated, and i don't think eve necessarily viewed it as a confession, it absolutely is; a confession of who she really is, and that that person is irrevocably linked to villanelle. in stabbing villanelle, eve puts the first truly irreversible crack in her façade of normality; she can't go back now, not all the way. the show doesn't really linger on this, though, because it's so obvious that eve doesn't WANT to go back. as reticent as i am to quote shakespeare, i will make an exception for this case, and take utterly out of context the line, "these violent delights have violent ends". for eve and villanelle, they need the violent delights and violent ends alike; sex and destruction and obsession and pain are integral to their characters. why? because i think such extreme emotions and acts break through that nothingness, that fugue villanelle talks about in 2x06. 

and so the stab wound -- which villanelle proudly shows off to niko in 2x05 -- becomes something of a pact between them. to eve, it means villanelle affects her strongly enough to push her out of herself (except really, into herself), and to villanelle, it means eve can exist in her world, can challenge and surprise her, can interrupt the boredom with these bright spots of total involvement and utter fascination. and since we’ll be talking about parallels later -- in 2x02, villanelle caressing her wound in the bathtub is juxtaposed with eve tracing the heart carved into the train table. i think a “carved heart” is pretty much the wound is, too. from the pilot, villanelle and eve's relationship is an intricate dance of towards/away, together/apart. over the story, over each direct and indirect crossing of their paths, they become more towards, less away; more together, less apart. after season one, particularly 1x08, they have this permanent and indelible connection. but they're still consistently positioned as unable to reach one another. villanelle calls MI6, but they won't send her through to eve. eve arrives, but misses villanelle, and villanelle watches through the transparent but very real barrier of the car window, literally passing her by. then we have them separated by only a door in 2x03, and so many other instances of close-but-not quite.

it's worth bringing up at this juncture that while the villaneve plotline is happening, villanelle and eve each have their own individual character arcs, so while they keep glancing off each other and being torn apart in practice, they are steadily gravitating to a middle ground mentally and emotionally. i'll come back to this idea. in 2x05, we have yet another mirror/reflection, as the kitchen scene is revisited. having this reunion in the same setting as their first foregrounds how their relationship has changed. eve isn't anxious or fearful or on the back foot. she's the one who brings villanelle to her home, not the other way around, as it was last time. she reaches out to villanelle, she's confident enough to take the pills, and she doesn't hesitate before saying "yes" when villanelle asks if eve will give her everything she wants. the "yes" is easy, because whether eve is quite ready to admit it or not, what villanelle wants is what eve wants. 

then villanelle helps eve with the ghost, and going forward, they're able to regularly collaborate, in their own off-beat fashion. so after 2x05, villanelle and eve are more or less settled as fixtures in their respective lives. there's still the dance, but there's no real chase. they've drawn abreast of one another. they've caught up. and this is where we circle back to the idea of copies. like i said, ever since eve has been real to villanelle, copies have been insufficient. but she still can't have eve, not entirely, and not exactly how she wants, so she escalates to proxies. in 2x06, villanelle mouths, "ready?" to eve, right before pushing amber's bodyguard in front of the truck. i'm not trying to imply that villanelle wants to push eve in front of a truck -- but as i said earlier, villanelle and eve intersect at this overlap of violent delights/violent ends. sex and death. she asks her Copy Eve in 2x03 "ready?" in just the same way. villanelle is demonstrating her faith in the depth of their connection in the extremity of her actions. she's proving to eve that they're for-better-or-worse now. she's not afraid that killing someone right in front of eve will drive her away; she knows it'll suck her in. 

