#also i dunno if its possible to tell but the glasses were actually taken from the body. somewhat of a relevant detail.;;

[smiuffzo]

It eats you from the inside.

[canon-transgender-virgil]

Check In (Intrulogical)

A/N: Finished this fic relatively quickly! It's a lot shorter than the Roceit one I posted earlier this week but it's still kinda a long fic lol!

Summary: Directly following the events of WTIT, Remus pops into Logan's room for what he claims is a quick chat, but that quickly grows into something more when the two actually get to talking.

Content Warnings: innuendos, swearing, intrusive thoughts, implied NS/FW (but nothing happens, dw), hurt-comfort

Logan had taken shelter in his room the moment Thomas got home from his outing with Nico. The logical side couldn’t stand to be around the other sides at the moment and he needed to sort out what was going on in his head.

The spectacled side took a deep breath and sat at his desk, staring at the wooden tabletop before slamming his fist down on it. “Fuck!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, infinitely thankful for the magic soundproofing around everyone’s rooms. What would the others think if they heard the rational, level headed (yeah right) Logic yelling expletives at random in his room?

He straightened his tie and glasses and got up, summoning a straw dummy labeled “Thomas”. He stood in front of it and glared at the doll, visibly angry, before he began ranting to it. He talked and talked, yelling at the dummy about how angry he was at being constantly ignored and pushed aside and made fun of, and if the familiar 10 notes announcing a certain Creativity’s presence hadn’t gotten his attention, he would have continued.

“My my Logan, you’ve got so much to say and no one to say it to, huh!” The moustached side raised an eyebrow, smirking at the nerd.

“...what do you want, Remus.” Logan’s words were curt, like he was trying to say just little enough to make the Dark Side leave.

“Gosh, I can’t just talk to a friend?-”

“We are not friends.”

“Ouch!” Remus pretended to be injured. “You’re so prickly, like a kinda sexy cactus! What’s up your ass today?”

Logan stopped and consulted his flashcards, hearing Remus snicker at this and trying to ignore the fact that his face was burning slightly. “Um… Ah.” He found the card he was looking for and examined it a little. “Nothing is ‘up my ass’ today, Remus. You know full well why I’m upset.”

“Uh huh, cuz I called you out on your lying ass.” He sounded irritatingly proud of that fact.

“Yes, well, you got what you wanted. Are you just here to rub it in my face?” Logan stared at Remus, though he noticeably avoided direct eye contact with the gremlin of a side.

Remus frowned. “No, actually.”

“Then you’re here to make me… feel… worse, correct?”

“Nope!” The green-sashed monster grinned.

“Then what do you possibly hope to gain from this interaction?” The blue tied Side frowned. Remus wasn’t here to bug him, or to upset him further? What reason, then, did he have to come to Logan’s room?

“It’s like I said earlier, I wanted to talk to you!”

“...what about?”

Remus shrugged. “I dunno! What do you wanna talk about?”

Logan blinked. “...excuse me?”

“Yeah! Let’s hear what you wanna talk about!” The Duke sat down on Logan’s bed and grinned up at him.

“...” The teacher was silent. “...you’re mocking me, aren’t you?”

“Huh?” Remus blinked and raised an eyebrow. “Why would I-?”

“Yes, I figured as much. Remus, I don’t have time for your games and if you’re simply going to make fun of me you can just-”

“Woah! Pump the brakes Lo, who said I was making fun of you?” The green side looked legitimately confused.

Logan crossed his arms. “Remus, statistically speaking, a total of… Zero sides share any of my interests. A total of three sides have shown aversion to or have mocked the things I consider interesting or enj- er, have a vague liking towards. Why should I believe you aren’t here to add to the latter set of data?”

“First of all, because I sat through that whole talk.” Remus joked. Seeing that Logan just rolled his eyes, he continued. “And secondly, because we also have some of the same interests! Your census of mockery only includes J-Anus, Emo Boy, Hop-Pop Patton and my dumbass brother!”

“Really? Then what are some of those shared interests, oh Duke of Imaginary Death?”

“That was terrible, one.” Remus held up his pointer finger. “And two, we both like chemistry, and poisoning, and astronomy-”

“Wait wait wait.” Logan held a hand up to silence Remus for a moment. “You… like astronomy?”

“Sure! What’s more existentially terrifying than imagining going hurtling right into the sun, or a black hole, or-” Remus’s eyes widened as he talked about the possibilities.

“Thank you, Remus.” Logic sighed. “But… why talk with… me?”

“Cuz… I kinda owe it to you? After being a dickhead all day?”

Logan blinked. “You didn’t have a phallus for a head today?-”

“Figure of speech, teach.” Remus explained curtly.

Logan ‘ah’d’ and nodded.

“And anyways… I wanted to apologize.”

That caused Logan to stop. “...you… wanted to apologize… to me?”

“Yeah, it’s weird for me too, but it’s true! I didn’t mean to make you so mad you - figuratively - blew up, I just wanted to prove a point.”

“I appreciate your use of the word figuratively Remus, and… thank you.”

“No problem!” Remus grinned and thought for a second. “So… wanna talk about forensics?”

Logan’s eyes lit up. “Do I ever!-” He stopped. “Ah, uh, I mean… If you’d like to…?”

Remus giggled. “Cute! But you don’t have to hide that, not around me at least!”

“...thank you…” Logan smiled softly and the duke’s heart just about stopped.

“Uh, um… no problem Nerdy Wolverine.” Remus smiled weakly at the cute nerd.

The logical side rolled his eyes and playfully pushed Remus’s shoulder, which brought the moustached side’s attention to just how touch starved he was - a problem for another day, Mus.

“So what d'ya wanna talk about? Black lights, true crime?”

“Both interesting conversations, but… how about another topic you mentioned earlier?” Logan sounded timid, like he was scared Remus would stop listening if he dared to change the subject.

“Oh? What’d you have in mind?” The intrusive thot tilted his head at a sickening 180 degree angle, but that didn’t seem to bother Logan.

“You mentioned being fascinated by astrology as well. Would you like to talk about that?��

“Of course I would, my nerdy Astro-Boy Toy~” Remus laughed at his own nickname, to which Logan rolled his eyes again. “What about space, starlight?”

Logan’s smile grew ever so slightly, thankfully drawing Remus’s attention to that as opposed to his pink cheeks. “Well… let’s talk about constellations. You’re a storyteller of sorts, what’s your favorite constellation origin story?”

“Ooh, how fun!” Remus grinned. “Well, I personally love the story of Aquila, the king who got turned into a golden eagle messenger thing because Zeus got jealous of how much people liked him! You know, he’s the one who brought Zeus his cupbearer, Ganymede? That’s where the Aquarius constellation comes from! He was some Trojan prince, he ended up being the god of homosexual love! Historians think his name was a euphemism, since it’s a combination of the Greek words for ‘gladdening’ and ‘genitals’!”

Logan nodded and watched Remus explain the stories, smiling at how enthusiastically Remus shared the information. Remus noticed this and stopped. “Well, how ‘bout you, teach?”

“Huh?” Logan blinked, being pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Remus’s voice.

“You wanted to talk about constellations! What’s your favorite story?”

“Oh, um… I enjoy the story of Orion, the hunter who killed so many innocent creatures that Gaea sent a large scorpion to kill him and then put both of them in the stars for all eternity.”

“Huh! So that Scorpio constellation…?”

“Yes, that’s its origin story as well.” Logan smiled.

“Funny! I would never have guessed it!” That wasn’t true. Remus knew each and every constellation origin story like the back of his palm. He loved Greek mythology, but the only thing he loved more than that was seeing how Logan’s face lit up when he got to explain it. “Any other stories?”

The teacher blinked and adjusted his glasses. “Oh, um… I also enjoy the Cassiopeia story…”

The duke’s face brightened, eagerly awaiting Logan’s explanation. The spectacled astronomer’s face turned pink when he realized this, not sure what to do with this sort of attention.

“Well, Cassiopeia was a queen in Ancient Greece and she claimed to be the most beautiful thing in creation, which Posideon took personally since he had made what he considered to be the most beautiful creatures, and those were the sea nymphs. So Posideon sent Cetus, this giant sea monster, to torment the town, and he told the citizens that if they wanted him to get rid of the monster, Cassiopeia would have to apologize. She didn’t, so they asked if they could do anything else, and Posideon said if they sacrificed Cassiopeia’s daughter Andromeda to him that Cetus would go away, so the townspeople kidnapped her and brought her down to the pier. Poseidon didn’t like that, of course, since he was really just trying to get Cassiopeia to apologize and didn’t want some poor mortal’s blood on his hands so he let Perseus save her and kill Cetus.

“As punishment for almost letting her daughter die to save her own pride and for insulting the gods, they put her in the sky upside down on a chair to humiliate her for the rest of time.” Logan had gotten pretty excited while he explained the story, grinning widely as he finally finished it.

Remus was silent the entire time, watching how happily Logan told him a story he’d heard a million times before and thinking about how nice it was to be able to hear it from the nerd’s perspective.

Logan, finally remembering Remus was there, coughed softly and adjusted his tie, his smile fading. “Um, apologies, Remus. Thank you for letting me ramble.”

“Lo, you were telling a story! That’d be really dickish for someone to just cut you off during a story, you know?”

“I know, but I still appreciate it.” Logan yawned and Remus realized he looked tired, like the story had exhausted him.

“You wanna take a nap, teach?” The duke frowned and tilted his head.

“I… I have to finish up my work for the day…” The logical side moved his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“...Lo?”

“Yes…?”

“You had a long day. Yes it was cuz I was being a bitch, but still, you need to get some sleep. Or, y’know, I’m gonna be even more of a bitch to deal with!” Threatening intrusive thoughts usually worked to get Janus to go to bed when he refused to sleep, so he figured he’d try the technique out on Logan.

The nerd however simply shook his head and laughed softly. “I don’t think so, Remus. I can… I can handle you…”

“You couldn’t today, could you?” Remus accidentally blurted out before immediately covering his mouth. “Oh my god I didn’t mean that-”

“It’s fine, Remus.” Logan stated, rubbing his eyes. “You’re right. I couldn’t handle you today. But I really do have to finish working on this-”

“I’ll stay with you if you go to bed!” The duke once again blurted out. “Cuz I don’t think you’d wanna stay alone with Orange so close by, y’know? I can stay and like, fend him off!”

Logic blinked at the proposition and squinted. “...you… want to stay with me? Why are you so adamant about me getting proper sleep?”

“Well one, cuz it’s already 10:30 at night, and two, cuz… you know, I don’t wanna end up actually hurting you!”

That further surprised Logan. “You don’t want to end up hurting me? I was under the impression that that’s something you enjoyed.”

“Well…” Remus was hesitant to explain - that tipped Logan into the fact that it was probably something more than that.

“What’s really going on Remus?” The stern side crossed his arms and stared at the Creativity.

“...okay, I don’t wanna be alone tonight!” The duke stomped his foot and crossed his arms, looking away. “My nightmares have been getting worse and Janus is hanging out with Roman and Patton today and Virgil hates my guts so I figured I’d at least try to hang out with the one side that for some reason still tolerates my dumb ass!” He sounded a little hurt, and added, “Or, one that wouldn’t immediately kick me out or hit me with a broom at the mere sight of me.”

Logan blinked. “Nightmares? You suffer from nightmares?”

Remus sighed and tugged on his sash. “Yeah, they suck ass - not in a fun way - but it’s part of the job description, y’know?”

“I don’t. But… does this mean you also suffer from intrusive thoughts?”

“...yeah… They’re kinda the reason I came in here in the first place...”

The logical side sighed. “Remus, you could have told me sooner you just needed company. I’m not the best at keeping up conversation but I could have at least put on a movie for you to refocus on something other than your intrusive thoughts.”

The duke blinked. “You… you’re not gonna just kick me out?”

“Why would I? You’re in need of assistance and I’m going to provide it for you.” Logan got up and rummaged through his DVD stack. “What would you like to watch?”

Remus stretched and looked over. “Whatever ya want, Sub-astute but Super Cute Teacher.”

Both sides flushed red when they realized what Remus had said.

“...interesting nickname, Remus.” Logan gulped, looking down.

“Yeah, uh…” The duke laughed weakly. “Well, I guess that cat’s out of the plastic bag it was choking in, huh?”

“What, that you think I’m cute?” The teacher looked over at the moustached Creativity. “You already called me sexy.”

“Well yeah, but that felt less… sappy, than calling you cute. And anyways, I meant that I was into you. Ooh, do you have Coraline?”

Logan stopped. “...repeat that, please?”

“The Coraline thing?-”

“The thing before the Coraline request.”

“Oh yeah, I like you.” Remus was right to the point, like always. “When I saw you take the shuriken to the face and just keep on moving right along… God, that was an image!” The duke gripped his thigh and shook his head, stopping himself from reaching down his pants.

“And you’re telling me this now… why?” The teacher was still reeling from the initial confession.

“We don’t get to talk one-on-one a lot! Plus, I don’t really like talking about cutesy emotions - that’s Roman’s department, y’know?”

Logan nodded slowly.

“Anyways, I changed my mind on the movie, can you put on Monster House?”

The spectacled side nodded and got the CD for Monster House, putting it in the DVD player and sitting next to the green-sashed side. He should have figured Remus wouldn’t be the type to linger on his feelings, and he was grateful for that at least. He couldn’t handle talking about feelings for long periods, especially not his own, but to have one of the most passionate sides just drop the fact that they liked him and immediately move on from that fact? It was odd. He almost couldn’t believe it.

Remus meanwhile was laying on the bed and watching the movie intently, smiling brightly at the screen before realizing that Logan had gotten into bed next to him. He turned over a little and growled “seductively” at the teacher, who laughed softly at the dark creativity. The sound caused butterflies to erupt in the duke’s stomach, flustering him a little. He smiled back at the logical side before returning his attention to the movie.

Logan meanwhile admired Remus, watching as he talked excitedly about the movie. He found it strangely endearing, how excitable Remus got when he was able to talk about things he found interesting. He didn’t have much time to think about it though, as he found himself falling asleep soon after the thought passed through his head. The astronerd yawned and passed out, sleeping peacefully next to the intrusive side.

The duke didn’t notice until he felt warm arms wrap around him. It startled the hell out of him, but he relaxed after he realized it was simply the sleeping teacher clinging to him. He carefully took Logan’s glasses off and turned off the TV before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

**The next morning**

Logan woke up first the following morning, still a little tired but feeling much better than he did the previous night. Vision blurry, the blind scholar felt around his nightstand for his glasses before realizing he was curled up into another person. He quickly got his specs on and saw the sleeping form of Remus below him, remembering that Remus had asked to stay with him the night before.

He looked at the sleeping creativity, who looked much more peaceful (and admittedly much cuter) asleep than he ever did awake. Still feeling somewhat tired, the Sherlock kinnie looked away and closed his eyes, feeling his face start to burn. When did he start thinking of Remus as “cute”?

Logan didn’t have too much time to dwell on it as he heard Remus start to stir. “Ugh… morning starshine…”

The teacher jumped and sighed. “Oh, good morning Remus. Did you sleep well?”

“Like an asphyxiated baby… you?” Remus groaned and stretched, waking up a bit more.

“I slept well too.” Logan fidgeted with his hands. The dark creativity, sensing the spectacled nerd’s unease, sat up and went to get off the bed. He was somewhat shocked to feel Logan tug on his sleeve. “Stay. I wanted to talk about what you said to me last night.”

“Oh… that.” Remus sighed and sat back on the bed. “What about it?”

“I… I’m not entirely sure what it feels like, but I think I reciprocate your feelings?”

Remus’s expression changed from slight concern to a poorly hidden malicious grin. “Oh? You’re into me?”

“I… think I am.” Logan nodded slightly.

The duke was silent for a moment before bursting into a grating cackle. “Oh- oh my god! Oh my god, you’re gonna kill me nerd!”

The scholarly side tensed up and blinked. “Excuse me?-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! What kind of goddamn loser are you, to think I - or anyone really - would like you?! Especially after the bullshit you pulled yesterday, like Jesus Christ you’re pathetic!”

Logan’s heart sank as he heard Remus say this. “So you were, what, mocking me?!”

“No shit, Sherlock!” The intrusive side cackled once again before morphing into a huge octopus-human hybrid monster and grabbing the teacher. “You’re so fucking stupid! What on Earth made you think someone like me would like someone like you?! You’re lucky any of the others even talk to you anymore!”

Logan panicked as the tentacles pulled him up to Remus’s razor sharp teeth, about to chomp down on his head, when-

“Lo! Logan, wake up!” The logical side heard Remus’s voice coming from somewhere it should not have been, and Logan woke up with a start. Remus frowned as the teacher practically flung himself away from him.

“Get away from me!” Logan’s voice sounded frantic and panicked, like a cornered animal.

“Woah, woah!” The creativity held his hands up in surrender. “Teach, it’s me!”

The teacher took a few deep breaths and grounded himself, looking around. “...right, right… Apologies, Remus…”

“No problem, Nerdy Wolverine. Now, care to tell me what happened?”

Logan sighed and moved over to Remus, explaining to him his nightmare, tentatively telling the nightmare inducing side that he’d tried professing his mutual love to the other before getting horrendously mocked and belittled.

“Sounds a lot like my Nightmare Nico scenario. Has this happened before?” Remus had managed to ignore his thundering heartbeat and the cheering going on in his head - Logan likes me back!! He could focus on that later. Right now, Logan needed his help.

“No. I don’t normally dream, period, so to get a nightmare is extremely unprecedented.”

“Huh… so, I’m the reason you had the nightmare?”

“That would be the logical conclusion, though I had assumed that your effects would be… muffled, in my room?”

“Maybe it’s a mix of psychological and my effect on you guys? Like you were stressed or anxious about last night so my ability to give people nightmares got amplified?”

Logan nodded. “Interesting hypothesis, and it’s… definitely possible. I apologize for yelling at you earlier.”

Remus shrugged. “Eh, it’s okay, I’ve heard worse.”

The nerd nodded and the two were silent for a moment before Remus sighed and asked what they were both thinking. “So. I like you, and you… apparently like me back? What does that make us?”

Logan hesitated. “I… I’m not sure. What would you like us to be?”

The duke grinned. “How about boyfriends?”

The scholar smiled. “I think I’d like that.”

Remus beamed brighter and moved a bit before stopping. “Can I kiss you?”

Once again mildly surprised by the other’s bluntness, Logan nodded and scooted closer to the dark creativity. Remus quickly pulled the former into a kiss.

Logan was the first to pull away, flushed red and smiling to himself. “I think I could get used to this.”

Remus grinned and took the scholar’s hand. “Me too, Lo. Me too.”

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

“Just keep breathing. In and out. You’re doing great.” 11 with lewthur but with caretaker Arthur again bc it’s my favorite okay

HELL YEAH (source)

(context: instead of dying in the cave, lewis was “saved” and taken hostage by the station people, who also found reverb trapped in the arm. and they wiped vivi’s memories. juuust to be thorough)

Arthur never really expected to find Lewis anywhere they went – not after the first few times, it was just setting himself up for disappointment – but if he'd thought about it, he would have said that he was hoping not to find him here.

Lewis hated doctors, hated anything medical, hated white walls and being trapped and this place was the worst possible place for him. Underground and freezing cold, devoid of any real signs of life, full of cold, clinical language.

But as soon as Arthur noticed the musical theme of the place, a sick feeling of anticipation started to settle in his stomach.

That only got worse when they eventually found a room with a working computer. Arthur instructed Vivi and Mystery to watch the doors, and then started to search through the files – it seemed to just have a database, along with some other tools he wasn’t confident enough to touch yet. Most of the listed subjects weren’t human, were some kind of spirit or magic creature – but there was one, listed as human subject, that made his heart drop.

Harmony. He knew that name, remembered Lewis as a tiny child and that name sewn into the back of his shirt but if anyone said it he’d panic or shut down–

He committed the room code to memory and took off, not even bothering to give the other two a we’re going! first. The tunnels turned into a blur as he raced through them, barely stopping to check the signs for which way to turn.

Then, finally, they made it to the right room, and he slammed the door open. There was an observation window splitting the room in half, and he looked through it and–

–oh. Oh, god.

It was unmistakably Lewis, even with his hair out of its usual style and hanging in limp, dirty coils over his face, slumped over in the corner and god he’d lost so much weight–

“Shit,” he faintly heard Vivi breathe behind him, “shit, is that a person-?”

He didn’t have time to answer her, he had to get in there – but the door to into the test chamber was locked, someone must have left it like that when this place was abandoned not too long ago. He was reaching for the set of picks he’d stashed in his vest when he picked up a faint noise from behind the glass and his head jerked up.

Something... dark and smoky – mist? Fog? – was seeping into the chamber. Slowly, it took on a shape that looked almost... human. Its head – if it could be called that yet – was already focused in on Lewis, who was still unresponsive.

There was no time to pick the lock, he could feel it. Instead he backed up and balled his prosthetic hand into a fist and rammed it into the wall as hard as he could, and the glass, as it is wont to do, shattered.

He forced his way through the newly-made hole, paying no attention to the shards around the edge, and scrambled a couple steps forward before that thing had its eyes on him. It was forming a face now, glowing and sick green in a way that felt too familiar, in a blurry half-remembered way.

“Well, look at this!” it crowed, swirling slightly upward. “You’re actually here! It’s like a little reunion.”

Then it was moving for him, and there was nothing he could do to fight something that wasn’t corporeal –

And then Vivi stepped in with her bat at the ready, and Mystery hopped in after her, and the thing visibly recoiled, looking between the two of them. Its eyes settled on the dog for a moment, and it hissed. “You.”

Arthur didn’t pay too much attention to them – he was already moving for Lewis, dropping to his knees in front of him and with the monster at his back. 

“Lewis?“ he said, keeping his voice soft. He must have heard him, because his head picked up–

–and then he lunged back with a small gasp, eyes going wide with fear. He only got a little ways before something stopped him with a loud clank – he was bound to the wall.

“Lewis, it’s okay-” Arthur reached out to him with one hand, trying to reassure him, and then snapped his attention to the chains. He kept up a steady stream of reassurances as he worked, “it’s okay, you’re safe now, you’re going to be okay, just hang on.”

By some incredible stroke of luck, for which he spent a moment silently thanking whatever-was-watching in his head, whoever was in charge of the security in this place had made the common-but-still-embarrassing mistake of buying from a company that sounded fancy but didn’t actually have any idea how to make a lock. He shimmed it open in barely a second and the entire thing fell apart.

He looked back to Lewis, who still seemed frozen – had he even recognized him yet? – and scooted a little closer, reaching out again. This time he didn’t flinch away, and Arthur was able to close the distance and put a hand on his cheek. It was tacky with dried tears or sweat – it was impossible to tell – and his eyes were almost sunken, surrounded by dark circles.

“Lewis, it’s me,” he tried again. “I’m here now.”

He drew a little closer and then Lewis practically fell into him, burying his face in his shoulder. His breathing was shaky, unsteady, and if he was trying to hug him he was too weak to even get his hands up to his shoulders. Arthur just held him for a moment, rubbing his back with one hand, trying not to pay attention to the outline of his ribs and spine.

“We need to move,” he said after a moment, remembering that Vivi and Mystery were still holding back that thing. “Can you walk?”

“...dunno,” was the hoarse, almost-whispered reply.

“Okay. Just lean on me, okay? I’ve got you.”

They stood up together, Lewis’s legs shaking and threatening to give out before Arthur caught him and supported him a little more. This time, Arthur remembered to call out to Vivi as they were headed for the exit, and he briefly saw her head jerk around before he looked back towards the hole they’d made in the glass. He briefly struggled to get Lewis over the hole without scraping his knees, he couldn’t lift his legs high enough – and then Vivi was on his other side and, without another question, lifting him up and dragging him along, and they all started to run.

