#In the moment of confrontation with the man who abused them both they both slide into toxic but familiar behaviors

[bijoumikhawal]

NGL I think if you're writing RGU analysis and you call Utena's gender nonconformity sexist you may not be writing good RGU analysis

[plasticferal]

chasing highs | rafe cameron.

summary: you’re his lover, and he’s your brother’s best friend. both the secrecy and his addiction cause tension in your hidden relationship.

authors note: 2.4k words. explicit language, mentions substance abuse, angst and weaponry. 

soundtrack: sober, childish gambino.

you struggle to support the grocery bags that are filled to the brim, and tearing at the seams. you use your elbow to pry the door open with a struggle and quickly dump the brown bags on the counter. you groan at the sight, the house is in disarray. empty glasses, crushed cans and powder residue scatter across the wooden table. the smell of dry grass that’s been tracked along the floors and a contrasting clean linen fills the small space. 

“at least he did the washing,” you run the back of your hand across your forehead, looking around with a fatigued sigh. you begin unpacking everything into cupboards. your arrangement is disturbed by a banging at the door that rattles the wall, it seems desperate. you turn around to pull the handle, revealing rafe. you roll your eyes, murmuring an acknowledgement before leaving the door open for him to let himself in. “country club,”

he steps inside, looking around and acting neurotic. “only barry calls me that,” he counters. “well barry’s not here, so,” you fade off the last part of your sentence, not entirely being interested in conversation. you strain your toes to place a cereal box on the top shelf. rafe silently stands behind you, his chest pressed to your shoulder as he takes it from your hand to put it away, being able to reach with ease. you feel his warm hand crawl around the side of your hip. you grip the edge of the counter that’s underneath you, feeling his breath trickle down your neck.

“i missed you, you know?” he spoke softly. he smelt like faded cologne and dirt, an overall musky scent. it was oddly comforting. 

you shrug him off and turn back to pull vegetables from the bags, excusing his body to reach the fridge. he follows your every action. 

“did i do something?” he looks confused by your dismissive nature, and sudden sharp tone.

“wanna tell me what you’re here for?” you place the packaged food in the cold drawers of the fridge, slamming them closed a little more dramatically than intended. you know his answer, you just need to reassure yourself.

“i just, i just need a little bit-” he speaks apprehensively. you quickly turn around to look at him, your eyes are heavy and filled with dejection. you lick your lips and bob your head with thought, letting out a bitter chuckle.

“he’s all out,” you look up at him, “house is empty.” and once again, you go back to the groceries. rafe stands still for a moment, rubbing his knuckles. you can hear the friction of his skin.

“i know he’s got something in here, y/n,” he looks around, and you can hear the shake in his vowels. his heavy steps take over the creaking floor, a cabinet slamming, making you jump slightly.

“did you not hear me, or are you not listening? there’s nothing in here,” you follow the noise to catch the sight of rafe rummaging through any door that opens. you to reach his shoulder to pull him away from a brown t.v unit, knowing he won’t give up until he’s been physically stopped. the moment you reach forward he pushes your hand away, grunting and bypassing you.

“are you fucking serious?” shock seeping through. he freezes, hands digging through his hair as he bounces back and forth between his feet. he releases air from his nose in frustration, taking a step closer to you.

“i’m sorry, i, i just need you to help me out,” he lends a hand forward in hopes of taking you into his arms, but you step back.

“help you feed the drug addiction that my brother started?”

“god, not right now,” he shakes his head, shutting his eyes tight and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“help you come to realisation that you have a problem?” you continue, knowing that it’s only getting to under his skin more.

“i don’t have a fucking problem!” he screams. not a yell. a scream with chest, an angry reaction. a reaction you could handle from your brother, arguments often occurring in the house. but not from rafe. not from the man you go out of your way to protect and love. 

“get out.” your voice is stern and your eyes are stinging. his tension quickly diminishes. 

“i didn’t mean- i didn’t mean to yell, alright?” he bites his words back, fighting that belligerent tone that previously lashed out. 

“i’m not repeating myself,” you shake your head, looking to the door. 

“sweetheart, i’m sorry. i’m sorry, okay? i’m just on edge,” he rambles on his justification but it only seems to dig himself a deeper hole. 

“yeah, that’s the only reason you’re here,” you mumble to yourself, looking at your hands while you squeeze the tips of your fingers. a distraction.

“what’s wrong with you today? talk to me,” he progresses a step closer, careful not to approach too fast, knowing you’d turn away.

“rafe, i know you have a lot going on but god, i don’t want you to pretend to want me if you care more about chasing a high,” you finally spill how you feel, wanting to take it all back the second you do, not because you didn’t mean it, because you truly didn’t want the confrontation. you look up to see his face drop, mouth open a jar and eye’s grave. 

“are you kidding me? you’re the only fucking person on this earth i care about,” he speaks with a bounce of a laugh, more out of shock and disbelief that he has to say it aloud.

“i know i have a problem, alright?” he hold his palms together and digs his fingers into his chest, the fixed intensity on his face. he licks his lips, rotating back and forth between his heels before pausing to take a deep breath. he tests the waters in stepping closer to you, and this time you let him. you allow him into your space, admittedly craving his touch. his hand cups around your upper arm, sliding down your skin before his index finger slips around the belt loop of your jeans. he pulls your lower half forward until you’re touching bodies, and his forehead rests against the crown of your head.

“i’m gonna try harder, i promise,” his voice is soft, and assertive. it’s difficult to feel indifferently about him. you want a reason to be mad, a reason to get him out of the house before you run into more trouble, but you know he’s being genuine. in that moment, there were no doubts or fears.

“okay,” your voice faint, letting yourself fully sink into his touch. you reach up to drape your hands over his shoulders, fingers playing with the dirty blond hair that falls messily past his ears. 

“i love you, you know that right?” he speaks, mouth now hovering over your lips. you laugh sweetly, pecking the side of his face. “yeah, i do actually,” your arrogant response prompts a poke from him into your side and you push his bicep with a giggle.

“shit, i think i fell in love with you the first day we met,” he pulls your body back to him, swaying you both back and forth. he moves when the gears in his head are ticking, can never keep still. so you allow your body to dance around with him while he ponders.

“you’re lying” you roll your eyes, assuming he was over compensating from the heat you put on him a few minutes prior. “no, i’m not,” he breathes out a smile.

“do you remember that day?” you dip your eyebrow at him.

“of course i do,”

six months earlier.

you slip into that grey shirt that hangs barely past your thighs, causing the shorts underneath to disappear. the heat within the metal surrounded home was intensified by the midday sun, making you irritated and desperate for a cold drink. you grab a can of soda from a cooler, not being your preferred means of refreshment, but better than warm tap water. 

as you wipe the corner of your mouth slightly, you simmer in the feeling of the icy feeling in your palm. your moment of serenity is quickly disturbed by the front door being pushed open harshly, making you freeze in your tracks. your first thought was that it would be barry, but upon realising it was a complete stranger, your next thought was to grab that gun barry keeps under the couch cushion. 

“barry, i need-” the tall mystery man speaks with heavy breaths, not being aware of your presence. 

“who the hell are you?” he sounds mad to be confused, and you’re almost amused by it. given you weren’t afraid of strangers coming and going from the place, it not being an unusual occurrence, typically they have courtesy to knock.

“who are you?” you respond, standing your ground comfortably. the tall male washes his gazes over your body slowly, but snaps out of it swiftly.

“ah, rafe, rafe cameron,” he speaks quick, almost as if he has something more important to say other than his name. you let it sink in for a while, being more than thrilled to waste the home invaders time as you sip your drink. the name sounded familiar, and judging from his attire, you put the pieces together.

“oh! country club, yeah i’ve heard a lot about you,” you chuckle to yourself, knowing barry and him have a love-hate relationship.

“what have you heard?” he probes, face now taut.

“that you have money. no wonder you hang around here so often,” you return that judgemental glance he pulled on you, noting the polo shirt, then back up to his face. his hair fell over it, and his features appeared almost too perfect. it was unnerving. “and yet i’ve never seen you here?” rafe responds, still lost at the interaction he’s enduring.

“you’re way better looking than i thought you’d be,” you try to mutter, but he’s engrossed in your exchange.

“pardon?” he nods his head forward. you smile densely, placing your drink down on the coffee table behind you then waving your hand toward the couch.

“i said take a seat, make yourself comfortable,” completely dismissing his question.

you’re seated on the sinking lounge, while he opts for the single armchair beside it. you’re able to see each other this way. he taps is fingers impatiently against the wooden armrests.

“are you like his girlfriend or something?” he strings together with scepticism. you bite your cheek with a chuckle.

“sister,” you assure. he nods slowly, giving a look that says, ‘my bad’ for getting that wrong.

“good to know,” the words were under his breath but you heard. and you’re sure he wanted you to.

“so did barry say he left something for me, or?” rafe rubs his thighs, shifting in his seat. it slipped your mind, his initial agenda for being there, but you quickly come back to earth. you huff, standing up silently to retrieve the bag that barry did in fact inform you was going to get picked up that day. you walk into the bedroom that has a curtain as a replacement for a door, reluctantly taking it into your hands.

re-entering the room, you throw it onto the table, falling back into your seat. rafe leaps toward it like it was his lifeline. you rolled your eyes, pulling your knees up to your body, hugging them. 

“that shit’s gonna ruin your life,” you voice. 

“yeah well,” he sniffs, tucking the white packet into his pocket.

“you can thank your brother when that happens,” he gives a hopeless response, with attitude. he stands from his seat, and you follow, making your way back over to the front door. 

you wanted to respond, but you’d be getting yourself involved in a sensitive topic. rafe halts between the door frame, his tall figure blocking most of the natural sunlight. you stand in front of him, one hand on the handle prepared to close it behind him, and this time lock it. you’re gazing up at him, wondering why he’s blankly staring at you. 

“what?” you question, toying with the handle, apprehensive of what he’ll respond with. 

“you’re nothing like him, are you?” his voice is gentle, almost like he’s only speaking loud enough for himself to hear it. your eyes are locked and it’s becoming an overwhelming feeling. you break eye contact, looking past him. there’s a sense of sadness that takes over. having always been a juxtaposition to your sibling, but often being associated, mean’t that someone seeing past the stereotype was a pleasant change. you shake your head, indicating a clear no. he nods, understanding. the silence spoke volumes.

“good. you’re too pretty for that shit,” and with that, his back was turned and he was slipping a black helmet on, momentarily returning to a stranger.

present day.

"and i still believe that,” he brushes a loose strand of hair from your eye. “so pretty,”

you’re fascinated by him. by the way you can tell that stash he was losing himself over has left his thoughts, and for a moment you remember the connection you two have. how powerful it was when he was with you, entrenched in your company.

“i know you’re trying, rafe,” you whisper, and his grip tightens. how much you believed your own words was uncertain, but the hope seemed stronger than any doubt.

“you’re the only high i wanna chase,” he uses his thumb to lift your face to him before he trails his touch along your bottom lip, gently prying your mouth open. he leans down and attaches your lips, yourself pushing toward him to deepen the kiss. you feel him smile against your mouth before you cup his jaw lightly to seperate.

“if barry comes home and you’re all over me, he’s gonna put a bullet in your head,” you look into his eyes. they’re glistening and bright, a drastic difference to how dark they were when he first arrived. 

“i’ll take my chances,” before wrapping his warm hand around the curve of your neck, pulling you into another kiss, lasting for what felt an eternity.

the body heat between you intensifies. rafe rolling his hips against you every now and then, urging a response from you, and though you’re aware of the risk of that front door flying open, you dig your nails into his shoulder blades. earning a desperate groan from rafe, you’re utterly intoxicated by his touch, becoming lost and unbothered by any risk or fear.

for a brief moment you understand what he feels when that substance runs through his veins and why he chases it. in your own way, you understand that high.

[sergeantxrogers]

| confused all the time |

Summary: Bucky’s back, and Steve doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (post CA:TWS)

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Angst, violence, slight TW for physical abuse (but not really), just a shit ton of crying because apparently I can’t have a fic without some hurt/comfort

__________________________________

"It was him, I just know it. I would bet my life on it."

Steve ran his hands through his hair for the hundredth time, pacing the floor of your shared bedroom.

You sat in the middle of the bed, legs crossed and frowning. You were worried for him, you really were. Of course, you trusted Steve, with your life practically, and you believed him, but seeing him in this state made you upset.

Apparently, seeing his best friend after decades of thinking he was dead hadn't affected him very positively. There's also the small additional fact that he, the aforementioned best friend, had no idea who Steve was. After finding him on the river bank, last seeing him falling through the sky along with the rubble into the water, lids heavy and barely breathing, soaking wet and cold, it had taken you several days to bring him out of the state of shock he was in.

He had kept insisting it was Bucky who had dragged him out of the water; kept insisting that he saw the hesitation in his eyes before he threw the final punch; kept insisting he had recognized him. You pulled him through every claim with silent nods and the occasional "I know, babe".

Today was different though. It had been 8 days since the incident on the helicarrier, and Steve had been losing his mind bit by bit everyday trying to piece together the how, when and why of the whole situation. Which brought you to right now, watching him shut his eyes and let out deep breaths trying to calm himself down.

"How is it even..," he started quietly. You got up on your knees and moved over to the edge of the bed, leaning a bit to reach out to him.

"I saw him fall," he stated blankly, taking your outstretched hand mindlessly, interlacing your fingers. You bit the inside of your cheek and tilted your head at him.

"Stevie...," you began, and he pulled his hand from yours suddenly.

"I saw him, Y/N, I couldn't see anything else for months. I couldn't sleep because all I could see were his eyes losing hope and all I could hear was him screaming."

You nodded slightly, getting up off the bed and slowly making your way a couple steps over to him.

"So how? How? I know it's him, I just can't, for the life of me, understand how," he said desperately as his head shot up to make eye contact with you. You let out a deep sigh as you grabbed his hands in your own, trying to give him some sense of stability, if only for a split second. You admit, it was very hard to believe, and somewhere in the back of your mind you worried that Steve had lost his mind completely; it had only been a matter of time, honestly, considering everything he'd been through. You had no idea how to talk to him about this, but you knew you should approach the subject lightly.

"Steve, honey, I know you must miss him a lot, and I know it was a horrible thing for you to see him... go like that... but-"

His eyes that were previously burning holes into the floor shot up to meet yours, seemingly furious.

Okay, so maybe it could've been approached even lighter. Oops.

"But? But what?" he challenged, daring you to finish the sentence. In all honestly, you had no idea where you were planning on going with it, but now you were nervous. Very, very nervous.

Steve had this incredulous are you kidding me look he gave people when they said something stupid or rude. It was one of those looks where the disappointment was obvious and whoever it was directed at felt immediate regret. The look of God's Righteous Man and America's Golden Boy, and all that. And you were sure as hell feeling that regret right about now.

"Go on, finish your sentence, honey," he ended on a sarcastic note, pulling away from you to cross his arms. You felt your stomach clench as he leaned his head back to look down at you, raising a brow in waiting.

You swallowed, and shook your head slowly, not knowing what to say. You just wanted to help him, but seeing Bucky like that had made him act like a completely different person ever since. He was frustrated all the time, he tended to roll his eyes at people way more than appropriate, and he always got lost in his thoughts, not registering anything or anyone around him for hours at a time. Nobody knew what to expect from him at any given moment, which is what made your pulse pick up speed. You weren't necessarily afraid of him; Steve would kill himself before he ever deliberately hurt you, but you hated confrontation of any kind.

Steve took a step towards you, and in turn you took a step back. Your brows furrowed as you opened and closed your mouth repeatedly, racking through your brain for something to say to diffuse the situation before it got too out of hand.

"Steve, I'm just... worried about you," you let out honestly.

"You haven't been sleeping... you haven't been eating as much as you should, you've been snapping at people who are just trying to help you..."

You caught the way his nostrils flared slightly at the last part, before he took another wide step in your direction. You took another step back. He did it again, but this time when you stepped back, you were met with the cool surface of the wall against you.

"Baby...," he says lowly, lowering his head to meet your eyes at the same level, "... do you, by any chance, think I'm overreacting? Or do you maybe not believe me?"

Clenching your teeth, you wanted nothing more than to reach your arms out and have him fall into them, but you knew it wasn't the right situation for it. Instead, he placed his hands on either side of your head, trapping you. You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose before speaking.

"No, you know I believe you. You know I'll always be by your side, right or wrong, it's just... you've been so preoccupied with this that it's changing you."

Steve's jaw tensed and he closed his eyes, dropping his head.

"I'm just so confused all the time," he whispered, just barely.

"I know, baby, I know," you cooed, and you brought your hands up to hold his face.

The minute your fingers made contact with his skin, he snapped.

"Stop saying you fucking know, Y/N!" he yelled, slamming the wall to the left of your head with each word, and your heart jumped. You flinched, drawing your hands into yourself immediately, turning your head away from his hand.

"You don't fucking know anything I'm going through, nobody does and I just want some goddamn answers!" he continued furiously.

You felt tears in your eyes and heard Steve take deep breaths. You didn't know what had shocked you more, the fact that Steve swore, the close proximity of his hand to your head or the fact that he had finally cracked, nonetheless, at you.

Your hands shook ever so slightly at your sides as you refused to open your eyes. Steve's labored breaths slowed, and you heard his hands slide down and off the wall. Feeling him step away from you, you opened your eyes just a bit. It was enough to see him looking at you with regret in his eyes. You saw the clarity flood them as his bottom lip trembled; he was about to cry at what he just did.

Your body filled with worry as you surged forwards, arms reaching out to him, but he held his own up and quickly moved away from you. You stood there, both of you worried, eyes filled with tears, hands held up in surrender and hopelessness. It was quiet. Quieter than what you were used to with Steve, and you didn't like it.

Tears ran down his cheeks and he brought one hand up to his hair, pulling at it, a habit he had when he was frustrated with himself. Turning his head away from you, he went to sit on the bed and rested his head in his hands.

You followed him. You knew he didn't plan for that to play out the way it did, so you weren't mad. But you also knew he was mad at himself now, for letting himself go that far. Feeling you come closer, Steve's head shot up from his hands and he quickly shook his head.

"No-" he choked out, holding his hand out to stop you from coming any nearer, afraid of hurting you. The sight of him made your heart hurt, and you felt cool air on the wet streaks your tears left behind on your face as you walked to stand straight in front of him, pushing his hand away.

He kept pushing you back with his hand, and you kept pushing it away from you, determined to hold him even if it was the last thing you'd ever do.

He let out continuous whimpers: "stop", "please don't", "I'm so sorry", "I can't-".

Your hands trembled as you pushed his hand away harder than before.

"Steven, fucking stop it," you said through clenched teeth, pushing at his hands, hating the way the two of you must've looked, and hating the way he was retreating into himself, too scared to even look you in the eyes.

You finally managed to drop to your knees in front of him sitting on the edge of the bed, and you rested your hands on his knees.

"Stevie, it's oka-," you started.

Cutting you off, he took a deep, trembling breath and slid off the bed. His legs on either side of you, head hanging low, he timidly ran his hands up your thighs and over your hips, bringing them to rest loosely on your waist. Grabbing his head and lifting it so you could look at him better, he let out a deep, pained whine when his eyes met your own.

"Everything is just so much," he whispered and brought his head forward to rest against your chest, moving his arms to wrap around your waist. Another wave of tears washed over you and you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck, placing a soft kiss to his hair.

"I'm just so tired," he whined out into your chest, the words vibrating deep in your soul, and you pinched your eyes shut to keep anymore new tears from falling.

Nodding silently, you stroked the back of his head softly.

You placed another kiss on his head, humming through it, rocking side to side slowly. He was going to beat himself up about this for a long, long time, you just knew it. Your travelled down to his back, tracing patterns on it as his breath steadied.

"It's okay... it's okay," you mumbled into his hair, barely audible, but the kisses you felt him leaving on your chest showed you he heard.

You sat there for an hour, rocking him back and forth, until he fell asleep.

You sat there for another as he slept, until your back was sore and your legs were numb.

You didn't care though, Steve had done the same and more for you countless of times. He was always there, as were you.

No, you didn't understand what he was going through, he was right about that part. But, feeling his body relax into yours, feeling the grip he had on your waist loosen, feeling his breath go steady, feeling the wet spots on your shirt where his tears had soaked through, you were determined to try.

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 53

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 3,327

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

Author’s Note: The title for this chapter will make more sense once you read it (as will the gif choice), and I am SO excited for y’all to read this one *smirks*

A Ship Has Sailed 

By the time the Sanctuary appeared through the trees, an orange halo had formed where the sun was edging towards the horizon. In another hour that orange would be joined with pink, and they would take over all of the remaining blue before being consumed by the black of night. The lighting gave the large building a bit of a glow, but it also accentuated shadows and dark corners, making them appear longer. 

It served as a metaphorical reminder of whatever was happening between you and Negan. There had been a warm glow inside of you for the past 24 hours, since the resolution of the pregnancy test argument, and you wanted nothing more than to bask in the beauty of it. However, there were also still shadows and dark corners, parts that you were ignoring or straight up avoiding. You knew they wouldn’t go away on their own, no matter how wonderful the glow, and only you and Negan could confront those shadows together. The question was if confronting them would make them disappear...or cause them to grow until they completely overtook that glow, like a cloudy night with no stars. 

Your subconscious pulled out a large stick and began popping the intrusive thought bubbles, wanting no part of this damper on what had been a wonderful day. Agreeing for the moment, you tabled the thoughts, attention instead focusing on the upcoming front gate. There was a different guard on duty than when you left, due to the 6pm shift change that allowed both day and night guards the opportunity to attend dinner. But that wasn’t what had your attention; no, what you were fixated on was the fact that, despite being only a few feet away from said gate, Negan was still holding your hand. 

The guard’s eyes were watching as you approached, so to pull away now would be even more obvious. Instead, you tried not to appear as though every muscle in your body was tensed with uncertainty as the gate swung open and you walked past. Negan only gave a slight nod of acknowledgement to the guard, before continuing on as if nothing had happened. 

Sliding the guard a look out of the corner of your eye, you saw with a start that he was looking right back at you. Eyes darting forward, you tried to copy Negan’s aloof demeanor and not look as though it was taking all of your mental energy to remember how to walk like a normal human being and not trip over air. Nothing to see here, my guy. Just a typical evening stroll with your volatile and totally-not-holding-my-hand-as-if-we’re-a-couple leader. 

Negan only let go of your hand when reaching the front door of the Sanctuary, so that he could pull open the heavy metal. He then stood back, arm braced at shoulder level to hold the door, and it took a good ten seconds of you awkwardly standing there to realize that he was waiting for you to go in first. Holy crap, Negan was being chivalrous, and in public! Your subconscious squealed at the gesture and darted inside, while your brain tipped its hat to him in thanks before also walking in. Still a bit stunned over what was now two blatantly affectionate gestures in front of anyone who happened to be watching, you silently ducked under his arm and entered the building. 

Adding to your shock, once he had followed you inside and shut the door, he put a palm on your lower back to guide you down the hallway. The heat from his hand practically singed the thin fabric of your shirt with its silent possession, and it was so distracting that you almost missed it when he started making the turn to the stairwell that would lead back to his room. You felt a surge of relief that he wasn’t just sending you back to your own room after the cold shoulder moment in the woods, and some of the ice shards that had earlier formed around your heart as protection started to thaw. 

“Hold on,” you said, putting a gentle hand on his forearm. When he looked down in question, you added, “Ben said he’d leave us some dinner leftovers in the kitchen’s fridge.”

You were glad that he didn’t make a smartass quip at the mention of Ben, instead silently turning with you down a different hallway that led to the kitchen, his warm hand still present. You tensed a bit when passing a few community members in the hall, but if they noticed his touch, they didn’t show it. Instead, they were too busy dropping to their knees and lowering their heads in greeting. Your subconscious loved this, strutting past as if a royal before its subjects. Negan barely acknowledged them, while you felt distinctly uncomfortable and hoped to never become desensitized to such an unsettling sight.

Arriving at the cafeteria, you entered the large empty space, which was dimly lit due to the fading evening light coming in from the windows. Passing the rows of tables and pushing open the swinging doors to the kitchen, you were surprised to see that, unlike in the cafeteria, the overhead lights were still on in here. Since the dish washers were usually the last to leave, you assumed they had forgotten to flick off the lights on their way out. You’d make sure to have a discussion with them tomorrow, since it was important not to waste precious electricity here. Negan and his engineering team might have a fancy setup going on that allowed such luxuries as working lights, but that didn’t mean it was okay to abuse the privilege.