so what's the significance of the shift from copies to proxies? the copies were for villanelle -- a stand-in so that she could act out her desires. it's much more reflective of the "i / it": if someone looked like eve, then it was almost as if she had the real thing, right? but her affection for eve mutates into something much harder for her to manage, and "it" very quickly becomes "eve", and she can't produce a facsimile that can hold a candle to "me / eve". but the proxies aren't for villanelle, they're for eve. if villanelle's not allowed to touch eve yet, then she's using the proxies to say, "this is how much i care. this is how much i want you." and on a subliminal level at least, if not a conscious one, i think eve interprets it that as such. then, finally, we get to 2x07. we have a repetition of the phone call from 2x02, and just as carolyn played eve the recording of villanelle's MI6 call, villanelle listens to eve's voicemails. in this instance, they haven't missed each other. they're already together. the "9 missed calls, 3 voicemails" are an overture across space, but not across distance. this is about breaching an emotional gap, not a physical one. eve and villanelle are around each other often now, but it takes their being apart again to highlight just how much that proximity has allowed them to evolve.

in the restaurant in rome, we again have the visual of eve reaching out, villanelle catching her hand, and them meeting in the middle. which brings us to The Scene. it follows villanelle's crucial conversation with aaron (which I wrote about here), and that gives her a last little push. note: we have to remember that the bug that eve is listening through is only one way. while this might seem like a let-down, in that villanelle couldn't hear eve, i think it's actually really significant. because it shows how well villanelle knows eve, how much effort she puts into understanding her, and how easily she remembers things about her. in 2x06, eve was interjecting via the comms throughout almost the entirety of the aaron-villanelle-amber dinner conversation. that and the voicemails exemplify eve's involvement and propensity to hover, which is a result of her natural controlling tendencies, and how consumed she is with villanelle. so even though villanelle had no way of knowing that eve was listening, she knew anyway. she was sure with no feedback or guarantee. i love how they set this eve/hugo encounter up during previous episodes. it's something of a checkov's gun situation -- that is, the principle that if you introduce an idea (e.g. hugo's sexual interest in eve), then you need to bring it to fruition. what the writers did so well, though, is that we thought hugo had already served his purpose as a romantic/sexual option -- when he leans in to kiss eve in 2x04 and she doesn't lean away, we have evidence of how little commitment she still has to her marriage. but now he becomes eve's proxy.

so why have eve hookup with hugo, and not villanelle? well, there are a lot of reasons. firstly, eve and villanelle having sex, or even kissing, would be a very significant development for the show, and have massive implications for the narrative. as a result, it would need a lot of build-up. the circumstances would need to be perfect. while eve is no longer shying from her attraction to villanelle, i think a mixture of adrenaline and tension would have to reach terminal velocity (probably by introducing an external stressor, like a fight or escape) for eve to actually step over that line. i don't think that, at this point, it's something she'd do with a perfectly clear head. she's too aware of how precarious the current balance is, and probably (quietly) also too afraid that giving in would mean villanelle's obsession would have closure, and thus die off. the episode just didn't have the minutes to generate that situation, and the plot didn't give an avenue for it.

secondly, it gives the writers a lot more room to play with the respective aftermaths. this way, they get to bring in 

1) a fallout of some kind between hugo and eve. hugo's been very laissez-faire all season about sex, about boredom, etc., going on about how he understands why eve took the job at MI6, and her interest in villanelle. but until this point, it's been pretty much all fun and games, all james bond for hugo. and then he's going to have this moment where he realises he and eve AREN'T alike. he's a good-time guy, a bit selfish, and smart enough to need an entertaining career to keep stimulated. eve? it goes SO much further than that for eve. she really is on that sociopathy/psychopathy spectrum, and she needs this to feel awake, to feel anything. in their sex scene, their dynamic flickered into an "i / it" for eve, because hugo as a person didn't really matter at all. he's going to see the exact scope and depth of eve's obsession, and he'll realise she's gone beyond where he can follow. first niko, then hugo -- they're both ferrymen who tag along for a piece of eve's journey, but ultimately stay behind. they give an important reference point for the audience; they act as thresholds we see eve pass -- here, something niko can't condone; now, something hugo won't do.