They were almost to what looked like a fire exit, when Arthur heard that indistinct whispering that had preceded the spirit’s arrival earlier. He saw wisps on the edge of his vision and could only try to move faster. Vivi suddenly disappeared and Lewis dipped forward, slowing both of them down significantly. The spirit was forming again next to him, that same sick grin stretched across its face–

Vivi’s bat connected with the thing’s chest and it exploded in a shower of ice-blue light.

When the light cleared, there was a frozen impact of ice shards in its chest, and it was visibly reeling. Vivi stared at it for a second, and then turned and ran for the others again, and that was everyone’s cue to start moving.

Arthur shouldered the door open, and thankfully there were only a few stairs, and he could see the bright orange of their van through the trees.

“Vivi, you drive,” he said when they were getting close to it.

She stared at him for a moment, visibly bewildered by this request. “What? I can-”

“Please.” He couldn’t leave Lewis alone, and she didn’t know what was going on, didn’t know how to help.

Maybe she could see or hear his desperation, because she didn’t argue anymore, just nodded and headed for the driver’s seat.

“Where are we going?”

“Home.”

Arthur helped Lewis up the steep ledge of the van’s back doors, and then they both dropped to the ground, and it was silent for a moment as the van’s engine whirred to life and they started moving.

It didn’t take much longer for Lewis to start hyperventilating.

Arthur was there in an instant, pulling him to his chest again, and forcing his own breathing to be even and slow as he rubbed his back and murmured reassurances. “It’s okay. You’re safe. We’re gone, you’re never going back there. Just keep breathing. In and out. You’re doing great.”

It wasn’t long before he devolved into what might have been weak, hiccupy sobs, though he was too dehydrated for any actual tears. Arthur started carding one hand through his hair.

“You want some water?” he asked after a while. Lewis just nodded unsteadily against his shirt. 

Arthur pulled away a little and grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler. He helped Lewis drink, guiding the bottle with his hands.

After that, Lewis just stared at him for a while, and then reached out and put a hand over his.

“This... is you? You’re... real?”

His voice was still weak, but not quite as ragged as it had been before. Arthur picked up his hand and squeezed it.

“Yeah. I’m here. I promise.”

--

Lewis spent most of the next day pretty out of it, sleeping occasionally only to jolt awake at the slightest disturbance. Arthur barely left his side the entire time, except to grab water or something light to try to coax him to eat. He was always there to hold him and offer reassurances that yes, he was here, this was real, he was home and he wasn’t going to go anywhere.

At some point, pretty late in the night, Lewis was curled up against Arthur’s shoulder again, at the end of another bout of weak sobbing. He lifted his head only barely to speak.

“I still... smell like that place,” he murmured.

“You wanna take a shower?” Arthur answered, sitting up a little.

“Mm... too much work...” he laid his head back down again. “Don’t want you to leave...”

“I’ll help. C’mon.”

So Arthur pulled off the papery gown Lewis was still dressed in and helped him bathe, replacing the smell of sweat and disinfectant with the flowers and sweet vanilla of the bath soaps. He didn’t say anything about the large, messy, still-healing gashes in his side, just gently washed away the blood still left around the wound. He worked shampoo and conditioner through his hair, detangling the messy locks until they lay almost flat against his neck. The gentle rhythm lulled Lewis almost to sleep, swaying slightly as he sat in the bath, Arthur humming softly to him.

Once that was done, he helped him into clean pajamas, finally rid of every lingering trace of that fucking facility. Lewis’s own bed was dirty from him lying in it, so until the sheets could be changed, they both laid down in Arthur’s room instead.

They laid there in the darkness, the only sound a distant fan running in some other part of the house, and for a while, were just silent.

“...thank you,” Lewis said eventually, not opening his eyes.

“Of course,” Arthur responded immediately. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You came for me,” he continued. “I thought you were...”

Oh. He wasn’t just talking about the bath.

Arthur sat up a little, putting one hand on Lewis’s face and tilting it up toward his. “Hey. Look at me. I will always be there for you. No matter what. I’d look forever if I had to, okay? I would never leave you in a place like that.”

Lewis nodded slightly, and then went back to curling up against him.

“Thank you,” he said again, a barely-audible whisper.

[kinktae]

bitchin’ || pt. 7 (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 3.4k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: sorry this chapter is so short :(

A/N: This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness!

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

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PART SEVEN

Your fingers wrapped around the metal handle, prying open the door of your dorm.

Unsurprisingly, you were met with a mop of dark hair and a full set of white teeth, Jungkook's smile wide and blinding. You had figured the incessant knocking was his doing.

"Yes?"

Your tone was dry, clueing Jungkook in that despite the 24 hours that had passed since the day of your event, you were still, in fact, pissed at him.

Moving a hand from behind his back, he presented you with a bouquet of yellow flowers, jutting them your way. Your eyes fell onto the flowers with indifference, clearly not impressed.

"These are for you." He enthused.

"Is this your way of apologizing?"

Jungkook sighed, flowers falling to his side, “Change into something nice, we’re going out.”

You quirked a brow at him.

“Uh, or don’t! What you’re wearing right now is cool too! Totally up to you.” He backtracked quickly.

You were in polka-dotted pajama pants, a plain white t-shirt on your upper body– his shirt actually. You had stolen it from him some time ago, he was just good-natured enough to pretend like he hadn't noticed.

Rolling your eyes, you snatched the bouquet out of his eyes, the faintest hint of a grin on your lips.

"Fine." You agreed, hand coming out to press back against his chest as he tried to walk into your dorm. "But you're waiting here."

Jungkook pouted as the door shut shortly after, feeling very much like a puppy who had been put in time out.

And just like a puppy, any grudge he felt towards his owner was forgotten the moment you came back out, his cheeks warm as you intertwined your hand with his, unable to hold a grudge against him either.

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"Is the blindfold really necessary?" Your voice wavered nervously, a scarf wrapped tightly around your head to block your vision. You had both of your hands gripped around Jungkook's arm as he attempted to guide you up a set of stairs.

"Yes, it'll ruin the surprise if you see where we're going."

"My ass is going to be ruined if I fall and bust it."

"And what a nice ass it is." Jungkook tutted sadly, causing you to snort.

"Make sure you're paying attention to where we're going." You scolded, slapping his bicep.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, "Relax, nerd, we're here."

Your steps were brought to a halt, the sound of a heavy door opening ringing out. You cocked your head as a breeze washed over you, the kind that didn’t feel like it came from air conditioning.

"Grant me sight, oh powerful one." You joked as Jungkook began to untie your blindfold.

You squinted harshly as light flooded your eyes, blinking away spots the blurriness as you took in your surroundings.

"Where are we?" You marveled.

"The multimedia building rooftop." He informed you as you stepped out of the doorway, admiring the garden that was spread across the entire space. A makeshift greenhouse, you deduced. "It's where the Botany Club and Gardening Club meet and work."

You were absolutely enthralled, you hadn't the slightest clue that a place like this was sitting hidden on your campus. And as beautiful as it was up here, it was the woven picnic basket sitting by a bush of familiar-looking yellow flowers that caught your attention. Immediately, you recognized them as being the flowers Jungkook had gifted you with back at your dorm. You grinned.

Accompanying the basket was a pile of colorful blankets laid out of the concrete floor, along with pillows and another bouquet of yellow flowers, this time set up nicely in a glass vase.

"You know I don't cook, but, uh, I do know how to make a mean PB&J sandwich so..." Jungkook laughed nervously, gesturing towards the picnic he had set up.

A strange feeling fluttered in your stomach, and you brought up a hand to press up against it reflexively. He had arranged all of this... for you?

"Oh, wow." Was your response, the butterflies in your stomach hard to ignore.

Your reaction was hard to decipher and it made Jungkook incredibly anxious. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, "Well, let's go, nerd."

You followed Jungkook over to the picnic scene, sliding off your shoes before stepping onto the blanketed spot, flopping down with an excited giggle. You had been toying with the tassels of one of the pillows near you when Jungkook pulled out a small portable radio for the basket, a word of approval leaving your lips. He really did think of everything, didn't he?

"How did you even find this place?" You marvel as he fiddled with the radio dial, flipping through stations until he found one he was content with.

"I went to a photography club meeting and they mentioned this place being a good spot for sunset shots."

You had taken note a little wooden popsicle stick poking up from the soil of the yellow flowers. Acacias, they were marked. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you considering his words.

"You went to a photography club meeting? Wait, are you–"

"I'm considering switching majors, yeah." He cut you off, leaning back away from the radio and taking a seat beside you.

"Not even!" You gaped.

"It's not that big of a deal." He shrugged nonchalantly. He was only changing his entire career path because you had told him you believed in him. No biggie, right?

"It's huge news, I mean, you're taking the initiative and pursuing your passion. I'm amped for you." You grinned to which Jungkook couldn't help but return, reaching into the picnic basket to pull out your sandwiches.

The two of you sat beside each other comfortably, washing your food down with sips from your respective juice boxes, which Jungkook had so endearingly provided. You hummed along to the radio as the sun slowly started its descent down the sky.

Suddenly, Jungkook cleared his throat, a clear sign that he was asking for your attention.

"So, you probably know why I brought you here."

You nodded.

"You're proposing, right?"

"Yeah, I– oh, shut up." He laughed, the serious mood shattering as you joined him.

“No, I just really wanted to apologize for the way I behaved at your event. I acted on impulse and wasn't thinking past my... raging man ego or whatever." Jungkook sighed, eyes meeting yours earnestly. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, eager to hear him out.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I would never want to do anything to hurt my best friend and I know how hard you worked on this event and— why are you looking at me like that?” He huffed, cutting himself off mid-apology.

“You just called me your best friend.” You beamed, cheeks round.

Jungkook felt himself redden, turning away from your admittedly adorable expression.

“Yeah. So?”

“That’s so cute.” You fawned. “And you did all this for me. You can be really sweet when you want to be, you know.”

Jungkook wasn’t used to this kind of doting affection being directed at him, much less coming from you of all people. He swatted away your hand that had reached out to pinch his cheek.

“Yeah, yeah, just zip it before I demote you back down to classroom acquaintance.”

You hummed contentedly, “I accept your apology. And for what it's worth, I also consider you to be one of my best friends.”

"Ouch, just one of them? That's cold." Jungkook pouted, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Sorry, Yara's got spot number one on lock." You shrugged, bringing your juice box to your mouth as you took a sip. "Chicks before dicks."

"Fine, but tell me I'm at least best friend number two."

"Hmm..." You tapped at your chin, pretending to think about your response.

"What the hell? Who could possibly be before me? Taehyung?...Kiri?" Jungkook teased.

At the sound of Kiri's name, you physically tensed, something Jungkook didn't fail to notice.

"...Yep, definitely Kiri." You played along half-heartedly.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" You straightened up suddenly, turning towards the boy. "You told me Kiri left you for Eunwoo, right?"

"Yeah... Why?"

"Oh. Well, I dunno, I heard from someone that you and Kiri were actually broken up at the time." You fiddled with your fingers anxiously, choosing to omit the fact that his ex-girlfriend had been your source of information.

The long-haired boy stared at you for a moment, expression unreadable as he took in your uneasy state.

"Well. Yeah. We weren't together." He answered finally, causing your stomach to drop.

Wait... Kiri had told the truth?

"But you said she left you for him? You lied to me." You breathed in disbelief.

"Hold on, I didn't lie." He pressed, brows furrowing at your words. "Yes, we weren't together, but we weren't broken up either?"

You flashed him a confused look, urging him to explain further.

He let out a sigh, stretching out his legs in front of him, "We had been arguing a lot, like more than usual, so we both agreed to take a break from each other– nothing permanent, just some time apart where we didn't see each other every day like we had been. The morning before I met you, however, I was coming down one of the halls at the Beta Tau Sigma house when I caught her sneaking out of Eunwoo's room. She broke up with me before I even got to say a single word. So yeah. She left me for Eunwoo."

You felt your shoulders fall, body relaxing at this new information.

"Oh."

"I was going to take her out for dinner that same day too. Clearly, we were on different pages on what this break was supposed to be for. Any other questions?" Jungkook quirked an eyebrow up at you pointedly, and suddenly you were filled with guilt.

Was this whole thing really just one giant miscommunication between the two? Kiri under the impression that they were broken up while Jungkook wasn’t? Jeez, you really jumped the gun there, didn't you?

"Ah, shit... Well, now I feel like a total wastoid for accusing you of lying." You expressed your regret, poking a finger into his thigh sheepishly.

Jungkook gave you a once over before chuckling, a hand reaching out to take your face between his fingers as he squeezed your cheeks.

"Say you're sorry."

"'M s’rry!" Your muffled words came through squished lips causing him to giggle.

"Say 'Gosh, Jungkook! You're such an honest and wonderful person. I'm a fool for ever doubting you.’'" He smirked. You rolled your eyes, face having grown sore.

"Asshole, let m’go! M'cheeks hurt!"

Thankfully, he granted your request, freeing your cheeks from their state of enslavement so that you could rub at them woefully.

"You're a child." You scowled.

"You sound like Kiri." Jungkook reminisced, recalling how his ex-girlfriend often said those very words.

"Yeah, well, soon enough it'll be her saying that instead of me." You joked.

The joke fell flat, failing to earn even a smile from him.

"Nah," he replied coldly, "like you said, if she wanted me back, she'd already have come back."

You cursed internally. You had completely forgotten you had spat that out while scolding Jungkook for nearly going apeshit on Eunwoo, and once again, you were left feeling shitty.

"Hey, I said that out of frustration, I didn't really mean it. I'm sure she'll come crawling back soon." You attempted to comfort him, hoping to sound sincere.

"Even if that's true, I'm not entirely sure I want that anymore."

"What?" You blinked. Jungkook shrugged.

"What about us?" He met your eyes, causing your breath to hitch.

"What about us?"

Jungkook stared at you for a moment, noting the way the timber in your voice had become higher pitched as if panicked.

"Yara told me how you'd be really bummed if you lost me once Kiri and I got back together. But Y/N, Kiri is going to think you're my ex-girlfriend... there's just no way she'd be okay with me hanging out with you. I don't know if I want to get back together with her if it's going to hurt you..."

The chirps of nearby birds slowly fizzed into a dull hum, drowned out by the deafening pounding of your heart.

Your face felt hot. When you told Yara all that stuff about how fond you had grown of Jungkook, you had been notably drunk from Roommate Wine Night, uncharacteristically vulnerable and in your head. Even so, you didn't think that Yara was gonna go and tell him.

She was so dead.

But what the hell was he saying? He would give up on Kiri just so you didn't have to lose him? He'd give up what he wanted just for you?

"Idiot." You scoffed suddenly, taking him by surprise. "Who cares about me? Yes, I'll probably be really sad that we don't get to hang out anymore but, whatever, I'll get over it. I got my event. You're going to get your end of the deal too, I'll make sure of it."

Your determination was hard set in your eyes which held his pensive ones.

"Kiri will come back, okay? Like, c'mon! She knows she can't do better than you."

Jungkook shot you an insincere smile, "Ah, I'm not so sure she thinks that's true anymore."

"Stop. Listen to me, Jungkook, you're a fucking great guy, okay? You're charismatic and funny and care about your friends... sure, you almost ruined my event, but it was mostly to defend my best friend when Eunwoo got too pushy, right? You're a good guy, meathead. I know I joke about your ego, but I really believe you're capable of more than you think you are. Seriously, Kiri is so lucky to be the object of your affection."

Jungkook watched the way the sun's orange light kissed your face, a bittersweet feeling growing in his chest as he contemplated the object of his affection. Just a couple of months ago, he would have had no doubt about who held his heart, but as you held his stare, he found himself unsure and yet, entirely sure all the same.

“Jungkook? You okay?” You frowned, catching in the sadness in his eyes.

“Hm? Yeah, yeah. I just… realized something.”

“Oh? What's that?”

“...It doesn't matter.” He smiled, the gesture hardly reaching his eyes.

You looked at him for a moment, skepticism evident in those beautiful eyes of yours that reflected the sky's deepening orange and red colors. Jungkook felt like he was sinking into them. Burying himself further and further into a hole that he was unaware had even existed until now and he was in too deep to pull himself back up.

"Kiss me." He spoke softly, making your eyes grow wide. "Please."

There was a note of melancholy to his tone, unlike you had ever heard come from him before. You fought back to urge to dissect it further, choosing instead to oblige his request and press your mouth into his, the thought that he was holding you tighter than usual failing to cross your mind.

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“Hey, hey, hey, hey! What is going on here?”

Yara giggled at the television show, popping a chip into her mouth, the crunching sound pulling you from the thought that had been occupying your mind. Tugging at scrunchie you had on your wrist, you searched for the right way to go about sharing your feelings.

“Yara?”

“Yeah?” The girl in question responded, eyes still fixated on the ever so charming A.C. Slater.

“...Nevermind.” You retracted, shaking your head dismissively.

And just like that, the Saved By The Bell episode was entirely forgotten, Yara's hands taking purchase on your shoulders.

“Bitch, you already have my attention, don’t just blue balls me like that.” She whined, shaking you slightly. You turned away from her curious eyes.

“It’s just… ah, seriously, nevermind, I’m pretty sure I’m just up in my head.” You shrugged her off, leaning back into the couch.

Your best friend watched your suddenly indifferent presence with pursed lips, not buying it for a second.

“You’re gonna ask about Jungkook, right?”

You turned towards Yara, suspicious written all over your narrowed eyes, “How did you know that?”

“I’m a mind reader.” She rolled her eyes passively, turning back to the television. “So, what’s up?”

“I dunno, I just feel like things are so... different between us.”

At your revelation, Yara’s eyes flicked back over to you, “Bad different?”

“No. It’s actually kind of nice. I think.” You frowned, trying to make sense of your thoughts.

“So... good different.” Yara concluded.

“It’s just funny. When I look at the start this whole deal between Jungkook and me—”

“You mean back when you and Jungkook weren’t going at it like animals and having secret rooftop picnics?”

You held her stare for a moment, teeth sinking down into your bottom lip.

“Yeah. Things are so different. I remember a time where I couldn’t even stand being in the same room as him and now…”

"And now you're completely infatuated with him." She sympathized, shaking her head sadly.

“W-What? What the hell are you yapping about? I was gonna say that I actually think of him as a close friend.”

“Oh, Y/N.” Yara let out a breath, her hand placing itself on your head.

“Poor, poor stupid Y/N.” She patted it with a sad look. “How blind you are.”

You swatted your best friend’s hand away, “Get your grubby paws off of me, weirdo. I do not like Jungkook!”

There was an uncomfortable feeling in your throat as you said those words; you swallowed it down immediately.

“Seriously? Y/N, you’re whipped for that kid. Big time.”

“I thought I told you to lay off the crack.” You deadpanned.

“Funny.” Yara glared. “Seriously though, you guys are walking around in a fake relationship while having real feelings for each other and real sex. If anyone’s trippin', it’s you two.”

“Okay, just because people have sex doesn’t mean feelings are always involved.” You scoffed.

“Oh girl, you don’t have to tell that to me, my emotionally constipated ass knows that better than anyone.” Yara mused before shaking her head. “But it’s different with you guys. I see the way you light up whenever he’s near. It’s totally palpable the way you two yearn for each other.”

That wasn't true, wasn't it? Sure, you did notice yourself thinking about him whenever you weren't with him, but wasn't that just because he was a friend? Don't friends usually wonder what the other is doing whenever they're apart? Didn't friends spend hours thinking about the time they spent with each other after they parted?

Suddenly, you felt nauseous.

“Fuck.” You breathed out.

Yara pressed her lips together, taking in the way you suddenly looked like you were one second away from barfing into the bowl of popcorn you had on your lap. She had a reasonably strong guess as to what exactly was running through your mind at this very moment.

"Wanna hear something funny?" She said finally, offering you a change of subject should you take it.

"Yes, please." Was your weak reply.

“I’ve fucked Eunwoo. Eunwoo has fucked Kiri. Kiri has fucked Jungkook, and Jungkook has fucked you."

You blinked, "Yeah?"

"Hello!" Yara exclaimed, "Isn’t that wild? It’s like one big orgy!”

A sharp snort left your nose, sufficiently amused.

"Only one thing left to do for this love chain to come full circle." Yara's eyes suddenly grew mischievous, scooting in closer to you.

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"We gotta get it on, baby!" Yara waggled her eyebrows suggestively, sending you into a round of laughter. She grinned back at you. "Why are you laughing? You don't think I could rock your world?"

"I think you're insane and need to get laid by someone who isn't me." You reasoned, nudging your shoulder into hers.

"Ugh, you're probably right." She sighed in defeat. You knew Yara well enough that this was her attempt to distract you and make you feel better, and honestly, it had worked. For the most part.

You let out a sigh of your own, leaning over to rest the side of your head against hers.

"Do you really think I like Jungkook?" You asked quietly.

Yara let out a contemplative hum as if considering her reply before speaking.

"Honestly, what I think doesn't really matter. What matters is how you feel, you know?"

"Yeah," you exhaled, biting the inside of your cheek as a sinking feeling of understanding finally washed over you, "I think I do."

[minithefutureawaits09]

You said, “Jump” instead I fell hard for you. (Part 2.)

Pairing: Spirk

Universe: AOS, teen-fic.

A/n: This may or may not end up a series because...because...I...dunno we’ll see. Link to part one :https://minithefutureawaits09.tumblr.com/post/650840335516336128/another-drabble-cause-why-not-pairing-spirk

Any who’s, Let’s begin.

——

Jim sat feeling awkward in the foyer of the Embassy. He’d been told by the woman at the desk that she’d sent a message and Spock would come down to retrieve him. This place was well-taken care of. From the shiny marble floors to the Vulcan script on the walls. Every detail in its place. He felt extremely underdressed.

With his plain brown jacket, black t-shirt, jeans, and worn tennis shoes. His hair he’d bothered to make look decent at least, rather than the messy unkempt style from day to day. The sofa was nice too, a simple blue color to complement the rest of the room. If he was being honest it reminded him of the Emerald City from "The Wizard of Oz," just with the way they had described it and the way this room looks. Just as he started to wonder if he’s been forgotten about a voice says his name,

“Jim?”

”Over here, Spock.”

He stands up and waves, shoving his free hand into his pocket. A smile tugged his lips upward as he eyed the other’s outfit. It was a set of robes, much more casual and comfortable looking but similar to the one that the receptionist was wearing. It was a solid black with soft grey designs over it and again, much nicer than what he was wearing. He held onto both of Spock’s arms loosely as he stood much closer. Taking in those brown orbs as they reflected the light, yet seemed to have a nervous glitz about them.

“I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten about me,”

“I apologize, though I did not forget, the elevator took longer than anticipated arriving.”

“It’s alright. How’re you this morning?” “I am functioning adequately, and yourself?”

“I’m tired, but happy to see you.” “Did you not get enough sleep last night?”

“It’s from the trip here, it was a bit farther than I thought it was.” “I see. Though, I am pleased to see you as well.” “So...”

“Shall we head back for chess?”

“Sure. Lead the way, Spock.”

Jim took hold of Spock’s arm as though he was being escorted. He could see the way he seemed a little bothered, but didn’t say anything. Was he making him uncomfortable? He didn’t seem uncomfortable last night from his touch, in fact it was the opposite. Well...It also might have to do with the receptionist who seemed keen on staring at them, it was just them at the park last night. He made uncomfortable eye contact with her a couple of times.

Once in the safety of the elevator, Jim asked quietly,

“Spock, am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all, Jim. It has just been a few years since I have been touched like that.”

“Alright. If you say so.”

It wasn’t a lie, etiquette classes had been almost 7.5 years ago. Though this was likely not what Jim was intending by his question. He knew was referring to the way Spock’s posture had stiffened which was actually a reaction he both couldn’t quite control in time and didn’t know he had. He also realized this may be an opportunity to talk to his partner about the differences in their culture.

They arrived at the door in silence, Spock put in the code, and it slid open. He followed him into the room. Wow. It looked similar to the apartment he and his mom were staying in, though arranged differently.