Crossing the tiled floor to the fridge, you had just opened the door and pulled out two small plastic containers of leftover tuna noodle casserole when there was a distinct and sudden thump. Whirling around, you glanced over at Negan, even though it was obvious he hadn’t made the noise. His gaze was fixed on the entrance to the pantry, which was located at the back of the kitchen. It was apparent the sound had come from that direction, and it was too loud to have been caused by a rodent or a box falling over. No, it had definitely been more of a human-sized thump. Since no one was supposed to be in the kitchen after-hours, the thought of an intruder made a lump of fear rise in your throat.

Negan’s gloved hands were now both wrapped around Lucille, and she hovered a few inches off his shoulder in the locked-and-loaded position as he confidently yet stealthily started across the kitchen. You followed a couple of feet behind, ready to throw the leftover casserole at any potential thief or walkers as a distraction so that Negan could beat them to death, if needed. You also still clutched Ricardo in your other hand, if the leftovers-to-the-face and Lucille-for-dessert plan wasn’t enough. You tensed for action when Negan’s own hands tightened on the bat and he stepped into the pantry’s entryway. 

“Don’t fucking move,” he growled in a voice so deadly that it would’ve caused bladder complications if you were on the receiving end of it.

A clatter of cans and a muffled, “Shit!” came from the pantry. You saw Negan’s eyes go wide in shock, his mouth even dropping slightly open as the hands on Lucille relaxed and lowered. Now curious as hell, you came up behind him, standing on tiptoes and peeking over his shoulder for a view into the pantry. The sight that met your eyes almost made you drop both Ricardo and the food. 

The first thing you registered was the tall, broad man who was quickly pulling his shirt down over his head to cover a well-muscled, not to mention well-furred, chest. Your brain recognized that it was Simon and was wondering what the hell he was doing undressing in the pantry, when movement behind him caught your attention. The second, slightly shorter figure was running nervous fingers through his disheveled hair and looked about to vomit with fear at being caught. Then his eyes traveled over Negan’s shoulder and saw you were also standing there, and a flash of relief came across his face.

Since it was obvious there was no actual threat to your safety, you came up beside Negan and cleared your throat awkwardly before saying, “Hiya, Ben. Fancy seeing you here this late.”

His face was so flushed that it was a wonder steam wasn’t coming off his skin, but he played along with your attempt to diffuse the situation. His voice came out quiet and croaky when he said, “Yea, uh, must’ve lost track of time.” 

You wanted to rush forward with a squeal and give him a reassuring hug and high five for what had obviously been a hot and heavy make-out session with the man he’d been hardcore crushing on. However, you also realized that this situation could go downhill very quickly, depending on how Negan reacted to the revelation. There was also the uncertainty about how Simon would handle this, since you had no clue how open about his sexual interests he might or might not be. 

That latter question was quickly answered when Simon put a proprietary arm around Ben’s waist, looked at Negan with a huge, good ol’ boy grin, and said, “Apologies for the lack of professional conduct. I dropped by to see how the dinner clean-up was going and, well, you know how one thing can lead to another.”

He said the last with a bit of a glint in his eye, as if daring Negan to deny that yes, he did indeed know how one thing could lead to another, including here in this very kitchen. At least Simon and Ben had been smart enough to conceal themselves in the pantry, rather than fuck right on the counter for all to see, the way you and Negan had just a couple nights ago. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on fucking duty somewhere?” Negan asked, voice low and full of threat. If Simon was currently leaving a guard post unattended, you knew he was in for a world of hurt. 

However, instead of looking worried, the mustachioed grin got even wider as he joyfully said, “Nope! I switched out with Luis at 6, so my evening is free as a bird.”

You had to give the man credit for appearing so relaxed and carefree, especially with a boss who could literally remove his head with a hefty swing standing semi-pissed in front of him. You weren’t sure if Simon was just that confident, or if he was that unhinged. You hoped, for Ben’s sake, that it was the former. 

Negan unflinchingly stared Simon down for a couple of long seconds, until the other man quickly lost the grin and dutifully lowered his gaze to the floor. A glance at Ben showed he was wringing his hands together nervously and also staring down at the ground, as if hoping it would open up and swallow him whole.

Satisfied at the other men’s show of deference, Negan finally growled out, “The fuck is it with all my fucking Saviors sneaking around at night to fuck the fucking kitchen staff.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and marched back across the kitchen, towards the exit. Giving one last (and hopefully reassuring) look at a still-frozen-in-worry Ben, you scurried after him, stopping briefly at the cupboards to grab two forks and cups. When he reached the swinging doors and held them open for you to exit first, he threw sternly back over his shoulder, “You better fucking disinfect any surfaces you fucking desecrated.”

He belied his terse tone by throwing a wink and smirk in your direction, though Simon and Ben obviously wouldn’t be able to see it. Hoping that his nonverbals were a more telling predictor of how he felt about all of this than his verbals had been, you both crossed and exited the cafeteria, before starting the trek up to his private rooms. 

You passed a few more community members in the halls, but if they found the sight of you and their leader walking together strange, you were too consumed with what had just happened in the kitchen to notice or care. It was obvious that Negan also had no fucks to give about being seen with you, since he twirled Lucille and whistled in that playful yet threatening way that only he could pull off.

When you reached his rooms, he led the way into his bedroom and over to the little black table with two white armchairs. Setting down the containers and forks on the table, and propping Ricardo up against the nearby armoire, you went into the bathroom to fill the two glasses in the sink. It was only when you had returned and settled into the chair to eat that you realized your mistake.

“Shit,” you blurted, earning an eyebrow raise from the man already shoveling the first forkful of casserole into his mouth. “We didn’t heat it up.”

Giving an uncaring shrug, he said around the mouthful, “It’s tuna and noodles. Tastes fucking fine cold.” 

Taking a tentative bite, you found that he was correct. Sure, it wasn’t as gooey and creamy as when warm, but the flavor was still pretty darn good, so you forgave your lack of foresight in the face of processing the Ben and Simon situation.

The two of you ate in companionable silence, and you wondered if Negan’s thoughts were as preoccupied with the events in the kitchen as yours were. Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long to learn that the answer was yes, Negan was definitely thinking about it. Out of nowhere, he let out a loud bark of laughter, causing you to jump and almost choke on the noodle you had been chewing. 

At your questioning look, he said, “I’m just remembering the fucking priceless look on ol’ Benny Boy’s face when he saw me standing in that fucking entryway.”

Hoping that his humorous response was a positive thing, and that Ben wasn’t further on Negan’s shit list, you questioned, “So you’re not upset about him messing around with one of your most devoted Saviors?”

Giving a quick shake of his head, he stabbed more noodles with his fork. “Fuck no. Simon deserves a bit of fucking fun.”

“What if it’s more than just fun to them?” 

You couldn’t help the question, trying to figure out just how okay with all of this Negan really was. You knew that it wasn’t only the fact that Ben had been caught in such a compromising and unprofessional position, but also that he had been caught with another man that could make this a potentially unsafe situation for him. Ben had always seemed to keep his interest in both men and women fairly quiet, which was his right to do so. If Negan showed any hint of discrimination, or gave any inclination that he would out Ben to the community, then you wouldn’t hesitate to rain holy hell down on him. 

Instead, Negan’s unexpected response was, “Well then, if it’s the real deal, I’ll throw them a fucking congratulations party.” 

Unable to hide your look of pleasant surprise, he said, “What? People deserve to find some fucking happiness where they can in this dreary-as-shit world we’re livin’ in. So long as they continue to get their fucking duties done, and follow my fucking rules, I don’t give a shit who they play ‘hide the salami’ with.”

You were a bit stunned at his progressive and open-minded thinking, and it only caused you to warm towards him even more. It also made you want to stop being so quick to see the worst in him, and the worst in yourself for liking him so much. Pushing that self-doubt from earlier in the woods even further to the back of your head, your subconscious jammed it down into a metal box so your brain could click it shut with a padlock. There it would stay, along with all the other questions still left unanswered between you and Negan, until you felt more ready to open it up and deal with them.

Finishing the last bite of casserole and feeling pleasantly full, you then registered that another basic need wasn’t being met: cleanliness. You felt a bit grimy from being out in the woods, not to mention the layer of dried sweat on your skin from both wandering around a hot forest and engaging in some extra-strenuous activities with Negan. 

“Is it alright if I use your shower?”

You swore Negan’s eyes darkened a shade at that, and his voice sounded a bit lower than usual when he answered. “What’s mine is yours, doll.”

Wow. Pretty sure your subconscious had just slithered to the floor in a pile of goo at the promise in both the words and his tone. 

Rising on now-wobbly legs from the chair, you started towards the bathroom. Before you could overanalyze or second-guess the decision to death, you whipped the shirt up over your head and tossed it to the floor. Glancing back over your shoulder at him, you gave a playful grin and unhooked your bra while saying, “Care to join me?”

He was up out of the chair before the words even fully left your lips, and you had barely made it across the threshold of the bathroom before he was on you. Arms snagging around your waist, he turned you into him and crashed his lips down on yours.

The bathroom became littered with clothes as you hurriedly pulled them off each other before stumbling back into his massive shower. You abruptly yelped when he first turned on the water, the temperature borderline freezing as it pelted down on your bare back. He gave a husky chuckle and reached over to adjust the knobs, and you sighed in satisfaction when the stream heated up against your chilled flesh. 

Trailing greedy hands across his warm skin, you followed the path of a water droplet down his chest while thinking back to the various times you had fantasized about this very moment, about him naked and wet and yours. When he bent down for a kiss, you swore he poured not just his desire but also, dare you say it, his emotions into the kiss. You had felt these tiny hints of vulnerability he was trying to share with you throughout the entire day, ever since waking up in your bed this morning. He was trying to show that although he was terrifyingly deadly and intimidating as fuck with everyone else, he could be caring and gentle with you. 

And how had you reacted? By shutting down and questioning his motives. There was a part of you that still refused to fully believe this would last, but maybe it was time to start enjoying it while you could, and not think too much about tomorrow. Suddenly, you wanted to reciprocate, to show that you had noticed how hard he had been trying to connect. And while maybe words would work, you and Negan’s communication skills had always been more about nonverbals and actions. 

Pulling back from the kiss and visually drinking him in, you were caught off guard for the millionth time by how god damn attractive he was. His hair was damp from the spray, and you wanted to lick the water droplets clinging to his neck and shoulders. However, you had another destination in mind, one that you had yet to explore but didn’t want to leave unattended any longer.

Looking up into his tawny eyes, you gave a sly smile and whispered, “Just so you know, this is the only reason I will ever kneel for you.”

Then, with gazes still locked, you fell to your knees on the wet tile...and took his cock in your mouth.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

[daddynegandesires]

Secrets chapter 3

Summary: ellies birthday and mothers day is coming up as emotions and pent up anger are spiraling between you, negan, and jack while more and more secrets begin to unfold.

18+

Warming: nsfw, fluff, kink, depression, abuse

Sorry for the late update on this chapter its kind of a short one ive just have been going through some personal things and havent found the motivation to finish this one yet.❤ i hope you all like it!❤

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

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

You and negan haven't spoke in a few days ellies birthday is today and you have been busy decorating. Negan is suppose to be picking up the cake at the store. jack has returned back from his "business trip" withq an odd hickey on his neck that keeps gawking at you everytime you speak to him. You want to avoid conflict because you arent so innocent yourself after what happen with negan last time you saw him but thats just not who you are....you have to confront him but you also dont want to ruin ellies day infront of everyone.

"Hey jack, do you mind helping me with this streamer" you called out to him from the ladder

"Sure hun" he took the streamer from your hand taping it up to the wall

"Thank you.....uh negan should be here soon with her cake" you said folding up the step ladder

"I could of went and grabbed it" he scoffs

"I uh..well sorry i didnt know it was a big deal" you try to laugh it off politely

"Dont even worry about it...." He walks past you ramming his ahoulder into you heading outside

Negan had arrive with the cake and so did a few of ellies friends and your mother. You and your mothers relationship really has never been that great but you try to make peace with it for ellies sake. Negan came in with a huge gift box all wrapped in pink with a bow.

" i thought we agreed nothing crazy" you whispered to him

"Whaat...can i not spoil my girl" negan grins at you

Ellie runs out of her room her eyes light up at the size of the gift her dad got her.

"Mommy look at this...its humongo!" She says messing with the bow

"I see honey..dont mess with it yet" you giggle

"Where is your boy toy.." His tongue slides across his bottom lip

You kept silent while negan stared you down waiting for a response but nothing came out his eyes were burning a hole through you he always knew when shit was up.

"Ah i see....the silent treatment" folding his arms

Negan walks off to go play with ellie and say hello to a few people when your mother walks up to you.

"Hey mom..." You say emotionless

"What is negan doing here.." She asks

"Mom...please dont. Thats ellies dad. I told you we are trying to work on things for ellies sake" you say annoyed.

"Well...once a cheater always a cheater. Im just saying" as she sips on her cup of wine walking away

A few hours have passed and ellie got to blow out her candles and eat cake. Jack still hasnt said much to you throughout the whole party and its more than obvious that negan is starting to catch on im just hoping he doesn't notice the hicky on his neck. Ellie has been bugging you about negans gift so you were going to let her open it.

"Ellie open it up over here sweetie so everyone can see" you say smiling

Ellie quikly rips the hot pink rapping paper off and squeals in excitement as she realizes its a electric scooter that she has been wanting. Negan was standing by your side with his hand sneakily rested on your lower back with a huge smile on his face.

"Oh my god you got me that scooter!!" Ellie begins jumping up and down

"Negan....those cost alot" you whispered in his ear

"dont worry about it....i got it taken car of" he says sternly

"Lets take it outside!!" Negans runs over and picks it up in excitment with all of the kids following him outside to ride on the scooter. You were throwing away dirty plates when jack came up to you

"So you want to explain why you and negan have been so close" he quietly says to you

You instantly start to burn with rage as he asks you that knowing he has been keeping things from you too and the fact his assistant melissa has been speaking to him inappropriately. You were holing the knife in your hand for cutting the cake reminding you of the incident that happened between you and negan once you found out he was cheating. you froze and gripped tightly on the knife thinking of how to approach this.

"You're a fucking whore..." He spat at you

"Jack.....get the fuck away from me" you quietly say

"Yeah i bet thats what you want.....so he can fuck you" he says through gritted teeth

"Its. Ellies. Birthday.....fucking knock it off we can settle this later" you slowly set the knife down unclenching your fist

Jack stands there glaring at you with his jaw clecnhed before giving up and walking away. You let out a sigh of relief and pour yourself a glass of wine. You take a sip closing your eyes feeling like everything is going in slomotion in that moment when you here yelling outside and notice its negan and jack. You drop your glass spilling your wine everywhere running outside.

"Back the fuck off man!" Jack yells with his fist balled up

"Ohh...you really want to go there dude..." Negan laughs

"You are fucking (y/n) and i know it!" Jack lunges towards him throwing a punch hitting negan in the face making him stumble

Negan catches his balace reaching up to his face touching where jack punched him in the mouth realizing he is bleeding negan licks the blood off his lips and lets out a sinister almost scary deep chuckle.

"Oh...you fucked up." Negan lunges towards jack football tackling him to the ground he starts punching jack over and over again blood all over his fists

"Negan!!!...no! Stop!" You rush over trying to pry negan off of jack

"Negan stop for ellie please!" You begin to cry struggling to finally get him off causing you to fall backwards with negan on you

"You are a dead fucking man!....now get the fuck off my property..." Negan threats

You push negan off to go check on jack you try to get jack to respond to you and see if he is okay but he just spits in your face shoving you away causing you to fall before you know it negan charges back over and starts beating the shit out of him all you can do is scream at them and cry. Through tear filled eyes you notice the cops rushing up the street pulling into the drive way the last thing you remember is the cops pulling negan off and everything went black.

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

Jack and negan were both arrested but were soon let go apparently i had fainted due to stress and dehydration they kept me in the hospital until i was better. You kicked jack out of the house and you haven't spoke to negan since ellies birthday. Things have been rough being alone for ahwile and ellie was getting upset about not seeing her dad.

Text from negan:

Hey....im coming by

You looked at your phone to see a text from negan but you just ignored it and continued to cook some food for ellie. There was a knock at the door you sighed annoyingly before unlocking the deadbolt and opening the door to negans innocent brown eyes staring back at you. before you could give him a chance to speak you shut the door in his face but he quickly caught it in time with his foot in the doorway before it closed.

"Negan...ellie should be home. She is still upset" you sigh

"Thats okay i want to make it up to you two" he says pushing the door open coming inside

You just stand there silent with your arms crossed untill you hear ellies bus coming down the road and before you know it she busts through the door yelling.

"Mommmyyyy! Happy mothers dayzz!" Ellies runs up to you handing you a picture she made at school

"Awe...thank you sweet heart its gorgeous" you took the pink paper from her smiling and when to hang it on the fridge

"Look i want to take you two out to dinner...its mothers day and you deserve it..look i know i fucked up but that asshole had it coming" negan says

"Negan dont.....go ask Ellie she is the real one you need to be apologizing to not me" you stare at the ground avoiding eye contact.

"Ohh ellie daddy wants to talk to you!" He walks off to her room

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

You, negan, and ellie were all out at dinner at your favorite steakhouse enjoying your meal when the waiter brought a bottle of wine

"Negan....i cant afford that" you quietly say

"Ah ah....you deserve it i mean you are the best mom ever" he winks at you popping the lid off pouring wine into your glass

"Thanks..." You shyly say before taking a sip

"So.....the school fired me" negan cleared his throat

You choked on your drink hearing the words that had just came out of negans mouth

"What?..how come" you say wipping wine off your chin

"Well....they dont want me as a coach anymore since what happened at ellies birthday. They say its wildly inappropriate and against policy to still have me there" he bites in his steak

"What are you going to do..." You ask worried

"Ohhh no biggie i always have things taken care of" he smiles at you

"If you need anything im here..." You look up at him

" i know....thank you" he reaches across the table holding your hand

The three of you finish up dinner afterwards you all go for a late walk through the park. It felt nice to get out and have some fresh air after what happended at the party. Your phone kept buzzing off the hook of texts from jack you kept trying to hide it from negan to not let him worry. You felt bad hiding it from negan but you knew it would start a fight but you also didnt want to let jack go without some talking. Negan took you and ellie back home ellie ran inside and got ready for bed.

"I know he is talking to you..." Negan says sternly while placing one hand against the wall beside your head

"Negan....can we not talk about this right now" you say turning your head away from him

"No!...you will look at me when im speaking to you" negan grabs ahold of your chin forcing you to look at him

"Yes....yes im still talking to him.." You say embarassed

"Why....he is such a load of whoreshit....im standing right infront of you (y/n)...im here now! Take me back please. Im an honest man now!" Negan growls

" get...off of me!" You scream and shove him away from you and begin to walk angrily down the road

"(Y/n) get back here now!...where the fuck do you think you are going!" Negan trys to catch up with you when it suddenly starts raining

"Negan stop trying so hard!...this is going nowhere!" You say crying

"Why do you keep saying that!...i want this to work!" Negan finally catches up to you grabbing you by the arm spinning you around

"......well i dont..." You choked on those words as they slipped out of your mouth it felt like your heart had just stopped for a split second it killed you to say that to negan but it had to be done

"You....dont want this." He said quietly and upset with rain drops running down his perfect face

"Negan....i.... I cant. You have to let me go" you say caressing his face" you said giving him a half smile with a single tear rolling down your cheek

"W....what about ellie.....thats my babygirl" Negan begans to tear up pulling you into a hug

"You can still be in ellies life.....i start therapy next tuesday" you say ending the hug

"You can talk to me (y/n)" negan sniffles

"There are just things that just feel easier letting out to a stranger sometimes..."

"I love you....." Negan says bresthlessly

"....i love you too but from a distance.....i have boundaries set now negan"

You and negan began to walk back to the house getting inside you hand him a towel to dry himself off. Negan follows you to the bedroom.

"There are still some of your clothes in the closet...." You say facing away from him

"You still have some of my old clothes here...." Negan opens the door seeing his shirts still hanging in the same spot before he moved out

"I didnt know if you still wanted them or not..." You say nervously

"Its okay. Thank you" negan takes off his soaking wet shirt switching it out with an old faded band shirt

"You can sleep on the couch if you would like..." You offer him

"You sure you are going to be okay with that?" He raises an eyebrow at you

"Yeah....plus its been lonely here just me and ellie" you chuckle handing him a blanket

Negan takes the blanket from you before turing around to open the bedroom door to leave. As soon as the door shut you quietly sobbed making sure it wasnt loud enough for negan to hear. You wiped your tears away before getting yourself ready for bed. You tossed and turned for most of the night your head filled with unnecessary thoughts and cenarios. You just wanted all of this pain to go away you dont know what you are doing with yourself anymore the only thing that keeps you holding on is ellie and negan.

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

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

[megan-is-mia]

I just saw your new prompt list and I hope it's still available for reqs! If not feel free to shot this ask down

I was thinking about prompt number 34 with either Azul or Sebek(?) with a fem!marrionette s/o. I don't know why, but I just thought it would be neat if the s/o is probably based off of Pinocchio, like she's physically a human but she's actually a puppet and her magical pen (or more specifically the gem?) Is what makes her supposedly human.

Sorry for drabbling too much about this, I had too much inspo after rewatching Pinocchio,, OTL

(i tried to get the Pinocchio in but I couldn't get it to work so in compensation you can have both Sebek and Azul) 34. “Let me make love to you, over and over and over again. I just want to make you feel loved. Please.” (Yandere! Azul Ashengrotto x Fem S/o x Yandere! Sebek! Zigvolt) (WARNING NON-CON AND NSFW AHEAD) When (Y/n) signed that contract she had thought maybe her troubles would be over. Since the start of the new term, she had been stalked around campus. She knew exactly who it was dogging her every step: Sebek Zigvolt. Either he was very bad at being stealthy or he wanted her to know he was following her around and frankly she wasn’t sure which was worse. For almost as long as he’d been stalking her, she’d been trying to find a way to make him stop. She tried confronting him about his behavior, no luck. Her acknowledging his actions only seemed to egg him on. She tried tattling on him to his dorm-head, no dice there either. Oh sure it worked in the short-term and she had a day or two of peace before Sebek was back on her tail. (Y/n) couldn't bring herself to bother the Diasomnia dorm-leader again especially since it had taken so much courage to speak to him once. She was running out of options and starting to lose sleep when an idea came to her.

The fact that Azul Ashengrotto could make wishes come true for a price was common knowledge at the school. Yet the young woman had been reluctant to try and enlist his help. They didn't exactly have the best history with each other, as in the octopus had confessed to her last term and she’d had to turn him down in front of a crowd. Despite this fact, (Y/n) was sure they could be civil with each other and work something out. At this point, she was considering life-long enslavement preferable to dealing with Sebek. Even so, she had to have seen something like this coming. Azul seemed unsurprised to see her in his office almost as if he was expecting her. However, in her distress, she’d ignored these warning signs as she made her plea to the young man. She didn't want to be stalked by Sebek anymore and in return, she was willing to pay whatever price the merman set for her. (Y/n) skimmed through the contract that was set in front of her before grabbing a pen and signing her name on the dotted line. As she made the final flourish to finish her name, she knew she had made a grave mistake. She became even more certain of this fact as Azul’s mouth broke into a huge grin and the sound of knocking came from outside the office door. The octopus called out for the person outside to come in and (Y/n) let out a horrified gasp as that mystery person: it was Sebek! The crocodile-fae strode over to the desk and pushed the girl against it with an audible bump as her body made contact. 