2) the no-morning-after for villaneve. this doesn't relieve any of the sexual tension, it ratchets it up. like the stab wound, this connects them, but it doesn't resolve anything. the writers now have so many options: maybe a little awkwardness from eve (unlikely), intensifying chemistry (very likely), perhaps denial, or a desperation to get alone and take things to the next level. this didn't close a door, it opened several. they'll be able to draw villaneve out even more, and they'll neatly sidestep both audience expectation and television tradition. it's their game now.

here, hugo also has metaphorical signifiance -- he's the human cost of villaneve. over the course of the show, bodies, careers, and relationships have all imploded to get villaneve even just close enough to touch. villanelle and eve are using hugo directly just as they've indirectly used many others. note: symbolically, as well, villanelle is in eve's head. this feeds into the notion of obsession -- since the pilot, villanelle has consumed eve's thoughts, and now she's actually there. finally, above all, i believe this encounter perfectly fits the current phase of their relationship, and its evolution. it's the culmination of copies and proxies and distance. like i said, that apartness is just as critical to villaneve as the togetherness. they are as made of their negative space as they are of their lines and colours. and here they are: after pretending different people are each other, after being pressed together but stepping away again, after using others as mediums to express themselves, after being chased and caught, lost and found. here they are: together and apart at once. 

not only is this thematic, it's romantic, in its own twisted way. fifteen episodes later, they are even sharper reflections of each other than they were when they met. they're in sync even with such little communication, and that stands in contrast to their additional relationships. niko and eve could be in the same room, talking directly, and be less connected. and that's kind of tragic -- that eve went through so much of her life NOT wide awake, that niko spent years with someone who wasn't really WITH him. villanelle and eve are all hot and cold, entirely comprised of extremes, because that's what they NEED to feel alive. villanelle says in 2x06, "like us, you mean". and that's exactly it: fundamentally, villanelle and eve are the same kind, and that's why they are so good together. it's how they stay so good apart.

will these violent delights have violent ends? unquestionably. but those ends will be new beginnings. eve won't go back to sleep. villanelle could never cope with being bored again. they'll push and pull, fight and fuck, get mad and get in deeper, inextricable. they'll keep chasing the delights and weathering the consequences, getting wilder and wilder until something happens that they can't shake off or walk away from. but that's how they are, that's how they're happy, and that's the only way they can be. 

i hope all this held together! I had a lot of thoughts and it was hard to compress into one short essay, so I know it seems like a lot of disconnected threads rip. as always, reply/ask/message me with ideas/requests if you have something you want me to talk about! thank you to everyone who has commented nice things on my previous posts; it makes me want to write more and it’s nice to know someone’s reading :D

[asexualsinner]

The Sound of Silence pt.4

Ever since I deleted my tumblr last year thanks to an email mix up (this is what happens when you run to many blogs lmao) I didn’t know if I was going to continue this but here we are, Part Four!! Thank you to my lovely beta reader who I accidentally woke up at 5am because I’m an asshole: @shutupimonit

Word count: 1,676

Warnings: Panic Attacks, Guilt, Removal of sutures, Blood mention, Virgil is not the nicest, he's not terrible but he's 100% done with the dark sides shit. Let me know if I've missed any!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16657657/chapters/47468692

...

Both sides stared at each other from opposite sides of the living room Deceit sat on the couch, shoulders tense and barely breathing. He could feel Virgil watching him and for once he felt as anxious as the other side usually was. This was a mistake. He shouldn't have come here, he should have just hid in his room and never left. He should have had tighter locks on his door, been more aware, should have prevented this!

He felt Patton watching the two of them, the oldest side's hands wringing nervously. What could he say that would ease the tension in the room? Ha. Say. Not like he could do much of that anymore. Rather, what could he do to show Virgil he wasn't a threat? That he meant no harm?

Before the mute side could think of a solution, Virgil sighed.

“Pat, this guy is bad news."

Ouch. Well not like he's wrong about that.

Not that Virgil had to sound so sure in that statement. Not that he had to cast Deceit so readily into the darkness that he himself had strived to escape from. Not that Deceit didn't deserve it.