They were standing in a hallway-like area, on the right, were two small archways that lead to the kitchen and a dining room. On the left, there were three closed doors, he guessed one was the bathroom and had no idea what the others could be. At the end of the hall where it opened up, he guessed might be a living room and a couple of bedrooms.

Spock took his jacket, and he removed his shoes next to the Vulcan's.

“This way, ”

Jim nodded and he took hold of Spock’s hand, who warmly closed his hand around the human’s. He was lead into the open room. He smiled, he’d guessed right. The room was the living room. Decorated with a couple of black sofas, a glass coffee table, and a television on the wall. There were a couple of wide floor-to-ceiling windows on either side of the tv and they both had light grey curtains that appeared to be silk.

There was a small table that he hadn’t noticed, by one of the doors. It had two wooden chairs on either side. Spock let go of his hand and pulled out one of the chairs, gesturing for him to sit. So, he sat down and was effortlessly pushed in.

“If you will wait here, I will go retrieve the chess set.”

Jim nodded and Spock disappeared back down the hall. He heard a door open and close. He let out a sigh. He wondered if the Vulcan felt as out of place as he did at the moment. He likely didn’t the young human reasoned, and he seemed way stiffer than when they’d meet at the library. Did Spock even notice the change in his behavior or was Jim overthinking & over analyzing things that weren’t there? Was he trying to read the fine print that didn’t exist, or between the lines thinking some secret message is going to show? Maybe this wasn’t a good idea- No. He wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to hang out with his friend.

First the long and tedious walk here, then the awkward talk with the receptionist, the underdressed feeling, and now the stiff boyfriend. Could his day be going any more funky? He sighed again. The word pulled the boy up short now that he thought about it. Boyfriend. B-o-y-f-r-i-e-n-d. This was the first serious committed relationship in his life. Although his company was certainly not appriciated nor welcomed in the beginning he honestly isn’t sure what he’s going to do without it. Sure, he’s lived before without the Vulcan’s presence in his life but he’s not sure he can go back to doing so again.

The blonde was scared from his thoughts by a sniffle. He lifted his hands to his eyes to realize they were wet. Had he been crying? He doesn’t remember ever starting. He wiped the tears away with his hand, but they kept coming. He heard the door down the hall open and he started to panic. Jesus Christ, why can’t he hold it together all of a sudden?

He places his head down, face hidden by his arms as he hopes maybe his partner will think he fell asleep in the shot time from exhaustion. He’s saying a silent prayer his breathing isn’t going to be the thing to give it away. He could always blame it on a nightmare. Yeah, that’s what he’ll do. Say he fell asleep briefly after laying his head down and boom. Nightmare happened.

He heard footsteps and the faint noise of game pieces in a box coming toward his general direction and stopping closely.

“Jim?”

He opted not to respond. He’d have to come up with another excuse if he did.

He heard the box be sat down in front of him, and a gentle shake of his shoulder followed. Again no response. When the shake firmed up he moved quickly, wide-eyed and a gasp. The hand had shot back out of surprise as quickly as possible. He wiped at his eyes as a few tears continued to fall.

He glanced over at Spock and at first he saw a surprised look come across his face when he moved so suddenly before the Vulcan pulled whatever emotion he was feeling back under control.

“Jim, are you alright?“

“Y—Yeah, jus’ a Nightmare I suppose,”

God who’s cracking sad voice was that?

“Did you actually sleep adequately last night?”

“B—Best I could, I did have a few terrors last night too,”

And they were real bad, he was up for awhile after with his mom. Though why did he just admit that? He internally scolds himself. There was no reason for that.

“Come,”

Spock had taken one of his hands and was pulling him up and leading him to somewhere.

“But what about—”

“The chess game can wait,”

“But I-”

“Jim, please.”

Jim conceded the argument after that, and stood up. He felt an arm around his waist and was pulled close to the Vulcan, his free hand resting against the chest in front of him. Letting go of his hand momentarily, and with a gentle touch, the blonde felt his tears be wiped away. He looked up to meet the other’s concerned look. Though his face remained neutral for the most part, he could see the gloss of concern coating those chocolate like orbs he’s coming to adore, and the hint of a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.

He looks away feeling ashamed, this was a stupid idea; his cheeks start prickling with warmth as he feels the tears form against his will in his eyes. Spock rests his forehead against his partner’s, and the floodgates open. He tries to shove away, to pull himself together and stop making an embarrassment of himself but the firm grasp around him only tightens.

“It is alright Jim,”

A firm but gentle voice tells him. He’s acutely aware of the swaying motion that started. It’s actually what got his attention; that and the warmth surrounding his thoughts. Emotions that are not his own flowing freely. Understanding, reassurance, were the strongest followed by one he’s unsure of. Admiration? What was admirable about his ugly crying, or the half lie he told? What was so admirable about him in this state?

The warmth around his thoughts pulled a little firmer as the voice whispered,

‘Nash-veh ashaya du,’

He opened his eyes, just as the action was mirrored by his partner.

“Is that you I’m feeling?”

He heard the chuckle in his head that confirmed his question. It was. A smile broke out on his face, even if it was still pink and puffy from his tears. He felt himself be guided over to one of the sofas.

His memory has a small gap. He’s not sure exactly how they got into this potion because in all honesty he was busy mentally talking with Spock. He was listening to his explanation what the difference of what their touch last night versus now was.

It was likely Jim was too out of it to really comprehend what Spock was saying. He wasn’t reacting at all like he’d calculated precisely, or maybe he had overestimate, or— That’s when he felt the leveled out breathing. The stilled mind under his fingers, which he withdrew for a much more comfortable position leaving behind a pleasant tingling sensation. Just picking up on Jim’s surface thoughts now, surface emotions. He closed his eyes and before he knew it, he too joined the other in sleep.

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom season 2, eps 1-5 thoughts! opening the new season with episodes like these kinda blew me away. we had multiple serious episodes INCLUDING a two parter!! also, valerie :)

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-I don't know what I expected s2 to open with. but danny portal incident in more detail was not it. (also, I hate to break it to you, sam, but danny's parent's bigass ghost hunting rv def chugs more gas than those vehicles, lmao. unless it runs on ectoplasm or something...)

-WHY WAS DESIREE IN THE SEWER? HAVING TEA WITH IT DOWN THERE?? Her making the giant cow come alive is a boss move, we've almost had all of my fav animals as ghosts now <3 I also don't like how sam was expecting danny to just, haunt the place so the cars wouldn't get sold? I KNOWWW I know she's 14 (and I had a very annoying phase like this, I think I mentioned in a previous post, I GET IT) but they're HIS powers, and messing with (1) dealership will not really put a dent in sales overall because they can just move the cars to another sales lot, and it certainly wont change the industry anyway, it's more of a minor annoyance for (1) location. Also, usually people who work at car sales places work on commission, so if they dont make a sale, they don't have money to pay bills, or eat. sam baby if u wanna be an activist you need to like, actually look into these things. with as much money as her parents have, she could be doing a lot..more useful things for causes she cares about? it's frustrating to see someone with resources who doesn't know how to use them. but shes 14 so again. cannot be really upset :/

-IS THIS A PREDATOR VS TERMINATOR VS FREDDY KRUEGER MOVIE BUT THEYRE ALL WOMEN?? you know, sam is so right to be excited about this. /I/ want to see this movie. that rules

-paulina inviting danny and friends to her quinceañera, aw! even if it is just to get phantom to show up :') and there'll be a meteor shower, and we KNOW danny wants to be an astronaut!! there's not a meteor shower every night!! the tickets are non-refundable, but..she's rich? like. gotta agree with danny, they never get invited!! I KNOW it's the principle of keeping promises, but if she was that upset, she should've said something. directly. I hated how she was like, passive aggressive about it through the episode, like you SAID IT WAS FINE, THAT YOU'D GO TO THE PARTY TOO. MOVIES SHOW FOR A FEW WEEKS IN THEATERS. IF YOU HAD A REAL PROBLEM YOU NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT. WE'VE HAD THIS PROBLEM BEFORE, SAM. YOUR FRIENDS. ARE NOT. MIND READERS.

-MR. LANCER GOING AFTER THE GHOST WITH THE FIRE EXTINGISHER LMAO

-this outfit is everything . anytime the show does an over the top cutesty pink outfit i WANT IT. it looks like shit I wear JKASDHF I HAVE a bow like that and a pink sweater. I need leg warmers </3

-SAMS GOTTA RE-HALF-KILL HIM??? thats fucked up. but also, he finally got his logo!! it took until s2!!! this episode was lowkey very fucked and I felt like it glossed over a lot. does sam have guilt about like. kinda KILLING HIM?? I know, he also agreed and walked into the portal. but. she made the choice to redo it SO quickly (even if it was because someone had to beat desiree) and danny, during their fight, brought up a lot of stuff sam's done in the past, meaning he was holding onto those memories and resentment was building. (I KEEP SAYING HE LOWKEY NEEDS THERAPY, BUT I THINK MOST EVERYONE IN THIS SHOW KINDA DOES) which...is a red flag? and then they didnt even GO to the party URGH I know she tried to make up for it, but it really felt like Sam fucked up and barely faced any consequences and got everything she wanted in the end. I KNOW it's a kids show obv they aren't going to go too in depth, and she undid the damage, kinda, but...I DUNNO how to articulate it but it rubbed me the wrong way.

-but on a note about desiree, her powers of wishes were STRONG ENOUGH TO ERASE NOT JUST THEIR MEMORIES, BUT DANNY'S POWERS?! fuck, if I was danny I'd be like, trying to make friends with her. I know they always have horrible side effects as most genie-granted wishes do, but...c'mon, I'd at least TRY to be like 'I wish no ghosts would hurt anyone in my town' or 'I wish vlad would lose his ghost powers forever no matter What and also forget about my mom' LIKE. SHIT DESIREE IS SO POWERFUL. rewriting reality powerful, basically!! appreciate her. respect her.

-aww, sam helping tucker pass the nurse's office so he wouldn't see because he's afraid of medical stuff? very sweet. I also don't like medical stuff, I've gotten a lot better at handling it tho. but seeing blood and needles still makes me feel lightheaded x_x

-FOLEY, BY TUCKER FOLEY. I want to make my own perfume, that's so cool. even if his first attempt isn't good, he's pretty consistently shown to have an inventor/entrepreneur streak in the show, so like. I can see him inventing or making something (or several somethings) that make him $$$ when he grows up :) proud of my creative son

-I know the 'creepy abandoned hospital on the edge of town' is a joke and the creepy hospital trope is so Worn Out, but in my town we actually DO have a hospital like that! my dad was born in it, but its not in use and hasn't been for, like, 20 years! it needs to be torn down but I think the city doesn't wanna pay the money. the inside is horrible, spray painted and broken glass and shit everywhere. but there's still like, rusty equipment and fucking DOLLS all over the place. the cops drive by it pretty frequently to make sure no one is like, breaking in. (because of water damage, some of the areas really aren't safe. also, asbestos, but people still go in anyway) but also, some of my town was used in a filming for a stephen king show. So it's lowkey spooky all over. just a fun personal tidbit :) to lead into saying, any hospital abandoned for any period of time is NOT safe to quarantine these kids in JKSAHDKF like I KNOW it's a ghost trying to do this, but NONE of these parents are even like, 'well, why dont we keep them in the regular, working hospital'....YIKES. this hospital looks pretty accurate to the one in town. grungy and spooky.

-fentons are tax evaders confirmed by jack's fear of being audited, lol no one is surprised

-ghost sickness via ghost bugs. horrifying concept. I actually expected it to be a new villain, not dr. spectra again! this is a very elaborate scheme. her new form rules, love the new costume. the way none of the bg kids seem to recognize her as their old school councilor. did we just forget about that completely?

-dash watching romance movies in the fucked up ghost hospital. same.

-'oh please, you're ghosts, do you have any idea what YOU smell like?' no, tucker, what DO ghosts smell like? I genuinely didn't know they would even have a smell, I actually want to know now.

-it feels like a while since we've seen jazz!! i was happy to see her again, even if she was a head in a jar for most the episode. I want another jazz-focused ep!!

-we finally see danny doing space-related stuff!! him and his friends stargazing to open ep 3 of s2. cute :) until, GHOST PIRATES!!!!! ...ghost pirate captain is a small child?? VOICED BY TAYLOR LAUTNER???

-oh, the easy listening is ember's song instrumental slowed. 'vapor drone' THEY VAPORWAVED HER!!! ember in a pirate outfit tho >>>>. and the cruise being called m.bersback JKASDHJK. ember adopting a little pirate brother is also pretty cute. concerning this teen and little kid have such bad opinions of adults, like, who hurt you?? (how did you DIE ALSO?? im always lowkey curious about that. we know desiree died at an old age, but her ghost form is young, probably mid-20s, so I wonder how that sort of thing works...its a more mental thing, isn't it?) but ghost team-ups are always cool to see, even if ember bailed after danny took her guitar. I guess she probably thinks youngblood can handle it (which, he's been owning danny this far in the ep, so...fair)

-tucker got that sponsorship from nasty burger for their radio!!! again, opportunistic money maker king, love to see it!!!

-danny taking control of the kids SO FAST. he makes a pretty great leader. no one is surprised, im pretty sure I said I think he's the most mature of the trio, once again, correct, because he's taken on so much responsibility already. all the teens suiting up in the jumpsuits to go save the adults and taking the ship over with a BLIMP. OKAY LETS GO. this feels like it should be a mid finale or straight up finale.

-...speaking of finales. why is ep 4-5 of s2 combined into a 50 minute episode? I havent even clicked play and im concerned. weird placement, like, this season JUST started and we're getting a two parter? okay...why are the episodes placed like this? why not put this at episode 10 or something, for a mid-season thing?

-this is also a cute dress. possibly my fav dress so far. can her parents give ME cute dresses, I'LL wear them.

-it turns out the castle fright knight was in is called pariah's keep and there's something worse than fright knight in there! lovely! fuck off vlad wtf are you doing <3 your hubris <3 is going to literally get you killed <3 'ring of rage' and 'crown of fire' are great names tho. ...vlad turning into a super polite guy when he was scared of mr. pariah was hilarious. and fright knight doing the same...I mean, it makes sense, he's a knight, he serves a king? happy to see fright knight again either way :) vlad telling him to call him tho, lmfao. you WISH HE WOULD. (I wish hed call me, too. 😔)

-so...jack being genuinely concerned about vlad...maddie really didn't tell him what happened at the cabin, did she. damn. if I was her id immediately come home and be like 'YOU WONT BELIEVE THIS SHITTTT THIS CREEPY GUY--' like, I feel like that stuff you need to tell your partner!!! I know she didnt want Jack to think she was an irresponsible parent putting danny in danger at that time, but STILLLL. maddie spilling boiling tea on him. get his ass. how is jack this oblivious to his wife's discomfort with vlad!! ughhh

-fenton wipe (tm). trademarked toilet paper.

-DANNY AND VALERIE BEING FRIENDS??? :D that was a cute moment. 'hey val <3' and 'if you like him like him, make a move, or someone else will ;)' at sam...damn!! I love her. valerie go for it girl!!! I hate how sam and tucker treat val also, like I GET IT YOURE PROTECTIVE AND DONT TRUST but if anything him befriending valerie will help when she finds out or he tells her like I feel like she'll be more understanding that they think! ALSO I feel like her reason for not liking ghosts is valid, like you haven't really explained the full story to her anyway! she doesn't seem to have any other friends after being booted from the a-listers so im like :( but seeing them kick butt together again was nice <3

-the ghosts all RUNNING FROM PARIAH DARK IS NOT GOOD, I thought he sent them to attack or something, but no. why doesn't someone just tell desiree 'hey i wish pariah dark would die' lol. once again I think she can solve every problem <3 but seeing all the enemies in one place, being civil and hiding together? love it.

-you just know danny's gonna have to clean up vlad's stupid mess. also, jack being willing to put on the ectoskeleton pants to help maddie, as soon as vlad heard it could kill him, he suggested jack do it instead of helping maddie himself? this is why jack got the girl, my man.

-ghost skeletons. how do you end up as a skeleton ghost in your afterlife instead of a humanoid like most the ones we've seen? lmao

-the ghosts just making new homes in various stores. I'd totally be setting up in an expensive clothing store if I was a ghost.

-valerie's dad is possibly the most useful adult so far, with that ghost shield expansion!!! and valerie saving vlad and danny, even tho shes been thru it already, shes still so good!!! this family rules.

-danny: *gently caresses valerie* :)

-*then he immediately TELLS HER DAD ON HER. and his first response is 'are you okay?' :'( such a good dad...

-*me every time fright knight breathes* youre doing SO great sweetie :)

-the fenton suit thing is so silly looking. does anyone take this thing seriously

-ALL THE GHOSTS FIGHTING WITH DANNY <3 AAAAA. and the fact that pariah isn't perma-defeated, but just locked away again. yikes. he'll probably get out again, won't he? it wasn't too clear, but if vlad DID make a pact with fright knight, I am rabid. I will beat vlad to death with the fenton bat (tm). YOU DONT DESERVE A COOL KNIGHT.

-valerie being direct with sam and challenging her? kinda love that, even tho I normally don't like 'catfight' type situations. because sam has been very passive aggressive about it which is annoying. valerie knows wtf she wants and wasn't even embarrassed to tell sam, but she did tell her, giving sam time to make her own move! and sam denied it and got embarrassed/mad! and sam did have a chance when danny was about to go off and fight, and she hesitated and didn't tell him. I feel like she's hesitating because they're friends and it might make it weird between the trio (poor tucker would be third-wheeling) but if u snooze u lose, u gotta GO after what u WANT girl. smh this is a No Tsundere Zone. 😤

[misterewrites]

Intro to Caitlyn 102 (Mirror’s Edge)

Hey everyone! E here with another chapter. been a busy week so this is a little late but with any luck I'll have the next underground chapter out this week or maybe another chapter for this story. dunno I'm just having fun in general. I hope you are all staying safe, wash your hands, wear your mask, get the vaccine if you can, keep each other safe! Feel free to tell your friends about this, reblog it or leave comments I'd greatly appreciate it. Trying promote myself is weird haha Stay safe and have a great week!

If you’d like an easier place to read the story, feel free to follow the link below

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/76796408

Summary: Caitlyn has her target thanks to one Finnrick Drift and now it's time to break in. After she takes care a few things at home.

-----

Caitlyn sighed as she was unable to keep her eyes off the slivered hue butterfly hair ornament in her palm, the multi-colored glass shards wings stretched wide like it was ready to take flight.

It was beautiful, it was the perfect and it was expensive.

The sliver was real, none of that cheap painted copper or tin or whatever hairclips were normally made of. The different shards of glass had been painstakingly put into place, each fitting together perfectly like a completed puzzle which must’ve taken months to do by hand. And true to his word, she could feel the energy of this item, the magical thrum of its power. It no longer felt cold and distant but warm, light and carried a familiarity with it. It was strange to say but it was almost like the ornament was breathing in time with her. Like it was a part of her.

Of course it was, it’s freaking magic! Frankly magic could do whatever the hell it wanted apparently. The real question was what hidden power laid within.

Somehow in the back of her mind she knew how this thing was supposed to work: it granted her some kind of temporary movement. What that meant she hadn’t the slightest clue. She also knew it would only last an hour and would ‘refresh’ at every dawn. Because that’s a thing. And she knew the spoken word needed to activate it. Which of course meant the word was angel.

Caitlyn frowned, unsure what kind of joke this was. Finnrick had specifically called her angel twice: once when they first met and when asked what exactly the hairclip did. Clearly it was some inside joke he was in on. She just wished she was too.

“Hey Cat, you okay? You keep looking at the wall.”

Caitlyn shook herself out of her stupor and found herself staring at wide brown curious eyes that belonged her baby brother Lou.

Louis or Lou as he preferred to be called, was 7 years old (soon to be 8 next month). He had messy black hair with a cute button nose. He wore clothing typical of a child his age: A red shirt with a hero splashed across its front and baggy shorts. His sneakers were worn and frayed which reminded Caitlyn she really needed to get him a new pair. Between his chubby cheeks and the gap in his smile he was the cutest kid in the world. True he was a bit pudgy due to his lack of height though if he was anything like their father, he would grow to tower over her.

Caitlyn sighed sadly: two years and still no word of her parents. One day they just up and vanished. She used to think they had died through some cruel act of fate or misfortune. In her weaker moments, she briefly wondered if they just left Lou and her behind to start a new life.

But now, with the realization there was a whole magical world on top of her own, she couldn’t fathom what could’ve happened to them. Her thoughts were endlessly filled with possibility and none of them good. None of them made the pain hurt less.

She pinched herself as hard as she could. The sharp pain cut through her wandering mind and focused her back on the task at hand.

“I’m fine” She gave a sly smile “But have you finished your sandwich? A nice man bought it for you and I don’t want it to go to waste.”

Lou bounced up and down excitedly, pudgy hands tucked into a fist “Yes, yes I did! It was yummy!”

“Awesome!”

“Who was the nice man?” Lou asked quizzically, tilting his head to one side.

“Umm….” Caitlyn was torn: One hand she wasn’t quite sure where her and Finnrick landed on the whole trustworthy scale. On the other hand she couldn’t just say a random name. Lou had an uncanny ability to know when she was lying. Bordering on supernatural sometimes.

She glanced carefully towards her baby brother, searching for any sign of magic or mysticism in his chubby cheeks.

He scrunched his eyes wide and inched closer to her. She blinked, stumbling backwards at his sudden movement.

“I win!” He cheered with a bright smile “You blinked first!”

It took a moment for Caitlyn to process what was going on.

She laughed softly “Yeah kiddo. You win.”

“So what’s the nice man’s name? It’s not Jonas, is it? He was a creep.”

“Yeah he was.” Caitlyn awkwardly agreed. Her stomach churned unhappily at the thought of her ex. “No, his name is Finn.”

“Finn” Lou paused thoughtfully, eyes narrowed in concentration “Fiiiiinn. Finn! I like it! Fiiiiiiiinn. Can you thank him for me next time you two go out?”

Caitlyn rose a hand up no protest “Whoa, whoa, whoa slow down kiddo. We’re not dating.”

“But why not? You said he was nice.”

“I…” she glanced about the apartment wearily: Peeling paint, barely held together furniture and rent past due. So much work and effort for this ramshackle home.

“I don’t have time kiddo. I got to keep working if we wanna keep this place.”

Lou frowned, his face confused as if he couldn’t understand the word work “But you’re always working Cat. When are you supposed to have fun?”

Caitlyn ruffled his already messy hair lovingly “I’ll worry about that and you worry about having fun...and keeping up your grades.”

Lou’s ears perked up “What? Sorry, I think I hear Hedge calling me.” and without further warning, he bolted into his room, picking up his beloved turtle plush Hedge and dove under the covers.

Caitlyn couldn’t help but grin at his brother’s antics.

Then reality set in again.

She rather not deal with this newly found, barely understood magical world but regular folks weren’t paying the bills like they used to. Her fence was giving her less and charging more. Some bulltshit about paying off crooked cops or whatever. Sounded like a half ass excuse to her but they both knew she didn’t have much options.

Real gold. Any loose change from magical folks could easily lighten her burden and the promise of more sat in some entitled prick’s safe.

She couldn’t resist even if she had tried and she hadn’t tried to stop herself in years.

-----

Caitlyn waited till midnight to make her move. It was easier to blend in with darker shades and regardless of who she was robbing, she wasn’t in the business to make enemies. Especially enemies with unknown powers.

Lou was tucked into bed, nice and cozy with Hedge locked in his arms. Mrs. Palmer, a kindly older woman next door, agreed to watch him. They shared a silent knowing look with one another.

Her apartment was on the less than well kept side of town and everyone had their hands in some sort of shady business here. They tried their best to keep their noses clean but sometimes there were dips into less savory methods of getting cash.

Caitlyn was prepped for the mission ahead: A black blouse with black leggings. Thick black hiking boots for gripping walls and a leather black jacket to keep the cold and sharp pointy objects away from her skin.