“How are you here!? I signed a contract to make you leave me alone!” (Y/n) squeaked staring bug-eyed at Sebek. “Actually Angelfish, that's not what you agreed to at all” Azul said looking down at the girl as she was forced to lay on the desk by the green-haired fae. “The contract you signed was an engagement contract with Zigvolt here. After all, it's not stalking if you’re in a relationship with each other” the octopus added with a smirk as he ran his fingers through her hair. “B-b-but why? Why would you do that Azul?” (Y/n) said, feeling tears well up in her eyes as Sebek ripped the buttons off her uniform jacket. “Because I love you Angelfish, your rejection of my feelings last term really hurt you know. But I didn't let that minor setback keep me down, and I began planning how to fix this situation. That's when Zigvolt here came to me with his own request, he wanted me to make him a love potion to use on you” Azul said with a chuckle. “So the two of us hatched a plan, he’d pressure you into coming to me and I’d make sure you could never leave either of us” Azul finished before beginning to help Sebek get rid of (Y/n)’s clothes so she was lying bare on the desk. For a moment both males just stared in awe at the girl before jolting back into action and pulling their pants down to free their cocks. “No wait please! Don’t do this!” the young woman said quickly catching onto what the two males wanted to do to her now

“Let me make love to you, over and over and over again” Sebek whispered, lining his cock up with the girl’s cunt before sinking into her in one slow motion. “I just want to make you feel loved. Please, let me make you feel loved” Azul said, coaxing (Y/n)’s mouth open and sliding his dick into her mouth until her throat was blocked by the intrusion. Both men began using their mutual darling’s holes to pleasure themselves, barely paying any mind to the pain noises she made as her insides were abused. They’d have plenty of chances in the future to make her feel really good. After all the contract she signed bound her to them completely. If she tried to run or refuse them in any way she would suffer unimaginable pain. It was only fair that she suffered so, for they had suffered just as much if not more from her callous refusals of their affections before today. Azul and Sebek would teach (Y/n) how to be a good partner for them whether she liked it or not, and one day she’d thank them... 

THE END

[enigma-im]

Too Good at Goodbyes

Rating: Teen Relationship: Dragon x F!Human Warning: Communication, Breakup, Makeup, Past Abuse, Fluff, Comfort

Word Count: 2370

       Breaking up with a stubborn dragon who isn't in agreement and demands confrontation.

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

Confrontation is such a scary thing. To verbally or physically confront someone is terrifying. Though I'd rather fight someone than explain my feelings, both are still scary. I just don't want to go over such mundane things like my feelings. If I know what the outcome is going to be then…what's the point?

Dracchus has always been a stubborn man. It's no surprise that he wouldn't take my leaving without a fight. Though leaving without much to say was mostly my bad. Packing up my stuff and walking away with a 'this isn't working' was a coward's way out, but I stand by it. It's true though, things haven't been working out with us lately. We have been distant and closed off from one another, the logical conclusion felt like just end it instead of prolonging the suffering. Right?

As I load into my car and I listen to his huffs and puffs-to put it lightly- I fight off the urge to turn back to him. I could at least talk with him, explain my side. I shake my head from the idea, noticing the redundancy of speaking when it's all over anyway. Dracchus marches around his cave, shouting and blowing smoke from his nose. It's almost cute the way he swats at it. He tries to walk towards the car but clenches his jaw and stomps away. His tail flicks with clear agitation.

I give one last look before opening the car door. As the click echoes up towards Dracchus he looks to me. Smoke bellows out his nostrils like a chimney, giving a terrifying look to his clenched up face.

"This isn't done," he calls out," but you can run for now."

I sigh at his theatrics," I'm sorry, Dracchus, it's over. It was fun while it lasted but now we just have to accept this."

"you are a fool," he sneers," coward above all else." I bite back the urge to yell, to call him worse names, though I know it's what he wants. The stubborn man wants me to react but I can't bring myself to give him the satisfaction.

"Bye, Dracchus," I sigh, getting into the car.

I drive off to my parent's house, trying my damndest to fight off the intrusive thoughts. It's over, it's done, no use thinking over it. I know I'll miss him, I know I'll want him around, but it would be pointless. Forget and move on, that's how all my relationships go.

I shut down as I pull into my parents' driveway, automatically grabbing my things and heading upstairs. I do all I can as a way to distract myself. Putting up my clothes, sorting through social media, playing games, making dinner. It all works for the most part, though I feel rather blank while doing it. My head feels like it's been system rebooted, wiped of previous bugs and glitches to start anew.

When I attempt to sleep that night is when my brain begins to wander. It's hard to escape yourself when all you have is your thoughts. I try putting on background noise, listening to the television in hopes of passing out to a random show. No such luck as flashbacks of our time together attempts to break me into sobs.

I hang on by a thread as I manage to rest, that is until there is a tapping at my window. I ignore it, rolling over with the blanket thrown over my head. The tapping starts again, getting more frequent till I angrily toss the covers aside and lunge for the curtains.

Tossing them aside to reveal the culprit I sigh at who I see. Though shrunken to fit on my roof, it's not hard to tell who it is.

"Dracchus," I sigh. I reach for the curtains, blocking out the problem like I've done all day. Before I get the chance he lifts the window, sliding it up enough to slither inside.

"Don't," he growls as he crawls onto the bed, backing me up until he has room.

" what are you doing here," I answer nearly defeated. It's exhausting to have him here, the feelings and thoughts knocking at the backdoor of my brain.

"to talk, that should be obvious," he answers," so are you going to answer my questions or do I have to drag you out your room to take you back to our house?" ire bubbles in my chest, latching onto the frayed nerves that he set off with his entrance. He has no business coming into my room like this. He is no longer my boyfriend or even my friend.

"What questions could you possibly have that couldn't wait till morning," I fold my arms, glaring at him with as much seething rage as I could.

"What questions? Have you not been listening," he scoffs," why did you break up with me? That's the main question. Why haven't you talked to me if you were so unhappy? Why ditch me so quickly? I thought everything was fine, but clearly, you haven't. so I ask why and what can we do to salvage this?"

"Salvage this," I bark in laughter," it's over, ok? I haven't been happy with you for a while and it felt best to end it. Is that such a difficult concept to understand? None of my exes had an issue with it."

"Because your exes were scum who didn't give a fuck about you, they took the out because they wanted the out. I do not want an out, I want to talk about this like fucking adults but you're too busy acting like a child," he chides. The insult actually stings, feeling more like a child in the tantrum boiling under my skin.

"I'm the child? Bold coming from a guy who sneaks in my room because he's too scared of my parents," I snap back.

"I'm not scared of your parents, they are scared of me. How well you think that will go over if I come to the front door and your dad is cocked and ready to blast off my limbs with his gun? No, this is between you and me anyway," he fires back. Which is true in its own way, my parents are very scared of him. Though it's fair in the beginning, it's rather dull minded now that they know him.

"No, there isn't a 'you and me', we are done. Why can't you just accept that? I don't want to be with you anymore, figure it out yourself," I say with finality. I roll over onto my side, throwing the blanket over myself in hopes he gets the message.

Dracchus doesn't stay down for long, reacting swiftly to my surprise. He grabs my shoulders and splays me on my back. His clawed hands frame my head as he hovers over me in an all too familiar position.

"I'd accept it if it didn't sound like a lie every time you said it," he growls, softening as he watches me a moment longer," please, love, what's wrong?"

Looking up at him is surprisingly difficult. The familiarity of this pulls at my heart. I want to reach up and grab his face, lead him down for a charred kiss. Taste the brimstone of his tongue, feel the heat as he enters my mouth. It's hard not to just grab him.

"Dracchus," I turn away, breaking whatever hold he has on my heart. Before I can continue he drops his hard head to my chest, growling to himself as he nuzzles up to my neck. The growling rolls into a purr as he fits so perfectly under my jaw.

"I just wanna talk, I don't wanna fight with you," he mumbles," what did I do wrong?"

I'm surprised by the shaky breath that comes out of my mouth. My heart is like rocks falling down a hole, echoing in beats but sucking into the chasm below. My body shivers in dread and panic as the door creaks open in my mind. This is what I wanted to avoid, this is what I've been fighting all day.

"Please," he begs again," I love you."

The three little words are what slams the door wide open. My eyes sting and my hands shake. It's almost fitting to have those words thrown back at me when it's what started this to being with. Hearing him say it so casually that day was so alarming. He meant them then as much as he does now. I hate it. I hate what it does to me.

"I-I," I try to speak," I'm scared." the honesty burns my throat like the words just barely scraped by.

Dracchus lifts away, staring down so concerned. "of me?"

I shake my head," of us."

"Us," he asks confused," love, you have to explain." I shake my head, biting my lip to stop the quivering. "I'm sorry but I can't help if I don't understand. It's ok, I won't hurt you or anything. I'm just here to listen." he nods, approving his own words, and gauging my reactions. As I refuse to answer he rolls off me, laying on his side while his tail twists me towards him. I can't help but clench at my shirt as he looks at me with such worry. His eyes drift to my fists before he grabs at a pillow and hands it to me. Like a lifeline, I clench it to my chest so tightly. It's calming, surprisingly. To snuggle around this pillow like a child while the familiar weight of his tail rests over my legs.

"you remember tony," I mumble, looking down at his chest.

"College Tony," he asks," He is the one who threw the book at you."

"yea, he was," I sigh," you know he was the first guy I ever said 'I love you' to."

He tail squeezes around my leg," no, I didn't know that." I take in the warmth of him, stealing courage in such a small gesture.

"Well, when I told him that, he wasn't very nice about it. He panicked and started yelling. I couldn't figure out why," I sniffle," it was confusing and alarming. Shortly afterward we broke up and it just tore me apart. That moment stuck with me for so long that when my next boyfriend said it I felt so trapped. I can't explain the weight that those three little words have over me but… it feels like a book hitting me in the face."

"so," he takes a breath," Is that why you broke up with those other guys? Because you were gaining feelings for them?"

I nod, taking shallow breaths to stray off the stinging in my eyes. It sounds so simple when he says it like it's silly to act that way. That's what relationships are for, developing feelings and growing with another. It just feels toxic to me, like poison corrupting my body with every step. I cared for them all, so I tried to stop caring. I broke it off and felt validated when they left so easily. They weren't worth it, I was right to end things. Now, with Dracchus, it's all wrong. He didn’t validate those feelings, he made it worse. He wanted to hear me, he wanted me to stick around, and that was too much.

"I'm sorry," I snivel, curling over my pillow as the dam breaks in my eyes. I bury my face against the soft fabric, wetting it as I shake and shutter. A warm hand grabs at my arms, hugging me close before rubbing over my back. His rough, warm touch breaks me at that moment.

Without much thought, I throw my leg over his waist and toss the pillow aside. I need him close, I need to feel him. I wrap myself around him, taking all he gives as I ball my eyes out. I didn't want any of this. I didn't want to cry against his chest while feeling utterly undeserving of it. Him giving his affection so freely feels like a trap. Surely no man, human or otherwise, wants to deal with a sobbing female.

"I'm sorry," I mumble against him, hiccupping at the end.

"it's fine, love," he noses at my hair, humming to himself as he does," take all the time you need."

His words are like a balm, though undeserved, it's greatly appreciated.

I cry myself dry and then some. The shutters dwindle the longer he pets at my back. This comfort is so new that I can't help but take it all in with great greed. I never knew how bad I needed this sort of comfort, this sort of care. It's what my heart has craved for years but I couldn't provide.

"Thanks," I say.

"no thanks needed," he licks at my cheek," I will be here for as long as you need me and more. I love you and will care for you always." I can't help but tilt up and grab at his face, pulling him in for a soft kiss. His rough, scaled lips meet mine in an all too familiar dance. It's slow, sweet, tender, everything I've wanted in a kiss.

"I love you," I murmur, stealing another kiss. He purrs, pulling me close as a smile spreads across his face.

"So, you coming back home," he asks. I don't want to answer him, instead of wanting to kiss him again. He keeps out of reach, waiting for my response with a teasing grin.

"yes," I sigh," I'm coming back home."

"good," he smiles," seems we could have strayed off this unnecessary unpacking and repacking if you just talked to me to begin with."

"shut up," I pap his chest," it's part of my process, you know I have the flair for the dramatics."

He laughs," as we both do." the teasing is nice, like falling back into a comforting routine. I snuggle up to him, a smile gracing my face along with his. I rest my eyes, a finger picking at the scales on his chest as I fall into sleep.

"I love you," he says lazily into the dark room.

"I love you, too, Dracchus." ----------------------------------------

If you haven’t noticed the dragon is named after a character from a Tiffany Robert’s book. Dracchus was a dope character.

Also, I have like a serious kink for communication in relationships. love me some non-toxic romance!

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog

[mvnvgedmischief]

unremarkable days.

summary: sirius black is trying to be a good man, a good brother, a good person. Sirius has a steady job designing book covers for a publishing house, a flat he never leaves, and a traumatized brother who was just removed from the custody of his parents. All in all, it's wildly unremarkable.

chapter:  5/?

characters: sirius black, regulus black, wolfstar, background marauders

tags: tw: canon compliant abuse, child abuse, social services, abuse, eating disorders

read it on ao3 here

read the last chapter here

words: 4.2k

Sirius felt his mind whirring, as usual. God, it was so hard for him to be normal, to cope with the stress and the frustration and the exhaustion. He didn’t know how he was meant to. He remembered just a month ago, when Alice told him he should take a parental leave. Six weeks off he could have had if he wanted them. But he wanted to keep his trajectory undisputed. It was a mistake, in hindsight. He didn’t know then just how difficult his parents would make things. He didn’t know then what he knew now. He would have said “fuck it” to his trajectory if he would’ve been able to sleep. After all, it was the only thing he really wanted. It was the only thing, other than Regulus’s safety. 

He knew that he couldn’t do anything about this Remus situation. It was too dangerous. If he did something, he didn’t want it coming out in court. If he didn’t, Remus would probably never approve a design again. At least, not from him. So he chose to do what anyone would in his position. He called Marlene and looped in Alice. The calendar invite specified the meeting would begin in twenty minutes. He had titled it “Team Touchbase: The Girls are Talking Shit Again” in hopes to lighten the mood. However, there was no way that it would work. Not with the conversation he was about to have. 

He found himself breathing deeply. Trying to muster the courage to do this. They would be upset. He was sure of it. Especially when it was something this earnest, this niche and close to his chest. But Sirius didn’t have any other choice. Not as far as he could tell. So instead, he made plans for all of the inevitable ways they would try to convince him not to do this. But his mind was already made up. There was no going back now. Not when he was already this committed to the decision. 

“I need to be dropped from this project.” He doesn’t even bother with pleasantries. “Alice, please take me off of this project.”

The scoff caught him off guard. In all the time he had spent working closely with Marlene, she had never scoffed at him. Then again, he’d never asked to be taken off either. “You’re gonna let one bad meeting get to you? It’s not that big of a deal, Sirius.” Marlene was looking at him expectantly. As though she expected him to realize that he was wrong and laugh about it. 

“They’ll all be bad. I need to be dropped from the project.” He stated it like a fact. Maybe because to him, it was one. He just kept repeating it because if he said it enough times maybe they would just believe him and drop him from this book, and this chaos.

“What happened in your meeting earlier? I feel like I’m playing catch up.” It really wasn’t fair to Alice that she didn’t know. But Sirius didn't feel like explaining. 

“Sirius wants to get dropped from the poetry book.”

“But—“ Alice paused. She looked like she was sussing something out. “But aren't those your favorite pet projects?” 

“Yeah, but—” 

“So what’s the problem? “ Marlene cut him off again, and Sirius was beginning to lose his will to do this. He knew he couldn’t just not show up to meetings, but it would show them he needed to be taken off this project. 

“Alice, I have so many projects right now where the author doesn’t hate me. I don’t really have the time to be on a project where he does.” He wasn’t even acknowledging Marlene right now, because she clearly didn’t understand. why he wanted to be taken off. And that was okay, he didn’t mind, as long as he could get off this project. 

Marlene and Alice were good people. They weren’t going to make him do this when he reminded them of how much he was doing, how much weight he was actually pulling. He was sure of it. 

“Bullshit. He doesn’t hate you.”

Well that wasn’t what he anticipated. 

Marlene wasn’t having this. She began to extrapolate on her point, and Sirius was only half listening. “He thinks you’re cool and intimidating, Sirius. He was trying not to feel small. It might not be your style to take that on, but he doesn’t hate you and you know it.” Marlene seemed really keen on keeping him on this project. Sirius wondered why for a moment, but he couldn’t be sure. He didn't know how hard she worked to put him on this account in the first place. 

“Marlene, I don’t know how else to tell you this, but,” he could feel his tone rising. He was starting to get upset. “I don’t have the luxury of time right now to redo the last week of work by myself. Especially when he wants it by today. I don’t have the fucking time. All because he doesn’t like me. I don’t have the time. Take me off the fucking project.” 

“I’m sorry what? What even happened in this meeting?” Sirius wished she had just been there. He wished she watched it happen, because the idea of going through all of the gory details all over again made his skin crawl. 

“Her,” It was probably unfair to place that much emphasis on the word, as though it was Marlene’s fault, “client told me to start over, and when I asked him for any feedback, he essentially told me that if I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it that I should be out of a job.” 

“You’re being dramatic, Sirius! He didn’t say that! He just said that–” She paused, and Sirius assumed it was because that was exactly what Remus had said. “that you were the artist, not him.”

“Marlene, we don’t let our junior designers take project lead most of the time. I know you really wanted him on this project, but one of the reasons that junior designers don’t lead projects is because a team of two designers on one project is less likely to get bullied. Start cc’ing me on all your emails, I’ll be overseeing this project. “ Alice was speaking with conviction and grace, something Sirius knew he lacked.  He knew that lacking in that made him hard to root for, but he didn’t care. 

“Can I clear out my schedule from these meetings? I really don’t want to even look at them anymore.” He wished he didn’t sound like a kicked puppy right now.

“No.” Alice affirmed, “You are not about to let a client bully you out of your job. Besides, I’m overseeing this project, and this relationship. If you’re not there, there is no relationship.” She really had an air about her that made her hard to question. Sirius wished he had that. 

With that, the conversation was over. Neither Marlene nor Sirius look satisfied, but Alice has provided her mentee as good of a solution as he was probably going to get right now. And effectively Marlene got what she wanted. Sirius was still on the project. 

“Both of you, take the day to cool off. I’ll be getting in touch with the client later today to make sure that our client relationship terms are actually being upheld. Something tells me he didn’t read them.” 

Sirius nodded numbly. He felt emotionally tapped out. There was no way that this was going to work. How was he supposed to juggle all of this, on top of his already stressful life. So instead, he logged off, like Alice suggested. He was not going to be logging back on any time soon. He could practically guarantee that. 

Sirius found his way to the couch, with its ever inviting comfort. All of the coziness of falling asleep, none of the bedroom associated trauma. That was definitely a bonus. Falling asleep on the couch always seemed far safer than falling asleep in his bed. There was less likelihood of nightmares, less anxiety, less flashbacks. It was a wonder Sirius ever made it to bed. Today, he didn’t. He sat on the sectional, curling himself into a small ball in the corner, and turned on something low intensity. He put on a documentary series about penguins, which felt like it would be soothing, and before he knew it, he was asleep. 

He was lucky when he logged out of his email, it auto populated his Out of Office message. Or at least, usually he thought that. Today he would have rather died, then have that functionality turned on. Because he was sure it was what prompted Remus to wake him from his peaceful nap with a call. 

Well, peaceful was a strong word. It definitely had its own fair share of thrashing, but Sirius would take thrashing and nightmares he couldn’t remember over this phone call. He dreads it until he slides the accept call button.

“Sirius Black.” He begins, because what is there to say. His voice sounded thick with exhaustion. He could hear it.

“We need to get that meeting on the calendar.” Didn’t Remus know he could just send a calendar invite? This remote thing wasn’t nearly as complicated as he made it out to be. 

“I’m out of office Remus.” His tone was dripping with contempt. He didn’t want this. He wanted to sleep. 

“You’re always out of office. You never answer when i call you, it’s fucking nutty how hard I have to work to get you on the phone.” 

“It wouldn’t be if you could just check the google calendar or get your nose out of my business.” Sirius didn’t know he was feeling this spicy today. But apparently, he was enjoying controlled confrontation.  

“i don’t think that’s—“ 

“Stop asking people why I’m not in office. It’s none of your business.” He wasn't pulling any punches right now. He was going to get this man off of his back. “It’s fucking weird. I don’t know you.”

“I was just–“ Remus wasn’t going to get a word in edgewise. Sirius wasn’t going to let him. 

“And for that matter, it shouldn’t matter whether or not I’m remote. It seems to bother you so much, but you were the one who tried to put me on the project. You were the one who asked Marlene about it. I’ve been remote since before you got picked up, it’s not news to anyone else on the team. It’s weird that you’re so concerned with me.”

“You were the one who—“

“That was a big fucking mistake.” Sirius spit in response. Sure, he wanted to see Remus again when he had asked him on that date. But putting it all in perspective, he couldn’t do that. And he didn’t like that Remus was pressing everyone for the details of his personal life. He would rather cut this off here, not risk the court date and the details being aired out. Especially not since they could be used to take Regulus from him. He couldn’t risk it. 

“What was the point of it then? Why’d you ask me and then pull this?” Remus’s voice sounded small. Like he was going to cry. 

“I liked you until you started prying into my life. I don’t need more people running around trying to dig up information on me.” Sirius shouldn’t have said that. He felt it in his chest, but he couldn’t take it back now. He practically wants to scream, you could have just waited, I would have explained. But he could not do that, because it definitely wasn’t true. 

“Oh.” That’s all Remus said, before he clicked the phone off and hung up. 

Sirius didn’t have the time to think about that. He just didn’t. While six months ago he would have spiralled out of control thinking about what that short “oh” meant, but he couldn’t spend that time right now. Shit. What time even was it? He checked the time when his eyes began to focus again, and took a moment to try to collect himself. It was half past five, and he had no time because Regulus would be home from football in twenty minutes and Sirius needed to have dinner on the table. So he jumped off of the couch, and tore from the living room area into the kitchen. What was he even going to make? How would he even pull this together? 

He was moving at a speed he wasn’t sure he even possessed these days. He was running through what he could make mentally, trying not to come up with anything that would wear on him too heavily or signal a lack of effort to Regulus. It was a fine line that he walked every night. When food was too terrifyingly bland, too ashen in his mouth, and too overwhelming to his mind, how did he settle on something comforting for his brother? And on top of that, he needed to be quick.  He was running out of time.  He grabbed a jar of pasta sauce that he had made earlier in the week, and a box of spaghetti, and hoped that this would be enough. It wasn’t good enough to stand up to the chefs in the Black family home, but then again, he didn’t think Regulus wanted that anyways. 

When Regulus finally walked through the door, Sirius was almost done cooking. He had meatballs in a pan, the pasta was strained, and the sauce was warm. Maybe this would be enough. Maybe he would have done enough for them to just enjoy dinner, and have a normal night. 

“Hey, Siri.” Regulus looked calm for the first time in a long time. Hopefully tonight would be a good night. Hopefully they could have a normal meal, laugh and smile and have a good time. It would be nice. 

“Hey, Reg.” Sirius replies, putting together a bowl for his younger brother. He wanted so badly to just let things be normal. He puts one together for himself as well, and brings them over to the table.  If he needed to do it, he would. He didn’t want to be anything other than a positive force in Regulus’s life. He didn’t want to cause problems for him. “How was school?” 

Regulus looks up, god, when did his eyes start looking so sad. Where did the light he used to have in his eyes go? Had Sirius really missed so much  of his life? “School was fine. Kind of long. They sent me  to the  social worker today. Grilled me on what it was like living with you.”

Sirius felt his eyes go wide. Sure, it wasn’t surprising that they did, but still, it terrified him. 

“I told them everything was awful, obviously.” Regulus chuckled, and for a moment, Sirius’s heart dropped. However, in a moment, he was laughing right along with Regulus. Of course it was a joke. He hadn’t told them that, because he didn’t want to go back. Sirius was terrified of anyone taking Regulus, but Regulus seemed to be terrified of being taken away. At least today, he seemed to be. “I told them it’d be easier to get acclimated if someone stopped mum and dad from taking us to court all  the time.” That statement was smaller, more fearful. It was as if Regulus was afraid he had done something wrong. 

“Mate, I–” Sirius began, but Regulus stopped him, “Siri you can’t stop them. You don’t need to apologize to me.” 

That sentence could have made him crumble. It probably would have, if they weren’t interrupted by a knock at the door.  Sirius felt himself jump, and he watched Regulus do the same. God, Sirius wished they weren’t so fucking damaged. He wished that any noises that they didn’t know was coming didn’t startle them.  He wished they hadn’t been conditioned to be afraid for so many years. But then the key is clicking into the lock, and  Sirius is jumping up. He  doesn’t want this right now. He can’t do this right now. He knows it’s Jamie as soon as the sound of the tumblers click into place.  So he walked over  to the door with speed and a mission. He would keep them out of his home if he could help  it,  because he couldn’t do this tonight. They needed a calm night at home, a night of peace and family time, and Regulus was shifting uncomfortably  in the chair. 

“Jamie, you can’t  be here.”  Sirius began, before he even opened the door. 

“Mate, you didn’t come to the family dinner. We wanted to see you, so we came  to you,” James laughed and when Sirius looked around, it was the team. Including Remus. 