Deceit heard Patton gasp from his left,

"But Virgil! We can't just send him back down there! Look at what they did!"

Deceit winced, as if he's done any better. The dark sides were all terrible in their own right, himself included. Virgil included. He shook his head, but Virgil is better. He isn't like that anymore. Right?

He cautioned a glance towards the anxious side. His eyeliner was darker than it should have been. It had to be because of Deceit's presence. If only he hadn't made that stupid mistake!! Virgil had left because of them, because of him. Virgil escaped the dark sides into the light where he rightfully belonged. He became better, he wouldn't fall back into bad habits just because he felt threatened by Deceit would he? Deceit hoped not.

"Look Patton, What if the others sent him up here on purpose? We can't give them a chance to hurt Thomas." Virgil argued. Deceit flinched. That wouldn't be an incorrect assumption for the others. Oh no, what if they had let him escape? The muted side could feel his chest tighten at the thought. No no no. No no no! He couldn't handle that. Almost as much as he couldn't handle the thought of Virgil hating him, of Patton sending him back down there, of the others getting their hands on him again, not again, Please Don't!!

Virgil and Patton jumped at the sound of Deceit's muffled choking. The other side was clawing at this throat, eyes unseeing as he spiraled further into fear. It was a sound Virgil hadn't heard in months and he didn't relish in hearing it once more. He was next to Deceit's side in a moment to Patton's surprise. The fatherly side could hear him talking in a hushed tone.

"Listen to me Deceit. Listen," Virgil commanded, "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not. Patton is here, he is not going to hurt you. You're in the light sides commons. Breathe."

Despite his serious tone, the anxious side gently pulled Deceit's hands away from his neck and into his own. He continued to talk the other through his panic.

"C'mon Dee, in for four, good. Now hold for seven, that's it. Out for eight."

The deceitful side copied the other clumsily, and repeated Virgil's advice a few times before the far away look in his eyes faded. He realized that the other was holding his arms and jerked away from him. Virgil pulled away and sighed,

"Look Patton, I don't like him," He shot a quick glare at Deceit, who grimaced. "And I don't trust that he isn't going to cause more trouble by being up here."

"But Virge-"

"But this is farther than the dark sides have gone in a while to hurt someone. We were all kind of terrible to each other down there but this," he gestured to the mangled stitching, "Wow. Something's going on down there. And You, Deceit, are going to tell us what it is."

Deceit didn't look like he was going to protest, but did look like he was going to be sick again. Patton decided that maybe there had been too much excitement for the day and it wasn't even noon.

"Alright Virgil. If you think that's necessary, but first we have to get those stitches out. We need Logan to look at them." He sighed.

The anxious side turned to actually fully examine the damage done to the deceitful side's face. Crouching down right in front of the other, he whistled in astonishment.

"They sure got you good this time Dee."

Deceit tried to turn away, but Virgil grasped his face before he could. His touch was light and gentle despite the look on his face. Deceit hadn't seen that look in his eyes for a while. Since he'd turned light. Don't tell him that Virgil was enjoying this! No, Virgil was totally enjoying this and Deceit couldn't blame him. Some things can't fade no matter how long you've been away from them. A sick enjoyment and relief of someone else being the target of the day Deceit doubted would ever fade. He could feel Virgil poking and prodding at the stitches and he winced. He wished the flesh would just turn numb already. He heard Virgil sigh.

"No need pops, I got this." He stood and stretched, hearing his knees pop from the movement. He reached for Deceit's hand and nodded towards the kitchen.

"Let's do this where there isn't carpet. Less messy that way."

Deceit cautiously nodded before letting himself be pulled up by Virgil. Patton followed closely behind as they settled into the kitchen. Deceit sat himself on the counter as per the anxious side's directions and closed his eyes in acceptance as he watched Virgil pull out a similar sewing kit from the same drawer the other had earlier. He refused to panic, Virgil wouldn't cause him more harm. The kitchens in the mindscape where the exact same, down to every detail of Thomas' own kitchen. This kit wasn't the one to hurt him, it wasn't! He will be fine! He trusted Virgil!