She took a sad glance at the jacket, remembering all the times her father joked about handing it down to her when she beat him at arm wrestling. She could still hear dad’s hearty laughter echoing down the hall.

Caitlyn’s eyes hardened as she forced herself to look away “They left. No point in letting good gear go to waste.”

She took a deep calming breath as she ripped the tape off the butterfly knife she hid underneath her bed. She hated unnecessary violence but sometimes it took more than a good right hook to get someone off your ass. Better to have it and not need it than wind up with a bruise of regret.

She slipped the knife into her jacket pocket, slung her bag over her shoulder, nodded thankfully towards Mrs. Palmer and made her way out the door.

------

Caitlyn decided to take the long way: True it was halfway across town and took an hour of traveling but she always enjoyed the quiet that came with waiting. It calmed her, allowed her time to double and triple check her plans with the added benefit of shaking out any loose thoughts rattling in her head with each bump of the bus.

She stared at the beautiful ornate butterfly clip currently holding her ponytail up in the window. Caitlyn wasn’t sure what exactly Finnrick had given her but she didn’t want to use it at the apartment in case it didn’t do what it was supposed to. After all, suddenly having the knowledge in her head on how to work the hairclip was a bit unsettling. Okay really unsettling. Better to use it far away from Lou in case it exploded or something else nasty.

She got off the bus at last and hurried her way over to Andor’s, careful to cover her face whenever she spotted the odd store or traffic camera. She didn’t know who actually controlled them and she didn’t want to find out the hard way.

Andor’s Antique Shoppe (really cute elf boy) was the tallest building on the street: three floors that towered over the single story shops nearby. The street itself was nearly pitch black with a street lamp on either end of the block being the only source of light. Not a soul in sight.

Now was a good time as any to try out the hairclip. Caitlyn closed her eyes, exhaling slowly as she focused on the magical item. Goosebumps ran down her spine while the quiet, powerful thrum hummed softly in her ears. The word escaped her lips like it was second nature.

“Angel”

She nearly stumbled as a warm sensation filled her entire being. It covered her like a second skin and suddenly she was aware of the hairclip intimately: It’s weight, where it sat upon her head. She could feel the wings of the butterfly unfold, outstretched and ready to take flight. She heard the shimmering of magic forming into existence and she let out a surprised gasp when her feet lifted off the ground.

Caitlyn glanced in the nearby shop window, tears welling in her eyes:Beautiful translucent butterfly wings extended out from behind her. The outline of the wings were a deep rich purple with the multicolored glass stained shards gorgeously laid across its surface, each as elegant and refined as any art piece she’d ever seen. Each flutter and beat held her aloft, defying gravity’s hold on her. In the shadows of the night, the soft glow of the wings made her look like...

“An angel.” she whispered gently “I look like an angel.”

Caitlyn wiped the tears away. Technically she was a butterfly but this wasn’t the time for sentiment. She had a job to do and the longer she floated out here the more likely she’d get caught.

“Up” she murmured and the wings obliged: she rose silently skyward, each beating of the wings taking her higher and higher. The chill of the wind felt nice across her cheeks and she couldn’t help but relax in its presence.

Her original plan was to simply scale the side of the building and pick the window to gain entry but with her new found vertical movement, it was easier to just go up and over. She made sure she ascended from the end of the street and flew over to the third floor.

Caitlyn tilted her head quizzically as she found herself staring at a haphazardly open window.

“It can’t be this simple.” she narrowed her eyes suspiciously “It has to be a trap.”

-----

Caitlyn stood dumbfounded in the unguarded office of Andor.

She looked to her left then to her right, waiting for some sort of ambush to be sprung.

None came.

“Okay it is this simple.” Caitlyn whispered to herself, opting to just take this stroke of good fortune and run with it. She quietly willed the wings away and with a glitter of magic they vanished into thin air.

She crept over to the black safe tucked lazily in the corner, a stack of important looking documents just thrown on top without a care in the world. She quickly pocketed them and turned her attention to the roadblock in her way. True to Finnrick’s information, the safe itself was fairly simple and wouldn’t take much to break into. Either Andor was extremely confident in his security or really didn’t take being a crook seriously.

Not that it mattered to Caitlyn. It wasn’t her fault Andor hadn’t invested in a good safe.

She pressed her ear against the cool surface of the metal, trying to ignore the icy chill on her cheek as she strained to listen for the nearly inaudible click of the tumblers falling into place. It had taken two tries too many but she allowed herself a smug grin as the safe’s door swung open with a creak.

Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed at the sight of a funny symbol painted onto the back of the door. It gleamed with a strange unnatural light before disappearing all together. Before she could began to guess what bad news that meant, the shouts and thundering footsteps echoed from below answered her question.

“Shit.” She whispered as she began frantically grabbing everything she could: Folders, stacks of papers and clanging metal in heavy pouches. It all went into her bag with as much speed as she could muster.

The footsteps grew louder with a frantic pace. They were already on the second floor if she hazard a guess. Caitlyn made for the window and without a second thought, flung herself outside with all her might.

“Angel!” She hurried muttered but the wings were forming too slowly. She already crossed past the next floor down when they barely began to outstretch from her back. Caitlyn was no physics major but even she knew there was no way she’d be able to slow down in time to avoid breaking her neck. She shielded her face with her arms and tried not to flinch as she waited for the pain to set in.

It didn’t come.

Instead she felt herself slow to a stop midair and just stayed here. Caitlyn opened her eyes to find herself bobbing up and down inches away from the pavement. There were a pair of legs as well: Black slacks and well polished loafers with the bottom half of a black tattered trench coat.

“Falling for me angel? I didn’t expect it to be literal.”

She glanced up to found herself staring at the one and only Finnrick Drift before her, a cheeky smile on his lips and his hand held out.

Finnrick waved his fingers over her and she landed onto the sidewalk with a soft thud.

He offered her his hand but she preferred to scamper to her feet in the most ungraceful way possible. Her cheeks burned with a pinkish hue at the sight of the P.I.

“Thanks.” She couldn’t keep the embarrassment out of her voice “I….thanks.”

Finnrick nodded “Anytime.”

“WHY IS THE DOOR LOCKED?!” A voice roared from overhead.

“CUZ IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE YOU IDIOT!”

Realization knocked Caitlyn out of whatever was going on here but as she turned to make a break for it, Finnrick rose his hand to stop her.

She glanced at him, lost and confused.

“The favor. I’m calling it in.”

“What?! Here?! NOW!? You got to be kidding!”

“I kid about a lot of things.” Finnrick admitted “but not this.”

“We’re standing outside the place I just robbed! This isn’t the time!”

“Yes it is.”

Caitlyn took a step back and cast a suspicious look at the private investigator “You were using me, weren’t you? You didn’t want to get your hands dirty so you let me borrow the wings so I can steal the thing for you!”

Finnrick shook his head.

“Don’t turn this around on me!” Caitlyn snarled

Finnrick answered simply “You were clearly better at locks and sneaking around than I am. I was actually having trouble figuring how to pull this off. Every option ended with a fight with Andor. That’s why I’m out here. Why I busted every cameras on the street and managed to keep the window open. To make sure you were okay.”

“Where even were you?!” Caitlyn tried in vain to recall seeing Finnrick on the street “it doesn’t matter! You want me to trust you?! Just like that?”

Finnrick sighed tiredly “Please angel I trust you.”

Caitlyn’s eyes went cold “That is your mistake, not mine.”

Finnrick stared back at her, his dark brown eyes warm and gentle “Trusting you is my choice. Breaking it lays entirely with you.”

Caitlyn felt the rage and distrust drain out of her and replaced with a tense exhaustion.

Angel. He had let her borrow the wings and while there was no way he’d let her keep them he did give it to her for a favor. A simple favor he promised.

She sighed in defeat “What’s the favor?”

“I need a paper from the stack.”

“And if I give it to you, will you let me go?” She asked, hating how weak and vulnerable she sounded.

“No” Finnrick spoke without hesitation.

Caitlyn's shoulders sagged with disappointment.

“I will protect you.”

Caitlyn couldn’t help but stare at Finnrick: His face was scrunched up in a rather cute sense of determination and his body was relaxed. It was clear he was trying to be as nonthreatening as possible and despite her recent outburst, he seemed more concern with her than himself.

When was the last time someone offered to protect her? Granted she didn’t need any but even Caitlyn had to admit it was nice to hear.

They stood there for a moment, the angry shouts and cursing of Andor and his thugs breaking the silence of the night.

“Which paper is it?”

“It’ll be a single sheet with some fancy silvery writing on it.”

It took her no time to find it: It was thicker than all the others, written on some ancient paper that was aged yellow with time but was otherwise intact. The shining silvery writing was indeed fancy but nearly impossible to make out. She could actually feel her eyes water just looking at it and she wasted no time shoving it into Finn’s hand.

“There!” Caitlyn cast a nervous glance towards the third floor window “I kept my end. Now keep yours. Please.”

Finnrick said nothing. He instead tucked the loose paper inside his coat and offered a hand to her.

Confused but running out of options, she gingerly took his hand in hers. She flushed at how warm he was. Caitlyn let out a yelp as Finnrick pulled her in. She tried to keep her cheeks from turning a lovely shade of red when Finnrick held her close.

Finnrick began chanting, his hands drawing unseen symbols in the air. Caitlyn could feel the same warm sensation from earlier wash over her as Finnrick’s spell took effect.

-----

“FIND MY STUFF NOW!” Andor screamed with bloody rage. He was typical of an elf: Impossible well kept blonde hair that flowed to his back, piercing forest green eyes. He was tall and lean with the tackiest suit anyone had seen. Reds and pinks in some sort plaid pattern. He called it looking good. His goons called it a headache. His pointed ears twitch unhappily as he struggled to listen for any sort of sound nearby but found nothing beyond the usual quiet hum of the city.

Andor groaned unhappily as he made his way to the window. His eyes scanned the street with a clarity not even the most technologically advance camera could match. His elf eyes took in every detail through the shadows: every imperfect scratch on the brick buildings, the asphalt embedded with the grooves of tires, cracked sidewalks that spread out like bolts of lightning.

Nothing. Not a single soul was in sight. The silhouetted street was bare and empty.

“FUCK!” Andor screamed into the silence “FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! FIND THEM NOW! CHECK THE FRONT DOOR CAMERA!”

“We can’t boss, it was fried yesterday, remember?”

Andor shut the window with a violent thud.

-----

Caitlyn let out the tense sigh she hadn’t realized she had been holding in.

She instinctively looked towards Finnrick only to find empty air.

“We’ll have to be invisible a little longer. They’ll be searching the shop before they think to start fanning outside. Andor will be making the process longer. Let’s get to the end of the street and I’ll drop it then.”

Caitlyn nodded for a moment before realizing he couldn’t see her

He guided her arm into his and the pair briskly walked down the street. It felt weird to walk invisible, arm in arm, while a childish elf baby raged behind them.

When they reached the end of the street, Finnrick dropped the spell. The two reappeared as quickly as they’d vanished. Caitlyn pulled away from the detective, her body shivering from the sudden lack of warmth.

“Thank you.” Caitlyn murmured softly.

Finnrick tipped his fedora “Any time sweetie.”

“What now?”

Finnrick scratched his chin thoughtfully “It is late and staying here would be a terrible idea. I suspect we both have places to be.”

Finnrick reached into his pocket and held out a piece of paper for Caitlyn to take. She stared at it, unsure what he was offering.

“It’s my fence.” He clarified with a smile “I take it you don’t know a magical one. He’s very trustworthy and he’ll give you a fair price.”

“Thanks” she took the slip of paper “I….thank you.”

“Any time. Good night angel.”

“Wait!” She reached for him but drew back when he turned to face her “Your hairclip? The one you let me borrow?”

Finnrick’s eyes twinkled with amusement “You didn’t hear me, did you? I told you that’s yours.”

Caitlyn could hear her heart thundering in her ears, cheeks ablaze “You sure? It seems like it costed a pretty penny.”

“Pretty amount of gold.” Finnrick corrected with a wink “And I’m pretty sure. I made it for you.”

“Why?” The question slipped out of her mouth “Why me? You barely know me.”

“Not true.” Finnrick nervously bit his lip “You barely know me. I’ve been waiting for you forever now. About five yearsin fact.”

“Me?” Her blush worsened “I don’t understand.”

“You will.”

Finnrick took her hand in his once more and softly kissed it. Caitlyn could feel a flutter of butterflies fill her stomach.

He hesitated to break his hold on her but he did so respectfully. Caitlyn could see his cheeks tinged with a pinkish hue as he began walking away.

Caitlyn stood there and watched the detective vanish into the night.

-----

Okay, so she didn’t just stand there dumbfounded as Finnrick walked away. It was probably a terrible idea and definitely not normal Caitlyn behavior but she followed him.

It wasn’t too hard given her newfound verticality. She just waited a few minutes, noted the direction he was heading and flew over the rooftops. Finnrick didn’t seem to be aware he was being followed. He walked the darken streets of Newton Haven, gesturing to the odd person or mythical being cloak in the darkness. His pace was casual and unsuspecting.

Her concerns about running out of time were unfounded as about 30 minutes later, Finnrick ducked into a fairly decent apartment complex. It was better kept than hers but only by a fraction.

A dark apartment on the third floor was suddenly flooded with light as Finnrick Drift made his way inside. He hung his coat and fedora at a coat rack that stood by the door. The apartment was itself humble: he had a battered desk placed by the window, his tiny kitchen was on one side and the door to his bedroom on the other. There was a large file cabinet next to a battered, ancient fridge. Not the place of a well paid private investigator.

Finnrick sighed tiredly as he rolled up his sleeves. The way his body hunched over with the slow debilitate movements he made, it was obvious he must’ve been exhausted. But whatever he was up to must’ve been important because he began drawing on his lovely wooden floor.

Caitlyn couldn’t really guess what the detective was doing beyond the shape he was making: There was a large outer circle and a much smaller one within. An array of symbols were drawn between the two circles such as stars, a crescent moon, squiggles shaped like trees with a language she didn’t understand.

It didn’t take Finnrick long to finish. He stood at full height, wiping the sweat from his brow as he reached into his pocket and pulled a baggie. Carefully, he opened the bag and pulled out a sliver thread that seemed to shine even at this distance. He placed it within the smaller circle and outstretched a hand like he was grasping at something. His eyes, normally a warm dark brown, glowed with blue arcane power. Magical symbols formed before him and the building groaned and creaked like the mere presence of magic commanded it to speak. He lit a match, his lips moving more and more wildly yet no sound could be heard from within. Finnrick closed his hand into a fist and the symbols sunk into the circle. He flung the match onto the sliver thread and the entire glyph blazed with fire for moment. There was a flash of a brilliant light and the circle had vanished only to be replaced by some strange figure.

She was much taller than Finn, so tall in fact the top of her head nearly scraped the bottom of the next floor up. Her hair was wispy, thin threads of sliver that reached to the bottom of her feet. Her skin was pale like moonlight and two dark sunken pits formed her eyes. Her frame was lanky and unnatural like someone had pulled and stretch her into her current form. Her clothes were torn and ragged.

The figure tiled her head curiously at Finnrick who dug into his pocket and pulled out the yellowed paper Caitlyn had given him. The figure was dumbstruck as Finnrick handed it to her with a warm smile. He offered a match to the creature but she shook her head. She gingerly held the paper in her hand, staring at it like was about to vanish into thin air.

Then she ripped it. She tore at it with a fierce, terrifying frenzy. She ripped and ripped and ripped until impossibly small bits of paper rained across the apartment. Caitlyn leaned closer as previously unseen shackles formed upon the figure’s wrist and cracked wide open. They slipped off and vanished into the air.

The figure let out a manic laugh as she shrunk, her limbs realigning themselves until she looked like a proper human sized person only a head taller than Finnrick. Her thin wispy hair fattened to thick, full braids of metallic silver. Her skin remained pale but her dark sunken eyes turned a coal black, full of life and joy. Even her clothes had transformed into a splendid elegant dress that sparkled like stars.

She cried, clear streams of water running down her face as she held Finnrick’s hands tightly. She wailed and shook, unable to keep her emotions in any longer. Finnrick let her, giving only a satisfied grin in response. She handed him a handful of gold, 3 maybe 4 pieces and began patting her dress as if looking for more. Finnrick stopped her, pocketing the gold and shaking his head no. The creature was not satisfied by this and began to gesture wildly about. Finnrick remained steadfast. He gestured to himself, lips speaking but Caitlyn couldn’t read whathe was mouthing this far away. The figure said nothing as a small child matching her skin tone appeared from out of nowhere. The child gestured to his wrist excitedly though nothing was there. The figure scooped the child in her arm and gently kissed his forehead. She glanced to Finnrick and was gone. A gentle warm breeze sailed past Caitlyn’s hidden spot, dispelling the frigid 2 a.m. air.

Finnrick chuckled to himself and despite on the verge of collapsing, made his way to the kitchen. He remained there for a few minutes and reemerged with a steaming cup of those instant noodles found at the store. He made his way over to the window and lifted it open. He placed the foam cup on the fire escape and hastily wrote a note which he folded carefully next to the food.

And with his job seemingly done, he made turned off the lights with a flourish of his hand and made his way to his bedroom. He closed the door and did not reappear.

Caitlyn flew over with the few minutes she had left in her wings. She picked up the cup of ramen, contently sighing with its warmth. She grabbed the note and read it aloud, curious what Finnrick wrote.

Caitlyn felt a chill of run down her spine as she read “Hey! Noticed you watching me and given you didn’t try to attack me, I assumed you had your reasons. If you’re trying to track me for your boss, here’s your warning! I will destroy everything they hold dear. You possibly included. If you just were a person or fae that was just curious, have a warm meal on me! It’s cold out so bundle up. Have a good one and don’t touch the window. I am a powerful warder.” F- :)

Caitlyn couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across her lips as she saw the cute smiley Finnrick had ended the note with.

She held the cup close as she made her way to street level. Finnrick told her she’d understand in time. She wished she understood now but she shocked to find herself more than willing to find out.

[sweetest-honeybee]

“Wow, Logic really threw you out the window, Roman!”

Fic inspired by @5am-the-foxing-hour ‘s post about Roman attempting to fight with each of the other Sides :)

TW: Fighting obvs and a bit of blood mention (Logan bouta kick Roman’s ass) and Remus and Deceit are in this so read at your own risk if you’re not one for kinda violent themes and brief mentions of bugs. This is kinda angsty but it ends with a logicality hug :)

Characters: All the sides are at least mentioned in some way (But Logan and Roman are mains)

Summary: After fighting with Patton, Roman decides to try to fight Logan. Logan takes up his offer and despite early failures and probably some broken ribs, the teacher gives the cocky prince what he deserves.....one hell of a violent tantrum and a broken nose.

Enjoy!

————————————

“Patton you can’t just hug people mid battle! It’s distracting!”

“Oh...but isn’t that kinda of the point? Don’t I win?”

With the fourth round ending, Roman simply sighed through his nose. Patton looked up at him with an oddly curious gaze but it was the puppy eyes nonetheless. Roman couldn’t tell him he had basically lost for the past four rounds by hugging Roman while his fists were visible.

He could admit that Patton’s little tactic would be a bit useful in some kind of hand-to-hand combat. He had a hug strong enough to pin your arms to your chest and keep you form moving despite his small size. Roman wondered for a second of the father figure kept a layer of muscle under the chubbiness of his cookie-filled body.

“Yes, Patton, you win,” Roman decided. Patton’s eyes lit up and a grin spread across his face. He clapped happily and cheered for himself.

“Yay!”

Roman ruffled his hair and brough them both back to the living room where Logan resided.

“Logan, I won!”

“You did? Oh- I mean of course you did. Roman isn’t one for tactics anyway, I’m not very surprised.” Roman eyed Logan with a glare.

“Well actually, Logan-“

“Yeesh, why were you fighting Patton?”

Everyone’s attention was brought to the grumbly voice on the stairs. Turning to it, Virgil sat slouched on last step. “I mean, it’s no surprise to me either that he won. Roman’s an idiot.”

“Hey!”

Virgil shrugged, Patton took off for a celebratory cookie, Logan simply continued drafting the schedule he was working on.

“Well if you’re so high and mighty, I propose that we fight as well. What could you possibly be good at?”

Virgil chuckled. “I’m fight or flight. Besides, don’t forget that I lived with your brother for years.”

Roman’s eyes widened. Either Virgil would be smart since Deceit also had his own ways with combat or Virgil could murder him in a heartbeat because of Remus. The Duke had no sign of any kind of thought process in a fight since he’d usually ran at Roman screaming at the top of his lungs and swinging his morning star frantically at the Prince’s face.

And besides, Roman already fought Deceit both for practice and other personal reasons. Virgil was practically Deceit’s spitting image from time to time. A fight with Virgil would only end in inevitable predictability much to what he couldn’t decide if it was his advantage or dismay.

Roman huffed. “Right, I’ll....pass thank you. Besides, you have your creepy magical spider legs, so you’d probably use it to your unfair advantage anyways.”

Virgil scoffed and smirked. “Sure.” The trait pulled out his phone and began scrolling.

Roman pouted at the new lack of attention and looked around the room briefly. His eyes landed on a Logan who sat, still scribbling in notes on each date. He didn’t need to even look up to know that Roman was staring right at him with a sudden grin on his face. An obvious idea came to the Teacher’s mind.

“I’m not going to fight you, Roman.”

Roman gasped in mock offense, groaned, and flailed his arms like a toddler. “Why not?! It’d not like it would be a slow fight, I’d kick your ass within the first ten seconds!”

Logan raised a single brow and glanced at the Prince. “Right,” he replied sarcastically. He continued to write in more and more dates onto the calendar.

The Prince then had another idea. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“No.”

“You wanna bet?”

“No.”

“Bet you can’t even hold a sword correctly.”

Virgil and Patton both chuckled at Roman’s attempts. But even they knew where this was going to go. And they knew that Logan couldn’t stand to be incorrect. He always had to go and prove himself.

Logan sighed through his nose. “I can hold one correctly, actually.”

“Right right, suuurree, but you’d still lose anyways. You’re a teacher! What kind of teacher knows how to fight! You’d be too weak for me to feel a punch.”

“Roman, I’m not fighting. Also there’s plenty of teachers who know how to fight.”

“I dunno Logan. If you don’t do it, Roman will ultimately be correct and you will not. Besides, how cool would it be to see you kick his ass,” added Virgil.

“Yeah what Virgil said minus the profanity!” also added Patton

Logan thought for a second and groaned loudly. “Fine,” he decided. “We will fight under one condition.”

Roman grinned and became giddy. “Anything.”

“I win and I get your entire sector of control for a week.”

“Psh, alright its a deal. Okay so, we’re gonna do hand to hand like I did with Patton. All fighting styles are permitted but I will go with my own tactics.”

“Hand to hand won’t include pulling a dagger out of your pocket.”

“I....will use my other tactics but considering your height, weight, and general lack of a drive to do more than read books, I might just go easy on you.”

“Sure.”

“But uh...you might want to change into something more comfortable.” Logan rolled his eyes and the two, along with Patton and Virgil as their audience, sunk down and reappeared in the Imagination. Around them was a large open warehouse with several mats covering the floor. Weapons of all kinds lined the walls.

“Watch out, DeeDee!”

......Conveniently, both Remus and Janus were there, too.

“Yeesh, when were you into being here, Jan? Thought sweat and blood wasn’t classy enough for your taste,” asked Virgil.

“Hardy har har,” Janus replied in a monotone voice. He ducked from another ninja star just a rely missing his hair. “Remus didn’t want some practice.”

“Mhm, sure. Logan is gonna kick Roman’s ass in a fight.” Remus and Janus stopped their activities to listen with a sudden curiosity.

“Oh?” Janus glanced at Roman and Logan with a raised brow. “Is that so.” He practically scanned the teacher up and down. “I totally couldn’t see that happening.”

Roman scoffed. “Wow, okay, and how would you know that?”