“No,” Sirius puts his foot behind the door,  holding it closed with only  his head poking out. 

“But Sirius it’s been forever since anyone’s seen you,” Peter called from behind him.  

“No, lads. Go home. It’s a school night.”  Sirius wasn’t budging. In fact, he was pleading.

“You don’t have a kid.” Remus called, clearly looking bitter. Sirius wanted to scream that he didn’t know what he’s talking about, because he didn’t.

“Go home, guys. You can’t come in. It’s a school night.” He repeated. They couldn’t. He didn’t want Reg to be so uncomfortable, which he clearly was. 

“Fine.” James looked irritated. Sirius understood why. He understood that he had forgotten the plans James made, but at the same time, he couldn’t juggle this right now. He didn’t have the time for all of this. He knew he had been MIA from his friend’s lives, but this wasn’t forever. It was just until he was done with all of these hearings. Just until his parents would stop. Just until Regulus felt more comfortable. Just until the chaos ended. 

Sirius returned from the door, and sat down at the table again. He didn’t really care to talk about it, but his brother looked so guilty that he felt like he had to. 

“They could’ve come in. I would’ve eaten in my room.” His eyes welled with tears, and he looked so deeply uncomfortable. 

“Reg, this is your house. Not theirs.”  Sirius responded with as much authority  as he could muster, but he definitely didn’t want to scare him. He didn’t want to seem like his parents, he didn’t want to behave the way that they did ever. It was a fine line to walk, and he knew it would get harder when he needed to put his foot down, be a disciplinarian in any way. But for right now, that wasn’t a concern of his. Right now he was much more focused on making this a welcoming environment. It needed to be comfortable for him before they could handle anything else.  

“It’s your house, you can have people over if you want.” Regulus’s voice sounded thick with concern, laced with guilt. Sirius was terrified that he was royally screwing this whole thing up. He wanted to be a good brother, a good guardian, a support system. “I don’t wanna cause problems.” There it was, the sentence before the crumble.  Sirius could see it coming, because it was like looking into the past. Regulus reminded him of himself so much that it hurt sometimes. 

“Reg, mate,”  he started, and then he stood up (and pretended that he wasn’t seeing stars). “You aren’t causing problems,” in just a moment, he was beside his younger brother and his arm was wrapped around the teen’s shoulders. “I’m so glad you’re here. All I’ve ever wanted is to get you out of there. I just couldn’t before. The council wouldn’t let me.” 

“But– but–” Reg was stuttering and spiralling, “If I wasn’t here they wouldn’t be taking us to court all the time, there wouldn’t be private investigators, you wouldn’t have to worry.” His words felt like burns on Sirus’s skin. It felt like a vice gripped his heart, and all he wanted to do was support his brother.  All he wanted was for everything to finally be okay. 

“Reg, look at me.” Sirius’s calloused hand gently pulled his brother’s shoulder to face him. “I want you here. I have wanted you here since I left. I missed having my kid brother around, alright?” 

“Oh,” Reg responded, but he had already become despondent and detached. He wasn’t coming back from the stress and the emotional turmoil tonight. Sirius understood. He had been like that when he first left. Hell, he was still like that. He didn’t have the energy to do for himself what he had done for Regulus, by getting him the best treatment he could, and making sure to keep him together. He was trying to do for Regulus what Euphemia and Monty had done for him. He knew that he wasn’t measuring up to them, but he was trying. He knew that he had taken for granted what they had done, he was re-engaging in behaviors that weren’t healthy for him. Things they had worked so hard to pull him out of. But he was trying, and he didn’t have the time to take care of all of those old behaviors that had flared up. He didn’t have the energy to work on himself, when he had all of this going on. 

Shortly thereafter, Regulus decided to go to bed. Sirius understood, it had been a lot of effort to go to school, and footie, and deal with the stress of Sirius’s friends showing up out of nowhere. And Sirius was thankful in a way, because he was about to rip into James for doing this again. He should know better. Within minutes, he was ringing James and seething. He can barely wait until the phone is done ringing to start going in on him.

“Jamie, you can’t fucking do that to me.” He began, “You can’t just bring people to my fucking house, especially not people who don’t know what is going on. I can’t have people over– they have a fucking PI looking into me, documenting everyone who’s here, when they’re here. I can’t have a bunch of people over on a fucking school night! They’re going to try to take him from me over the smallest fucking thing, let alone having several twenty somethings over in the middle of the week out of nowhere!” He was not even taking a moment to breathe, “How could you fucking do that to me? Why do you want to help them?  I can’t even fucking leave my house without being fucking interrogated about it every two weeks in court! You can’t bring people here!” He reached up to push his curly black hair out of his eyes, and he realized that he was crying. He was really caught off guard by it. 

James waited a moment, before responding. James was always much better about keeping his cool than Sirius had ever been, and if he was honest, Sirius appreciated it. He appreciated that James kept it together when he couldn’t. “Sirius, I didn’t know. I don’t want you to get him taken from you. I’m sorry.”

“Jamie they can’t do it– they can’t take him– I can’t let them–” Now it was Sirius’s turn to spiral. The anger had subsided, and all that was left was his fear. He was terrified that he was going to lose his brother again, and he couldn’t handle that. 

“Siri– a judge would have to be mad to take him from you.” While that might have been true, it didn’t quell Sirius’s fears. 

“They have so much money, Jamie. They have so much power. They can do whatever they want and get away with it. It doesn’t matter if it’s legal.” Sirius wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear. He was so terrified, and there was nothing that anyone could do to make this less terrifying. It was almost terrifying just how much power the Black family actually held. Sirius wasn’t sure that he could do enough to stand up to them. 

“I’m worried about you, Pads.” James let out a sigh, it seemed like this was a conversation he was dreading having. “You’re alone all the time. You never go anywhere. You’ve been lashing out at people— Pads, I can’t remember the last time it was this bad.” He sounded almost as terrified as Sirius felt. 

“I see them more now than I have in years, Prongs. I can’t handle this.” His voice is breaking. He was trying so hard not to lose it, but it hadn’t worked and it probably wouldn’t anytime soon. 

“You haven’t been seeing your counselor.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. 

“You don’t know that.” He was right, Sirius hadn’t been seeing his counselor. 

“Yeah I do. You’re online when you usually see her. Is it about the money? Me and Lil can help you out with money.” Sirius hadn’t expected to be called out like that. He didn’t have the energy to handle this conversation right now. 

“I can’t do this right now.” Sirius responded, “I’ve gotta go.” He didn’t really, he just wanted to be alone. He just wanted to not talk about it anymore, pretend everything was fine, dissociate for hours. That was what he wanted. It was completely unremarkable. 

[outsiderslamb]

Overheated

Ao3 Link

Darry has to confront his own anger issues to be a better friend and brother.

 (2791 words)

(Tw for yelling, panic attacks and talks of abuse)

@naturallesbain @therealsehinton @hellsfanatic @cammie @chaotically-cas

Darry’s aching muscles screamed in protest as he hauled himself out of his chair. His body was still heavy with sweat and exhaustion from his shift, and he did not have the time to lay down. It was getting late and if he didn’t make dinner for these kids then nobody else would.

Lumbering to the kitchen, every utensil, and pot he held felt heavy in his hands. He nearly spilled the soup as he poured it from the can to the pot. Looking out the window, the sun was setting quicker than usual the later it got into the year, so Darry figured he’d call them in for supper early, as it would not be long for the soup to be done.

Heaving to the door, he called everyone in from their game of football. He did a quick headcount to see how many of his adopted family he’d need to feed tonight (anyone not there at the moment would either stop by later or had found a place for the night). There were Ponyboy and Sodapop of course, then Steve and Johnny. That made four, but he’d make a little extra to refrigerate in case anybody else stopped by.

“Hey, hey, y’all get your shoes off now,” Darry ordered as Steve and Ponyboy didn’t seem to get the memo after countless reminders. Telling them once should have been enough, Darry thought as he gritted his teeth.

“Ain’t even that dirty,” Steve replied, infuriatingly. Darry was too tired for this.

“Just get them off.” Darry couldn’t help the bite to his tone. It didn’t bother Steve too much, who just shucked them off and went to talk to Sodapop, but Darry could feel a tension in the room; even as nobody was showing it.

Nobody except Johnny, who Darry noticed was starting to fidget in place. He suddenly stood up and in the most forced-friendly way Darry had ever seen, trotted over to the kitchen. “Here, you need help?” Johnny asked, smiling as though somebody had a gun to his head.

Darry gave a little huff, he would much rather cook alone right now despite usually loving Johnny’s help, but it’d be rude to turn the little guy away. “Yeah.” he gritted out.

As they got to work, Johnny’s presence in that cramped space felt like a barrier. When the younger boy got close to the counter to pour another can of soup into the pot, the noise of sloshing made Darry feel sick.

“I think this would taste better if I added pepper,” Johnny said, standing up on his tip-toes to see into the bowl. “You have any?” he asked.

Darry gave a jerky nod. “Yeah,” he groaned, “In the cupboard,” He then turned back to heating up the stove.

Behind him, he heard Sodapop laughing. “Woah, hey Johnnycakes you tryna crack your skull open?”

Johnny’s reply was a snap “Not my fault y’all won’t invest in a step-stool.”

Darry turned to see Johnny precariously balancing on the countertop, multiple spices gathered up in his thin arms.

“Oi, Johnny!” Darry yelped, bolting to the countertop and grabbing Johnny by the waist. “I outta put you in a helmet if you’re gonna pull this shit, Jesus Christ kid!” he lifted the boy off the counter and held him in the air.

Johnny’s legs kicked a bit where they hovered off the ground, shrinking in embarrassment as Sodapop and Steve burst out laughing.

“Ah c’mon Darry, he couldn’t reach,” Ponyboy called sympathetically.

“Oh I know you ain’t talking, little man, after you snapped your arm like a twig climbing around like that,” Darry growled in response.

Ponyboy looked incredulous. “Yeah when I was six, and my arm didn’t even break it just bruised like a peach.”

“Can I get down now?” Came Johnny’s groan before Darry could come up with some kind of retort.

Darry wasn’t thinking, he just opened his arms and expected Johnny to sort himself out. Of course, Johnny fell like a sack of bricks, and so did the spices.

“Ouch!”

Darry looked down and saw Johnny trying to pick up everything he dropped, he couldn’t help feeling bad. “Sorry,” he grunted, probably not sounding very sorry at all.

“Ain’t no reason to drop him!” Steve stood up, great, another person yelling.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Johnny said, looking more annoyed than actually hurt as he set the spices on the counter and got back to work.

Steve sat back down reluctantly upon seeing that the only thing Darry had bruised was Johnny’s pride. But Sodapop didn’t seem like he wanted to let this situation simmer down.

“Dar’ I think you ought to hit the hay for now.” Said Sodapop, his sympathy sounding a lot like condescension right now.

“I’m just fine, thank you.” Darry snapped back, Sodapop shrank in response, funny he didn’t sound too angry in his head.

He tensed up his sore muscles upon feeling a small finger tap on his shoulder, whipping around way too fast he saw Johnny looking up at him with a worried expression.

“Darry you really need to go take a shower and get some rest, I think you’ve had it hard enough today,” he said nervously.

“I’m busy,” Darry grunted back.

“I can finish dinner,” Johnny offered, “I’ve been cooking for myself for years and-”

“Leave me be, I’m fine.”

“Oh you clearly aren’t, don’t lie to me.”

Darry growled, taking a quick step closer before he could stop himself.

“I SAID LEAVE ME BE!”

Darry had lost his usually tight grip on his temper at that moment. Nobody yells at Johnny in this house, because they all know that he gets enough of it at home. You’d have to be a monster to know what he goes through and still put him through.

Johnny’s face darkened, his eyes wide and he took a step back. Looking closer, Darry realized that fuck he was shaking.

“Shit. Johnnycakes I’m so-” Darry tried but Johnny turned quickly before anyone could see his reaction and walked out the door.

Darry remembered a night a few months ago when he’d snapped like this with Ponyboy, only that time he’d hit him. Darry never thought he’d forgive himself, and he’d been working on controlling his anger for a while. Darry cringed at the thought that he could have hit Johnny or any of his other adopted brothers.

Darry tried to follow, but Sodapop stood up and put a hand on his chest. “Take our advice. Please.” He said, looking tired and disappointed but not angry.

Darry took a step back and headed for the shower. He needed to cool down before anything else.

Johnny couldn’t think of anything as he sat on the porch, knees hugged up close to his chest. His mind was completely static as he stared into nothing, heart racing and breath coming out in ragged gasps.

He shouldn’t have reacted that way. Darry was just frustrated and he dealt with people yelling at him all the time at home. He shouldn’t be such a damned pansy, but he couldn’t help it.

He didn’t hear the door open or any footsteps when a hand was placed on his shoulder. Johnny jerked upwards, eyes huge, but then realized it was just Sodapop.

“Hey, buddy,” came Sodapop’s soft voice, his hand rubbing Johnny’s shoulder through his thick jacket. “Easy now, breath with me.”

Johnny felt Sodapop slide in next to him, wrapping both arms tight around Johnny’s much smaller frame, pulling his friend in close to his chest. Johnny burrowed his face into Sodapop’s shirt, as though it would give him some sort of anonymity while he tried to calm himself down. Tears soaked into the dark fabric.

“I-I usually don’t re… usually don’t react like this.” Johnny cried softly, getting a good hold on his breathing, which was good as he was alrighty starting to get light-headed.

“Its okay, honey, nobody thinks any less of you. Darry’s probably beating himself up over this,” Sodapop reassured, rubbing Johnny’s back. “Buddy, I know something else is going on. You extra stressed? Had a bad day?”

Johnny gave a wobbly sigh, the tears finally slowing. He willed his voice to not waver, “Dad had today off,” was all he needed to say.

Sodapop sighed deeply, honey-colored brows furrowing. Johnny knew how much everyone in his patch-work family wanted to stick it to his biological parents, but he couldn’t let that happen.

“Are you hurt at all?” Sodapop asked after a moment of composing himself. “We have plenty of ice, what, with all the fights our idiots like getting into,” Sodapop smirked and ruffled Johnny’s fluffy hair.

“Golly, Sodapop, y’all don’t have to do that.” Johnny wiped his eyes with his sleeve, face still flushed from crying.

“Don’t you worry about it, little buddy,” Sodapop said, “I do wish you would tell me when the bastard’s hurt you,” Sodapop pulled Johnny closer to him, “You don’t have to make an announcement or nothin’, like when one of the jackasses gets into a fight, just come to me or Darry or anybody else you feel safe with.”

Johnny thought about that. He was used to having to heal his wounds in private, as he hated the whole deal everybody would make out of it when he came in with a black-eye or bruises on his arm.

“Thank you,” Johnny finally said, then with a still-shaky hand, tugged back a tuft of curly black hair to show the swelling bruise at the corner of his forehead. “I got pushed over, hit my head on the corner of the counter,” he said. This, as bad as it was, was on the more mild side of the things Johnny had endured.

Sodapop cringed, his warm brown eyes glowing with sadness. “Oh Johnnycakes,” he reached out and gently touched his friend’s cheek. Johnny did not flinch away. “Let’s get some ice on that.”

Johnny nodded, a pang of guilt hitting him. Sodapop was clearly troubled by this, Johnny should not be finding joy in his friend’s reaction to his pain.

“Hey, did dinner just get left on the stove?” he asked, remembering that he’d dropped everything to run outside.

Sodapop shook his head, seeming to cheer up a little. “Nup, Ponyboy and Steve-o are on it.”

Johnny blanched. “We better hurry back then…” Sodapop seemed to agree.

Upon entering the house, Johnny was greeted by loud arguing coming from the kitchen, (Of course, he’d expected no less) and the faint hissing of the shower in the background.

“Put the goddamn ladle down, this shit ain’t done!” Steve barked at Ponyboy, who was trying to taste the steaming cauldron on the stove.

“I’m trying to see what we need to add.” Ponyboy defended himself, pulling out a scoop of the thick liquid and taking a slurp without even blowing on it. He nearly dropped the ladle and yelped, running to the sink to run his tongue under cool water while Steve guffawed.

“What's it need, mr. Chef sir?” Steve teased organizing the spices on the countertop.

“It probably needs to cool, given Horseboy’s caterwauling.” Johnny chided, trotting into the kitchen, he was well aware that his face was probably still red from crying.

Steve turned to Johnny with surprise, then cracked one of his gap-toothed grins. “Hey, little chiefs feelin’ better,” he said, setting the cinnamon down to screw up Johnny’s hair.

Ponyboy tried to say something from the sink, but it was muffled by the sound of running water. Johnny smiled at him, “Yeah, I’m doing better now. Move over, I gotta help you guys.”

Sodapop cleared his throat from the couch, reminding Johnny that he still needed to get the ice. Johnny nodded to him. “I’ll do it after I’m done with this disaster.”

Darry turned off the water, feeling the cold chill of the surrounding air hit him fast as he was no longer being pelted with steaming hot water.

He toweled off and headed to his bedroom to get dressed, but not before stopping to listen by the door; He counted two voices. It sounded like Steve and Ponyboy were trying to cook. That thought horrified him and he had to resist the urge to run out in nothing but a towel to make sure they didn’t burn the house down. But when Johnny’s voice joined them, he knew the crisis had been averted.

Oh.

For a moment he’d nearly forgotten what had recently transpired. He knew he technically should follow Sodapop’s advice and get some sleep before trying to fix his mess, but there's no way he could sleep with this weighing on his mind.

As he got dressed, he kept listening. Johnny’s voice was… normal. It didn’t sound too wet or too upset, that forcefully cheery attitude from earlier was completely gone. He sounded fine.

Darry thought about that. Johnny would force a smile and his voice would rise in pitch sometimes during times of conflict. But only ever during an infight in the gang. It was strange because he clearly wasn’t like that all the time, but then it hit Darry; that was his way of diffusing situations.

That only made him feel more guilty. Johnny was trying to fix the situation, and he’d gone and yelled at him. Darry wanted to hide but knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. He was going to make this right.

He finished buttoning up his new shirt and stepped out into the living area.

Upon stepping outside, he saw that Steve and Ponyboy were sitting on the couch with the TV playing, but they were arguing with Johnny and Sodapop, who were both in the kitchen fixing dinner.

“I’m perfectly capable! I ain’t the one here who pressed my whole hand on the stove!” Steve shouted at Sodapop, who was pointing a wooden spoon at him.

“That was ONCE when I was SIX, Steven Lucas Randle!” Sodapop bit back, ouch, full name, never good.

“He’s done more stupid stuff if you want examples.” Ponyboy piped up from where he was curled up in the corner of the couch.

“See, Baby Horse agrees with me,” Steve said one of the rare times he’d side with the kid.

“What the hell did I walk into?” Darry groaned light-heartedly from the hallway.

There was a moment of tense silence where everybody turned to look at him. Though it only lasted a heartbeat, Darry still felt as though he could cut the tension with a knife.

“Civil war.” Said Johnny from the kitchen, finally. “We banished them for their foolishness and now they’re trying to reclaim their territory.” with that, the tension in the room eased.

Darry let out the breath he didn’t notice he was holding. “Hey Johnnycakes, how are you feeling?”

Johnny set the ladle back in the soup and trotted over to Darry, nobody said a word as the two looked at each other.

“I’m better.” Johnny looked a little nervous, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “Just…” He took a deep breath. “Had a bad day, so I overreacted.”

“Oh, Johnny, I was the one who overreacted,” Darry said softly, reaching out to Johnny to touch his shoulder, but staying his hand before he could out of fear the boy would flinch from his touch. “I’m so sorry.”

Johnny sighed, looking away. Darry could almost see the way his heartbeat in his chest. But then, he crossed the gap between them and pushed his forehead against Darry’s chest, wrapping his thin arms around the man.

Darry froze instantly, he was not expecting this at all. Before he could hesitate anymore, he wrapped Johnny up in his arms.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” He kept whispering, feeling as though he would cry. Fuck, he couldn’t cry right here in front of everybody. In truth, Darry felt like he’d failed Johnny. He’d promised him over and over again that he’d keep him safe, then he’d gone and acted like the very person putting Johnny in danger.

He remembered Ponyboy’s face when he struck him that night and the misery that had come with knowing that he, his brother’s GUARDIAN for fucks sake, had just turned on him.

“I’ll do better,” Darry vowed into Johnny’s ear, voice soft and cracking with tears. “I promise.”

Johnny sighed shakily, pressing back. “I know, I’m not afraid of you I promise. You can act big n’ tough but you don’t scare me.”

Darry chuckled a little bit, only letting go when Johnny did. With that, the tension in the room was absolved.

“Hey teddy bear, dinners ready,” Sodapop called from the kitchen, and Darry sighed, feeling a weight lifted from his chest.

“Be right there to help, Pepsi-cola.”

[tory-ben-hi-shelton]

my favourite quotes from exposure

Multiple sets of handcuffs appeared and were applied. Bailiffs began peeling off the dog-pile like layers of an onion. And there, at the bottom of the scrum, was Kit. He was panting like a marathoner, arms still wrapping the Gamemaster's legs in a death grip. He'd clearly been the first to react.

"Oh, man!" Shelton had both hands on his dome. He seemed winded, despite not having moved during the attack. "Things just got real in here."

"Sorry I froze in there, Tor." Shelton frowned as he shirt wiped his glasses. "Not exactly my 'One Shining Moment', huh?" I waved off his apology. I knew Shelton hated how skittish he could be.

I try to hide the eruptions, but the guys can always tell. They do their best to support me even though it makes them uncomfortable. It's very sweet, but teenage boys make lousy grief counsellors.

The previous semester, Ben had been in half our classes, too, despite being a junior. Obviously, he was no longer around. Sometimes it felt like a limb was missing.

"Jason might be there," Courtney chirped. "He likes you."

"Oh." Not a brilliant response. "Yeah, maybe. I might have a thing, though."

Wonderful. Good job, good effort, Tory.

Behind me, I heard Hi fake coughing to cover his snickers

"I should be a secret agent." Hi blew on his fingernails, then buffed them on his lapel. "Or a magician. Maybe both. Someone write that down."

My hands shot for the Ray-Bans, but Ben caught my fingers mid-flight.

"It's not nice to grab," he said calmly.

"I can't handle all this tension," Shelton moaned. "Too much fighting."

Hi nodded, watching Ben dissapear down a side street. "We need to work on our conflict management. Maybe attend a seminar."

"Make your own?" Hi shifted to look at my face. "Victoria Grace, have you been holding out on me?"

"Tell me everything."

"You're not gonna be happy," Hi warned. "Don't kill the messenger."

"Or his good-looking buddy," Shelton added.

"On Saturday Ben and I drove to John's Islands to see Skyfall."

"You did?" Hi said sharply. "Thanks for the invite, jerks."

Shelton raised his palms. "You were at temple. We're suppose to wait around? Plus, you've seen that movie like five times."

"You still could've asked," Hi grumbled. "I don't—"

"Guys!" I clapped my hands once. "The story, please."

"So many gentleman admirers," Hi mused. "Must be tough, being a heartbreaker."

"Zip it. Unless you wanna see a leg-breaker too."

Ella adopted a mock serious tone. "Will you bodyguards consent?"

I giggled. "If Shelton and Hi are my bodyguards, I don't like my chances. And yes."

"See this?" Ben glanced at the mirror and pointed to his chin. "This is my 'couldn't care less' face."

"Boys?" I stood and faced them. "Something to share?"

"It was a secret." Hi aimed a kick at Shelton, who dodged easily. "Ben made us swear not to tell."

I crossed my arms. Waited.

"Tell Kit we're cutting a music video," Hi suggested as we walked. "Something real gangster, so we need to smash-cut our dance routines. Lay down some visuals. We could offer to let him freestyle rap over the second verse."

"Come on, Sambo!" Hi winked. "Live a little. What are we going to do, rob the place?"

The guard crossed his arms. "Wink at me again, Hiram, and I'll throw you to the wolfpack."

"Did I not mention that?" My brain was truly deep fried. "We went together."

"Oh." Hi and Shelton at once. Ben looked away.

"Hey, wait." I leaned closer to the screen. "You guys wouldn't have wanted to go. I took Ella so I wouldn't be paraded around like Whitney's toy poodle." No one spoke. Nonplussed, I decided to change the subject.

I glowered at Ben from the backseat. I'd given Hi shotgun, having sensed this argument was inevitable. I didn't want to be close. The urge to slap might become overpowering.