The sound of the zipper made him flinch violently and Pattom was quick to his side placing his hand over Deceit's own.

"It'll be okay kiddo. Virgil I didn't know you knew how to do something like this!"

Virgil and Deceit both wilted a little at the statement. Virgil didn't want Patton to know that he had spent countless hours patching himself up; patching Deceit up, but he had no choice. He couldn't stand by and do nothing, not when he could do something! He wasn't like that anymore! He and Deceit had been friends at one point in time. They had watched each other's backs. And then he left. With good reason, but he had left Deceit to deal with them alone. Deceit thought he hated him, and a part of him did. The part that wanted to keep the light sides to himself; to lock away the others so they could never hurt Thomas. But that had never been Deceit's goal had it?

He had to focus, he could sort out his own emotional trauma later. Right now he had to focus on fixing Deceit's.

Pulling the suture scissors out of the kit, Virgil shook his head to steady himself. He couldn't mess this up or else he could cause more damage.

"Here we go Dee, one at a time."

Slowly, ever so slowly to Deceit, the tension in his jaw snapped as Virgil cut the first cord. The anxious side had to grab hold of his chin so he didn't automatically yawn and pull each thread violently through their holes. He carefully snipped through each thread, watching as rivulets started pooling at the skin again.

The lack of tension caused the other an insurmountable amount of pain. He didn't think them being removed would somehow be more painful than them being put in!

Deceit sighed heavily through his nose as the last thread was cut and struggled to not immediately open his mouth. He waited patiently as Virgil set down the scissors and pulled a pair of tweezers from the kit. He worked meticulously to pull each binding out of the other's mouth, avoiding the tender spots. He diligently cleaned up the area while listening to Patton's stressed humming. He wiped away the blood and pus that had already started forming, wiped away the tears that had dripped from the other's eyes in the process, and carefully wiped antiseptic onto the puncture wounds. It was a thoughtless motion to Virgil, one he had done countless times, to himself, to Deceit and to the other dark sides when they came begging for him to help. It was habit, one he thought he'd grown out of, but it appears not. He was disappointed in himself, he thought he had grown out of the viciousness the dark sides had taught him, but seeing Deceit like that had proved him wrong. He had been happy when he first saw Deceit with his mouth sewn shut; had even laughed. Virgil couldn't believe himself, he thought he had changed! He shook his head, he'd apologize to Deceit and get his shit together. Bad habits die hard, but he was damn sure that this one was going down, one way or another. He cleaned and put away his materials, tossing the sewing kit into the drawer it came from before looking up at Deceit.

Deceit struggled to keep eye contact. Should he say something? Should he not say something? The rules were all messed up now! Virgil hated him! Why did he help him? He was so confused! Did Virgil not hate him? Before he could work himself up into another tizzy Virgil's next sentence made Deceit's skin crawl and his blood freeze.

"We need to talk Deceit. Alone."

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[quietlypondering]

Timeless | Chapter Three

Read on A03 Ship: Prinxiety Summary:  In a society where superpowers are the new era on the horizon - Virgil is happy flying under the radar, as much as he can, with government issued blockers. Life was… Normal - Or, at least, as normal as he could be. Until one day, as cheesy as it sounds, a simple train ride would change his life forever. Word Count:  1642 Warnings: Suicide Mention, Blood mention, Anxiety mention, Angst with a happy ending, Temporary character death Tags: Superpower AU A/N: Thank you to everyone who’s reading and enjoying timeless so far!! I’ve literally had this in the backseat for a year I’m so glad it’s finally happening lmao. Also! A huge thank you to my beta reader @kolurise​ (who you should definitely go check out)

Start | Previous | Next Going forwards in time wasn’t a taboo per se, but it was certainly something that Virgil felt very strongly against, unless the circumstances were particularly dire. Understandably so -  because backwards in time was one thing - but forwards was… You never knew what would happen. Going forward was a lot more unpredictable, to say the least. It was damn near impossible to control. He could end up anywhere. It’s one of the few things he agreed on being far too dangerous to use unless it was a dire circumstance - what if he got stuck? What if he accidentally, unwittingly changed the future?