“I have my ways. But at least he reads up on it. Being ‘Light’ Creativity doesn’t take away the fact that you’re all brawn and no brain, sweetie.”

“Uh hellooooo, I don’t need a brain to fight. As long as I’m stronger than him, I’ll beat him.”

“Tell that to the girls taking defense classes to beat up rapists...” Remus muttered. “Anyways! I wanna see this. I always beat Roman in a fight too and I’m shorter than he is. My money is on Teach.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “Sure, anyone else wanna place their bets while we’re all here shitting on my fighting skills?”

“Logan.”

“Logan~”

“Logan!”

“Certainly Roman.”

“I’m certain I will probably win.”

Roman just stared at the teacher. “You can’t place a bet on yourself, also HEY! I want some support too!”

“Room for one more?” The group turned and stared at the familiar voice. There stood Thomas.

“What? Why are you here?” asked Roman. “I mean, feel free to stay but don’t you have things to do?”

“I just told them I wasn’t feeling good so I went and took a nap.”

Janus chuckled. “Wow, a lie? I’m surprised.”

Thomas glared at the liar but continued. “All I keep thinking about all day is fighting people so I wanted to see what was up with all of you.”

“Roman fought Patton and decided he was gonna try to deck Logan. But Logan is gonna kick his ass!” Remus explained enthusiastically.

“Awe, hush now, Remus, Roman is clearly confident in himself,” replied Janus sarcastically.

“And I will! You guys will see!”

Thomas snorted and shook his head. “Don’t worry, Roman, I’m rooting for you. No offense to Logan.”

“None taken.”

“Alright, is anyone else joining us before we start?” The group shook their heads in unison. “Good.”

With the snap of his fingers, the pair were clothed in T-shirts and basketball shorts along with Logan’s glasses now replaced with contacts. Behind them along the wall appear a small set of bleachers for their audience to watch from. Roman and Logan walked towards the center of the taped down circle in the mat’s center and the rest of them waited patiently.

After a bit, the fighting pair crouched slightly and prepared to fight with Thomas’s cue being their start. With the sound of the Host’s voice, Roman and Logan ran towards each other.

.....And within three seconds, Roman had the teacher pinned to the floor with the wind knocked out of him and a bunch of faces full of concern from their crowd. A classic tackle on the first round, but Roman proved his size advantage.

“Ow....”

“Point for me! Prepare for round two, Lo.”

Slowly, Logan pulled himself from the floor. The two crouched once more and waited for Thomas’s signal.

“I think I already taste blood.”

“All part of fighting!”

“Go!”

The fight was a bit longer this time. It took at least twenty seconds for Roman to, once more, get Logan to the floor. And once again, using his size. At first Logan tried to punch him in the throat, a common tactic. But inevitably, Roman blocked the hit, grabbed his arms, and in one spin threw the teacher with brute force out of the taped circle and off of the mat onto the concrete.

“Oh...that really looked like it hurt...” hissed Patton.

Logan only groaned in response and writhed on the floor. “Ngh....I need a break, Roman...”

“No breaks in a fight, Lo-“

“Oh please, let the kid get some water,“ Virgil interrupted. “You threw him onto concrete, and at this rate, he won’t be breathing by round four.”

Logan sat up. “There will be a round four....?”

Roman smirked devilishly, and nodded almost too happily at Logan’s question that Remus found himself a little surprised at Roman’s minimal sadism. Patton moved to get the teacher water and the rest of them started contemplating whether or not they really believed that Logan would win in a fight against Roman. The Prince strutted over to the group with the grin still on his face.

“Told you I’d win!”

“Can’t believe I of all people am saying this but go easy on him, Ro,” Remus said. “You’re going to kill him and that’s kinda my job, dude. You kill monsters, not teachers.”

“Yeah, I’m with Remus on this one I’ll admit. I didn’t think you’d go so hard on him...” added Thomas.

Roman huffed. “He should’ve expected it.”

“Yeah, but he’s not a paper plane, hun, we don’t throw people,” replied Janus. “We’re trying to avoid concussions and paperwork.”

“But you’re not....nevermind. What Janus said. At least let him live,” muttered Virgil.

“Sure sure, but I’m not giving him my sector for a week so he’ll have to try harder.” The three grimaced at Roman’s naivety and sudden arrogance but let it go on nonetheless; Logan was resilient after all. While Roman could certainly even stab him in the throat, the object impermanence would only land Logan with nothing more than the faintest scar.

“I’m ready.” The boys perked up at Logan’s admittedly spotless body. Where once bruises were forming on his cheeks and elbows were just minor red marks. “Shall we start?”

“Cocky, are we?”

“Hehe....cock-y...”

Roman rolled his eyes at his brother and lead Logan to the mat once more. This time, Logan seemed more concentrated, yet a bit irritated, for lack of a better word. For good reason, Roman was sure. They crouched and Thomas cued their fight again.

Round three ended with a strong kick to Logan’s ribs.

Round four ended with three of Logan’s lost teeth.

Round five called another break for Logan’s now broken finger. The prince only grinned at his violent accomplishment and this time, Janus smacked him over the head to tell him that he’s an idiot.

“Keep this up and I’ll fight you myself, you hear me? Break another bone on his body and so help me, I will strangle you to death and that is not an exaggeration.”

“Sure, Jan.” Janus glared intensely at Roman after his basic comeback. A reference, of course.

”Oh he’s not exaggerating, he did it to me once because I put a sacks worth of centipedes and maggots in his bed once.” Roman snorted at Remus’s addition but gulped thickly.

“Logan- Logan, wait, I haven’t wrapped your finger yet-!”

The three turned their attention to a very angry looking, quite possibly furious, Logan stalking towards them. Patton and Virgil trailed behind quickly with worried expressions. Thomas simply watched and made direct eye contact with Roman. He mouthed a few words and sunk out to the real world.

You’re done for.

Romans eyes widened as the teacher took his shirt by the collar and dragged him to the circle.

“Logan- Logan, wait, let’s talk about this-“

“Fight. Now.”

Ready for a cue, Logan crouched and this time...he may kill Roman. Even Remus recognized that murderous glare emitting from Logan’s eyes and he smiled. Grinned, even. He knew what was coming for Roman and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

“Logan, go easy on him, bud. I know you’re probably mad-“

“Just make the call, Patton. I know what I’m doing, now.” Patton gulped.

“Alright, if you say so,” the father figure flinched at the word that left his mouth. “Go!”

A few steps forward from Logan and Patton couldn’t bare to watch. He covered his eyes and turned away, hiding from the sudden screech escaping Roman’s lips and ducking into Janus’s back, startling the other.

It happened for about a minute, but everyone would swear that the sixteen punches and three kicks delivered to various areas of Roman’s body happened in a single second. By the end of it when Patton came out from behind the snake faced side, he could only gasp at the sight.

Admittedly, Remus chuckled both because of the pair’s current position but also that Roman was cupping his nose with scrunched eyes.

Logan straddled the prince’s waist and he held himself up with his arms on Roman’s chest. Blood seeped out of his lips and he hung his head low, panting with shallow breaths. Not a hit seemed to have been laid on him, besides his mouth. He lifted his head slightly and took a glance at Roman, still on the floor holding his nose. Quiet cries escaped the prince and Logan’s eyes widened.

“Oh dear god, I’m sorry Roman, I don’t- I don’t know what happened-“ the logical facet moved quickly off of Roman and the prince sucked in a well needed breath. He pulled Roman from the floor into a sitting position. “Are you alright?”

Roman took his hands away from his face. Logan, and the others who slowly walked closer to the pair, gasped. Blood practically poured in buckets from his nose and mouth. His eyes were puffy and red, his nose a bit crooked, and his face wet with painful tears.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?!” Doman winced at the shouting. “Roman, I broke your nose! I can heal from these things in seconds and you can’t, what on earth are you apologizing for?!”

“For being a dick, Logan! I don’t care how much you can heal from that kinda stuff, it’s kind of an asshole thing to to do beat the shit out of your friends for fun!” Roman huffed and pouted. “I was being rude to you and I hurt you.”

“Wow, and it took you a broken nose to realize that?” Remus scoffed. “Dumbass. Get up, I know a witch that can help.”

“No, I deserve it. I have to live with the injuries.” Remus rolled his eyes.

“Oh don’t be so fucking dramatic. That’s Janus’s job-“ Janus squinted at Remus “-Besides, not everyone is very comforted with you enduring weeks of nose repair and I’m not gonna listen to you whine every day so come on.” Remus took Roman by the sleeve and sunk out with him. Roman only spared a sympathetic frown at Logan before doing so.

“What even was that, Logan?” Logan winced at Virgil’s question.

“I don’t know, but I have to make up for it. Italian is romans favorite meals, I’m sure he’d like that.”

“Don’t avoid the question-“

“Look, Virgil, I don’t know what happened. I don’t hardly even recall half of it at the moment.”

“You were angry, weren’t you. Because he kept winning?” Logan looked up at a teary eyed Patton. “I know he was mean but he didn’t deserve that.”

“I know he didn’t. I don’t believe he did, not...ever, really. Just adrenaline I guess. And it wasn’t because he was winning. I couldn’t care less if he won, to be honest. But like I said, I need to make it up to him.” Logan stood from his crouched position. “It’ll be alright, I’m sure he’ll be fine, Patton.”

Patton sniffled and looked down to the floor. “Right...”

Logan cleared his throat. “Um, if it’s any consolation, his healing only takes two or three weeks.”

Patton still stared downwards. Virgil and Janus shared worried expressions.

Logan sighed. “I um- I may be the last person right now for you to want this from to feel free to say no but, while I’m not one for empathy and affection would....would you like a hug? I’ve read that hugs can increase dopamine levels.”

Patton snorted. Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around the logical side’s waist. Logan quite firmly hugged him back but at least it was some form of comfort.

Virgil and Janus both chuckled at the two but it was cute nonetheless. They both sunk out, leaving Logan and Patton alone.

“I promise, Patton, Roman will be perfectly fine. I’m not great with sympathy or empathy but I can ‘up his spirits’ by.....a Disney movie marathon I suppose.”

“And spaghetti.”

Logan chuckled. “And spaghetti, I’ll make a note of it.”

[maximumsnow]

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware, HLVRAI - Fandom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Gordon Freeman, Tommy Coolatta, Dr. Coomer (Half-Life), Bubby (Half-Life), Benrey (Half-Life)

Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical swearing, Basically an au exploring what if HLVRAI followed Half Life a little more closely, Au where there isn't a betrayal in that one spot, Mainly was wondering what would happen to the others if they hadn't been in on it., Some things change some don't, Oh also this is sort of intended as a not a game au Summary:Anyone who knows original Half-Life knows that the ambush happens in that spot no matter what. What would have happened if the ambush was as rough for the others? Chapter Summary: We meet up with some friendly and some not so friendly faces.

The locker room’s other entrance opened up to a break area for the lab workers on this side of the complex. Immediately to their left, there were vending machines, but before Gordon could fully lift his crowbar to the soda one, Tommy shook his head vehemently. “We-we can do that later.”

“Yeah, when we’re not in danger,” Bubby added on curtly and tried to push Gordon’s shoulder so that he would move.

Utterly shocked that Tommy turned down the opportunity for free soda, Gordon was stunned in place. He had only started the action with the assumption that Tommy and probably Bubby would want to continue things as usual, but hearing them both shoot down the idea threw that out the window.

It made something in his chest twist in concern.

When he could get his feet to move, he could see more of the break area. There was a section with more comfortable chairs parked in front of a TV that now only showed multi-colored bars that usually preceded a service announcement. There was also a shelf with books, but the chairs by that weren’t nearly as comfortable looking.

… He could almost hear Coomer going on his chair spiel. A part of him hoped that he would be able to actually hear it again.

The eating area looked like a tornado had spawned long enough just enough to throw the tables and chairs around before disappearing again. What was more concerning was that there was a pool of something dark as ink in the middle of the room that then turned into a large, smeared trail on the floor leading down the hallway to the offices.

“Well, that’s not terrifying,” Gordon said when they stopped at it. “Hey didn’t you- WAIT, DON’T TOUCH IT!” Bubby had knelt down to poke at the strange substance, but Gordon was quick to yank him away from it by the back of his labcoat.

“What was that for?” Bubby was clearly unhappy at being manhandled and grabbed at Gordon’s hand to make him let go.

With him out of danger, Gordon released his hold on Bubby. “We don’t know what that is! For all we know, it could be poison or something that will make your finger fall off!”

“Hey guys, isn’t there- Didn’t you say that there’s a big monster in here? Killing the military? Maybe this is its blood?” Tommy managed to cut off any further sniping by directing them back to the present problem. “Also, why haven’t we seen any dead soldiers?��

“I didn’t see it killing them. I just assumed it since they never came back.” Bubby readjusted his glasses as he continued looking at the blood-like substance. “… Looks like they did a number on it here, though.”

“It’s not green like the other aliens’ blood we’ve seen...” Whatever the hell it was, it wasn’t something they had dealt with before. While Gordon didn’t care if the soldiers survived or not, he hoped that they had taken care of the creature. It had to have been massive to leave that much blood here, and he was unsure if Tommy was good enough to take out something that big in a few shots.

Any further musing was interrupted by something moving out the corner of his eye, and his head shot up along with the others. Tommy was already pointing his gun down the hallway where Gordon could see something moving. The flickering lights made it difficult to make out exactly what it was, but he could tell it was humanoid and dragging something behind it.

It raised its free arm and waved. “Hello! It’s me! Your friend, Dr. Coomer!” The voice immediately put Gordon and the others at ease. Bubby no longer looked like he was going to bolt, and Tommy pointed his gun down.

As Coomer got closer, he could see that he was dragging a sledgehammer-like contraption straight out of Fallout. After a minute, he shifted his grip and then balanced the unwieldy weapon across his shoulders.

He was also completely ignoring the blood trail and walking in it.

Gordon tried to wave him down before he took another step. “Hey- uh, Hey. Coomer? Hey Coomer? You probably don’t want to walk in that.”

“I’ll be fine! A little alien blood never hurt anyone.” Coomer continued his casual stroll towards them, but he did get out of the trail. Once he was close enough, Gordon couldn’t help but look him over.

Dr. Coomer appeared perfectly fine. There weren’t any notable injuries, and while his clothes looked dirty, that wasn’t exactly new. The only new addition to his ensemble was the souped up sledgehammer.

“God, I’m so glad you’re okay,” Gordon couldn’t help but say as he patted him on the shoulder. “Was getting worried about you.”

“I’m in tip-top shape! Handling a couple of boot boys was no trouble for me.” He also didn’t seem too perturbed by The Incident. Which was fine, Gordon guessed; he wouldn’t say no to a little normalcy. At least the Science Team was mostly back together now.

“Any idea what made this shithole a bigger mess than usual?” Bubby impatiently asked.

“Oh, probably the fight between that alien monster and a group of soldiers, Professor.”

“Doctor.” Predictably, Bubby corrected Coomer and Gordon contained his groan as he prepared to get the topic back on track of Alien Monster Fighting the Soldiers.

Until Coomer said, “My apologies, Doctor.” Bubby’s eyebrows drew together, and his eyes narrowed when their usual bit didn’t continue, but Gordon sighed in relief. “Anyway, there were a lot of them running through and throwing explosives, so I decided to hide.”

“What did the monster look like?”

“I didn’t get a good look since I had to hide. Though, I think I saw colors that didn’t exist! All I can tell you was that it was bigger than a human, had claws, and it went that way.” Coomer emphasized his point by pointing towards the exit. Where the trail clearly lead. “Which is also the only way to go if you want to find someone who can let us out of here.”

Gordon tangled a hand in his hair before smoothing it back. “Great, so we still don’t know what it is, and we have to go that way.”

“You got it!”

“… Thanks.” Gordon wasn’t frustrated with him, but it would have been nice to know what they might be walking into.

“Let’s get a move on, gentlemen.” Coomer wasted no time in leading them down the hallway; taking the lead from Tommy as if that was the most natural thing in the world. Gordon nearly called Coomer back to fix the marching order, but then he noticed that Tommy’s hold on his gun had loosened considerably.

Maybe giving Tommy a break would be a good thing.

The floor sloped upwards, and while the angle wasn’t steep, the inky fluid that had smeared itself everywhere made the trip more perilous than it should have been. Even if the possible alien blood was harmless, it still made the floor sticky, and Tommy had had to offer a steadying arm more than once to the two injured parties.

Coomer kept his lead and didn’t look back.

He did, however, stop when the hall took a sharp turn, and he held up a hand for them to stop once they finally caught up with him.

Bubby opened his mouth to snap a question when an unknown voice shouted, “What the actual fuck!?” The heavily filtered voice made everyone freeze in place with bated breath. “What did they find down here?”

A different voice answered, “Dunno and don’t care. Smith says he took care of it, but to keep an eye out while we pick up the goods.”

As the conversation continued, they noticed that the voices were getting closer. Coomer hefted the sledgehammer as he readied a swing, and Gordon began nudging Bubby backwards. Thankfully, the stubborn man took the hint and ducked behind the human with literal body armor.

The casual reference to “goods” probably meant Bubby and Coomer, since it appeared that Tommy’s earlier guess about the military wanting any Black Mesa experiments they could get their hands on was correct. It pissed him off. Bubby and Coomer were people, and he didn’t doubt that the military planned on treating them as far less than that.

Maybe it was dumb of Gordon to insist on staying in front of him, but even if Bubby was more durable than most humans, Gordon didn’t want him getting more hurt than he already was.

The pair of soldiers that rounded the corner never stood a chance. One precise shot from Tommy, and the one without a gas mask was down, and the other one’s head was caved in and flattened with one swing from Coomer’s weapon.

Ignoring the blood that had splattered onto him, Coomer quickly knelt down to grab at the assault rifle, but tumbled backwards when shouting echoed through the hallway. “There they are! Get them!” The sound of heavy boots running towards them was unmistakable.

As was the sight of a grenade landing right in front of them.

“SHIT, GOTTA MOVE!” Gordon had already started backing up before turning around and bolting down the hallway while pushing Bubby ahead of him. They made it back to the first turn when the explosion went off. Thankfully, they were far enough away to avoid the worst of it, but Gordon could still feel some shrapnel bouncing off the HEV suit even at that distance.

A quick head count told him that Bubby and Coomer had followed, and while Coomer’s presence was a little surprising, the immediate problem was that Tommy was nowhere to be seen.

“TOMMY!?” There wasn’t a white coat on the floor with the now decimated soldier corpses, but that didn’t mean he was safe. In fact, given the fact that Gordon could hear bullets being exchanged, it meant that Tommy was in even more danger. He wasted no time in trying to charge back up the hallway, even as his legs protested all the extra movement. “He must’ve gone ahead!”

Coomer was quick to outpace him even while carrying the sledgehammer. “HYAAH!” The shout was loud enough to make Gordon’s ears ache, and he couldn’t help but slow down as the stout scientist sprinted past.

Bubby wasn’t far behind, but he stopped to pick up the now ownerless assault rifle. The confident smirk was back on his face. “Let’s give them hell!” He shouted before hobbling up as quickly as he could.

Gordon kept up with Bubby and entered what he vaguely recognized as a lobby with skylights. He didn’t get much time to look at much else before a bullet ricocheted way too close to him. Bubby was already shooting back, and he could see Tommy ducked down behind a barrier reloading. Coomer’s zealous sprint had taken him to the far side of the lobby already, and given the blood splatter on the walls nearby and on Coomer himself, he had already taken someone out.

No one else saw the camouflaged figure stalking its way behind Tommy’s position.

Gordon charged towards him as he yelled, “Tommy, watch out!” He could see Tommy’s head jerk up and around, but the soldier had already leveled his shotgun to take a shot in point blank range.

Without much thought, Gordon did the only thing he knew he could do. His momentum carried him straight into Tommy, knocking them both over and onto the ground. He could feel the bullets whiz by overhead, and one pinged off the back of the HEV suit.

He heard the soldier suddenly start choking, and when he could make himself focus again, he could see that Tommy somehow managed to keep his grip on his gun and shot the soldier in the throat from his position on the floor.

The soldier collapsed in a miserable pile, leaving his shotgun up for grabs. Gordon scrambled off of Tommy to grab it before thinking to ask, “You okay? And uh, do you want this?”

Tommy’s breathing hadn’t slowed down yet, but he gave a shaky smile. “I’m f-fine. Thanks, Mr. Freeman. And uh, you should take that for now.” With that line, he stood back up and fired a round at the soldier that he had been playing sniper war with.

He just won, judging by the lack of a responding bullet.

Gordon checked the shotgun’s ammo as he kept an eye on the others, and once he was satisfied with it, he slowly got himself up. He knew his body was going to hate him in the morning, but he had to make sure they all got to see that morning.

Bubby had taken cover behind the reception desk while exchanging shots with a pair of soldiers hiding behind some metal crates, and after checking for danger, Gordon ran towards him with Tommy following.

With all three of them ducked behind the desk, Bubby snarled, “They keep hiding before I can blow their brains out!”

“Got any explosives? Maybe we can flush them out?” Gordon suggested as he tried to peek over the desk. A gunshot made him fall back down quickly while clenching the shotgun.

“I’ve- I’ve got a grenade.” Tommy offered before pulling out the referenced weapon.

Bubby reached over Gordon to snatch it out of Tommy’s hand. “Yes, that will work. But I need someone to distract them before I can throw it.”

Again, with barely a thought, Gordon acted on impulse and threw the shotgun he had just acquired into the middle of the room. The thunk and clatter of the tossed firearm drew the attention of the soldiers for just long enough for Bubby to stand up and toss the grenade right behind the boxes they had hidden behind.

The explosion was preceded by a couple of muffled swears, but once the dust settled, silence fell over the lobby. Behind the desk, the three Science Team members kept quiet as they all listened for the heavy footsteps that they had all come to associate with the US military.

After minute that felt like hours, Tommy slowly stood up and scanned the room. Once he deemed it safe, he gestured for the others to stand, and Gordon was able to finally get a good look at what remained of the lobby.

The room had been taken over as a military outpost, but this one was wrecked even more than usual after one of their fights. There were a lot more bodies that Gordon knew they had put there, and it looked like several of them were missing pieces. There was also the matter of the dark blood splattering random parts of the floor and walls from the creature getting shot and blown up.

What the fuck? How was it still moving? And how did that one guy ‘handle it???’ He could see that the trail lead down the open hallway, and he had to assume that it had chased its prey in that direction.

“Where’s Dr. Coomer?” Tommy’s question was a much more immediate concern, and Gordon quickly looked around as his heart rate picked back up.

“Last I saw, he took out someone by the exit over there,” He finally said. “Shit, did he go ahead?”

“Probably. Pretty sure I saw a soldier take off that way.” Bubby had made his way over to the shotgun that Gordon had carelessly thrown. “Since you tossed it at the first opportunity, I’m guessing you don’t want it.”

“I didn’t-” He caught himself and sighed. “You know what? Fine, you can have it.” Clearly his head was not on straight if his first instinct was to throw the gun and not the crowbar. Bubby seemed pleased to rebuild his arsenal, anyway, so Gordon let the matter go.

“How about I go get Coomer while you guys stock up?” He wasn’t too worried about Coomer, but he didn’t want the guy to get too far ahead. And since he didn’t doubt Coomer’s efficiency, it was very unlikely that there were any survivors.

He also didn’t want to waste the opportunity for them to restock their supplies, and between all the supply crates and dead soldiers, they could easily get back up to their pre-ambush levels.

Tommy’s eyebrows drew together in concern. “Are you- Are you sure, Mr. Freeman?”

“Yeah, I should be fine. You and Bubby just pick everything clean, and we can distribute it once I get back.” The nonchalant wave he did was definitely forced, but they didn’t need to worry. “We heard them say that they ‘took care of the problem’, so whatever was making such a mess is gone, too.” With his crowbar in hand, he crossed the remainder of the lobby and entered the next hallway.