"Why don't we use our friendly words?" Hi suggested. "Let's take five, and everyone can say something we like about each other. I'll start. Shelton you're super at—"

"Shut up, Hi!" Ben and I shouted, the first thing we'd agreed upon all morning.

"Must be hell to keep the pH balance correct. I know how it is. I owned a goldfish once."

"Once?" Shelton asked.

"It died. Almost immediately."

"Nice work."

"It's a cultural thing," Hi was saying. "I think you're being insensitive."

Hines snorted. "Do you want me to cuff you?"

"Kinda."

"A minute alone, Tory. I'd like a quick chat."

Ben shot forward. "You can stick chat right up—"

Hi waved at me from across the yard, waiting for his mother to arrive. Apparently he'd body-blocked the first cops to chase me through the house. The police were none too pleased. I owe you one, Hi. You bought me enough time.

Entering the Virals chat room, I found all three boys present.

Uh oh.

They'd met there ahead of time, before alerting me. To discuss me.

I glanced up to see Shelton holding latex gloves. Hi had the ziplocks. Ben handed me a cotton swab and stopper. "Anything else?"

Despite the circumstances, I smiled.

Ruth popped her son on the back of the head. "Mind your manners, Hiram."

"Why does everyone do that?" Hi muttered. "And that was child abuse. In front of the police, I might add."

He looked away. The harbour breeze ruffled his silky black hair. My hand found his, almost by its own volition.

I couldn't be mad at Ben anymore. It was like being mad at my left arm. And right then, I needed my arm back.

A smile quirked on my father's lips. "And you, Mr. Blue? Ready for a good ol'-fashioned backyard barbecue? My daughter will be there."

Ben's uneasy smile was his only response.

Ben reached up from where he was lying with his eyes closed. Smacked Hi's dome.

Hi rubbed his head. "I'm getting pretty tired of that move."

"Then quit being a dope." Ben's lids remained shut.

"Hey, sure. No problem. I just need to—"

Hi lunged for Ben, intending a flying body slam. Ben caught Hi in midair and tossed him downhill in one quick motion. Hi tumbled, rolled, and dropped over the berm of the sand.

"That was dumb." Hi informed the blue sky.

Ben started talking about Wando High. I countered with news of Bolton. Before long, we'd exchanged stories, catching up on the last five months of each other's lives. I hadn't realized how much I missed Ben. How badly I wanted him back at Bolton.

He was right, of course. I was keeping several secrets from Ben. Like how comfortable it felt to be alone with him. How much I'd missed his reassuring presence. His quiet strength.

Ben removed his shoes, plunged both feet into the lapping salt waters Then he leaned back against a post, sighing contently. The little-boy maneuver brought a smile to my face.

"You're staying out here?" Shelton asked. "Alone?"

"No big deal. I don't want Kit to see what I'm up to."

"I don't like it," Ben said. Behind him, Hi looked uneasy.

"No one knows this place exists." I pointed to the other room. "And there's an 85 pound predator in there that loves me. I'll be fine."

...

"Text me when you get home." Ben requested. "Please don't forget."

I hid a smile. "Will do. Bye, guys."

I sat forward at the table. "Okay, so ... like, don't freak out."

That got their attention.

"About?" Ben took the seat across from me, next to Hiram.

"There was an incident last night." Oh so calm. "I'm perfectly okay, but on the way hone someone attacked me on the beach."

"What?!" Three stunned voices.

"That's why you didn't text," Ben muttered.

Ben shook his head in wonderment. "Incredible. It's nice having a genius around."

"It's only genius if it works." But I flushed at the compliment.

I squeezed Ben's shoulder. "Who's the genius now?"

He snorted, looked away.

"You let her go alone?" Ben scolded, slowly working his way down to where Hi was beached. "That defeats the whole purpose!"

"I'm aware of that, Benjamin." Hi tried slinging a leg onto the riverbank, but it flopped back into the rolling current. "But she'd figured out you sent her away from the mine on purpose. You try telling Tory what to do when she's pissed."

"I'll pass."

"How's the leg, detective? Or did my wolfdog bite you in the ass, instead?"

"Hey, at least it's not your birthday. Worst one ever, by the way."

His fist came up. I dapped it with mine.

"For Tory," Shelton said.

"For Tory." All jokes shelved.

Coop was rolling in the leaves, pinning someone beneath his massive bulk.

Ben dove on the tangle with a voice-cracking whoop.

I was no longer alone. The Virals had found me. Ben was beaming, unable to hide his relief. He turned quickly, wiping his glowing eyes. Shelton darted forward and crushed me with a hug. Coop was dancing and bucking, his tail wagging so hard he had trouble keeping balance. My boys. My heroes.

"Do you confronted the twins alone, without waiting for us?" Ben couldn't keep the anger from his voice. "After making us promise not to do anything like that?"

"We can discuss my impulsiveness another time—"

"Oh, we will." Ben assured me.

I ejected the spent clip from the HK45, slammed the new one into place, then worked the slide to chamber a round. Then I held the weapon loosely at my side, barrel pointed toward the ground.

"I'm terrified of you right now," Hi said wide-eyed. "And in love. Take me shooting with your aunt Tempe next time."

"Take the SUV and go. I'll stay with Ella and handle the fallout."

"Out of your mind." Ben said immediately.

"We could drive away without anybody knowing."

"I'm not leaving Tory to face this alone," Ben insisted. "Get serious!"

I spoke softly. "The cops will eat you alive, Benjamin Blue. You have to go."

Ben tensed, ready to argue.

"Detective Hawfield died. This is going to get serious. It's way too much heat for you. Please be sensible."

Ben hesitated. Then his shoulders slumped.

"Maybe you're right." Deep breath. "But you're taking away the other possibility, too."

"I don't understand." I glanced over my shoulder at the approaching vehicle. "What other possibility?"

He smiled wanly. "Ben Blue, The Hero. That kinda would've been nice."

I paused, at a loss for words. My heart broke for him.

"But that's okay." Ben dug keys from his pocket. "After all, we're Virals, not heroes. And that's fine. Plus, I'm not really the hero type."

He turned to leave.

Impulsively, I grabbed Ben's arm. Pulled him close. Smashed my lips against his. The kiss only lasted a second, but also an eternity. Then I stepped back an shoved Ben towards the Explorer.

"Of course you're the type." I was grateful the darkness hid my blushes. "Now go."

Ben stared, stricken, thunderstruck. Hi and Shelton watched, wide-eyed with shock.

"Weirdest birthday ever," Hi whispered.

"Corcoran will survive," Ben commented sourly. "He always does. We crack the case, he gets to be the hero."

My head whipped to Ben. Was that bitterness?

I saw no trace. Ben was smiling, relaxed for the first time in days. Maybe months.

As my father strode away, Shelton and Hi both unleashed dramatic yawns.

"Welp." Hi stretch his arms over his head. "I'd better go check on various things that aren't right here. You coming, Shelton?"

"Oh you know it." Hiding a smile. "Stuff to do. No time to waste."

I descended two steps.

Stopped.

Shot back up.

Wrapped Ben in a bone-crushing hug.

Startled, it took him a moment before he hugged me back.

"He didn't say anything to me," Hi repeated. "And if Shelton were sick, I'd be the first to hear about it. At length."

"So what's the plan?" Ben asked.

"Go inside. Look around. Improvise."

"Brilliant." Hi stroked his chin. "Quick question: Is having no plan the same as having a terrible plan, or are those different categories?"

[skullhaver]

It's 2021, and I'm watching Buffy for the first time.

The Virgil on my Buffy journey is my long-distance girlfriend, who has loved the show for years. We just finished season 4, and I wanted to write about my favorite episodes so far. I suspect some of my faves are beloved by most fans, but others are weird, personal picks. Buffy fandom, please don't come for me.

I thought this post would be short but I was wrong.

Hono(u)rable Mentions: "Band Candy" S3E6 and "Halloween" S2E6

Both these episodes have fun premises where the Scoobies run around Sunnydale after it was upended by zany, chaotic dark forces. "Band Candy" is fun for devil-may-care teen Giles. "Halloween" is fun for 18th-century-ditz Buffy. These are both very good, and are the sorts of episode I can imagine happily rewatching in the future. I just have more to pontificate upon for the other episodes on this list.

10. "Ted" S2E11

I can’t say I enjoyed this episode, but it did take me for a wild ride. Probably nobody else has strong feelings about this weird story where Buffy's mom dates a stereotypical cheesy family man, who turns out to be a controlling abuser, who turns out to be a robot. I remember shouting at the screen, "Did Buffy just kill a human man?? Is it okay in the moral logic of this show for Buffy to kill a human if he's a direct physical threat to her??" I knew Buffy would have deeper stories than the monster of the week formula we'd seen so far, but this early in season 2, I had no idea when or how that would happen. This was the episode that finally taught me that Buffy is largely not interested in moral ambiguity, or in exploring what it means to be good or bad. Except for season-defining exceptions like Faith and Angel, evil characters are simplistically, essentially evil. But it was wild to believe for a moment that Buffy murdered her mom's abusive boyfriend and would have to live with the consequences.

9. "Helpless" S3E12

When Buffy tries to be genuinely scary, it succeeds with aplomb. The premise of this episode is dumb and contrived ("Giles has to remove Buffy's powers without her knowledge for a seeeecret test by the Watcher's Council") but the chase and fight in this episode are some of the most tense and spooky scenes of the whole series so far. Buffy's vulnerability makes the stakes feel real in a way few other episodes manage. And Buffy's victory is all the more satisfying because she can't punch her way out of this problem, she has to be smart and creative. The fridge horror, of course, is that Giles would endanger her like this in the first place, but that gets sorted out over the emotional arc of the next few episodes.

8. "I Only Have Eyes For You." S2E19

Another spooky episode, this one a classic ghost story of forbidden love ending in murder - but with the twist that the ghosts possess people's bodies to have them reenact their final moments. I love stories about breaking a doomed-to-repeat cycle. I love weird shit like the snakes manifesting in the cafeteria. And I really loved the choice to have Buffy and Angel come to understand their feelings about their own relationship by embodying these ghosts - especially how they embodied different genders than their own to better fit the "roles" of the haunting story, thus subverting the expected pattern. I found this episode clever, poignant, and effective.

7. "Who Are You?" S4E16

"Faith and Buffy switch bodies" is a wild premise, but the real joy of "Who Are You?" is watching Sarah Michelle Geller being an extremely talented actress for 45 minutes, portraying a totally different character. Watching Faith confronted by kindness and love from Buffy's mom, Riley, and her friends, then getting launched into an existential crisis over it is so great. Also, I just dig a good church fight.

6. "Hush" S4E10

As stated above, love an episode that reminds me that these people are talented actors! Featuring demons that render all of Sunnydale unable to talk, we get to watch great physical comedy right next to tense, silent fight scenes. The visual creepiness of the Gentleman and their straight-jacketed weird little helpers is hard to beat. "Hush" is such a clever episode that it ascends monster of the week status to become almost Twilight Zone-esque. Also, for the first time, Buffy sees Riley doing his Initiative thing, and Riley sees Buffy being the Slayer, but they can't talk about it?? That's good shit.

5. "The Wish" S3E9

Both "Something Blue" and "The Wish" feel like the writers decided to use fanfic premises on their own show... so obviously I like them a lot. But getting to watch a dark timeline AU with interesting world-building and attention to detail, a hilarious and horrifying Cordelia POV, AND a smirking kinky vampire Willow? Hello?? And the fact that the Wishverse comes up again in "Doppelgänger" (another truly fun episode) only improves my opinion. I imagine this is the kind of episode fans simply love coming back to.

4. "Restless" S4E22

This David Lynch-ass dream sequence was a weird choice for a season finale, but an extremely ambitious and cool episode. I should say up front that I love David Lynch-ass dream shit. There were creative and well-executed scene transitions as characters moved seamlessly from one dream room into another. Several memorably neat shots - Willow running between endless curtains as she tries to get onstage, Buffy alone in a vast desert with a weirdly high camera angle. And I got myself all excited thinking that the First Slayer would maybe become a different kind of antagonist - maybe not even fully revealed in this episode, or maybe an Id-like aspect of Buffy herself. But I forgot Whedon gonna Whedon, so the First Slayer had to be someone Buffy could punch in the end. And the First Slayer is sadly yet another primitive-themed, emotionally-stunted character of color for this show. Most of her lines in this episode are literally voiced by a white woman speaking for her, and of all the dumb quips to make, Buffy had a line about her hair being unprofessional? Also, I'm a lesbian, so the fact that the most explicit act of intimacy between Willow and Tara this show has allowed us to see occurs in Xander's horny dream sequence... it’s unforgivable, Joss. This episode was one of my favorites ever, deeply marred by some bad writing choices.

3. "Lovers Walk" S3E8

Spike, perhaps the best non-Willow character in this show, is back in Sunnydale, a hilariously heartbroken mess of a man, hell-bent on getting his former girlfriend Drusilla back. (Drusilla left him for a fungus demon.) So Spike breaks into a magic shop to get ingredients for a love spell, where he runs into Willow, who is getting ingredients for a de-lusting spell, because she is worried she and Xander will be too thirsty to behave appropriately in public with their actual partners, Oz and Cordelia. This is a hilarious moment just to exist. This is all the episode needed to do to satisfy me. But the fact that Spike then kidnaps Willow, and it ends with tragic stakes of everyone's relationships coming apart, not to mention me genuinely thinking Cordelia was dead for a minute there - wow. Chef’s kiss. The episode is balanced shockingly well between Spike being an ominous villain, and being the sort of lovable semi-evil (more gremlin-like) side character he'll become in season 4. What a wild ride.

2. "Graduation Day" S3E21-22

I'm counting this two part season finale as one because it's my list and I'll do what I want. "Graduation Day" feels like a quintessential Buffy episode executed to perfection. It has Buffy reaffirming her position as a moral heroine, sacrificing her own blood to save Angel's life even when she thought she had to kill Faith to save him. It has Buffy and Faith (or Buffy/Faith, as I prefer to think of them) getting to square off in a dramatic, tough fight. It has a lot of Mayor Wilkins, a character I truly adore for some reason. Nothing like a public administrator who plays mini golf in his office, wants you to chew with your mouth closed, and will kill a graduating class of high schoolers to gain immortality. The catharsis of the whole school getting to fight back against evil, instead of just Buffy against the world - a real joy. This episode misses the top spot for two reasons. "A special vampire poison and the only cure is the blood of a Slayer" is too contrived for me to let slide, and also I had to see Cordelia and Wesley kiss.

1. "Becoming" S2E21-22

Buffy’s season finales really do have good stories and satisfying payoff. First off, Buffy starts this episode by punching a cop and fleeing from the law. Later, Spike also punches a cop. A.k.a., Buffy said blue lives don't matter. Second - I haven't gotten a chance to comment on this yet, but all throughout season 2, evil Angel is such a joy to watch. As regular Angel, David Boreanaz makes exactly one face ("I am a kicked, angsty puppy") and bless his heart, it gets so tiresome. As evil Angel, he is so expressive, dynamic and terrifyingly creative in his badness. And I love his weird threesome energy with Spike and Drusilla. But also, it's so hard to watch Buffy suffer as she deals with her evil boyfriend doing evil things. Her ultimate choice in this episode, to kill Angel even as Willow's spell restores his soul, gave me some real big feels! Also, this episode marks the first moment of Willow doing big, plot-shifting magic on her own, solidifying her transformation from computer nerd to witch! 

Also, shout-out to the many good smaller moments in this episode: Spike making awkward small talk with Buffy's mom, Buffy constantly dunking on Principle Snyder, and Giles being tortured by visions of Miss Calendar (RIP Miss Calendar, I was your biggest fan.)

"Becoming" is an excellent season finale and the kind of Buffy episode I imagine I will want to re-watch in the future just for nostalgia's sake.

[vegetacide]

Veggie art’ing Part II complete…  This is a continuation of THIS 

Also for something a bit new as I had several notes asking what was going on with the previous pic I wrote a little something to accompany this.  It took a rather unexpected direction on me as I had ordinally intended for this to be a reconciliation picture..   Just were my mind veered for some reason.. I blame these two idiots…

I have spent far too long plunking away at this so bare with me if its absolutely crap. 

Anyway.. if you wish to read it.. look check out below 

Working title: …haven’t come up with one yet.. meh. Sue me

Blanket warning: Hints to adult subject matter that some might find offensive or triggery..mentions of past trama…. etc etc

Rating: Teen.. I guess

Word count: 2726 words 

Characters: Virgil/Kayo

Fandom: TaG’verse A/U

Location: My made up beach house located somewhere on Tracy Island..  

Veggie notes:   Any errors are completely my own and I am sure I will catch them at some point on one of my obsessive read throughs of self doubt.  :D

Enjoy…

o0o 

Damn, how in the world had it come to this? 

Virgil watched as she padded on quiet, bare feet across the beach house deck.  Retreating again and effectively shutting him out.  Her slender shoulders so small under the too big flannel of his shirt, were hunched as she protectively wrapped her arms around herself. Closing off like she always did when things got too close and too real for her to deal with. 

His chest hurt, a dull ache behind his breast bone and he rubbed at it subconsciously.  Like his heart was too big and in its floundering it was trying to break through the meager sack of flesh that housed it.

Cursing, he rubbed at it again and resisted the urge to drive his fist in the plastered wall of the beach house.  The effort wouldn’t serve any meaningful purpose anyways other than splitting his knuckles. There was no detracting from his present circumstances and potential broken bones wouldn’t change that. 

He should have taken more care with his words instead of letting his thoughts run free as he did and he kicked himself for his short sightedness,  not that it fixed anything.  He’d been too caught up in his own little world,  completely forgetting the reality they were living and now here they were. 

On opposing ends of a vast chasm.  Him holding on with all his might to keep his family whole while Kayo fought against it. The horrible twisted image of family that a mad man had imprinted on her at too young an age warping her view on things to the detriment of them both.    An idea she had been fighting her whole life to make different and one she couldn’t escape, it seemed no matter how hard they tried to.  

The old doubts and worries were always just beneath the surface just waiting to spring forth to bugger things up. The present being a prime example.  

The morning had started out completely different and felt almost like a dream to where they were now.   Warm and lazy with a vague like quality one found just upon waking.   

Kayo had been snuggled in his arms. Her legs tangled with his among the rumpled sheets. A sweet ocean breeze blowing through the gossamer curtains and dancing pleasantly over their satiated bodies.  Wicking the dew of sweat from their skin as their pulses slowed and their minds drifted back from the bliss of carnal sensation. 

His fingers had been lazily tracing up and down her back, over the sinewy grace of her shoulders and down the curve of her spine. Paying homage and mapping every glorious inch to his artist brain. 

He’d been lost in a day dream of what could be. The gentle rise of her hip, the varied valleys of her ribs  directing the course of his thoughts.  A picture was forming of a future, one that stretched out before them like a blank canvas, waiting for them to take up the brush and fill it with colour and life. 

A story in images had started to sketch itself  in his mind’s eye.  The two of them, together.  Healing, growing and evolving with a world of opportunity before them and nothing to hold them back. 

Not being able to contain himself as he lazed with her, Virgil had voiced his thoughts. Letting loose all that he’d hoped for.   A tumble of words spewing forth that had Kayo suddenly growing still and stiff to his touch. 

“Virgil,  stop…”  Had been all she’d uttered before she’d turned from his embrace and slipped from the soft comfort of their bed.  Her hair a tumble of love tousled ebony, hiding her face. 

“It would be a nice picture to paint.”  He’d replied, mind still on other things and not on the present.   “Go anywhere, wherever we want.  Take in the sights for a change instead of just jetting by them.  Go to that little cabin by that lake I told you about… it would be a perfect spot to..”

“Enough! …” The abruptness of her raised voice had him snapping his jaw shut.  

With jerking motions, she’d grabbed up his shirt.  The match to his favourite pair of lounge pants.   The one she loved to cozy into and entice him with. A glimpse of flesh here as it rode up her thighs, a flash there as supple mounds peaked out between the row of loosed buttons. Now though it covered her in a different manner entirely.  Like a shield, she clasped it tightly 

He’d pushed up to his elbows, brows dropped low with concern as he’d finally taken note that something wasn’t quite right..  “Kay?"  

She’d cast her gaze back at him then.  The briefest of looks had been enough for him to catch the shadow of disquiet in them.  Their usual vibrancy muddied by brewing clouds of anger that had him sliding from the sheets and reaching for her. 

“Don’t.” Was all she said, shaking her head as he’d risen and moved towards her.  Her hands held aloft to hold him back as she’d strode from the room.  

“What… Tin,  what’s going on?”  

Grabbing up his pants Virgil had stumbled after her, hopping as he yanked them on amid a  litany of colourful words. 

“Shit… Wait..”  

Steps later he was confronted by a fury he hadn’t expected considering where and what they had been doing mere moments before.  

She had been pacing like a caged animal,  across the expanse of the living room and back again.  Rage flowing from her with each hurried step. 

“What…?”  Was all he managed to say before she turned on him.  Fire in her gaze,  colour high on her cheeks.  

“You know what?”  She seethed, poking a finger in his direction as she did another circuit of the room.

He’s own anger bubbled to the surface,  “Actually, I don’t. So would you enlighten me to whatever erroneous infraction it is that you think that I’ve done?”  

“Oh, don’t give me that.  You know exactly what the problem is.”

Virgil’s brows shot up as her words had struck a chord in his grey matter. “Problem? You really think…”

“What in the hell were we thinking?!”  She growled out, shoving a chair out to the way and knocking it over with a crash. “Selfish..Stupid.”

“With the lives we lead….You can’t ask this of me!”   

Her words had been like a physical blow and Virgil had taken an involuntary step back. She’d wanted her words to hurt and she’d succeeded.  She never did pull her punches and her aim was as impeccable as ever.

He’d seen the realization of what she’d said flicker through her gaze but she’d quickly buried it. Instead of saying more, she shook her head, turned  her back on him once more and walked out the open sliding doors putting more than just distance between them. 

And he’d let her go,  his shoulders slumping at the writing between the lines of what had been said. In his mind there was only one option open to them but maybe for her that wasn’t the case. The implications of those options was something he couldn’t dare to fathom…but it was a road he wouldn’t let her travel down alone.  

He had a responsibility to uphold,  as  her husband and as the man he prided himself on being.  A rescuer in dark times, when there was no one else capable of the job and sometimes those that needed rescuing were closer to home.

Squaring his shoulders he went after her.  She was begging for a fight. An obvious distraction from the core reasoning behind her lashing out at him but he wouldn’t take her up on the invitation.   He wouldn’t let her push him away to deal with whatever this was on her own. 

Passing through the doors,  his eyes scanned over the deck and his breath had caught.   

She looked so small, fragile and it had brought him up short. Slumping,  he braced himself between a support post and the beach house wall.  An uncanny exhaustion suffusing him as he saw the uphill battle of the task ahead.  A task he was determined to see through to the end, no matter the outcome. 

He hated seeing her like this and despite her best efforts to push him away, Virgil knew her too well.  Had spent most of his life knowing her.  He could read her nuances, gestures and mood even when she tried to close off from him like she was trying to do now under a mask of anger.  

“Tin,”  He said carefully, dropping his hand and pushing away from the post.  He drew in a breath and let it out slowly, letting the tension slip from his shoulders.   Approaching her with all guns blazing would only crank her defenses up higher and wouldn’t get them anywhere.

He watched her stance with a practiced eye as he stepped closer.  She was like an abused animal.  Even with all of her training, when she was emotionally compromised as she was right now the scared little girl she had been came to the fore.  The one they met when she’d first came to live with them, hiding behind her father’s leg.   

He hadn’t known her history then,  the actions of her uncle and the effect that it would have on the rest of her life.  How it would shape her into the strong, determined woman she was today.  Never letting anyone get close enough to see the frightened child she closeted away inside.  Virgil though had managed to find his way inside,  found the cracks in her apparent impenetrable armour and had broken through to  the core of the woman inside.  The one she tried desperately to hide from the world in a shell of fierce resolve and purpose.  

Under it all was a woman, who had seen too much.  Abused, battered, basically orphaned by her absentee father and desperately afraid.  To top it all off, she hated the weakness and fought tooth and nail to hide it from everyone.  With the exception of him,  she didn’t have a choice there. He’d wormed his way in and he wouldn’t stand by and let her retreat from herself or from him.  

Gently he placed his hands on her tight shoulders,  cupping their slender, wavering strength and he whispered her name again.  “Tanusha…”  

Her head bowed further,  a meager attempt to hide in the fall of her hair but he could feel the quiver in her body now,  hear the soft stuttered intake of her breath.  She was crying and trying oh so hard not to be. 