And sure - he’d done it before as a kid, back when his powers were first coming in. He vividly remembered his mother freaking out, thinking he’d gone missing, only for him to turn up the next day right next to her.

...The week following his escapade was spent almost completely bedridden.

And he’d come this far.

What’s another few rules to break? Virgil knew the consequences. 

He eyed Roman carefully - watching as he left for the audition, and taking a moment to ready himself. With a simple flick of the wrist, he was flung forward in time.

It’s important to note here, that the future is unforgiving. The past is the past - but the future knows things that you don’t. The future is harsh and terrifying, no matter what kind of future it is, no matter what you think might happen… The future is simply incomprehensible.

And Virgil could feel it. The seconds turning to minutes, then hours, thundering past him like a hurricane, forcing all air from his lungs. His fingers began to ache - and then his feet, his arms, his throat caught on the sound of a billion voices screaming into his skull.

He could turn back. 

He could stop - right now - he could leave everything as it was. Let a death be just another goddamn death.

But Virgil was just too stubborn.

He pushed on - the whirlwind of time forcing his eyes shut. He moved his sluggish arms - pressing his fingers over his ears to try and get rid of the loud sirens in his head.

As he awoke - and he did finally wake, his breathing was shaky and erratic - It was like something had literally, physically taken his breath away. He was winded, and nauseous, and Virgil felt himself dizzy as a new scene shifted into view. A police car zoomed down the road outside. 

“...Love?”

Something was holding his hand. He flinched, wrenching it away in momentary panic.

Virgil forced his eyes open; at first the light was bright, far too bright, but as they adjusted to the sun beaming in through some large windows, he realised he knew exactly who this was. Hair, curly and… longer. His eyes filled with a kind of worry he hadn’t seen directed at him in a long time.

“Roma-...? What day is it?” Virgil asked frantically, trying in vain to catch his breath.

“Uh. Saturday?”

“No, no I mean. Year. Month. I don’t have much-” He breathed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“Oh- you said this would… Virgil, listen to me,” Roman, placed his hands reassuringly on Virgil’s shoulders. And Virgil recognised those eyes. He knew what would happen. “Virgil. You have to let me die.”

Virgil froze - his eyes shot straight up, right into Roman’s. It was the first time he’d looked straight at his eyes; not that he’d had a reason to before, but this was…

“Wh- What… the fuck?” This was insane.

“I’m serious! Just. Trust me.”

“No- I’m sorry, what?” He blinked a few times, before chewing nervously on his lip. Quietly, under his breath, he began mumbling, “If… this is the future… and you’re here… That means it… worked? I saved you?”

“Virgil-”

“But I-”

“Just let me die, Virge.” The sheer amount of urgency in his voice was enough to make anyone’s stomach lurch.

His hands began to go numb - and Virgil managed to get one last look at this future, before he got pulled god knows where. It was almost like a rollercoaster - he’d gotten all the way to the top, and there were only a few seconds left before--

...He’d always hated roller coasters.

The loud, incessant shrieking in the back of his skull certainly sounded a lot more shrill as he was flung backwards. Any amount of control he may have had was gone. Shit. He screwed his eyes shut, hoping for the vertigo to pass - but by the time it did, he was already back in that damn…

Virgil let out a low, irritable sound as he somehow, with whatever strength he had left, opened his heavy eyes.

Thankfully he didn’t have to deal with the sun digging its way into his eyes with the force of a monster truck. Virgil groaned, forcing his chest into a fit of coughing. 

He pulled his hand away, grimacing at the droplets of blood in the middle of his palm.