“Don’t stay gone too long!” Bubby’s shout followed him.

As he rounded the first corner, he was met with yet another dead soldier, and he elected to not inspect the blunt force damage too closely. The adrenaline was wearing off, and he could feel the aches in his muscles protesting again along with his head. No point in tempting fate and making himself sick in the process.

The path split, but since one direction was blocked off by automatic doors that were refusing to open, he was forced to follow the path the strange creature took. Or that’s what he would guess based on the continued splotches of blood that continued to pop up.

Even if the thing was dead, what was left behind sure made him feel like he was walking into a horror movie.

There were stairs going upwards in the side hallway, and soon he realized that he was standing on the balcony overseeing the lobby. Bubby and Tommy were currently dumping everything they found behind the desk, but didn’t seem to notice his presence above them. Just the sight of his friends helped ground him and quieted his anxieties that threatened to overtake him.

But he didn’t want to disturb them with his illogical worries right now, so he continued his trek.

The next hallway quickly rounded another corner and lead into another set of automatic doors. Through the window, he could see Coomer’s familiar head of white hair, and didn’t think twice about marching forward.

As the doors opened, Gordon raised a hand to wave and said, “Hey, Dr. Coomer-” He stopped as he took in the sight.

Coomer had his sledgehammer swung back like he was about to play a strength game at a carnival as he apparently aimed at something on the specimen table.

That something was the spitting image of Coomer with cloth tightly bound over his mouth, and he was lacking arms and legs.

[monkwrites]

For fairness, here’s the beginning of the BokuAka story. Whether or not I can get past chapter one will probably be the deciding factor lol

To think it all started with one oversized little brat, coming in out of nowhere like a tsunami, shoving himself into everyone's life as though he belonged there. Hate is a strong word; there's a lot that Akaashi Keiji dislikes, like a whole fucking lot, but he prefers to think he's a somewhat reasonable man. Still, of all the things that bother him, that shake him to his core and send him teetering on the edge of murder, Haiba Lev is one of the few things he can say he absolutely hates without a shadow of a doubt.

It's not the kid's fault, and he knows that. But still, holy shit. If he thought he could get away with it, he'd have strangled him months ago. What it would feel like to have his hands firmly around that pretty little neck of his…

No, it's not Lev's fault, and he tries to remind himself of that, but it's hard. It's so fucking hard, and the wine doesn't help. A whole bottle all to himself, who the hell let this happen?

The more he drinks, the more he realizes it really isn't Lev’s fault. Not all his fault, at least. That selfish bastard Yaku Morisuke is at fault, too, and the longer the night drones on, the more he thinks about it. He thinks about his past with Yaku, the time they spent together, the love he felt for him...and how that piece of shit just couldn’t love him back. Sure, it was a no strings attached thing, and yeah, maybe that was his idea in the first place, but still. But still.

Fuck, it hurt. It hurt so fucking bad, and he was the only one to feel it.

Just. How fucking dare Yaku do...do...this.

Fuck him.

Fuck, why isn’t he over him yet? He thought his time in Paris would ease the pain, that he could have the love fucked out of him by every hot guy he could get his hands on. Turns out magic dicks don’t exist and sex doesn’t heal deep wounds. And he should know because he slept with a lot of guys in Paris. He came back home to Japan and his feelings were still there, along with the addition of one tall, childish, Russian piece of shit─that fucking bastard Lev.

He takes another swig of wine and watches Yaku disappear from Oikawa’s flat. Bokuto is saying something, but Akaashi can’t be bothered to pay attention. He’s too drunk and jealous. Bokuto doesn’t know to take the wine away, and he likes it like this. He’ll drink and everyone else will be too drunk to stop him, and Bokuto will be too ignorant to do anything about it.

He watches Lev disappear through the elevator as well, most likely to rendezvous with Yaku somewhere. He’s not stupid, he’s fully aware those two will finally hook up tonight. It’s New Years and they’ve been hanging off of each other for months. Of course it’s finally happening. It’s happening and Akaashi feels...well, it’s like everything is folding in on him and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. All he can do is drink and observe and be bitter and jealous because that’s all he’s fucking good for.

It’s all he’s ever been good for. Maybe that’s why Yaku never loved him?

Fuck.

The lights are dimmed in the living room as it’s just minutes from midnight. Everyone in the flat drunk-whispers in anticipation.

And everything is spinning. Everyone shouts a countdown, fireworks explode across the cityscape just outside, everyone kisses someone, everyone else is screaming about it, and then he’s at the kitchen island with Oikawa and Kuroo. They talk, he listens, but just barely. His head hurts and he doesn’t remember getting this drunk, but he is. Nobody’s taken his wine away, at least. At this point, he’d probably fight them if they tried.

Man, he really hopes he doesn’t end up vomiting on anyone tonight. That'd probably be a little more embarrassment than he's willing to deal with. 

Suddenly, Oikawa is calling someone over. Oh, he’s calling over Yaku, who has a Lev shaped tumor attached to him. Isn’t that nice.

Oikawa teases them about fucking on the roof, or making out, or whatever the fuck they actually did up there. It doesn’t matter at this point, Akaashi was right. They’ve made it official, but knowing what was going to happen does nothing to dull the sting he feels in his heart.

You knew this was coming, Keiji. You’ve known for months, there’s no reason to feel like this, you idiot, you absolute idiot.

And then, he hears Lev say, “I'd like everyone to know, though. You're mine now,” and it’s all fucking over from there. The glass shatters in his hand─when did he grab a glass?─and everyone is looking at him, but he doesn’t fucking care. Fuck all of them, all he can see is red and the shock on Lev’s stupid, handsome face, and FUCK does he HATE this kid.

He isn’t even looking at him, but it’s still all he can see in his mind as his eyes stare at nothing dead ahead of him.

“Holy shit,” Kuroo says. “Are you okay, Akaashi?”

He reaches for Akaashi’s bleeding hand, but Akaashi pushes him away. He tries again, and this time Akaashi punches him in the chest with all the strength of a heartbroken twink...it’s also with his left hand, which is probably the only reason why Kuroo doesn’t die instantly by the force of his rage. Kuroo leans back, raising his hands in defeat.

Yes, leave me the fuck alone, asshole.

Oikawa looks like he’s about to stand up. “Kei-chan…”

“Don’t,” Akaashi warns him.

“What the fuck, Akaashi?” Iwaizumi steps forward, but he stops when Akaashi points at him with his good hand.

“Don’t,” he warns again. He realizes his hand is shaking. Fuck, his whole body is shaking and he feels like he’s on fire, from the alcohol or the burning rage, he can’t be sure. Who fucking cares at this point? He feels red hot from his cheeks all the way to the bottom of the soul he’s sure plenty of people don’t believe he has. But of course he does, and it’s in just as much pain as the rest of him.

Then Yaku speaks, and Akaashi wants to cry. “Keiji, what’s wrong?”

You, us, this, he thinks. If only he hadn’t left Japan, maybe he could have done something, anything, to make Yaku love him. There had to have been something, he just missed it, he fucking missed it because the only thing he knows how to do is run away from his problems. He fucked up and there’s no going back and it just...everything hurts so, so bad.

Yaku makes to step around the island, and Akaashi’s body moves on its own; he’s on his feet in an instant, so quick it must startle Yaku, because he stops before he gets any closer.

Before he knows it, he's screaming at the man, laying every insecurity he’s ever had out for everyone to see, letting all of their friends know just how pathetic and weak he actually is behind his stoic exterior. He screams at Yaku, then he screams at Lev, and it feels like it’ll never end, like he could go forever on a drunken rampage until he’s ruined every single thing he’s ever cared about in this world. That's not a lot, so it’s perfectly feasible. And maybe he should burn everything down right here and right now so that he can fuck back off to Paris and pretend like his life in Tokyo never existed. He likes to think it would be easier. God, something has to be easier than all of this shit.

He thinks he might throw up. If he does, he hopes it hits Lev.

Fuck, when did he start crying? His tears are just as hot as the rest of him, so hot they have to be leaving blisters where they fall down his cheeks. He’s bracing himself on the counter, he can’t even stand up anymore, and then Kuroo is there, and he thinks he’s screaming at him, too. It’s hard to tell what’s happening, and it feels like all he can do is scream. And then there’s Bokuto putting himself between him and Lev. For some reason, it just makes him angrier. Akaashi lashes out at him, too, because at this point, why the fuck not? He screams and flails against him, hitting whatever he can of Bokuto’s stupid, rock-hard body. It hurts, but Bokuto takes it, so Akaashi keeps doing it. He gets blood on the man’s shirt, but he can’t be bothered to care. Fuck him for getting in the way, anyway. Fuck him, fuck them, fuck everyone, fuck everything.

When did Bokuto start talking to him? How can he be so quiet and calm at a time like this? Who the fuck does he think he is?

“Let’s get you out of here, Akaashi,” he says in that voice that’s too quiet and serious to belong to Bokoto, but it comes from his mouth all the same.

He’s not sure when or how, but a few of them manage to drag him to the sink to clean his wound while he does everything in his power to make it as difficult as possible, but he’s suddenly so tired and super lightheaded and they're just too shit-faced to properly appreciate his ferocity.

They manage to drag him into the elevator, and then he’s out in the freezing cold of the night. Standing is hard, so he relies heavily on Bokuto to keep him from eating shit on the pavement. Bokuto helps him get his coat on, not even stopping when Akaashi tries to fight that, too. When did Bokuto become so patient and caring?

He doesn't notice he’d stopped crying until tears are streaming down his face again.

“Fuck. Off,” he sobs. Despite popular demand, Bokuto does not fuck off.

“Nah, man. We need to get you home...or. I dunno.” He looks around. “Your place is kinda far from here, isn’t it? C’mon, you can crash at my place tonight. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“Just leave me to die in the streets, I don’t want to do...anything else right now, okay?”

“Nah, I can’t do that.” Bokuto puts one of his thick arms around Akaashi’s shoulder, gently edging him forward. He tries to fight him, but all the fight left him as soon as the bitter winter air hit his skin. So, he reluctantly lets Bokuto walk him. “You’ll be okay, you just gotta sober up and sleep it off.”

“I’d rather...drink myself to death than sober up and face any of this later,” he admits with a bitterness to rival the winter chill.

Bokuto continues to reassure him in that uncharacteristically calm, even tone. Akaashi assumes that’s what he was doing at least, because the rest of the night is a blur. He remembers Bokuto carrying him up a few flights of stairs, stumbling into a door and tripping over something, and being caught by the elbow before he could knock his teeth out on the hardwood floor. He remembers falling into a mess of blankets and unfolded laundry, and having his shoes taken off for him. He doesn’t remember taking his jacket off, but it was gone at some point, and then Bokuto was there with water and pajama pants, and it was kind of nice until Akaashi couldn’t hold it in anymore. The last thing he remembers is instinctively leaning forward and throwing up an entire bottle of wine and his dinner right in Bokuto’s lap.

[xxforsaken-angelxx]

> Consult an expert

xxforsaken-angelxx uh knock knock?

centaurstechnician D—> Greetings xxforsaken-angelxx hi im eridan makara the grinmaww im fuckin doin shit i wwas told you knoww things about helm recovvery

centaurstechnician D—> I am called the Engineer D—> As it happens, I know quite a bit about the subject D—> As helm installation and maintenace was my primary focus for six sweeps D—> And the rehabilitation of uninstalled helms the last four

xxforsaken-angelxx ok cool so youre just a funky miracle man

centaurstechnician D—> If it pleases you to phrase it that way

xxforsaken-angelxx no i mean it thats more rehab wwork than anyone here has

centaurstechnician D—> Indeed, do you know how much of their physique is compromised by the biowire’s intrusion? D—> As well it w001d be helpfoal to know how long they have been filly on life support

xxforsaken-angelxx purportedly the biowire aint fuckin wwith anythin an theyvve been there bout fifty swweeps, on full life support for a lotta that

centaurstechnician D—> According to whom? D—> Helms are %tremely bad at self reporting D—> And technicians are apt to overlook anything which does not interfere with the job D—> But assuming all you are dealing with is musc001ature atrophy, and not compromised limb function due to %cessive scarring and nerve damage D—> The I have a regimin of physical therepy %ercises to deal with each stage of recovery D—> As well as diet suggestions. D—> It will take them an amount of time to adjust to taking food by mouth again, and you will want to start with liquids, though a high protein diet rich in calories is imperative to recovery D—> I also suggest that perminant ports be replaced with silicone seating for comfort while moving and laying in any position

xxforsaken-angelxx according to the techs but thats fuckin useful shit

centaurstechnician D—> Are they currently on broad spectrum antibiotics and antivirals? D—> Restarting the immune system is an entire process involving transfusions and system boosters D—> They abso100tely will find their body treating every new thing as a possible intruder once it begins to ramp up D—> So you will need to watch for anaphylaxis, and have epinephrine ready, as well as simpler antihistamines and steriods

xxforsaken-angelxx youre a fuckin useful bitch yknoww that like i knoww wwere prepped for that one but youre less dodgy than the clowwn nurses

centaurstechnician D—> I am nothing if not usefoal D—> Helping to rehabilitate helms legally and freely is a dream > centaursTechnician has sent file exercise&diet.zip D—> My notes

xxforsaken-angelxx *hell* yes

centaurstechnician D—> I understand the subject is entering this affair willingly? D—> There may come a point, more quickly, or further along, where they grow tired of constantly struggling to do normal activites. D—> I have found a simple and uncomplicated short term and long term reward system helps with motivation, as long as you are entirely transparent about your motivations

xxforsaken-angelxx yeah they apparently wwould really like this to be a thing, so but tell me more about that?

centaurstechnician D—> Between keeping a private journal that remains private, and finding out what motivates them, new books? Food? Food is quite popular with psions in general because of their abnormally high caloric needs.

xxforsaken-angelxx i cant evven guess wwhat theyd like but wwe wwill cross that bridge wwhen wwe get there

centaurstechnician D—> once off the automatic regulation of blood sugar by the life support systems, many psions have reported feeling like they are constantly hungry, so food as a short term treat rarely goes wrong

xxforsaken-angelxx noted

centaurstechnician D—> feel free to contact me with any further questions

xxforsaken-angelxx actually heres one wwhat do you do like speech wwise

centaurstechnician D—> Are the vocal chords damaged? D—> If the voice is damaged, cybershades or glasses present an alternative to communication while strength and dexterity is being rebuilt in the hands

xxforsaken-angelxx theyvve refused to talk their wwhole service so i mean i fuckin assume an wwhat the fuck is a cybershades

centaurstechnician D—> It may be a form of protest, specifically. D—> Ah, hm > centaursTechnician has sent file cybershades.pdf D—> I apologize for the slightly rough instructions, this was pulled from a site where they discuss building one from cheap and spare parts D—> But it should still be usefoal D—> They are shades that present a HUD display of a computer interface, and work via a touch contact neural transmitter. D—> They can be both single or paired with a other device for increased computing power.

xxforsaken-angelxx ...thats cool as all shit

centaurstechnician D—> They are invaluable for giving some freedoms to those who have trouble communicating D—> And also for using your computing devices on then fly

xxforsaken-angelxx i wwould FUCKIN imagine

centaurstechnician D—> Language

xxforsaken-angelxx im a clowwn if i dont swwear then i shrivvel up like an unwwatered plant

centaurstechnician D—> I suppose if it is medically necessary I shall allow it

xxforsaken-angelxx i kneww youd understand

centaurstechnician D—> Of course D—> Let me know if there are any other pieces of equipment you need schematics for or questions I can answer

xxforsaken-angelxx one more thing any tips on like keepin someone not horrifically bored wwhen they wwont tell you wwhat they like

centaurstechnician D—> Give them the resources to seek their own entertainment. D—> Remember that they are probably very angry about the fate that was handed them D—> However they choose to express that anger is the only act of will they have taken for themselves from the shambles left to them of their abillity to act D—> You are not entitled to know anything about them D—> Give them the shades, allow them to order and ask for things on their own terms D—> They can find their own way. D—> As long as things are available to them if they choose.

xxforsaken-angelxx mm that makes sense not wwhat nymede wwants to hear though

centaurstechnician D—> There are many realities of dealing with people on the other side of a system you have benefitted from which are.. difficolt by nature

xxforsaken-angelxx shes been havvin a rough time wwith it but its easier wwhen i like fuckin knoww wwhat else to tell her to do

centaurstechnician D—> Feel free to direct her to me as well, if I can help, I will D—> I have been tasked with restoring Goldwave, as well D—> So I do have familiarity with the particulars of the implants used.

xxforsaken-angelxx yeah good fuckin point just might do that ...on a scale a one to ten howw much of a bitch is he to deal wwith

centaurstechnician D—> I believe he is doing his best to behave D—> Although I personally find him enjoyable enough. D—> perhaps a six, a nine if you are not me.

xxforsaken-angelxx thats about wwhat i thought but also i dont knoww howw the fuck you like him

centaurstechnician D—> My Red’s pale would rate him a twelve I’m certain

xxforsaken-angelxx ha

centaurstechnician D—> I quite enjoy his quick wit, and Strength of personality and determination

xxforsaken-angelxx i mean thats one fuckin wway to put it ...youre also wwith the serial killer bitch or somethin though so i dunno

centaurstechnician D—> I am Vriska’s moirail, yes. Ive known her since we were wrigglers

xxforsaken-angelxx im sure theres somethin there for you but i only knoww her for a lotta felonies so its questionable to me

centaurstechnician D—> I am curious about what intellegence about those procedings youve managed to gather

xxforsaken-angelxx not fuckin much i knoww there wwas a lotta murder an some fuckers head got stolen an our one heiress aligned ship that got ovver to the scene fuckin hated it uh she used transportalizer tech wwe dont havve

centaurstechnician D—> I apologize for my little prank with the letter, also

xxforsaken-angelxx OH YEAH THAT BITCH

centaurstechnician D—> :) D—> I’m told she killed every coolblood in the station

xxforsaken-angelxx yeah that she did fuckin brutally

centaurstechnician D—> There is nothing I can say which will lessen the impact of her chosen methodology D—> And I am not going to attempt to. D—> I’m curious, though, Grinmaw D—-> How many people have you killed?

xxforsaken-angelxx none zero none people

centaurstechnician D—> We have the privilege of having that in common, then

xxforsaken-angelxx not the up close vviolence type myself

centaurstechnician D—> Do you prefer a hands off approach, then? xxforsaken-angelxx eh, kinda im supposed to knoww wwar strategy type stuff an i like studyin it but right noww if i havve to actually use it then thatd be a bad sign to say the least centaurstechnician D—> I sincerely hope that your hands can stay clean.

xxforsaken-angelxx nice a you you too though centaurstechnician D—> Thank you

[iris-ymir]

Guilty or Innocent - Iris

Asked someone to marry you? 

“No. Not mi thin’. The whole... damn idea about marriage and shite? I dunno. Like... spending rest or yer life with the same person? Absolutely! Its just... Dont get mi wrong here! But the whole mess about marriage, and such.. It sounds so damn artificial. Do I wanna live with someone for the rest of mi years? Sure! But I dont need a fockin’ ring to prove it to anyone.. Then again.. If someone was to ask mi to marry her? Yeah, why not? If ya want a damn ring, lets get a damn ring!”

Kissed one of your friends?

“Shite... Well, yeah. About that... I have kissed many of mi friends actually.. And let mi tell ya. It always ends up into a fockin’ mess. One way or another! I... guess I should stop kissin’ mi friends..?”

Danced on a table in a bar / tavern? “You.. happen to know what Im doin’ for livin’? Yeah. Basically that.”

Ever told a lie?

“Just show me a fockin’ person who has not, and I’ll show ya a bastard who’s lying right there, on dat very damn moment! We all lie... Some more than others, but thats not the point, righto?”

Had feelings for someone you can’t have?

“Yeah... Ya remember I just told ya about kissin’ mi friends and shite? Well dat. I messed up real good. Like... the royal mess up! I still have feelin’s for her... Could rip mi damn heart out for her... But I think she just might be lost for mi for good... Im not giving up though! But as thin’s are.. What happened between us... Heck. It might be a lost fockin’ cause.”

Ever kissed someone of the same sex?

“Im... so very much a bean flicker, ya know? Never had interest in opposite sex... Does dat answer yer question?”

Kissed a picture? "No? Seven hells, why would I be suckin’ on some damn piece of paper?”

Slept until 5pm? “Im a night owl.. I wake up sometime durin’ the afternoon. So yeah. I will sleep until 5pm, if you dont come and wake mi up. Which is fockin’ annyin’ by tha way.. Just let mi sleep..”

Worked at a fast food chain / restaurant “Nope.. And dont have a slightest interest in such! ...I would make a fockin’ horrible restaurant worker... Now this.. may sound rather miserable, but my current job is actually mi first real day job ever! ...Or well.. A night job? Anyway.. Yeah.”

Stolen something? “I would say... Try living on streets of fockin’ Limsa Lominsa for good 10 summers, and then... if yer still alive and kickin’, try asking yaself dat question! ...Yes. I have stolen for livin’.”

Been fired from a job? “As I mentioned just a moment ago, this is mi first day job ever... And I have been able to keep it so far! ... And Im about to keep it! I want to see the faces of every poor bastard, who ever said I could not get, let alone keep a job! And well... I actually kinda like mi job, so there’s also dat. And I get a decent money out of it.”

Done something you regret? “... Really? We need to go back to this again? I had.. a really bad week some time ago, ya know. I did.. lot of shite.. The whole thin’ is just.. so foggy in mi head, its annoyin’! But yeah. I think I almost slept with mi friend.. broke lot of stuff.. a damned heirloom notestand.. And in the end, I went and kissed another friend against her will... The... one I fockin’ love.. Damn, I miss her. But it was not mi damn fault!! I had just like the shittiest week ever! ... I dont know... Maybe some of it kinda was.. Can we just go on? I focked up, okai..?”

Laughed until something you were drinking came out of your nose? “Nnno. Cant remember such thin’. Sometimes a drink has gone like... into mi nose for one or another reason... But actually out of it? I dont think so. Then again, who am I to say! One just cant remember everythin’ ya know?”

Caught a snowflake on your tongue? “No, I have not. Tha Shrimp does it, so.. technically I have? But as miself? No. I have not. On purpose at least.”

Sat on a roof top? “Used to do that in Limsa Lominsa. It was.. an awfully calming feeling, ya know? To get away from all the shite, going on down on the streets. Just... sit alone, watch the ships getting loaded.. Watch them sailin’ away. I dont do it anymore though.. The roofs in Ishgard are fockin’ slippery.”

Kissed someone you shouldn’t have? Iris gives the other a long, dead stare. “... Fockin’ really?! Didn’t I just told ya dat. Ya want some heckin’ details?! Right!  So, yes, I was wasted... I shouldn’t have to... And damn yes, it was foolish of mi! Silke. The gal I fancy.. Ya know the type that just... puts damn butterflies into yer tumtum.. rises yer head up to the fockin’ pink clouds faster than anythin’ ya can buy from the streets of Ul’dah.. A damn purdiful fockin’ lass... Damn best thin’ that ever happened to mi... And I focked it up by hecking going and kissing her! So... Ya happy with dis subject now, or are ya gonna poke dat infected wound some more? If so, Im done with dis...”

Sang in the shower?

“Ummm... No.”

Been pushed into a body of water with all your clothes on? “Pushed? I... dont think so! Thrown into water with mi clothes on though... Yes! And I tell ya now! That damn merchant had a heckin’ cart full of those apples! Most of dem would have gone on waste aniway! But nooo.. I get thrown into sea, for one damn apple! One apple!! And it was not even worth it. The apple was dry like Sagolii sand the merchant’s fockin’ muffin-hole was propably full of!”

Shaved your head? "Well, I did not!! Blacksoul did durin’ the time he fockin’ kept mi as his personal damn doll or somethin’.. So yeah! It is growin’ back now, but if it looks like a damn rake-raped crow’s arse to ya, its not my fault!!”