Pain and love swelled through his chest, and an undeniable protectiveness.  

Virgil pulled her back into his embrace, encircling his arms around her waist and with little resistance she melted.  

“I’m sorry,”  He whispered over the curve of her ear,  brushing his lips across the elven-like arch of it.  “I’m so sorry.”  

He put all his love he could into the words, hoping that by apologizing for something he wasn’t wholly the cause of would help alleviate her suffering in some way. 

“I wasn’t thinking and it was insensitive of me.”  He tightened his hold on her,  reassurance imbued into the gesture and slowly began to rock giving her the time to pull herself back together again. 

The slight tremor slowly dissipated,  her breathing settling into a somewhat normal rhythm and he knew that she was ready to hear. More so when she dragged in a ragged breath and exhaled a long drawn out sigh. He could almost hear her counting to ten in her head.  A method she used to reign back in some of her control and a calm he knew well creeped back in. One that camouflaged a great deal of hurt. 

He did the same,  his warm breath stirring her hair and ghosting across the smooth column of her neck which peeked out from the drooping collar of his shirt.   

“You know we’ve got this, right?”  He questioned though he wasn’t expecting an answer.  “Yes,  he’s out…”  She stilled once more in his hold but Virgil couldn’t stop now,  Kayo needed to hear this even if it was just a band-aid to the problem.   He couldn’t sit by and let her lose herself in fear so he pushed on. There was too much at stake.

“Yes,  he’s upped his game in a big way.  Dad knew he was capable,  your Dad knew….” A flinch at the mention of the absentee man but again he pressed on.  There was no backing down now.  What he had to say, needed to be said.  

“We were unprepared but we know better now and I promise you, Tanusha Kyrano Tracy;  just like I did on the day you said ‘Yes’.. That I will never,  ever let that man hurt you again.”  

He slipped a hand down,  between the soft folds of flannel,  across her silky, soft skin that concealed honed muscle and deadly skills. Brushed the edge of fine lace and stilled, cupped and shielded that which was only known to the two of them.  

With strength of purpose his chest swelled,  a determination unlike any he had ever known bulked up the threat behind his next words.  “I’ll do everything in my power to protect both of you, I swear it or the Hood will regret the day he heard the name Tracy.”

She turned, taking his hand in her own and lightly brushing her lips across his knuckles. “You’re too good for me Virgil Grissom Tracy and I don’t deserve you.”  

The brief storm of anger has fled from her eyes, leaving behind only doubt and fear.  “But I don’t think it’s as easy as that. You’re too good a man to stoop to such levels and I don’t think I could live with myself if you made that sort of sacrifice on my behalf. 

Besides,  what sort of life could we offer with him out there.   He’s already been the cause of so much pain.  You and your brother’s have suffered for years because of it..I don’t think I would have the strength if he was to get you or….” 

Virgil’s frowned.  “Tin,  I married you.  All of you and everything you brought with you. I knew full well what I was marrying into but that man,  that bastard… he can’t come between us and what we want unless you let him.”  

Her gaze dropped and with gentle fingers he lifted her chin and waited for her to meet his pleading eyes.  “Don’t let him win… not in this. Please God, not in this.”  

“We may not have a choice…” Came the whisper of her response, her forehead resting against his own as a lingering tear slipped from her lashes. 

“Tin, please….”

“Virgil, I love you.  God, how I love you but I can’t tell you what you want to hear.  Not right now. If the Hood found out…. 

Just then the island klaxon blared  and Virgil’s comms started to ping with urgency.

Kayo took a step back from him and he stared after her. Brain going a mile a minute with words he wanted to say,  emotions he wanted to express.   

“Go…” She said with resignation, her arms once more crossing over her frame.   “You’re needed..” 

“I’m needed more here.”  

His comms buzzed again followed by the voice of his star loving sibling. “Virgil, you’re needed in Ops. A.S.A.P.  Please confirm.””  

Conflicted, Virgil stood unmoving,  his fist clenched at his side.   Trapped between the woman he loved and the life they’d chosen.  

“Go,  I’ll be here when you get back..”   

His brother’s voice sounded again from his comms, pulling him in two directions at once.  The hint of stress he picks up in it though had him unfreezing and heading for the underground access to the hanger.  

Passing through the automated door and hitting his comms to reply to John, he looked back at Kayo.  His heart sinking and doubt filling him as he watched her turn away from him.  

Uncertainty prickling across his skin as he questioned the validity of her words but there was nothing he could do right now.   Lives were at stack…more so than just those that needed rescuing and his hands were tied… 

“FAB John,  on my way…”

FIN….????

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien: Among the Wild Things: Chapter Eleven

Read it on AO3: Among the Wild Things: Chapter Eleven: Confrontation

The royal mausoleum was dim and a little dank; the solid stone walls and the flickering torches did little to keep out the dark chill of death.

Adrien led the way down into the crypt where the kings and queens of the past slept underneath the floor tiles and life-size statues in niches along the walls were the chief markers of which tenants rested where.

Luka found himself more than a little unsettled. He was just waiting for one of the statues to move, and he could swear he felt their eyes on him.

Adrien, however, made his way through the tomb seemingly unbothered by the images of his deceased forebearers. He also appeared to know exactly where he was going, quickly heading to the end of the row.

Luka guessed that Adrien had been to visit his mother many times over the years and was well accustomed to the place.

“Maman,” Adrien breathed, voice filled with emotion as he went up to the statue of a lovely young woman posed seated on a stone bench. She smiled tranquilly, her sightless eyes giving off a dreamy quality.

Adrien sank to his knees at her feet, placing his hand on top of her folded ones and resting his head in her lap.

“I missed you,” he whimpered. “It was so hard not even having a picture of you. I was afraid I was going to forget your face just like I’m forgetting your voice.”

Luka bit his lip, tempted to go kneel beside Adrien and wrap his arms around his mate to hold him together. At the same time, though, he didn’t want to interrupt the clearly personal moment.

Before Luka could decide, Adrien regained his composure and rose to his feet, turning his attention to the statue standing behind his mother’s with his hand possessively resting on her shoulder.

Luka had no trouble recognizing King Gabriel from the portrait Adrien had pulled out of the desk drawer in his mother’s room the night before. Surprisingly, Gabriel’s statue didn’t look new. It showed the same wear and weathering as his wife’s, indicating that the King had probably ordered the two made as a pair when the Queen had died.

“Father,” Adrien levelly addressed Gabriel’s imposing image as it scowled severely in judgment. “…I’m sorry that I didn’t say goodbye…. I’ve regretted that, but you made me feel trapped, so I didn’t think I had the option. I had to escape while I could without looking back. I hope you can at least appreciate the decisiveness of my actions.”

Predictably, Gabriel made no reply.

Adrien took a step back with a sigh, now addressing both parents as he continued, “I’m sorry that I was never really the son you’d hoped for. I’m sorry for all the disappointments.”

He then turned to look at Luka, holding out his hand for his husband to come take.

Luka swiftly answered the entreaty, coming to stand by his mate’s side, holding his hand as they presented a united front.

“I think you two always knew I wasn’t interested in women,” Adrien snorted softly. “Maybe you knew even before I did and that’s why you always said disparaging things about people who experience homosexual attraction. Maybe you thought it was some kind of choice I could un-make or an urge I could fight if I were strong enough…but it’s not.”

Luka inched in closer so that his shoulder pressed supportively against Adrien’s.

“I tried,” Adrien pleaded, his voice strained by building tears. “I tried really hard to be the son and heir you wanted. I just couldn’t make myself, quote-unquote, ‘normal’…and I’ve learned now in the past six months that that illusory ‘normal’ doesn’t exist. I don’t have to fix myself,” Adrien asserted, the tears leaving his voice to be replaced by strength and conviction.

“There’s nothing wrong with me that needs fixing. It’s okay to be gay. It’s actually something really beautiful and special…something that makes me me,” he tried to explain as a sad-but-daring-to-hope smile shyly tilted up the corners of his lips. “And I’ve found someone who loves and treasures me just the way I am.”

He nervously smiled at Luka before looking back to his parents’ statues. “Maman, Father…this is Luc…my husband.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Majesties,” Luka greeted, crossing his left arm over his chest and inclining forward into a slight bow, not really sure what the protocol was for meeting deceased royal in-laws.

“Maman, you would have loved him,” Adrien insisted excitedly, but then his expression sobered, and he amended, tempering his remark, “…at least…I’m sure you would have loved him if you could see past him being fae and married to your son.”

Luka squeezed Adrien’s hand, signaling that he was right there beside Adrien no matter what.

“I hope you would have eventually seen past all that,” Adrien added softly. “He takes good care of me, Maman. He’s a good person, and his love and support help me get a little closer to my full potential and being the person I want to be,” he testified, praying that his assurances would have been enough if she’d still been living.

“I have the kind of love you told me fairy stories about, Maman,” he informed her pleadingly. “Please don’t despise me just because I couldn’t find that kind of happiness with a mortal woman.”

Next, Adrien turned back to his father, a wry smile sliding into place on his lips as he chuckled, “Sometimes you did things that made me think, ‘See? He really does love me after all’. …I know you would never approve of this marriage,” he admitted with a melancholy shake of his head, “but there’s a part of me that hopes that my happiness with a fae man wouldn’t kill that little spark of affection you felt for me.”

With a tearful choke, Adrien retreated into Luka’s arms, burying his face in his mate’s chest. “I guess we’ll never know, though.”

Luka shook his head in disagreement, insisting, “They would have come around. Maybe they would have resented me for a while, and I’m sure they wouldn’t have approved of our union, but, after some time passed, they would see how happy we are together. They wouldn’t be able to begrudge a marriage that made their son happy.”

“I think you’re a bit too naïve, My Love,” Adrien sighed, but Luka’s assertions did make the tears stop. “My world can be cruel and uncaring.”

“Yes, but I refuse to believe that any parents who managed to produce a sweet, compassionate, loving person like you could reject their son because of who he loves,” Luka continued to fight Adrien’s assumptions.

“…Maybe.” Adrien finally allowed the possibility to germinated and take root in his mind. “Maybe they would come around after a while.”

“You’d win them over eventually,” Luka assured, squeezing his beloved tightly, happy to see Adrien through all the ups and downs that came with facing the demons of the life he’d left behind.

 Once Adrien regained his composure and bade his goodbyes to his parents, they headed back to the Queen’s chambers where they found Alya and Nino waiting for them, making themselves comfortable in the sitting area of the room on the settee.

“Dri!” Alya trilled in delight when she saw him, scrambling to her feet and dashing across the room to envelope him in a hug that knocked the air out of his lungs.

“It’s good to see you, Alya,” Adrien chuckled as best as he could without the benefit of oxygen. “Thank you for coming.”

She pulled back so that she was at arms’ length, holding him by the biceps to study him better. “Sunshine, you never told me you were the crown prince of the Kingdom of Agreste!” she accused.

Adrien shrugged and gave a sheepish smile. “I mean…you knew I was a prince. I told you that.”

She rolled her hazel eyes and snorted impatiently. “Yeah, but you took Luc for your mate—no offence.”

Luka smiled wryly, lifting and lowering his eyebrows in a manner that clearly stated that he was used to this kind of abuse and didn’t take it to heart.

“I thought you were the prince of some backwater, no-name kingdom,” Alya explained, “but here it turns out that you’re, like, the prince!”

“Technically, he’s the king now,” Luka pointed out helpfully.

A blush of embarrassment sparked to life on Alya’s cheeks, and her lips rounded into an “O” as she remembered the whole reason Adrien had come to the palace in the first place.

“I’m really sorry about your father, by the way,” she offered sheepishly, suddenly feeling bad for the way she’d been gossiping just the day before about the news of King Gabriel’s death and what the kingdom was going to do what with their prince missing.

She remembered the way she’d caught wind of the Queen’s death six years prior and had spent a prodigious amount of time and energy feeding on the conspiracy theories surrounding it. All at once, she felt ill because she’d treated her dear friend’s tragedy as a form of entertainment.

“I’m really sorry, Dri,” she repeated it earnestly, knowing as she squeezed his arm in support that she could never make any of it up to him.

Adrien nodded, looking down at the floor as he whispered a tired, “Thank you.”

Luka and Nino were at his side at once, resting comforting hands on shoulders and giving his hair loving tussles.

A thin smile spread across Adrien’s lips, and he looked back up at Alya with a deep weariness in his eyes. “It’s been difficult, but I’m making it through somehow. Having Luc by my side has been a blessing.”

Alya nodded, feeling awkward and, for once, unsure of what to say.

“But let’s focus on happier things, shall we?” Adrien forced himself to smile wider, trying to inject an air of levity into the conversation. “Did you hear about the wedding and the coronation scheduled for this evening?”

Alya’s eyes lit up, and she latched onto the new topic with unfeigned enthusiasm. “Oh, yes! I was just pumping Nino for information when you came in. It sounds so exciting! The pomp and the ceremony and the big feast afterwards!” She gave a vulpine bark of delight. “I wish I could see it all for myself. I’ve always dreamed of human celebrations like this.”

“You can come,” Adrien informed with a shrug that suggested it was as nothing for him to make her wildest, most cherished dreams come true.

“Really?” She almost stopped breathing.

Adrien nodded and shrugged again. “I’m king. If I say you can come, you can come, and if anyone has a problem with that, they can get over it because my word is literally law,” he assured, taking a heady pleasure in his newfound control. “…I mean, until I can foist the leadership of this kingdom upon someone else, but…”

“I would literally die of happiness,” Alya whined, near tears as she squirmed in excitement.

“Nino will have to chaperon you,” Adrien laid out the conditions.

“I can do that,” Nino gladly volunteered, looking forward to having more time to chat with the interesting fae woman.

“Just for safety,” Adrien explained. “My subjects can be a little…backward…when it comes to issues of embracing diversity. Some of them might be a bit uncomfortable if they knew you were a fox spirit, so I think it’s best if you stay close to Nino so he can help you out and keep you safe.”

“No complaints here!” Alya assured chipperly.

“And we’ll have to see about getting you a suitable dress for the event so that you fit in,” Adrien continued, voicing items of concern as they came to mind. “Nino, could you take her to see Marinette about that?”

Nino gave a snort, shaking his head as he grinned. “Marinette is going to kill you.”

Adrien waved away Nino’s assertion. “Marinette won’t kill me. Marinette loves me. She’s got at least twenty dresses just sitting around that she could make some quick adjustments to for Alya.”

“Marinette is going to kill you,” Luka snickered, imagining the seamstress’s face when Nino arrived with the request from the young king, her eyes bloodshot from working through the night on the coronation/wedding outfits. “She’s going to be livid.”

“It’ll be fine,” Adrien insisted, unconcerned. “I have faith in the supernatural abilities of my Royal Court Seamstress. There’s a reason she’s the youngest person ever to hold the title.”

“There will be shrieking,” Nino chuckled. “She’s going to take me by the shoulders and throttle me in your place.”

“You’ll survive,” Adrien promised with a wink, going over to where the decadent breakfast Alya had brought was spread out on the coffee table. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m starving.”

“You’re going to be able to hear the shrieking all the way in town. People are going to think a demon has descended upon the land,” Nino muttered resignedly.

“They already think that about me,” Luka hummed as he followed Adrien over to the sitting area.

Alya arched an eyebrow in confusion. “How could they confuse you with an oni? Have they never seen one before? Don’t they have picture books? Didn’t you tell them you’re a kelpie?”

 By the time Adrien and Luka returned from their morning out and sat down to breakfast, the rest of the castle inhabitants were starting to get up and move about, getting on with their day.

Nathalie soon appeared to give them their first briefing of the day, and then it was a flurry of servants and advisors coming in and out, checking about this, asking about that, all working together (or at odds with one another) to prepare for the day’s events.

It reminded Luka of watching his mother in action at a town hall where everyone gathered to make their concerns and desires known. It boggled Luka’s mind how many different decisions Adrien had to make, how many people’s concerns he had to deal with, all the orders there were to give.

Luka wondered if the daily life of a king was always like that or if it were just because of the last-minute nature of the wedding-slash-coronation.

Everyone seemed to be in a rush, and everyone was vying for Adrien’s time and attention.

“I hate you,” Marinette announced as she came in just after noon for a fitting.

“You love me,” Adrien corrected, encircling her in a warm hug.

“No, I really think I hate you,” Marinette snorted, even as she squeezed him back. “I love Alya, however, so I’m definitely keeping her. I’m not so sure about you.”

“Were you able to find a dress that could be modified for her?” Adrien inquired as they pulled apart and Marinette went to the rack she had brought in to get the garments for Luka and Adrien to try on.

“Yes, I actually have a gorgeous orange dress that’s going to look ravishing on her. I did the measurements and marked it up for alterations. Manon’s working on it now,” Marinette informed.

“Nino’s going to faint when he sees her,” Luka hummed happily. He had been pleased with the chemistry between them that he had witnessed during breakfast, and he had high expectations for Alya in formalwear.

“Are you shipping them now?” Adrien snickered as he accepted the garment bag from Marinette.

“Nino is a good man; he deserves happiness, and I think Alya could be a good fit,” Luka replied with an innocent shrug, as if he weren’t actively scheming to get them together.

“I’m in favor of this pairing,” Marinette reported. “Nino’s been a mopey mess since you’ve been gone, leaving him with no one to moon over. If you’re going to be going back home to the fair folk before long, it would be nice if he had someone to take a romantic interest in so that he didn’t feel so lonely.”

“Yeah,” Adrien sighed, feeling guilty. “It would be nice if he had someone. I don’t want him to feel left out, especially now that both of us are going to have partners.”

“He’ll find the right person in time,” Marinette tried to assure with an encouraging smile. “Nino is a great guy; he’s bound to find love…so go on and try your suit out, and don’t worry so much about Nino.”

Adrien nodded, going behind the screen to change.

Luka nearly overheated when Adrien came out wearing a three-piece suit. The jacket was a long, royal blue tailcoat with striking silver embroidery tastefully done down the front of the jacket and around the sleeves. White pants and an ascot completed the look, and, as much as Luka loved his husband in his everyday clothes, Luka found that expensive clothing really suited Adrien.

“I think he’s speechless,” Adrien chuckled, running a hand through his hair, mussing it up. “Excellent job, Marinette.”

“I don’t know if I can really take the credit,” Marinette snickered. “My suit wouldn’t be half as stunning if you weren’t smoking hot.”

“True,” Adrien laughed, giving a spin to make the coattails fan out.

Luka gulped.

“All right.” Marinette gave Luka a clap on the back as she pushed a second garment bag into Luka’s arms. “Your turn, if you think you can walk.”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Luka cleared his throat and held the garment bag in front of himself to preserve his modesty as he slunk uncomfortably across the room to the changing screen.

His own outfit was nearly identical to Adrien’s saving for the colour scheme which was inversed. Luka’s jacket and vest were white while his pants, ascot, and the embroidery on his jacket were a beautiful blue to match Adrien.

“If you need help putting anything on, just ask,” Marinette called out helpfully. “I’ve dressed plenty of people in my line of work, so you won’t scandalize me or anything. Most nobles have people who dress them, so it’s really not a big deal.”

“I’m good, but thank you very much,” Luka assured as he fought a little with the innumerable buttons.

When he was content that he looked presentable, he stepped out from behind the screen and was more than satisfied with the effect his appearance had on his mate.

Adrien’s eyes dilated, and his mouth dropped open slightly as a hearty blush spread across the bridge of his nose from one cheek to the other.

Luka zeroed in on Adrien’s throat as he swallowed hard.

“Marinette, if you don’t mind, I think I need half an hour alone with my husband to discuss important marriage stuff,” Adrien informed as he strode across the room, grabbed Luka, and dipped him into a hungry kiss.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Marinette protested with an exasperated huff, watching futilely as Adrien pulled Luka back up only to escort him over to the bed (stealing breathy kisses the whole way) and push Luka down onto it.

“Adrien, I swear, if you harm so much as a button on those outfits, I will assassinate you myself,” she growled, lamenting the fact that she had done too good of a job making both grooms look incredibly handsome.

“I love you, Marinette, but get out,” Adrien hummed happily. “That’s an order.”

Stewing and clenching her fists and jaw, Marinette stormed towards the exit, threatening over her shoulder, “Don’t you dare rip his clothes off with your teeth, Adrien! I will kill you. Take them off like civilized people and hang them up on the rack in their bags. Then copulate like bunnies. I don’t care, but don’t you dare—”

Marinette nearly got hit by the door as Nathalie entered the room.

“—Oh! Lady Sancoeur! I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.” Marinette hastened to curtsy.

Adrien rolled off of Luka with a startled yelp, looking very much like a chastened schoolboy caught by his mother.

“…Am I interrupting?” Nathalie inquired blandly, her eyebrow arching upwards.

“Marinette was just making sure our clothes fit for the ceremony,” Adrien explained sheepishly.

Luka—who had been inoculated to this brand of embarrassment by being walked in on by or walking in himself on his mother, Rose, and Juleka—tried to stifle his laughter and an amused grin with varying degrees of success.

Adrien was adorable as he blushed and fidgeted nervously.

Luka leaned in and pressed a comforting kiss to his temple. “Everything seems to fit wonderfully, so we were just about to change back into our regular clothes until it gets closer to time for the ceremony,” Luka added to lend Adrien’s story credibility. “Marinette is truly amazing to have completed such a daunting task so quickly and so well. I’m extremely impressed.”

“Oh, well,” Marinette laughed bashfully, breaking out into a wide grin of pleasure at his lavish praises. “I couldn’t have done it without the help of my team. I’m very lucky to work with many talented people I can trust implicitly.”

“And we’re very lucky to have you to lead them,” Nathalie added, nodding her approval (a rare commodity).

Then, Nathalie was back to business, getting to the point. “The rings have just arrived from the jeweler, and we need to make sure they fit and meet with your approval so that there’s enough time to make corrections, if there are issues.”

“Oh. Right,” Adrien responded as one coming out of a reverie. He furrowed his brow and pursed his lips as he got up and came over to inspect the rings which Nathalie had fished out of little satin bags.

“Sorry. I know we talked about getting rings for the ceremony this morning, but…” He nervously began to twist the ring Luka had made for him around his finger.

It didn’t feel right to replace it or even to take it off. His subjects might not consider the ceremony that Anarka had officiated at or the private rituals Luka and Adrien had exchanged in their room that first day they committed themselves to one another to be legitimate or legally binding, but Adrien did.

The makeshift ring Luka had placed on Adrien’s finger that day was a real wedding ring to him, and it felt wrong to renounce it like this.

Luka came up behind Adrien, wrapping his arms around him to give him a supportive squeeze. “It’s okay, My Love,” he assured, gingerly taking Adrien’s hand and slipping off the ring, moving it over to the ring finger of Adrien’s right hand. “It doesn’t really matter which finger it’s on, does it? Isn’t the important thing that I put it there?”

Adrien hummed thoughtfully, studying the effect of this new placement.

“…Yeah,” he finally sighed, nodding decisively. “I guess you’re right, but this is only for the ceremony. Tonight, we’re switching them back. My real wedding ring gets pride of place.”

“As you wish,” Luka easily agreed, letting Adrien switch Luka’s ring from his left hand to his right as well so that they could try on the new rings.

Luka reached out for the one that Nathalie indicated was Adrien’s but then stopped, looking uncertainly at the advisor. “I remembered to tell you about my iron allergy…right?”

Nathalie gave him the vaguest hint of a smile as she assured, “You did, and I triple checked with the jeweler, so there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Thank you.” Luka smiled nervously as he hesitantly picked up the ring, poking it with the tip of one finger first to test it before taking hold of it with confidence.

Both of the rings fit comfortably, and the fitting ended without incident.

Marinette finished inspecting both outfits and identified small details that could be improved while Nathalie gave the boys what felt like their dozenth briefing of the day.

Even after Nathalie and Marinette were both satisfied and left, that didn’t end the whirlwind of people coming in and out of the Queen’s chambers, needing Adrien’s approval or input on this or that.

Luka felt like he barely had time to breathe as the day quickly slipped away and, suddenly, it was time for the ceremony.

[oh-theatre]

Objection!: Chapter 28

Chapter title: Two Unlikely Loves

A/n: Im sorry chapters have been shorter and they've been so bad im so so sorry im trying and im messing up and im just trying and im sorry for the awfulness that is this chapter. anyway here you go

First | Previous | Next

words: 2031

summary: Tensions run high as the courthouse is under siege

pairings: Eventual logicality, prinxiety, platonic demus, romantic remile

warnings: Murder mention, child murder, Law and Courtroom, swearing, blood, hospital, crime scene,  murder, gun mention, guns, swearing, abuse, graphic descriptions, alcohol, shooting, crying

Ao3 Link  

They all rushed in, practically tripping over one another.