“Ah, shit…” Virgil croaked, staring blankly at the ceiling before pulling himself out of bed - struggling for a moment to steady himself.

It was fine, he thought, he’d had a whole night to sleep and then some.

God, he didn’t even care about the audition anymore. Rubbing his eyes, he surveyed the room - his blocker was… on the floor.

Where he had left it, just before he went to the audition. In the morning.

His eyes went wide, and Virgil scrambled to look at the date on his phone. His stomach dropped as he read 7:42 pm -- in the evening. He… had an hour.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, Virgil kicked himself into gear. Pulling on a coat, he stuffed his phone deep into one of his pockets, and with everything he had in him - he burst through the door.

He didn’t understand-- He saved him. Virgil saw, with his own two eyes, Roman - sitting in front of him as if nothing had ever fucking happened.

And he had the gall to tell Virgil to do the exact opposite of what he was trying to do.

One life. That’s all he asked. One goddamn stupid freaking life. 

Oh, how those adults would be fawning over him now. “Putting your power to good use, I see!!” Fuck that. Fuck them.

For the first time in his life he could feel the wind in his hair as he raced against time.

He could feel his lungs protest against him as he sped down the street - passersby shot him odd glances that would usually cause him to withdraw - but he didn’t care.

The wind had messed up his hair as he ran, his feet stung, his lungs felt weak and numb but he was filled with a stubborn determination he didn’t have before.

It would take him, what, half an hour, at least? To catch a bus that may or may not even arrive in time, ride it to the station, and somehow get to Roman.

But it was the only choice he had.

He stood slumped against the bus shelter, practically vibrating with the anxious feeling creeping through his chest. As if on cue, a bus came barreling around the corner, its lights blinding him momentarily. He stuck his arm out, and once it had stopped, found his way to the back of the bus.

Virgil slumped down at a window seat in a daze - not caring about the odd looks he was receiving from nearby passengers. Instead, he lifted his hood over his head, and leant solemnly against the window. Watching the world go by.

He further curled into his hoodie, stuffing his hands in its large pockets. The lull in traffic movement was doing little to keep him calm; of course, public transport was never particularly reliable.

But it’s all he had.

Moving his head from the window, he leant his elbows on his knees, and buried his face in his hands.

What the hell did ‘just let me die’ even mean.

He raised his head abruptly - what if. He’d messed with time?

It’s not like he’d ever attempted anything of this sort of scale before. What if it was his fault? What if Roman being there was somehow caused by his meddling with time?

He wrapped his arms around his waist, trying to hide the grimace forming on his lips.

It would make sense, right? If he, some time in the future, messed with the past... 

No. No that couldn’t be it.

...Could it?

He glanced out the window - his eyes widening as he rushed to press the bell. The bus came rocketing to a halt, and Virgil raced out the door and into the damp night. With a deep breath, he began to run.

Just a moment longer - another few blocks and the tracks would be visible. He bit his lip, so as to not cry out in frustration or pain or both - and then he saw it. Saw the tracks - and heard the distant screeching of a train traversing them.

Virgil took a deep breath, fighting to keep his feet going as he fought his way through an old, rusty gate that prevented too-adventurous children from accidentally getting hit.

“R-Roman!” He yelled, as loud as his voice would allow. He could see it. The orange headlights bathing everything in their path in a warm, fiery light-- and a shadow stood in front of it. “N-NO!”

He practically screamed, his voice giving one last push before it completely gave out. The train passed.

Roman was dead.

Again.

Virgil had been lucky enough to never hear a dying cat scream, but he was pretty sure that’s what he sounded like. Out of anger or frustration or -- something else.

“...Fuck,” he whispered into the cool night air, finally letting his knees give way.

He bit his lip.

He’s come all this way, right? He’d done so much for this damned person-- for. For Roman.

“Just let me die, Virge.”

“...Hah. Yeah fucking right.”

...

Something shifts by the tracks. Virgil is gone. //// TAGLIST //// @kolurise @royallyanxious