Made a boyfriend / girlfriend cry? “I... dont know, actually! Not during mi time with her, no. We kiinda only had a fleetin’ moment though, so did not ‘ave like... too much time to make the lass cry! ... I guess she still believes mi to be dead though. So its possible she cried for mi presumed death in the hands of her husband’s underlin’s... I hope she did... Yeah.”

Shot a gun? “I did, yeah! Ya know... One of those Ishgardian ones. Loud... lot of smoke... A decent kick. Kinda like a bar night to live for! You know, Im actually even rather decent with guns.. Not my style, though.”

Still loved someone you shouldn’t? “You gotta be kiddin’ me!! ... Oh wait. Someone I shouldn’t? I dont think so... Seven hells, we heckin’ belong together!! ...She has just... yet to understan it... She will! Sooner or later... Hopefully sooner. Fock’s sake, I miss that silly gal and her nice ass...”

Have / had a tattoo? “Yeah, the one around mi eyes. I also have another one on mi thigh... Iris flowers and thorns... Four of dem. For four kinda important people in mi life. From which, I have actually lost... every single one... Fock’s sake, whats wrong with mi?!”

Liked someone, but will never tell who? “Nno. I have... some difficulties in the ‘never tell’-thingie. Im more of a... ‘tell too much’-type o’ person. But ‘ey! Kinda honesty is a good thing, right?”

Been too honest? “If bein’ too ‘onest means kiinda colorin’ the truth a little to make it hit on the mark better. Yeah. I guess so. I just may overact a bit time to time! But den again... Makes the truth more interestin’ huh?”

Ruined a surprise? “No, I hardly part-take in suprises in general...”

Been told that you’re beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said? “Actually... No. I dont know!! Well, mi first girlfriend did, but did she totally mean what she said? Damn, I dont know... Considerin’ the fact she... most likely kinda sold mi out not too long after, it makes it heckin’ hard to believe anythin’ that ever crossed those sweet crimson lips of hers! I wonder why no-one has ever said it though... Im smokin’ hot!! ... So tell me. Am I beautiful..? Hm?”

Stalked someone? “If we call people watchin’ stalkin’ here, then Im damn guilty as a plague rat! But like... in the creepy wai? No! Why the heck would I do somethin’ like that. Dats just sick...”

Thought about murder? “If someone has just taken a royal shite on ya, sweet damn, thats reason enough to just shank the bastard, and scatter the innards into the sea! Most people are so fockin’ rotten though, I dunno if even damn fishies care for their foul organs... Could always make dem into a bagpipe and gift it to their family and friends... Maybe then they could actually get a taste of whut kinda shitebag they been hangin’ around with...”

How about mass murder?

“... Well, as dey say... Apple does not drop far from a tree, and sometimes those apples are rotten before dey hit the ground. So yeah. The last question in mind, why not?”

Cheated on someone? “No! Think anythin’ you want of mi, but Im fockin’ devoted!! ... Well, I have only had one relationship, that lasted for like... couple of months... But damn I was devoted... Up until she choose her husband over mi...”

Gotten so angry that you cried? “Happens time to time... Cryin’.. cleans the system, ya know. Just... Get into middle of nowhere, and scream yer lungs out!”

Tried to stay away from someone for their own good? “... Im kinda doin’ that right now. Dey will be better off without me. She’s got her damn hero dere, taking care of her... Where does she even need mi anyway? Heck, we barely even knew eachother... ... I think Im better off without dem too.. Shite.. Dey were awfully nice towards mi though.. Do I really miss dem? ... Maybe. But it all went down in flames and bloody sheets, can we talk about somethin’ else?”

Thoughts about suicide? “Sometimes the road just rises up against you... I kinda understand it on some occasions! But overall? Kinda waste...”

Had a girlfriend / boyfriend? “Yes? That one mess I mentioned earlier? Ya payin’ attention to dis?”

Gotten totally drunk during a holiday? “Used to... Especially in Limsa, it was kinda mi way to get over the holidays. Hated to see bastards walking around all merry and shite. So I drowned mi holidays in a glass. Last Starlight was different though.. Blacksoul kinda forced mi to stay sober over the holidays... Well.. Mostly sober... Dont ya go tellin’ the old goat, but I... I think I kinda liked it. The whole Starlight with Blacksoul and Gramps... I had never really celebrated it with anyone... As miself. Heck, I just wanted mi Silke to be there, heckin’ messin’ around... I wonder if she ever got mi gift...”

Tagged by wonderful @mai-takeda​!! 🌹 This was lot of fun..

Tagging @umbralich​ (Silke) @sharkycatsifoh​ @hangedemperor​ @kyrie-silverwings​ @under-the-blood-moonlight​ @alun-ura​ @isuke-ejinn​ @ishgard​ @torr-sceadu​ @lydha-lran​ @glorysworn​ @lavender-hemlock​ @kazexvoss​ @glorified-thieves​ @captainkurosolaire​ @illia-ast​ @thefreelanceangel​ @sdavi-kitanni​ @kitsune-kirei​ @violet-warder​ @desimirffxiv​ @unatobajhiri​ @gildedandgolden​ @eo-sul​ @robyn-sawyer​ @eitur​ & anyone who wants to do it! Cansider yourself tagged!

[doyouevenshipbr0]

gruvia dabble

author's note: bruh. yall knew i had to write SOMETHING!!! these last couple weeks have been CRAZY for us gruvia lovers ughhh im so happy!!! and ok im probably eventually going to write what i think will happen in the upcoming chapters before they come out, but i usually don't like to write fics based on like what i think will happen in the next chap. cus then when my fic is just completely disproven by the following chapter im kinda like "eh thats kind of a waste." u know what im saying?? ik theyre called "fan fiction" for a reason but idk. i like to write things that could actually be in the realm of possibilities for the canon. ok does that make any sense??? ok well this fic is heavily inspired by our beautiful chapter 26. also it is soooo like 192727 other drabbles ive already written hehe. also this literally doesnt rly make sense tbh. i just wanted gray telling juvia his thought process like he did w juvina. so. enjoy❤️❤️❤️

*

"Gray-sama would you like to-" Juvia eagerly approached her dear Gray. Since the guild was finally up and running again after the Alvarez war, she couldn't wait to spend actual quality time with Gray. They hadn't really gotten to since they were so busy with the construction of the guild.

"Nope. Goin' on a job." Gray casually walked passed Juvia with his hands in his pockets.

"Eh?!" Juvia snapped her head around and watched Gray leave. "So soon?! Can Juvia at least come with?!" She called out as he continued to walk.

"Nope. Talk to ya' later." Gray didn't turn around. He just stuck a hand up and waved, still heading straight out the door.

Juvia was taken aback for a moment, but she understood. As much as she loved to shower Gray with affection, she knew he was a lone wolf at heart. And with constantly being surrounded by his guildmates as they all fought for who would get to use the hammer next, he was certainly drained.

Juvia nodded with determination. "It's alright. Next time." She said with certainty in her head.

However, over the next three weeks of Gray taking mission after mission and constantly dismissing Juvia, she was frustrated to say the least. She watched him walk out that door with hardly acknowledging her for the last time.

Without even thinking, her feet began to strut their way to catch up with Gray. She picked up her pace and finally caught up with him before he could leave the grounds of the guild.

"Gray-sama." Juvia called, and Gray paused. She used the time to catch up with him, and there they stood in the courtyard.

"What's up?" He simply asked.

"Juvia was just-- well--" She began to get nervous. She cheeks reddened as imagery of she and her beloved Gray danced through her head. She shyly put her hands behind her bag and wiggled her foot a bit. "Juvia was hoping to spend some time with Gray-sama, now that everything's finally calmed down."

"Yeah. We can later." Gray turned right back around and began walking again.

"Wait!" Juvia reached out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. She let go after a brief pause and Gray looking back at her with his piercing eyes.

"It's just-" She looked away, her eyes saddened. "Juvia's been trying to talk to Gray-sama for about three weeks now, and you've done nothing but ignore me." She pouted a bit. "Just when will later be?" She finished.

Gray sighed. "I dunno'"

"You don't know?!"

"Yeah. I don't know when later will be." His voice was firm.

Juvia was startled at the harshness of his voice and sheepishly caved in a bit. "Has-" Juvia stammered, clearly nervouse. "Has Juvia done something?"

"Huh?" Gray rasied a brow.

"Has Juvia done something to make Gray-sama mad at her?" Her eyes were suddenly glossy with tears, and Gray's eyes reacted by opening up.

"N-no! Not at all! You said it yourself, we haven't hung out in weeks. How could I be mad at you?" Gray was guilty for his tone.

"But why haven't you spent time with me in weeks Gray-sama?" Juvia pried, almost begging. "There's got to be a reason."

Gray's face regained composure. He remembered his purpose. He looked away. "I'm busy."

"Busy with what?"

"Busy with work."

"Well, you don't have to be so busy. And if you need to work so badly, you can always bring Juvia with you on-" Her voice regained its spunk as she began to form a new idea, only to have Gray shoot it down.

"No." He was harsh again.

"No?" Juvia's voice quivered.

"This doesn't have anything to do with you." Gray still looked away.

Juvia's heart sunk. "Oh." Tears began to well up again. "Well." She was looking for the right words to say, but she was at a loss. "Juvia will just mind her own business then." Just as she turned away to sulk back to the guild, Gray caught a glimpse of the tear that rolled down her cheek.

"Wait!" This time, Gray was the one reaching for Juvia's wrist. "I'm sorry." His voice was smoother.

"N-no..." Juvia's voice was timid. "Juvia is the one who is sorry for-"

"Stop it. You don't need to apologize." Gray loosened the grip on her wrist, but pulled her back a couple steps.

"I was lying." Gray said as Juvia finally faced him again, tears glassing over her eyes. "This does have to do with you." He blushed.

"Then why can't Juvia come with-"

"Because, that's not why it has to do with you." As Juvia cocked her head to side, clearly confused, Gray realized that what he was saying sounded silly.

"Gah!" Gray called out and hit himself with his palm, feeling frustrated for bot understanding how to form the thoughts in his head into words. "Do you wanna' sit somewhere?" He finally asked.

Juvia was still confused, but of course nodded in agreement.

The two found a nearby bench that was sitting right in front of a big, clear lake. The sunset reflected on the water, and created an image almost as beautiful as the water itself. They looked at in admiration for a moment, and Juvia turned back to Gray.

"So how does this involve Juvia?" She finally asked.

"I-- I--" Gray remained looking at the lake and ruffled his hair. "I gotta' keep going on missions."

"But why?" Juvia asked, sweetly.

"I... have to get stronger." Gray grumbled as he leaned forward.

"Stronger?" Juvia chuckled. "That's silly! Gray-sama is already the strongest man in the whole world! There is no one thay can compare to you, dear! Why would you think a few missions could improve that?" Juvia swooned.

"If I was the strongest man in the world you wouldn't have that scar." Gray finally said something clearly. Juvia choked on her breath.

"Eh?" She said, softly. "Juvia gave this scar to herself."

"And it was to save me." He seemed like he was growing angrier.

"Yes, but-"

"If I was strong enough, I would've been able to break his chains before that happened. I would've been able to stop it and save you." The composure in his voice was clearly wavering.

"Gray-sama..." Juvia reached an arm and placed it on Gray's back.

"I'm sorry Juvia." His voice shook, and he still did not look at her. "I know I promised you an answer, and at the time i meant it. I still do. It's just-"

Horrible images flashed in Gray's mind, making his skin crawl. "After Invel, and almost losing you, not begin able to protect you... it--it killed me." Gray gritted his teeth, almost like he was biting back tears.

"Darling... You know Juvia is just fine protecting herself." She reasoned.

"Yeah, but you don't understand." He spat.

"Juvia is trying to understand."

"I need more confidence in myself. I need it. I need to know I can protect you when the time comes. And I need to know with 100% certainty." He finally looked at her, and Juvia swore she could see tears trying to break loose from his eyes. "I thought I knew back then, but I was wrong. Just like I was with Ur, Ultear, my dad, and anyone that I've ever loved, but wanted to protect. Just when I thought I could, it was too late. I thought it was too late with you, but it wasn't. This is my second chance, Juvia. I need to know for certain that I'll be enough."

Juvia scooted a bit closer. "Gray-sama, there is always going to be something out there that will pose a threat to you or me. It's inevitable. All that matters is that we do everything in our power to protect one another. As long as we try, our love will always prevail. You were more than enough for me from the moment we met, and Juvia would think you would see that by now."

"I know how you feel about me, and I know how I feel about you. I just need to make sure I'm the best version of myself for you. Please, understand. I have to do this." His eyes were beckoning for her.

"Gray-sama, Juvia just-" She paused when she saw the desperation in his eyes. "When will it finally be enough? When will you know you're strong enough?"

"I've decided I'm going to take the 100 Years Quest. After that, I'll be ready. I'm certain of it." Determination was plastered in his face once again.

"This is so unnecessary." Juvia sighed. "But if this is what Gray-sama must do, Juvia will wait. Juvia understands that you must do this for yourself, but I just wish Gray-sama can see that he is already more than enough for me." She put her hand atop of his and gave him a reassuring grin.

"Thank you." Gray smiled back and gave her hand a little squeeze. "I know I'll be ready soon, and once I am, I'm gonna' go after you." Gray gave a smirk, Juvia's face became flushed with his sudden forwardness.

The two shared a heartfelt gaze, as they looked in each other's eyes and finally understood one another. They gave calming smiles, finished by another hand squeeze from Gray.

"No matter what."

[ladyknightleyisundercover]

can you please do harry's reaction to ginny being hurt at work? or the other way around? thanks so much, i love your writing!

this is, as ever, utter nonsense and i started it last summer when there was actually a summer in the uk, so sorry sorry for the ridiculous delay and thank you for the prompt and kind words :) ((also, emily, i wrote this with you in mind as the only person who could enjoy christmas in june as much as me)) AO3

It was the longest spell of genuinely hot weather Harry could remember for a long time. Day after day after day of unbroken, blazing sunshine followed by hot, sultry nights. It was fantastic, the kind of once-in-a-generation British summer you heard about but didn’t really believe actually happened. It had also coincided with the quietest part of Ginny’s year: July was between the end of the old Quidditch season, and when training started up for the new season, so she hardly went into work, and, by sheer luck, things were as quiet as they ever got in the Auror Department, too. He’d mentioned this to Ginny the other day, while firing up the barbecue for the eighth day in a row. “Too hot for crimes,” she’d responded, fanning herself with a copy of Witch Weekly.

He was glad. The quietness, combined with the lovely weather, meant that even Gawain Robards was happy for his staff to work at home, as long as they were on call in an emergency. So far, the only emergency Harry had had to contend with had been when they’d headed over to the recently reopened Fortescue’s ice cream parlour only to find out they’d run out of their new Treacle Tart sundae.

Apart from such traumas, he and Ginny had been having a brilliant couple of weeks with each other and with the weather—amazingly—set to hold, he saw no reason for this not to continue. They’d taken Teddy to the seaside a couple of times, but had spent most of the rest of their time at home, just enjoying summer in the city and being together. It was bliss.

Unfortunately, the nice weather meant that he had really been letting his paperwork slip. Realising he had an overdue and extremely important report due that afternoon, Harry had announced his intention to Ginny that he needed to knuckle down before lunch, but that he’d be free later if she wanted to do something. She’d replied vaguely that she, too, had things to do this morning, so he’d very dutifully shut himself in his study with a glass of ice cold lemonade. All had been going well, until a sudden loud crash, accompanied by much swearing, made him pause. “Everything okay?” he called, sticking his head out of the door and calling up the stairs.

“All good!” Ginny’s voice floated down to him, so he returned to work. Except, a second later, he heard, quite distinctly, jingle bells.

Probably just Ginny shifting a few things around upstairs, he reasoned. She’d mentioned the attic, where they kept the Christmas decorations. She must be looking for the other sun lounger which they’d been meaning to dig out for days.

The jingle bells persisted. And then...surely not? That couldn’t be the Celestina Warbeck Christmas Album? Surely not?

But Harry recognised the wailing, and, when it continued, decided to investigate.

“Oh, hello,” Ginny said, beaming at him as he entered the spare bedroom. “Come to get in the mood, too?” This alone would have been ridiculous enough; the fact that she was wearing a reindeer hairband (complete with strap-on bright red nose), tinsel in an assortment of colours draped around her like a several scarves and an absolutely enormous Christmas jumper, left him all but speechless.

The jumper wasn’t even one of the nice, normal ones Mrs Weasley made for the family every year, it was an oversized novelty one which came with a light up Christmas tree and the slogan ‘you’re TREEmendous’ on the front. It was, in short, hideous. He remembered telling her this when she’d bought it, last November. Never one to shy away from the festive season—Ginny was the biggest Christmas person he knew, and would probably have started singing Christmas songs and putting up decorations at the end of September, if he’d let her—she’d immediately purchased it and worn it nearly every day until New Year’s. Though Harry had since completely forgotten about it. Ginny, it appeared, had not. But that still did not explain why she was wearing it in July, in the middle of the hottest, longest heatwave they’d enjoyed in years.

“Promo day!” she exclaimed now, when prompted. Harry frowned in further confusion. “We’re shooting all the new season promotional material for the Harpies tomorrow,” she explained. “As well as the usual team stuff, we’re doing a themed calendar, for charity. The first team and the five main reserves are each get a month and are photographed in suitable seasonal poses for that month and it’s bunged together in a calendar, which goes on sale late this year, all profits to charity. I’m December. I swear I told you about this the other day.”

Harry realised, too late, that she had indeed explained it all to him the other day. The only thing was, she’d done so wearing her brand new bright red bikini and so he hadn’t really been paying her words too much attention. He’d made a joke about it being the sort of calendar where she would wear said bikini, and she’d pretended to be affronted and said no, it was very classy, that they were going for comedy value and she’d be wearing her Christmas jumper.

Now, looking at the jumper again, and seeing how it stretched nearly to her knees, he saw what she meant.

“Wait a minute, though,” he added. “You just happened to get December?”

Ginny grinned. “I did ask,” she said. “But everyone knows how much I love Christmas, so, really, it couldn’t go to anyone else. I’d have gone off to join the Cannons in a huff if they hadn’t allowed it.”

“Well, I’m glad that you work with people who are good enough to understand your Christmas obsession,” he said, laughing. “But really, this is ridiculous. It gets earlier every year, you know!”

“What does?” she asked.

“When the decorations come out, when you start with the Christmas songs...” he gestured towards her, still laughing. “Honestly! Last year I said mid-November was too early. Now, it’s July! What’ll it be next year, March?”

“Nah, next year we just won’t bother taking down the decorations, and we’ll have them up year round,” Ginny replied, shaking her head. “You’ll see, you’ll come round!”

“It’s too early! The rules say the first of December, and—”

“The rules? Who are you, the Christmas Police? Percy?!”

“Percy?! Too far, too far!” he exclaimed, and lunged towards her, trying to lasso her with a strand of tinsel. And then, of course, it descended into something else entirely, and the report did not get written.

*

The next day, he was making a much better go at it. The heatwave continued, but the weather had clearly put Gawain Robards in a good mood as he had very graciously allowed Harry and extension on the report.

Having packed Ginny off with her hideous jumper, the ridiculous reindeer headband and an enormous cardboard box containing much of their Christmas decorations (“I can’t trust the PR team to bring out the good baubles, you know?” she’d said, looking determined) he had actually used the time to work on the report. Dull as it was, it was at least done, he realised, feeling pleased as he checked his watch. It was nearly lunchtime, which meant that Ginny would be done soon. Perhaps they’d go down to the beach at Shell Cottage later, maybe pick Ted up, too...

As he thought this, he heard the floo spring to life in the other room, so he put down his quill and sauntered in. “Mr Potter?” he heard, while still in the hallway.

He broke into a run.

For security reasons, only a very small number of fireplaces were connected to the floo at his and Ginny’s place. Most people who had access were either related to them, or might as well be. None of those people would address him as Mr Potter. The only people who might would be someone from work, contacting him about an emergency, or someone from the Harpies, calling about—

“Harry. Hi.” Gwenog Jones’s face, looking grim, was sat in his fireplace. “Listen, you’d better come through. It’s Ginny. She’s in the medical wing.”

*

“What do you mean, she just collapsed?” Harry demanded of the photographer, who shrank back, alarmed.

“I dunno!” he replied, wringing his hands. “She was just there...on the broom...and then she wasn’t.”

Harry gave him a withering look. He was seriously contemplating suggesting that the Harpies’ PR team fire him and replace him with his assistant, who had had the foresight to place cushioning charms on the ground to help break Ginny’s fall while also summoning the medical team. Nicola—the assistant—had explained that they had been trying several different poses but had eventually decided on one where Ginny, decked out in Christmas attire and the Harpies’ signature cape, flew up to the Christmas tree to place an angel at its top. They had done this quite a few times, as the photographer hadn’t been satisfied with any of his shots so far, when Ginny all of a sudden slumped forward and tumbled off her broom in a faint.

She had come round, somewhat, before being stretchered into the medical rooms, at which point Gwenog had been dispatched to fetch Harry, who was listed as her emergency contact. Now, he was with Gwenog in the waiting room, and the photographer and his assistant had just come in. Nicola looked genuinely concerned about Ginny; the photographer looked more concerned about the possibility of his having damaged the Harpies’ star chaser and the impact of this on his future work for the team.

“So d’you reckon she’ll be back today, or should I pack up my equipment?” he asked. Fortunately—for him, or Harry might have punched him—one of the team’s Healers stepped into the waiting room, and he and Nicola made themselves scarce.

“All is well,” she said, holding up her hands to both Harry and Gwenog’s demands. “Mr Potter, I presume?”

Harry nodded. “Ginny’s okay?”

“She is, yes. My name’s Hannah, I’m the lead Healer for the Harpies. We’ve run various tests on Ginny, but it seems that what happened was simply a benign case of heat exhaustion,” she explained. “With the weather being what it is; the multiple layers she was wearing; the airlessness of the room and the photographer’s lighting charms, it seems that everything got a bit much for Ginny and it caused her to faint. Fortunately, the cushioning charms meant she sustained no other damage, and now we’ve cooled her down and ensured she’s got plenty of fluids inside her, we have no concerns about this being anything more serious.”

Harry exhaled hugely. “Thank you,” he said fervently, but Hannah brushed it off.

“Not at all; it’s my job,” she said simply. “As I say, we’ve cooled her down and she’s getting plenty to drink, but we’ll want to monitor her vitals for another hour or so before you take her home. She’s to not overexert herself, and remain cool and well hydrated for at least the next twenty four hours but this is certainly nothing long lasting. Of course, if you become concerned about anything do get in touch immediately, but there is nothing to worry about at this stage.”

“Can I see her?” asked Harry.

“Of course,” said Hannah, gesturing for him to follow her. Gwenog indicated that she would remain where she was and give the two of them some time together. Harry was glad—even though he was fully assured by Hannah that this was nothing more than a mild case of heat exhaustion, his alarm had been considerable and he wanted to see her to know she was really okay. It wasn’t the first injury she’d had at work, and it wasn’t the worst, either, but even so, the panic he had felt when Gwenog first appeared in his fireplace wasn’t fully gone even now.

Hannah led him down a long corridor, but he could see into Ginny’s room as the door to it was open. She was sat up in bed, wearing a hospital gown, but seemed quite perky; she was holding a large glass of iced water and laughing about something with another medical attendant. She waved at Harry, spotting him coming up the corridor, and he resisted the temptation to break into a run and hurl himself onto the bed next to her.

Once they arrived, Hannah explained to Ginny that they would want to monitor her vitals for another hour or so but if everything remained as it was, she’d be able to go home at the end of that hour. “However,” Hannah added, picking up a clipboard suspended in mid-air, onto which a quill was making continual notes, “everything looks fine to me. Call us if you need anything, but I’ll leave the two of you alone for now.”