“Patton!” They cry, all in different tones of utter concern. Not Logan however, he bides his time, avoiding eye contact as everyone gives their hearty hellos and tearful reliefs. “Why don't we give them some time?” He hears Barbara whisper, the group nods and somehow he's left alone in the awkward silence of an unusually quiet Patton. Realizing he hadn't said a word to anyone who had come in. 

“Lo” he begins, Logan hears his voice finally and he understands what he feels. Anger, he wishes not to speak to Patton. Not now, not ever. “Logan” Patton tries again, the man can hear the softest break in his sweet tone. What was he thinking? How dare he ignore Patton. 

He coughs, breaking his own silence but that's it. He will not make the first move, he should have been trusted. Why didn't he..”trust me?” He hadnt meant to let the words fall, he hadn't given them such permission. 

“Oh starlight”

Damn Patton was good, he almost took to look at him. He continues to stare around the room, it felt bland, unlike his gorgeous eyes who he could find himself lost in. He listens, the shifting and sudden grunts of struggle catches him off guard. He turns, finding Patton's feet trembling as he clutches desperately to his IV line as he barely steps forward. Logan can see the pain and he finds himself completely in motion.

“Patton” He chides, rushing over he takes the shaking arms, situating the stubborn lawyer back on the edge of the bed. Kneeling in front of him with a deep breath of relief. “Do you enjoy bringing pain” Logan jokes, but finds no ease in Patton's face. The tears swell and he shakes his sorry head. “Oh sunshine” He sighs

“I'm so sorry” Patton laments, Logan, though slight, shakes his apology away. He leans up, taking the man's cheek, kissing him softly as they melt into one. God how he missed him. Patton deepend said kiss, not that either mind one bit. 

“If you ever..” Logan begins, gasping for short breaths, his blush quite noticeable “Do that again..” Patton nods, understanding instantly. 

“Not planning too...at least not this year” He shrugs, Logan nudges him, squeezing his leg sweetly. “C’mere” He gestures, they connect once more, it's soft and feels light in this heavy world. Once away, they allow their fingers to fiddle together, the puzzle just fits. It was their puzzle, years to find all the corner pieces but now it was their turn to fill in the middle. A quick gasp escapes Patton, he pushes gently on Logan. “The twins!” He exclaims, was it some kind of sense?

“Papa!” They cry in unison, rushing into the room barreling through Logan. Both decide to speak the fastest they can muster, speeding through their weeks and adventures. Patton listens intently, his eyes hazing to a prideful Logan. He wasn't sure what came over him but the overwhelming feeling of simply breaking down was noticeable. Not to the twins, nor Emile….but Logan saw it instantly. 

“Hey, why don't you both venture to the shops with Emile and pick out a nice gift for your father” Logan suggests, Patton trembles as he waves them a careful goodbye not sure how much longer he can hold up. Once the door shuts Logan works quick as Patton shatters. Seeing the twins was the breaking point, his head pounds. Logan helps the quiet man and his tears back into bed, once settled he cuddles Patton, a comforting rub to his harms and Patton clutches hard. Logan can feel the wet soak him but he doesn't care, nothing but Patton concerns him.  

“I'm so sorry” He sniffles, barely audible through his almost fearful sobs. As if any louder and he could get in serious trouble...Logan's heart sunk. He pushes the image of Liam out of his mind kissing Patton's forehead. This was their room, area and moment. Nobody dare touch the ever fragile bubble. Ready to collapse, become delicate glass to fall.  It takes awhile but the exhaustion sets in and Patton falls into it, releasing Logan before he does, giving him the freedom not to bear him down. Logan sighs sitting up, he checks the clock realizing he himself may have dozed off as well. The best sleep he had gotten in a month, though guilty he was so thankful for Patton being here, awake. 

“Mm” He rubs his eyes, the bags becoming prominent under them. He doesn't flinch feeling Patton wrap his arms around Logan, laying his head on the lawyer's shoulder. A sweet kiss to his neck, a tingle he had missed sent down his back. 

“You're exhausted” Patton identifies, connecting their hands. Logan scoffs, a smile with a tinge of truth however. “I'm here, you can rest Lo” Patton promises, soothing comfort down Logan's arm and cheek. Logan bites down, clenching his jaw so tight it begins to pulse. He avoids anything that will reflect his delicate state. Logan takes Patton's hand, kissing it but he isn't there. His mind floods with schedules and routines, meals and things he must do, children cries and joy.

And he loves it. 

Yes he's drained, but all he can think of is the conversation he had with Patton eons ago. Thats how he felt, these children could take everything from him. Sleep, food, anything and hed smile with delight.  

“I'd like to move in” Logan proposes, Patton chuckles into his shoulder. A tired smile accompanied with a nod. Logan takes this as his moment to convince, quickly preparing an argument but Patton has his own idea.

“And here I thought you already had” Patton laments, Logan yawns but hes amused. Something about the way he felt with Patton allowed him to enjoy it. Allowed him to just relax, always helps that Patton had taken to massaging Logan without a prompt. But out the window there he was, he knew Patton felt it, his shoulders tightened. “Dearest?” Patton hums, kissing him gently. 

“We need to talk about Virgil” 

~~~

“I want to see my little boy” Patton sings, Remy chuckles as Emile brings Thomas forth. Cradling the baby in Patton's arms.

“Here he comes” Emile teases, Patton giggles, joined by the baby soon enough. 

“Oh my here he does, look at this angel” Patton coos, tickling ever so carefully his stomach, the both allowing themselves a moment with each other. The sweetness the child radiates is almost too much for Patton's weak heart.  Soon enough everyone cycled in for their reunion. Logan stood protective by Patton the entire time, a hand on his shoulder and love infecting him. Patton was grateful. 

The twins were impatient and they had every right to be, spending almost three hours with their father and Logan simply chatting away. Patton loved it,he loved cuddling Valerie while Remus explained his journeys, he loved Remus fiddling with his hair as Valerie recounted their days with Logan. And most of all he loved Logan. He loved that he got to share this with someone, someone who cared someone who he loved and who loved him back. 

Soon enough the room darkened and Roman, after a copious check up and a thorough conversation volunteered to take them home for some rest. 

“You are truly my hero” Patton teases, knowing that title was held by only one person. One person who was currently making sure the children were bundled up before they said their goodbyes. Roman gave him one last squeeze before leading them out followed by James who waves the door closed. 

“You look exhausted” Logan notices, fluffing up Patton's pillow, making sure the lawyer remains cozy and comfortable. Patton takes his cheeks as he leans in and plants a quick kiss on him. He pulls away, getting prepared to take his sleep, Logan smiles timidly planting a kiss on his head before finally releasing his overbearing care. Not that Patton minds. Logan sets up in the chair next to him, turning the night light on and flipping quietly through a book. 

It remains peaceful and still for awhile, Logan almost dozes off with his blanket sprawled around him. But as the clock strikes eleven thirty, the door slides open. And of course panic sets in, why were the doctors here and so late at night? But when the gruff boots and purple jacket reflected on the light, Logans panic set in even more.

“Virgil” Logan identifies in a whisper, the detective meets his eyes. The bags are prominent. But his boiling hatred was fiery. “He's sleeping” Logan scolds, folding up his blanket and putting the book on the shelf. “Where were you all day?” Logan goes, quickly back tracking. “Actually no, I don't care” 

“Lo be nice” Patton mumbles through his pillow, the pair jump and Logan joins his side quickly. He wipes his eyes sitting up, allowing Logan to serve him water, taking it gratefully. Virgil wants to come forward, his head pulsed as his eyes laid on Patton. He missed him so much, but Logans glare stopped him. “Thank you starlight” Patton put his glass back, and Virgil adored the casualness of their physical connection, the nicknames and the fact that Logans and Pattons hands were connected. But he hated that he couldn't enjoy this right now. “Heya Virge” Patton swallows, something forced down. 

“Pat..” Virgil breathes, he wants to gush but something holds him back. Patton bit his lower lip, he extended his arms, motioning for Virgil to come forth. The breath that escaped Virgil lifted the pressure from his chest. 

“Patton no” Logan reminds, he doesn't mean to be controlling but he cares for Patton more than he can describe.

“Logan come on” Virgil sighs. Patton clutches his blankets knowing hes only doing this out of confrontation and his fear of such. But with what Logan told him...shouldn't he be mad?

He was

He was painfully hurt

“What did you tell him?” Virgil points as Patton refocuses. 

“The honest truth and what I found Patton should know” Logan explains. Patton takes his hand, feeling the sweat build. Logan takes the signal and finds himself breathing with relaxation. “You took the money, you and Remy took the money” He lays out flat. “When Patton came to you about Liam you should have done something” Logan spits “Instead, like everyone else in that goddamn precinct you took Liams vile money and kept your mouth shut” Logan reveals, Virgil averts  his guilty eyes. Patton twinges, clasping tighter to Logan. 

“Patton let me just..I…” Virgil feels something clamp tight in his throat. He has an explanation but nothing worth Patton's forgiveness. “You said you h-had a plan and you were gonna leave i thought, its just a little longer and Damian and I-”

“Virgil are you fucking kidding?” Logans voice remains quiet but it seethes, Patton struggles but sits up pulling Logan closer to him. 

“Dearest, language” He whispers sweetly, wiping the sweat away from Logans hot head. “Its ok, I'm okay and you're okay and the twins and Damian and virge...everyones ok” Patton rambles, Logan softens at the soft breaths he takes. Idiot, he punishes. Patton was tired, he was shaking ever so slightly. 

“Im so sorry Pat, I should go” And he does, Virgil gives him one more apologetic look before slamming the door away. Patton releases an exasperated breath before falling back into his pillow. How many times was he going to cry today?

“Love?” Logan sits with him, Patton cant conjure up words he simply shakes his head, the tears flow. Logan adjusts so he cradles Patton, a gentle lullaby his hummed to him as he remembers every time a touch had never felt so loving, and filled with pain instead. “I love you so very much” He promises, he was so glad Patton took that from him. 

I dont think Id want to give that to anyone else

Soon enough, the pair was comfortably asleep, both with dreams...or nightmares of their own. But together, and surely they wouldn't let the other be hurt, not again, not ever again.   

[atleasttheresthis]

Project Partners (Song x Katara)

Happy day two of ATLA wlw week! This one is for the academia AU.

content warning: alcohol

@atla-wlw-week

"So, in conclusion, you and your partner will research one new surgical or oncological technique from the last five years on any of the cancer types I've included here. You'll have three weeks to complete the project." Professor Pakku pauses, lifts his eyes from his notes and turns them on the horde of bleary eyed, eight am lecture suckers in front of him. "Any questions?"

Song, who is just as tired and out of it as the rest of her classmates at 8:30 on a Monday, studies the powerpoint slide in front of her, struggling to write down all the project requirements before Professor Pakku moves on from the assignment and starts the day's lecture.

"Before you ask, Taedo," the Professor is saying from the front of the room, "no, I will not accept any late papers. If you would have read the syllabus I distributed at the beginning of the semester instead of no-doubt chucking into the garbage as I'm sure you did, you would know my policy on late assignments."

Song grins to herself as Taedo slumps down in his seat. Pakku is something of a hardass, but since Song mostly keeps to herself and stays out of his way, she's never had a problem with him. Besides, his course on cancer treatment was super popular among the pre-med and nursing students. It would take a lot more than verbal abuse to get Song to give up her seat in the course. She needed the elective to finish her third year of the nursing program at Ba Singh Se University, and since she wanted to work at a cancer ward after graduating, this course was practically a requirement.

From the front row, Katara pipes up. "You could just put the syllabus online."

Pakku sighs, rubs the bridge of his nose while Song rolls her eyes. For the entire semester, Katara seems to have made it her mission to make the Professor's life difficult, and it drives Song crazy.

"I suppose I could, but my ancient and old-fashioned ways make it quite difficult for me to use the computer, or so you told me in class last week." Even from her spot in the middle of the room, Song can hear Katara harumph. 

"Any other questions?" Professor Pakku asks, then sighs when Katara shoves her hand into the air. "Yes, Katara?"

"I've noticed you didn't include the breast as part of the infected areas we could study," she begins, but the professor interrupts her.

"Yes, thank you for proving, yet again, that you know how to read," Pakku says easily. Song winces. Lately she’s found herself unable to focus in this class, devoting her energy instead to either silently cheering on Professor Pakku in his misguided quest to get Katara to be quiet for more than five minutes so he can teach, or silently (always silently) commending Katara as she points out Pakku’s rampant sexism. Their relationship confuses the shit out of her, and while right now she finds herself inclined to defend the student (because wow, that was a really asshole thing to say, Professor), she thinks both of them go way too far.

Either way, it’s threatening to wreak havoc on her GPA.

Unaffected by Pakku’s rudeness, Katara presses the point. “That’s sexist,” she says bluntly, and Song finds herself nodding. “We should be able to study whatever cancers we want to. Just because you want to ignore all the stuff that only affects women doesn’t mean we want to.” She stops for a moment, considers. “Also, will we be able to pick our own partners?"

Pakku seems to have lost his temper. "You know what, just for that, everyone else gets to pick their partners, except for you. You will be paired with," he stops, consults the class list on his podium. "Song Ma."

Um, what? Song lets out a breath, unable to believe her shit luck. Everyone in the course turns around to stare at each other, wondering who the unlucky girl is until they catch Song's face. She knows she's got a completely disbelieving, what the fuck look on, so much so that Pakku actually smiles when his eyes catch hers. He gives her a small shrug, evil grin totally upstaging his non-apology. "Good luck," he adds helpfully.

Katara sniffs, turns back around in her chair. Song resigns herself to the inevitable. It's obvious there's no getting out of this one.

***

Song finds Katara waiting in the hallway after class. Slugging her backpack over one shoulder, Song steps forward and introduces herself. "Hi. I'm Song." She briefly considers holding out a hand, then stops herself, raising it to stifle a yawn instead. 

"I know," Katara says snobbishly. Jesus, this is going to be like pulling teeth, isn't it? Biting back a rude reply in kind, Song asks "do you have any ideas for what you want to research?"

"I want to research the use of dye to identify positive lymph nodes in breast cancer patients," Katara says immediately, and Song sighs. "Look, I know you're apparently cool with being on Pakku's bad side, but I don't need a shitty grade on this report because you can't pick your battles and have to stick it to the man whenever you have the chance." Katara looks a bit surprised by her outburst. Whatever. Song's grade is on the line, she's not going to risk it for some girl with a death wish, even if she is really pretty, skin somehow looking shiny and gorgeous even under the fluorescent lights of the hallway.

"I'll talk to Pakku," Katara offers begrudgingly. "See if he'll officially allow us to go beyond the project parameters."

"Fine, go ahead," Song relinquishes. Katara hadn't asked if she had any ideas, but whatever. "Your funeral."

Katara cracks a smile. "Is that okay, or did you want to research something else?" 

Song is so surprised by Katara's thoughtfulness, by her apparent ability to reach into Song's head and pluck out her inner monologue, that she merely shakes her head. That's alright, though. Lymph nodes are fascinating enough.

"Cool," Katara says. "I'll swing by his office hours today and let you know how it goes." Song nods, watches Katara walk away, and realizes she never even gave the other girl her phone number. 

Oh well. They have three weeks to work it out, and she'll see Katara in class on Wednesday.

Song shrugs to herself, walks out of the biology department toward the squashy chairs on the ground floor of the science building to get some reading done before her next class.

Later that day, when she's studying with her housemate Bohei after lunch, an email pops up on her phone.

Hey Song,

I talked to Pakku, he'll let us do the breast cancer project without deducting anything from our grade. 

Let's find a time to talk soon so we can figure out how we should divide the work. I can handle the research part of it if you want to handle the conclusion and summary.

-Katara

Song is furious. Why is Katara relegating her to the easy stuff? Doesn't she think Song can do good work?

"What's wrong?" Bohei, one of her housemates, asks from across the table. Song reads her the email. "Isn't that the stuck up girl that's always getting into fights with the professor? Sucks that you're paired with her."

"The professor put us together," Song explains. "Ugh. Why won't she let me do the work on this project? I'm smart, I can handle a research paper!"

"I actually think you're in a golden situation," Bohei says, reaching over to snag a few of Song's chips from an open bag on the table. "Just let her do all the work, if she cares about it so much you'll probably get a good grade, free A for the project."

Song shakes her head. "No, I want to help, I can do it. Why doesn't she think I can help?"

"Why do you care?" Bohei counters, raising an eyebrow. A great question, but Song is not in the mood for self-reflection.

"I, I don't," Song splutters. "I don't care, I just, I just don't think it's fair that she's doing all the work alone! And besides, how do I know she'll do a good job?"

"Okay," Bohei says, giving Song a look that says she knows what a flimsy excuse that is. Why does Song care what Katara thinks of her? She's just some know-it-all who can't leave well enough alone. Song emails her back, tells her she's free for dinner, and gets a reply a few minutes later that Katara will meet her at the dining hall. Song tries to push the other girl out of her mind, turning back to her chemistry notes. 

It's no use. By the time dinner rolls around, Song is simmering with indignation over Katara's assumption that she couldn't help with the project. She packs up her stuff, trying to tune out Bohei's pointed questions (the other girl had gotten over her instinct to leave Song alone about it and has instead spent the rest of the afternoon asking if Song likes Katara, like, like-likes Katara???) and begrudgingly makes her way over to the dining hall. After swiping her school ID to get in, she sees Katara at a table with a plate of food. Sighing, resigning herself to a confrontation, Song heads over there, dropping her bag onto an empty seat.

"Hey," she says, monotone, and Katara looks up. "Hi," she says back, a bit startled, but Song's not exactly giving her the best attitude.

"How was your day," Song asks rhetorically, and Katara raises an eyebrow but whatever, Song is just being polite.

"It was okay," Katara answers, tossing some of her long brown hair over her shoulder. Song likes it this way, better than when she puts it in the long braid that snakes down her back. "How was yours?"

An awkward moment, where Song has lost herself staring at Katara's hair. She realizes the other girl has asked her a question, and gives herself a shake. "It was fine too," she answers quickly. 

"Do you want to get a plate before we start working?" Katara asks.

Song agrees, gets up to scour the dining options for something to eat. She ends up with a bowl of pasta, some carrots, and a glass of water. Reaching Katara again and sitting back down, Song pulls her laptop and notebook out of her bag before spearing a piece of pasta and angrily throwing it into her mouth.

Katara, oblivious this time to her anger, has gotten out a laptop of her own. "So, I already made a google doc, I'm sharing it with you now," she says, and Song moves to check her email, loading the document on her screen. "Like I said, I can handle the research part and you can do the conclusion, is that okay?" Katara asks, not even looking up from her computer.

Song takes a deep breath. "No, it's not really okay," she answers in a rush. That makes Katara look up. "I can help with the research part too, I think I can handle it," she says drily. "I just don't think it's fair for you to do so much of the work," she tacks hurriedly, wanting Katara to think she's doing this for more noble reasons than wanting the other girl to think she's smart.

"Oh, it's okay, I don't mind doing the work," Katara brushes Song off, turning back to the laptop. 

Song groans internally. "Katara. I can help. I want to do some of the work on this project, it's my grade too," she reminds her.

Katara looks at her skeptically. "Alright," she concedes finally. "Here, want to look over some of the sources I've already gathered?"

Song takes another bite, nodding. They spend the rest of the evening compiling journal articles and studies on the use of dye to identify positive and negative lymph nodes in the armpit. It's not half as bad as Song thought it might be, both girls are focused on the work, and after an hour and a half they have enough to start working on the paper. Song drafts a preliminary outline, which Katara approves of after making only one or two small changes, and then they call it a night, agreeing to meet up again later that week. Song packs up her bag feeling good, they got work done. And she's definitely proved to Katara that she's smart enough to hold her own. Not that she cares about any of that.

***

As the week goes on, Song finds herself enjoying her study sessions with Katara more than she'd like to admit. For all her sharp edges in class, she's surprisingly laid back when she talks with Song. She's got a sharp sense of humor, and the way she vivisects Pakku and some of the other asshole idiots in their class causes Song to nearly pitch a fit. About the work itself, she's pretty anal, but Song's own standards are exacting themselves, so it's not like she can complain.

They meet again on Wednesday, but it's on Friday that Katara tells her that she's pre-med and plans to become a breast cancer surgeon. Her mother died of breast cancer, and she wants to work so other people don't suffer like she did. It only seems natural to tell her about her father's fatal car accident, in turn. 

"Is that why you want to become a nurse?" Katara asks quietly. She doesn't say she's sorry, and neither does Song. What good would that do?

Song blows out a breath. "Maybe?" she offers. "I don't know. I just know that I'm good at this, I'm good at helping people when they're hurt, and if I can do it, shouldn't I?"

Katara nods. "I understand," she says, and Song gets the feeling that she really does.

***

By Friday night it becomes obvious to both Song and, unfortunately, Song's housemates, that their girl is quickly becoming enraptured with Katara. "What do I do?" Song moans into a chocolate chip cookie that D'wei made to cheer her up.

"I thought she was annoying," he asks, topping up his glass of cheap, Barefoot wine, before handing the bottle to Song. 

"No, she's still annoying," Bohei chimes in. The three are sitting in their kitchen, Bohei painting her nails at the table and Song in the chair next to her while D'wei perches himself on the countertop. 

"But she's annoying in a hot way," Song whines. She gives herself a generous glass of wine, her third of the evening, then slumps over the table, cheek pressed against the wood.

"Haven't you only met with her like, twice?" D'wei asks. Song opens her mouth to respond, but Bohei beats her to it. 

"D'wei, come on. Song's a, you know," and she holds her wrist at shoulder height and bends it so her arm flops over.

Song chuckles, face mashed into the table.

"A what?" D'wei asks, and Bohei rolls her eyes.

"A lesbian," Song mumbles. "Exactly," Bohei says, nudging Song's head with her elbow. "Falling in love inside thirty seconds, that's classic lesbian behavior, you should know that."

"That's our M.O.," Song agrees. "Song's done that four times in the past year and half," Bohei continues.

"And once with a boy, but we don't talk about that," Song says. "But Katara's different, I can tell."

"She's stupid beautiful, I'll give you that," Bohei adds, capping her nail polish and blowing on her nails to dry.

"I know," Song grumbles, shoving the rest of the cookie in her mouth. "How do I tell her I like her?"

Bohei shrugs. "You could play 'girl in red' while you guys study, that will probably clue her in," D'wei suggests.

Song wrinkles her nose. "Too obvious," she answers. "Japanese Breakfast, then?" he asks.

Song thinks on it. "That one might work, actually."

"Hope so, or else you'll just have to pine from afar," Bohei stands up, blowing on her nails to dry them. "Or grow a pair and tell her you like her. Are we watching a movie or not?"

"We're watching," D'wei says decidedly, while Song moans, hopping off the counter and pulling Song into the living room by the wrist. "Don't worry, we'll watch something that's not about romance so you won't feel bad."

Song scoffs but settles herself on the couch between them nonetheless. D'wei's assurance turns out to be a complete lie, and they watch Pride and Prejudice, but whatever, Song's totally not thinking about Katara while the movie plays.

"Hey, Song, do you want Katara to stroll determinedly toward you through the morning mist wearing that exact unbuttoned shirt?"

Shifty silence from Song. "She does! D'wei, she does!"

"It would be super romantic," Song mumbles.

"Holy shit! Dude, you'd better tell her how you feel, or your ovaries will shrivel up!"

Eye roll. "I'm pretty sure you can only say that about people with dicks, Bohei, it's not like Katara's going to get me pregnant."

"But you want her to!"

***

On Friday, the week after their project was assigned, Song blinks the rain out of her eyes, holds her phone to her chest to keep it relatively dry under her bowed head and stares blearily at Google maps. Picking her head up she squints at the street signs, turns left, and then finally spots a sign saying "The Jasmine Dragon" above what looks like a small but cozy shop across the street. Grateful to have finally found the place, after trekking halfway across the city. Song had finished her exam earlier than expected, and with her and Katara's project deadline coming ever closer, she'd texted the other girl to see if she had any free time to work on it right now. Katara had agreed, saying she was studying with some friends at a place called the Jasmine Dragon. So here Song is.

Hurrying into the shop, Song relaxes after getting out of the rain, pulls the hood of her jacket down and snakes her braid out from where it's pressed uncomfortably between her backpack and her shoulder blades. The Jasmine Dragon tea shop is well-lit against the downpour, filled with comfortable armchairs dotting the room in twos and threes, with one long table at the back of the shop. Seated at the table are a few people working quietly by themselves, along with Katara and what must be her friends, working not at all quietly. Katara is sitting next to a boy who looks enough like her to be her brother, along with two people Song doesn't recognize, a boy with a completely bald head and shorter girl next to him. And--

"You!" Song shouts, then looks around herself, embarrassed, as she realizes how loud that was. Blushing a bit, she takes two sharp strides toward the table and says "you!" again, in a much smaller voice.

The boy on Katara's other side, with a nasty burn scar across his face and a Jasmine Dragon employee apron on, mutters "oh, shit," under his breath.

Katara is looking at Song, confused. "Hey Song, this is Zuko. How do you--"

"You're the asshole who stole my bike!" Song says angrily. Bike thief, whose name is apparently Zuko, goes bright red.

The shorter girl across from him lets out a laugh. "Oh man, Zuzu, you have the worst luck!"

"Shut up, Toph," Zuko mutters, eyes anywhere but on Song.

Katara lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Just once," she says, "just once, I would love it if someone recognized you from something nice you did for them, instead of whatever dick move you pulled."

"Never gonna happen, sweet sister!" The boy next to her crows happily. "Our Zuko was an asshole in a previous life!"

"Last year was a previous life?" The bald boy says, half-serious, and then high fives Katara's brother uncertainly.

"Fuck all of you," Zuko says. "He's doing his best," the shorter girl says dramatically, then slugs Zuko in the arm. 

"Wait," the bald kid says, turning to address Song. "Are you sure it was him?"

"Yes," Song says through clenched teeth, "I saw him leave a party at my house on my bike last year!"

It was one of the only parties Song and her housemates had thrown that semester. From what she can remember, Song spent a good portion of the evening trying to get close to the moody boy who was drinking alone in her kitchen. She had definitely tried to flirt with him, she remembers, cheeks going red, before Bohei had pulled her away to do shots. At the end of the night Song had passed out on their living room sofa. She woke up some time before morning at the sound of the door closing to see the moody boy, who was definitely Zuko, pick the lock on her bike and ride away on it, but she was too drunk to realize what had happened. In the morning, it was too late. Nobody else seemed to remember the boy, and she had no luck finding it.

Back in the tea shop, the bald boy is trying to defend Zuko. "That doesn't sound like something Zuko would do," the kid says, a bit soothingly. 

"No, it does," Katara counters. The shorter girl nods while Zuko hangs his head. 

"Yeah, that was me." He admits. "Look, I'm really sorry. I...was in a bad place that year, and I was super drunk, and--"

"Yeah, whatever, " Song says, uncomfortable with his honesty. "Are you going to give it back or not?"

"Of course he's going to give it back," the bald kid says enthusiastically. Song wonders who died and made him group spokesperson.

"Wait, do you even still have it?" the other girl asks. Song notices that she hasn't been making eye contact or even turning her head to look at anyone talking. She catches eye of the cane lying next to the girl's chair and realizes she must be blind.

"Yeah," Zuko says uncomfortably. "I woke up the next morning and, I, uh, didn't know what to do with it? So I just...kept it in the garage." He runs a hand through his hair uncomfortably. "It's still there."

Song, who has dropped her bag to the floor and started peeling off her jacket, throws up her hands. "You haven't even been using it?"

Zuko coughs. "No?"

"Ugh!" Song shouts, furious that he didn't even seem to need the bike.

"Look, I'll, I'll bring over to your place tomorrow," Zuko says placatingly, standing up. Song shoves past him and falls into his empty chair. "Yeah, maybe you should have tried doing that eight months ago, when you drunk-stole it from me," she deadpans, before turning to Katara. "Are we working on our project or not?"

Katara looks like she wants to keep laughing at Zuko's expense, but stops herself when she sees Song's face. "Uh, yeah, sure. Guys, this is Song, from my biology class. Song, this is Aang, Toph, and my brother Sokka." She points to the bald kid, the girl, and the dark-skinned boy next to her in turn. "You already know Zuko."

Song grits her teeth. "Song, I--" he starts helplessly.

"Zuko!" Someone calls from the back of the shop. "A little help back here?" From behind her, Song hears Zuko sigh. "I'll see you guys later," he says, before walking away. "Let us know if anyone else accuses you of something awful!" Sokka calls out after him gleefully.

"Or if something else from your dark past comes up to bite you in the ass! I want to start a facebook album!" Toph adds, and Song snickers, despite herself.

"Sorry about Zuko," Katara says carefully. "He was in a really bad place last year."

"So I've heard," Song says drily, fishing out her notebook and a pen.

"I'll make sure he gives you the bike back," Sokka offers. Song nods minutely.

"Why don't you guys get out of here," Katara says after a moment. "It's not like you're getting any work done."

Sokka opens his mouth, clearly affronted, but Song beats him to it. "No, you guys don't have to go, it's okay," she starts, but Aang catches onto Katara's meaning and has started packing up his stuff.

"No, Katara's right, we'd just waste your time," he says easily. "Come on, Sokka, Toph, we can study at my place."

Sokka sighs dramatically, but helps Toph get all her stuff together nonetheless. "Ugh, fine." Then he shoots his sister a sharp grin. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Katara splutters indignantly while Toph cackles. Song can’t even begin to guess what that means. “Nice to meet you, Song!” Aang calls over his shoulder before tailing Toph and Sokka out of the shop.

Song raises an eyebrow in Katara’s direction. “Ignore my idiot brother,” she says hastily, dark skin growing rosy with a blush. Maybe Song does know what that means.

“Do you want something to drink?” Katara continues quickly. “The weather is so shit outside, a hot drink will probably make you feel better.”

“I’m studying to be a nurse, Katara,” Song says, rolling her eyes but letting a grin escape so the other girl knows she’s playing. katara’s face lights up as she sticks her nose in the air. “Well, I’m studying to be a doctor, so I don’t know what they cover in nursing school.” She gets out of her chair and flounces towards the counter.

“You don’t even know what I want,” Song says half-heartedly, eyes on Katara’s ass. “You’ll like what I get you,” she says airily, half-turning to catch Song in the act of looking. Song blushes again, but boldly meets Katara’s eyes. The other girl smirks, before turning to the woman at the counter and rattling off something Song can’t hear.

When Katara returns a few minutes later, steaming mug of tea in her hand, Song has unpacked her laptop and is half-looking over the work they’d done so far. She passes the mug to Song. “Thanks,” she says gratefully, warming her hands against the bright red ceramic of the mug. “How did you guys find this place?” She asks, fighting off a yawn. Holding onto the warm tea has suddenly reminded her how tired she is.

Katara takes the seat across from her, picking up her own cup. “Zuko’s uncle owns it,” she explains. “Zuko’s really sorry about your bike, I know he is,” she says earnestly, casting a glance across the shop at him moving around in the back. “He went through a lot in the past year, he used to be such an asshole, even to us,” she adds. “But he’s alright now.”

Song doesn’t know what to say, can’t quite believe her, so she takes a sip of her tea instead. “Oh, it is good,” she said, surprised. Katara smiles in satisfaction. “Uncle Iroh thought you were a fruit tea girl, but I told him different. Guess I was right.”

It’s cheesy, it’s so, so high school, but Song’s stomach flutters at the idea of Katara knowing what sort of tea she’d like. It's got her tongue tied, but Katara saves her by asking about her day.

“It was good,” she answers. “I finished my international relations exam early, that’s why I texted you that I had time.”

“Well look at you, smartypants," Katara says, and Song scoffs. They spend the rest of the afternoon like that, sort of but not really working on their project, until Sokka comes back to pick up Katara and gives Song a ride back to her apartment.

"See you tomorrow!" Katara calls through the car's open window. Song shoots her a confused look. "When Zuko and I come to return your bike!" She reminds her. Song agrees, but doesn't think anything will come of it, which is why she's so surprised to open her apartment door at eight o'clock the next morning to see Zuko and Katara in her doorway, bike in hand.

"Good morning!" Katara says triumphantly, and Song stares. Katara, she, she looks so incredible Song can hardly believe it. Her hair is perfect and shiny, and she looks like she's wearing extra eye makeup. Zuko, meanwhile, looks like how Song feels, bedraggled in comparison. "Told you we'd bring you the bike!" Katara says excitedly, while Zuko yawns next to her. "Here, here you go," he says, steering the bike into Song's apartment. "Uh, thanks," Song answers slowly, leaving the bike by the door.

"Put your shoes on, we're taking you for breakfast," Katara instructs, and before she realizes what's happening Song finds herself in the back of Zuko's car, sitting next to Katara and behind a girl Song vaguely knows from one of her politics courses last semester, who Zuko introduces as his girlfriend. Song thinks Mai is way too cool a girl for someone like Zuko, but keeps her mouth shut.

"Go to the diner on fifth," Katara instructs, and in front of Song Mai scoffs. "No way, their coffee is garbage."

"All diner coffee is garbage," Zuko offers from behind the wheel, and behind him Katara says "I want pancakes. We went to your shitty coffee shop last time."

"It's not shitty, you just don't appreciate aesthetics," Mai sniffs.

"It's overly minimalist and their cake is bad," Katara says bluntly, before turning to Song. "What do you want to do?"

Song blinks, slightly overwhelmed at being thrust into this dynamic of people who were clearly comfortable in each others' lives. But also, it's early, so: "I want to eat eggs."

"Diner it is, you're outvoted, Mai!" Katara crows happily.

"You didn't ask me what I wanted," Zuko protests, already steering the car in the direction of the diner. "We know you're happy with either one," Mai explains.

"Always happy when I'm with you," he says to Mai, and Song can see his face in profile, he's offering Mai a small smile. Mai meets him halfway and gives him a quick kiss. 

"Eyes on the road," Katara interrupts, pulling a face to make Song laugh in the backseat. It occurs to her that this might be something of a double date.

And it's definitely a date, she realizes, or she hopes, because Katara has squeezed herself next to Song onto the vinyl covered cushion of the diner booth, and keeps knocking her knees into Song and, once, even holding her thigh flush against Song's. She eats off Song's plate with no remorse, encourages Song to do the same to her, and quietly flirts with Song for most of the meal. It's enough to give Song a pleasant whooping feeling in her gut that lasts the whole day.

The restaurant environment is certainly helping, Song loves diners. The way they all sort of look the same, the ridiculously long menus, the poor lighting, all of it. It's her and her mother's favorite place to go, and when she lived at home they used to go there almost every day, even if it was just for a cup of bad coffee. Song feels at home here, which is why she loves the diner so much.

Besides Katara's flirting, Song actually has a good time enjoying Mai and Zuko's company. Maybe he really was a different person when he stole her bike and ignored her at her own party, because now he's making an effort to include her in the conversation, filling in the gaps into which she might have fallen, being the odd one out in a group of friends who knew each other so well.

"We went to school together first," Zuko is explaining, gesturing to himself and Mai. "A different school, actually, one our parents wanted to go to. It was really close to our hometown. Caldera College."

"Our parents are in business together," Mai says. "Well, my father works for his father."

"And my father wanted me and my younger sister, Azula, to work for him too. But that, uh, didn't work out…" his hand moves to the scar on his face, and Song stifles a wince. "So I left the old school and came here. Well…"

"His Dad cut him off," Katara butts in. "But it was actually a good thing, here I met these guys." Zuko says with a small smile.

"Didn't start off as a good thing," Katara mutters, and here Zuko blushes, tilts his face to the table. "Yeah, those were my uh, my bike stealing years," he grimaces another apology at Song.

Katara yelps, it seems like Mai has kicked her under the table. "But we're good now," she adds brightly.

"Like I have to keep reminding you," Zuko says, raising his eyebrows, and now it's Katara's turn to look chagrined. Song wonders at their need to air their dirty laundry in public.

"And then I decided fuck my parents' business and followed Zuko here," Mai declares, setting her hand on top of Zuko's.

Song nods. It's a lot to process. "What about your sister?" she asks, wondering if this is the right question. 

Maybe not. The emotion runs from Mai's face like colors in the wash, her mouth settles into a dull line. Zuko sighs, and, next to Song, Katara huffs out a breath. "We're working on her," Katara explains.

"My Dad was working her to the bone, putting way too much pressure on her after I left," Zuko says. "Especially after I left," he adds to himself, and on the table Mai squeezes his hand. "She snapped, dropped out," Mai picks up from him. "We're trying to make sure she gets the help she needs."

"That's really hard, I'm sorry you have to go through that," Song offers, and Zuko nods. "She'll be okay," he says, face determined.

An awkward pause, but the first of the meal and the plates are nearly clean, so that's a success. "You don't have any siblings, right Song?" Katara asks.

"Mm-mm," Song shakes her head. "Just me and my mom," and Katara nods, which she was expecting, but then Zuko does too, and maybe they have more in common than she'd thought.

"Mai has a younger brother," Katara volunteers, and Mai rolls her eyes but tells them an adorable story about Tom Tom regardless.

"That was...nice," Song says truthfully, when they've dropped her back at her place and she's got Katara on her doorstep.

"They're alright, huh? I thought you'd like them," Katara says happily.

Song, feeling warm and full of eggs and lukewarm coffee, has the confidence to say "maybe they're not the only ones I like," eyes catching Katara's before dropping to her doorstep.

"Yeah," Katara says softly, hand reaching towards hers. "I--"

She's cut off by the sound of the horn. Katara turns and Song sees that Mai's got a hand on the horn while Zuko sits by looking pained. Katara gives them the finger before turning back to Song. "I like you t--"

The horn again. "Katara, let's go!" Mai shouts, and Katara rolls her eyes and Song smiles. "I'll see you at our next study session?" she offers.

"Yeah," Katara says, looking relieved, "I'll see you then." She waved goodbye, bounds off the porch toward the car, opens the back door while yelling "jesus christ, Mai, I'm here, calm down."

Song unlocks the door of her house, still smiling, and heads inside.

***

Katara and Song meet, one last time, to go over the paper. It takes them ages, both of them are deliberately dragging it out. They go through it one line at a time, taking turns reading the paragraph aloud and double, triple checking the references. When it's finally over, i's crossed and t's dotted, Katara's hand hovers over the trackpad of her laptop, mouse on the 'submit' button. "Are we ready?" she asks one more time.

"You're sure it's cool with Pakku if we do breast cancer?" Song clarifies, and Katara scoffs. "Oh, actually Song, I forgot to tell you, he's not cool with it and we're going to fail. Whoops!"

"Okay, okay," Song laughs. "We're ready, do it."

Katara takes a deep breath, clicks the trackpad. Project over.

"It's in the lap of the gods now," Song comments, and Katara nods, shutting her computer.

"Now what should we do?" she asks, and for the first time she's almost shy. It's utterly adorable, the light blush under her eyes, and Song steals herself and says "well, I'd like to kiss you now."

Katara stiffens beside her. "You should definitely do that," she says hastily, and Song laughs, reaches up slide her hand into Katara's hair and leans in, catching her lips.

It's perfect. Katara tastes like everything Song had imagined plus more. When she pulls back Katara chases her lips. "I think you should give that another go," she murmurs, and Song laughs again, happy to oblige.

It's even better the second time. They kiss for a while, lazy, and afterward, when they're resting their foreheads against each other, Katara speaks up.

"I think I'm going to take you on a proper date," she muses.

"I'd like that," Song answers happily. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

[takemybodynotmysoul]

plotttttt

You and Berry go to the lake in order to try to catch the legendary Pokémon. You meet Prof. and Dawn, and just like in Diamond, they leave their case.

Then, Cyrus appears out of there. Saves you from some wild Pokémon and choose a starter. His attire his much more science-like, and the team is not called Team Galactic, but Galaxy Corporation. 

Then, we get a cutscene of going back to your house to tell your mother about what happened, and Giratina is seen on the reflection on the lake. 

You get to Sandgem Town, and notify Dawn/Lucas and Rowan about everything. You get the starter you received, and then get to name it

Side note: Rowan has been tweaked slightly, and he is written as a much more grumpy character, and Dawn/Lucas is his grandchild, who is unsure about what they want to with their lives. They will be your secondary rival.

By the way, there are three Pokédex entries for each Pokémon in The New Pokémon Platinum. You will be able to unlock them if you catch a certain amount of Pokémon, and for the first time in the series, completing the Pokédex has actual consequences. As you complete it, you will find brand new Pokémon habitats in both Snadgem and Twinleaf town, that the Professor was able to construct thanks to the data you collected.

So, you start your journey. By the way, THERE IS NO MANDATORY CATCHING TUTORIAL. A slide will pop on the screen, and if you are interested in the catching tutorial, it will indicate you to talk to Lucas/Dawn.

_______________________________________________________

There are no changes in the camera angle when encountering important characters, only normal angle (from behind) and full-on cutscenes.

In Jubilife City, you will be acquainted with Looker. It’s not as tedious as the originals, the dialogue is quick and you are only warned of shady people. You are given the VS. Recorder by Dawn, and then you can have your battle with Barry by the school. The clown-clock situation is completely optional, and will fuction by popping on the right side of the screen.

On the route on your way to Orebough City, you will find a static Shroomish that is there to start the Mew event that will be distributed in the game’s release.

Once upon arrival, a kid will point to the gym, but not force you to get there. You are still supposed to find Roark by the mine, and once you get there you will see that it has been expanded. After getting the badge, the new ways TM’s work will be explained: one needs a rock type Pokémon that knows a rock type move to break down the boulders, and once you break them, they will STAY broken.

After getting the badge, you will be explained (by Dawn/Lucas, after a battle) how the side-missions go. They are little missions you can take part in, and after completing them, you will either be given an Egg of a Pokémon that cannot be found in the wild, or that are from another region. There are, at the very least, five of them to do in every town. They are not big, but they will 100% expand on the region and offer some extra events with the Galactic corporation.

When leaving Jubilife to get to Eterna City, there is an event with some scientists like from the GC (Galaxy Corporation) get confronted because they are exploiting a Magnemite on the street. This event helps begin to explain how they work, much more differently than they did in the OG’s.

Basically, they are a scientific corporation that works in the region and has, overall, a pretty bad reputation: they tend to overwork their employees, as well as receive complaints because they bother the wild Pokémon. Cyrus is their leader, and his fascination with Giratina and the others is tweaked to seem much more believable and much less end-of-the-world type of ordeal. 

Giratina senses Cyrus is one fascinated with Myth, and tries too hard to find out the truth behind everything. His passion for history is borderline insane, and he has, like previously mentioned, a pretty nasty reputation. He will put anything at risk if it means getting the data he needs, his research is more important to him than anything else.

Giratina, as we all know, was banished to the DW by Arceus, and it begins to sense that Cyrus is its way out. What better way to get out of the DW than have a clearly unstable man try to break you out of it? Therefore, it starts to show itself on mirrors or reflective surfaces, which greatly affects Cyrus’ mental health, making him believe he is either insane or chosen.

His ultimate goal is to get the legendaries, Palkia and Dialga, to open the world and let him be the one to explore the Distorsion World. So, he must find a way to get the Red Chain. Therefore, he starts to hunt the Lake Trio.

He is, however, not written to be completely insane. He is manipulated by the brand new antagonist of the game (inspired by the anime) Hunter J. She’s a merciless hunter that sells Pokémon to an association that hides in the Battle Frontier. In the encounters with officer Jenny, she’ll mention how they have been suspecting her for a while, but her status as a Frontier Brain is too powerful, plus, they do not have any substantial leads.

She is aware of how twisted Cyrus’ plans are, and she is the one to push him over the edge:

After you save the old man’s Clefairy from the Eterna building, she will convince Cyrus that the only way to get what he wants is to go after it. From that moment on, the GC work together with her and they start to become more of a criminal organization, as they are escorted out of their numerous headquarters, but not arrested.

Obviously, J isn’t stupid, she’s just using Cyrus to find legendary Pokémon and then sell them. She is far mroe antagonistic, and meets her demise at the DW, when she her trusty Salamance gets tired of her and lets her falls into the deep end.

She is the one to move the plot along, alongside the commanders. She is the one to set off bombs on two of the lakes, and you fight her several times.

Some important information that will be expande upon later on is tht, after Gardenia’s badge, you can go anywhere you want to in Sinnoh except for Canalave City and Snowpoint (including the brand new cities of Alamos, Hillwater, Greenstation and Senders Town). The only roadblocks are ones you can get rid of with TM’s no ‘YOU CAN’T PASS’ nonsense. The only one that is kind of like that is, actually, not annoying at all. You are unable to get to Celestic Town before badge number 6 so, after you do, to make sure that you do not skip the event with Cynthia’s grandmother, they add Whirlpools before Canalave. To get the ‘TM’ you must deliver the Charm to her.

How it works:

REGARDING GYMS

They are scaled, and depending on which one you decid to tackle first, the leader will ahve one or other Pokémon at certain levels. Also, you are obligated to use only as many Pokémon as the Gym leader uses. This is not an issue, because after the fourth badge, they all get 6 Pokémon.

Volkner is now no longer the last gym leader, that honor is Candace’s. He is instead, the sixth. After defeating Fantina, Wake, and Maylene at the order you please, you will be able to use STRENGHT. This will let you go on a little extra quest where you have to find Volker (he’s at the Jilted Park). After defeating him, you finally get the ability to Surf, and can go to the expanded Canalave City. After that, you will be given the ability to Waterfall, and be able to go on your Snowpoint journey.  

REGARDING PLOT

You will have some optional encounters with the (now fugitives) GC, and they will be on some of the routes between Alamos City, Hearthome Parish, and Veilstone (there is also a small event here), and have to be driven off because they are abusing the wild Pokémon.

However, after you finally get the 5th badge, the explosion on the Great Marsh goes off. You fight Junter J, and she flies away. Then, can go on to your next badge.

After defeating Volkner, there is an issue with them violating some rules regarding the energy of the city, but the next big event is after you get your seventh badge. The explosions on all of the three lakes go off. Instead of being sent there to fix it (insanity), Rowan simply encourages you because the cities nearby are in need of volunteers to help them with the damage. When you get to Valor and Verity, the reason you fight the grunts and commanders is because you catch them trying to escape. Then, you are still encouraged to go to Snowpoint because Lake Acuity’s wildlife has been threatened by the bomb, and they need help from as many trainers as they can get.

After getting there and getting your eight gym badge, you are able to access the Lily of the Vally conference, and go to the Lake to give help. There you find out that ANOTHER bomb was just inmediatly set off, and that they now have, succesfully, caught the guardians.

You get to infiltrate the Veilstone HQ next. There, you find that they have turned it into some sort of nightmarish base, and they are keeping the guardians. Berry actually goes alongside you here, as it benefits his story arc, which I will touch on later. After busting their operation, they manage to get away thanks to Hunter J, and go off to Moun Coronet. 

Then, Cynthia reveals (and Palmer of all trainers) join and send a message to the region, encouraging all of the trainers to head to Mount Coronet in order to fight Cyrus. Once again, there is no end-of-the-world nonsense, she just encourages trainers to help the Lake Trio, some legendary Pokémon that have helped humans and trainers since the beggining of humanity. It’s much more engaging this way, and MUCH less preachy.

On your way up the mountain, you run into some of the stat trainers you have been meeting before, and it is quite moving to see how everybody is trying to help the Lake Trio.

Once you get up, after fighting a 12 on 12 battle with Mars and Jupiter, and Cyrus uses The Lake Trio, Dialga and Palkia to open the portal, Giratina swallows you, Cynthia, Hunter J and Cyrus into the Distortion World. 

There (it’s all in a fish-eye camera, very much atmospheric), you solve the puzzles and get to fight Cyrus who, after some dialogue with Cynthia and J, gets a redemption.

After J’s falling, you fight Giratina (are unable to catch it yet though) to let you all out of there. Once you emerge at the Sendoff Spring, you get the conclusion with the last Giratina-reflection-sighting in the fourth lake, but instead of menacingly looking at Cyrus, it looks at you.

Then, you get to Lily of the Valley island, go through Treebove Path, and fight in the Lily of the Valley conference. You fight the stat trainers, and Lucas/Dawn in the finale, and are finally able to go through the Victory Road and challenge the League.

After the Barry fight and the Elite 4, you fight Cynthia by the ocean. After you win, the credits roll. Overall, with the expanded routes, brand new locations, revamped plot, and new rivals, the story is the most complete of any of the games, and is, without a dubt, the longest main campaign of the Pokémon games. Will continue with the side-missions and non-Calaxy plot, and post-game later.