“Thank you so much,” Ginny said, looking between Hannah and the other Healer, who nodded. “I’m so sorry to have been so much trouble, but you’ve both been wonderful. Thank you.” She sounded, to Harry, just as she normally did, and he was almost completely certain that she would be fine.

“Just doing our jobs,” said Hannah, brushing this off, then the Healers left.

“Thank Merlin you’re okay,” Harry said, barely waiting until they were out of the room to dive towards the bed and gather her up in his arms. He inhaled the smell of her, that familiar, floral smell which brought him so much comfort, and held her close for several minutes. Just being there, sat on the bed with her, was enough to soothe away the last vestiges of panic.

Eventually, he broke away, leaning back, only to be confronted by a look of utter moroseness on her face. She seemed so upset that he was immediately catapulted back into a state of panic, looking around for Hannah and her team of Healers, certain that she must be in more pain than she was letting on. “What is it, what’s the matter?” he demanded.

“Oh Harry,” she replied, in a near wail. “It’s terrible!”

“What is, what’s the matter?” he asked. “Do you need me to get the Healers?”

“I’ll never live it down,” she continued, as though he hadn’t spoken.

“What? Oh, no, of course you will. Everyone gets a little overheated every now and then, and fainting’s perfectly normal in that situation. As long as nothing more serious is the matter, and the Healers were sure that you’re fine other than that, then I don’t see—”

“It wasn’t the falling off my broom,” she said, waving the hand holding the water glass and nearly sloshing ice all over him. “That would happen to anyone who fainted. It was the heat.” She gestured over to the corner of the room, where a chair was piled high with her clothes—the Harpies cape, draped over the back of it; jeans; a tank top; and the enormous, hideous Christmas jumper.

“I’m not surprised you got too hot in all that,” Harry said. “It’s thirty-three degrees today, plus whatever else inside that room with all the photography equipment. Honestly, it was irresponsible of them to—”

“Harry!” she said, widening her eyes dramatically. “You don’t understand! It’s Christmas. It’s betrayed me!”

“...what?!”

“I fainted because I got overheated, and I overheated because I was wearing my Christmas jumper! Christmas has betrayed me!”

He laughed out loud at the distressed expression on her face. “Well, if you want to get technical, I guess it was just that one jumper that betrayed you, not Christmas as a whole, and really if you are going to wear an enormous great big woolly thing on the hottest day of July, I really don’t—”

“Christmas! Has! Betrayed me!” Ginny cried, ignoring his reasonableness. “Me! I will never live this down,” she added dramatically, then reached out and clutched his arm. “Promise me one thing, Harry.”

He raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face.

“Promise me...” she closed her eyes and sighed dramatically. “Promise me you’ll not tell George and Ron. They’ll never let me forget it!”

He laughed, all set to agree, when a thought suddenly occurred to him. He pursed his lips, sitting up straighter on the hospital bed, and Ginny shrank back against the pillows. “Uh oh,” she said quietly.

“I promise that I won’t tell anyone about how you got heat exhaustion because Christmas betrayed you—”

“Oh, thank you darling, that’s just what I—”

“If you,” he continued loudly, interrupting her interruption, “if you agree that, this year, Christmas does not start in our house until the first of December. Last year, we practically had the tree up the day after Bonfire Night—”

“That’s an exaggeration!”

“Only a minor one,” Harry said. “Seriously. Christmas begins on the first of December. No decorations, no songs, no gnomes dressed up like angels, no light up jumpers, nothing festive until the first. After that point, anything goes. If you can stick to it, I’ll not say a word to anyone about today. If you can’t...” He trailed off, giving a faux-nonchalant shrug.

She exhaled forcefully, blowing several strands of hair around her face and glared at him. “You are so going on the naughty list this year.”

He winked. “That’s what I’m hoping!”

[etherealblasphemy]

You Never Seemed So Tense, Love

(what’s this? some actual content? on my blog? it’s more likely than you think)

hello again, y’all! it’s been a while since i’ve posted any writing, but at last, i’ve finished another fic! i hope y’all enjoy this one, i found it really fun to write. (title from “gives you hell” by the all-american rejects)

Trigger Warnings For: mild language and mentions of alcohol

Summary: Logan Guiscard loves his simple, mundane life. He most certainly does not love his next-door neighbor, Virgil Savage.

Length: 7,476 words

Kudos are appreciated, reblogs are adored, comments are loved!!

Logan Guiscard loved his life. Honestly. He loved his little suburban house that looked like almost every other home in his neighborhood. He loved his shiny car that he had to wash every weekend because if it wasn’t shining then obviously someone would think something was wrong and wouldn’t take him seriously. He loved his job as an astronomy professor at the local university where nobody cared about what the constellations were named because the Greeks were all dead, and it’s not they couldn’t just Google the names, anyways. He loved waking in the morning to see a lawn full of native plants and a little garden, because he might live in the affluent suburbs, but that didn’t mean he’d give into lawn culture, the horrid thing.

The only thing he didn’t love was his unfortunately next-door neighbor, Virgil Savage. Everything about him was simply illogical. The first thing the imbecile had done after moving in was paint the house bright purple, a stark contrast from the pastel grey every other home sported. He had a rather irritating habit of playing music a decibel too loud for Logan’s taste. He had absolutely no sense of self-care; Virgil seemed to throw on whatever clothes were clean— they were mismatched and rumbled, as if he had just taken them from his floor—and his skin was dull and most likely caked with makeup, which could easily be fixed if the man would just wash his face in the morning. Virgil Savage also had the miserable mannerism of being at least partially nocturnal.

Logan first found out about this “lifestyle” within a week of Virgil moving in. At first, he thought his neighbor was simply having trouble adjusting to his new house. And then the music started. Had it been any other time of day, perhaps Logan would have learned to let it by, to continue with his daily life. But because it was nine-thirty on a Wednesday night and Logan happened to teach Introduction to Astronomy on Thursdays at seven a.m., he marched over to the Savage house with a glare that burned hot enough to set Pluto alight, and knocked three times on the heavy door, tapping his foot incessantly as he waited for a response.

Virgil had opened the door with tired, bleak eyes the color of the Milky Way, full of enigmatic monachopsis that seemed to scream for human contact like an abandoned astronaut, and all arguments fled from the tip of Logan’s tongue. The music was even louder with the door open; the most prominent instrument was a piano that sounded like someone was slamming their fingers down on the keys in a desperate rage. Someone was screaming about friends and not wanting to leave, their voice raspy and broken.

“Do you… need something?” his neighbor had asked with a gruff voice, clutching at his elbows as if the sooner Logan left, the better. Logan had snapped out of his daze, pushing his glasses back up as he looked up at the man standing in the doorway. He couldn’t see much from where he stood on the porch.

“Yes, actually, I would like for you to turn your music down. It is impeding my ability to sleep, and I have to teach a class in the morning,” Logan explained crisply. Virgil looked him up and down, sizing up his new competitor with a smug smirk.

“Well, I dunno, teach.” Logan’s heart stopped for a full second at the nickname before his face morphed into a mask of contempt. “There’s a party going on right now, and what party is complete without music?”

Logan’s eyes narrowed as he glanced inside. He couldn’t see much besides a very much empty living room. “Apparently, a pity party,” he replied, his tone harsher than he intended. For a quarter of a second, a single frame in the movie of life, Virgil’s face had contorted, full of hurt, before quickly losing its emotion, replaced with cool nonchalance. Logan had had half the mind to apologize for his unsympathetic behavior before the song grew louder and Logan was reminded that it was late at night and he was too exhausted to deal with this sort of tomfuckery.

He was about to launch into a full debate to convince this heathen to turn his music down to a respectable volume when another figure came careening through the living room by way of an unseen doorway, crashing into Virgil with raucous, drunken giggles.

“Broooooo…” the newcomer slurred, his arms wrapped around Virgil’s neck for support. “You gotta finish that assignment of yours. You wanna pass the class, donya? Come ooooon,” he wheedled. Virgil’s face flushed as the stranger whined.

“Roman, how much have you drunk?”

“…a bottle.”

“A bottle?! Dee let you drink a whole bottle?!” Virgil’s eyes were the size of dinner plates, his mouth hanging open in disbelief as he turned, facing the living room that still held no-one despite the “party” raging on inside. “Dee! I’m gonna kick your ass!” he yelled as he unwrapped Roman’s arms from his neck. Virgil’s eyes glanced back at Logan. “Sorry about my friend.”

With that, Virgil pushed Roman further into the house, muttering in exasperation as he shut the door without another word to Logan. The teacher blinked before he regained his senses. He scoffed at the sudden cut-off from his neighbor, rolling his eyes. There was nothing else he could do now besides head back home and shove a pillow over his ears to muffle the music.

It was only when he finally slipped into bed that he realized he could only hear the sound of crickets and someone’s air conditioner whirring in the late August night heat.

The music had been turned off.

He hated himself for believing that it would end that night with a simple confrontation. The next week, the music was up again. Logan was too busy grading incomplete and frustratingly incorrect constellation maps to tell off Virgil, and let it be. But then it happened again the next week. And the next. It seemed to Logan that Virgil was just trying to get a rise out of him at this point. When he called his brother he ask for advice, the only promising words he got was “talk to him.”

“Patton, you don’t understand. I have talked to him, he just won’t listen,” he sighed as his brother listened intently over the video call, constantly adjusting his round glasses.

“Now, Logan, you know that everybody communicates in different ways. Maybe he is listening, but he just can’t communicate in a way you understand.” Patton adjusted his glasses again as he tilted his head, a thought striking him. “Maybe he’s trying to get your attention?”

Logan sighed, thinking about Virgil. Would he really be the type of person to annoy him just to get his attention? Virgil didn’t need to play music at an irritating volume for Logan’s consideration of him—those sonderous eyes plagued him almost as much as the music did.

Hold on. What did he just think?

“Are you alright, Logan? You’re making face you always do whenever I correct on your grammar. You know—like someone just ate all the second cookies,” Patton giggled. Logan heard someone talking in the background as Patton turned away from the camera, listening to the person off-screen. “Yep! Do you wanna come say hi to him?” Logan heard a sound of acquiescence and the pounding of footsteps as someone ran down the hallway of his brother’s apartment.

“Hiya there, Logan!” He flinched as Patton’s partner, Emile, popped up in front of the camera. “I heard you were in a jam!” The psychiatrist held up a jar of jam as Logan groaned at the pun, massaging the bridge of his nose.

“I don't know which is worse—your puns or Virgil’s music,” he grumbled goodnaturedly as the partners collapsed into laughter that sounded choppy in the low quality audio of his laptop. He ran a hand through his hair as he checked the time, cringing at the late hour. “I’m sorry, Patton, but I’ll have to sign off now. It’s getting late and I have the wonderful blessing of teaching a morning class tomorrow. I’ll see you next weekend, correct?” His brother nodded as he and Emile wished Logan goodnight.

As he turned off his computer, his mind wandered back to the original topic of his and Patton’s conversation—Virgil. He couldn’t possibly be engaging in this childish feud because he was, what, interested in him? Logan snorted aloud, shaking his head. Virgil was obviously only toying with him.

“Well, then,” he whispered aloud as he slipped into bed, ready to fall asleep. “Two can play that game.”

He wasn’t able to put his plan into motion until the following weekend, just before he had to pick up Patton from the airport. It was quite simple, in Logan’s opinion, but then again, he reminded himself, he had to be on the road by at least nine so he could pick up Patton from his eleven-o-clock arrival, so complex schemes were out of the question until he had the time and reason to do such. Thus, he found himself setting a heavy speaker down on the edge of his front porch, his phone already connected to it. He had deliberated for a while on what song to use before settling on the timeless classic of “Hooked on a Feeling”.

He was about to turn on the speaker when he felt his phone vibrating in his hand. He turned it on to see a text from Patton: “So… I might have told you the wrong arrival time…” Immediately, he called his brother.

“What do you mean, ‘wrong arrival time’?” he questioned as soon as Patton picked up.

“Well, I’m here now. At the airport. It turns out the flight isn’t as long as I thought it was…” He could hear incessant chatter in the background and could clearly picture the dismal little airport that never seemed to stop renovating one wing or another, resulting in utter chaos when it came to an orderly flight schedule. “If you’re busy, don’t worry. I can wait a few hours—”

“Don’t be silly, Patton,” Logan interrupted. “I’m leaving now. I’ll be there in forty-five minutes if the traffic’s alright.” He was already grabbing his keys from inside, throwing on a jacket, and unlocking his car doors. “Have you eaten yet?” The silence was answer enough for him. “There’s plenty of options around. Just be sure to eat something healthy, alright? And remember to get your bags,” he sighed as he started the car, the engine a gentle thrum beneath him.

“Alright, Logan, I will. See you in a bit. Thanks for picking me up.” The call disconnected, leaving Logan in the silence of his car before he decided surprisingly that he couldn’t stand the quietude and turned on the car radio as he backed out of the driveway, unaware of the jet black eyes that watched him go sadly.

Logan made to the airport in forty minutes, actually. He found Patton sitting at the counter of a small shop selling dumplings and baobaos, giddily eating the delicious food. He watched with a soft smile for a moment as Patton snuck a bite of a dumpling to the golden retriever laying on the floor beneath him, her vest proudly displaying her role as a service dog. As Patton straightened, he finally noticed his brother standing several feet away.

“Logan!” he called excitedly, waving him over. Logan’s feet moved on their own, small steps turning into bounds as he ran to his brother and hugged him tightly. “I’ve missed you, too, Logan. It doesn’t seem that university can end soon enough.” Logan’s grip tightened before he released his brother. He felt something nose at his leg and looked down to see Lola nudging at his leg, staring up at him with puppy eyes, despite knowing full well she was not a puppy, by size nor age standards.

He crouched down and ran a hand through her fur as Lola’s tail began beating excitedly. “Hello to you, too,” he said as Lola barked softly in greeting. “You’ve got your bags?” he asked as he stood up. Patton nodded, finishing the last dumpling, and clambered off his stool, thanking the shop owners as he grabbed the handles of his two suitcases in both hands. “I’ll hold on to Lola.” He grabbed the golden retriever’s lease, untying it from the chair’s leg, and began guiding the dog and his brother through the dim airport to the parking lot.

It was nine forty a.m. when they got home. The sun was glimmering, bearing down with no qualms onto the earth with a fierce intensity that seemed to rake across their backs with a near unbearable heat. Patton took one look at the speakers still set up on Logan’s porch and turned around, stopping in his tracks.

“Logan, what are you planning?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to listen to some music while I washed my car,” he explained, even though he knew his car was clean and it was pointless to try and wash it when it was supposed to rain that night, anyways. Patton’s eyes narrowed with a ghost of a smile crossing his lips.

“You’re going to play music, aren’t you?” he proclaimed, twirling around and pointing at Logan with one finger and a sly smile as though he was a detective who had just solved the most difficult case ever presented to him. “Oh, I knew that look meant something! You looked so starry-eyed when we were talking about Virgil!” Logan blanched as he gasped in indignation.

“I did not look starry-eyed! He’s not even my friend, he’s just my neighbor!”

“A neighbor who you call on every Wednesday night,” Patton teased as Logan brushed past him with a groan of frustration, unlocking the door and shoving it open.

“It’s his fault, Patton, he’s the one who plays punk rock from the 2000s and 70s and 80s pop songs played on what I think might be an organ louder than a plague of cicadas at ten-thirty at night.” Patton could only laugh at Logan’s description as he made his way into the kitchen and opened the fridge, already making himself at home.

“Sure, Logan.” Patton’s brow furrowed as he surveyed the fridge and its contents. “How many jars did Mom give you last time?”

“I counted twenty—wait, don’t change the subject, Patton!” Logan chastised. Lola spoke—or, rather, barked—up, woofing at the brothers as if to say, “stop talking about your neighbor and feed me.”

When at last Lola was fed and Patton had dropped his suitcases down in the guest room, it was nearing ten a.m.; he was finally able to step outside and stretch in the sun. Out of habit, he glanced at Virgil’s house, half expecting to see strobe lights flashing wildly behind the curtains, and saw nothing. He paused, his thoughts turning to the speaker still sitting abandoned on his porch. Was Virgil still asleep? An evil grin split across his face as he pulled out his phone, finding the song easily.

“I hope you like the taste of your own medicine,” he mumbled as he pressed played. Immediately, sound poured out of the speaker, the lowest notes tapping a familiar rhythm on his heart. He could just barely hear the sounds of confusion in the other house, following by the door slamming open as Virgil stumbled out in his pyjamas.

Well, he couldn’t really call them pyjamas. Virgil was covered—thankfully, of all the bad habits Virgil partook in, sleeping in the nude was not one of them—but just barely. He wore grey boxers beneath a violet tank top at least two sizes too big for him, and not much else. And perhaps Logan blushed furiously at the sight of sunshine on Virgil’s lanky arms and pale legs, but it was just from the heat. Just the heat.

Not that any of that mattered. Logan was too busy watching Virgil nearly trip over his feet as he shambled about in his lawn, momentarily blinded by the sun, to think any more about Virgil’s limbs. As his eyesight adjusted, Virgil noticed Logan standing in his own yard, then saw the speaker blasting music, and put two-and-two together.

“Do you know what time it is?” Virgil groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Logan snickered.

“It’s nine-fifty-two a.m., which is a more reasonable time than ten-forty-five at night,” he shot back. Virgil snorted before covering it with a cough. “Even if you wake up late, you should at least go to bed at a reasonable time. A good bedtime is crucial to a healthy life,” he lectured as Virgil raised his eyebrows with a smirk.

“Oh, getting worried about me, now? Careful, teach, or someone will think you’ve caught feelings for me,” Virgil chaffed, his eyes bright now in the daylight, intelligent and unrelenting in their mirth. Logan spluttered, unable to form a proper response. “Beware, Logan Guiscard. You’ve opened up a Pandora’s Box now.” Virgil’s voice was deep and full of laughter—like Logan was missing out on the funniest joke ever told. “I hope you like punk rock.”

He couldn’t stop himself from saying, “It’s you’ve been playing, how could it ever get old?” This time, Virgil snorted for real, chuckling uncontrollably as he backed away towards his house. Logan knew he wouldn’t get that sound out of his head for weeks. Virgil paused as he reached the doorstep of his home, glancing back over his shoulder.

“…I was finishing a report for my theoretical astrobiology class, by the way. I finished a little past midnight. Sorry for wanting to sleep in. I’ll make sure to let my professor know next time that I wasn’t able to finish my paper because my neighbor cared about me.” Logan physically stepped back, stunned. Virgil was taking university classes? And astronomy-related classes at that? Sweet heavens. Somehow, Logan’s face grew even more heated in the August sun.

Too bad Virgil had already left before Logan could find out more.

It wasn’t like Virgil hadn’t warned him. Logan could clearly recall him referencing Greek mythology (which another one of his passions that just so luckily gave him an advantage in astronomy) as he swore to wreak havoc on Logan’s life. Now, perhaps he hadn’t used those exact words, but it was exactly what was happening at nine p.m. on a Tuesday night in the middle of his late-night astronomy class. The class was too far gone now to be reigned back in, the music was still pouring in through hidden speakers, and all Logan could do was stare at Virgil like his whole world had been shattered as his neighbor laughed with his whole body, the sound loud and full of life and shaking Logan’s very core.

He had been in the middle of explaining which constellations appeared during which seasons—it was the beginning of the semester and he had learned the hard way to always begin with the basics—when the music first started. He had been so envirgorated in his explanation of the importance of the North Star that he hadn’t heard it until one of his students asked if whoever was listening to Fall Out Boy would please turn the volume down. Logan had stopped in his tracks, eyes snapping back to reality with a sinking feeling of déjà vu, and listened.

Unfortunately, his dread was well-met. The sounds of Fall Out Boy’s “Thnks fr th Mmrs” were pouring in from all sides of his classroom; Logan scowled, already searching for the familiar pair of inky eyes that bedeviled his dreams and late-night musings. “Virgil Savage!” he yelled, praying that the incident was actually Virgil’s fault and not some poor student who just happened to have the exact same music interests as his neighbor. “You better show yourself before I make you!”

The laughter was more of a giveaway than anything else. Virgil slumped in the doorway, his smirk so infuriating yet charming all the same. He gave a two-fingered salute to the professor as he held up his phone, waving in his trademark teasing manner. Virgil paid no mind to the students staring at the occurrence with rabid curiosity; his focus was on Logan as he bit his bottom lip and held out the phone towards the professor as though inviting him closer.

“You want the music off?” he asked, his deep voice gliding out of his mouth and wrapping itself around Logan’s body like venti of the ancient age. Logan nodded silently and unceremoniously, unable to think of a good retort. “Come and turn it off yourself.”

That was what had sent his class into chaos. One of them had yelled “Dance party!” immediately after, jumping up from his seat and flailing his arms around in what Logan could only assume to be dancing—an attempt at dancing, at the very least. Logan glared at Virgil as he stalked slowly towards the interloper, the sounds of students nothing but background noise at this point. He leaned closer to Virgil, his eyes full of wrath.

“Turn that music off right now,” he hissed.

“You’re staying up too late. If I can’t sleep in, you can’t stay out,” was Virgil’s only response. Logan stuttered.

“You—I—I am teaching a class!”

“And I’m not turning the music off,” Virgil continued. “I told you, if you want it off—” Virgil other hand grabbed Logan’s waist, pulling him into a dip as the professor yelped in surprise and the students cheered Virgil on. “—you’re going to have to do it yourself.”

It took a full five seconds to pass before Logan’s brain rebooted, shutting down the moment Virgil’s warm touch had met his starved skin. Once his reason returned, he wrangled himself out of his neighbor’s arms with several muttered swears and all but ripped Virgil’s phone out of his hands, turning the music off quickly and shoving the device back towards his neighbor. He glared daggers at the interloper for good measure as he retreated back into the comforts of his classroom with a scowl on his face.

“You’re not getting enough sleep either, teach. What was it you said? Yeah, I remember now: ‘a good bedtime is crucial to a healthy lifestyle.’” Virgil smirked as he watched Logan try to reign in his class, to no avail, those dark irises of his eyes holding something mysterious Logan would love to unravel if it weren’t for the classroom of fifty students in the process of losing their minds. “Of course, not letting loose every once in a while and refusing to humor your everloving neighbor really takes a hit on you, doesn’t it?” Logan glanced at Virgil as he paused from removing a recording phone from particularly stubborn student, focusing on the annoyance swirling through him instead of the rapid, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it wave of warmth that overcame him at the sight of Virgil’s eyes, half hooded by his black-painted eyelids and full of curiosity—curiosity for Logan. That particular feeling he shoved back into the recesses of his mind.

“Virgil Savage, escort yourself out of this room or I will have security do so. We will continue this at a later date.” Virgil only grinned wickedly as he saluted once more and slinked behind the door frame, disappearing in the myriad of hallways.

“How about we continue it tomorrow at Bourbon Coffee? I hear they make great croissants!” Virgil shouted back. Logan stopped dead in his tracks, his head whipping towards the door in shock. But in true Virgil fashion, he was gone before Logan could find out more.

His only hope to gain another piece of the puzzle that was Virgil Savage was to meet him at Bourbon Coffee tomorrow morning.

He prayed he would survive their encounter.

Logan woke up to the mouth-watering smell of french toast the next morning, a smile already on his face. He found his brother in the kitchen, slipping Lola little bites of bacon as he cooked.

“What is all this for, Patton? Don’t you trust me to make my own breakfast?” he asked as he patted Lola, who showed off her canines with a beam.

“One of Emile’s former patients is one of your students. They told a little story on Twitter, and Emile found out and told me!” Patton swiveled around, almost whacking Logan in the face with his spatula. “How come you didn’t tell me you were going on a date?” Logan huffed, swiping a slice of bacon from the plate where they were cooling.

“It’s not a date,” he argued. “This might be my only chance to actually deal with Virgil besides throwing a pillow over my ears.” Patton chuckled, leaving the conversation as he finished cooking and slid two slices of french toast onto a nearby plate and handing it to Logan, throwing a smaller slice on the floor for Lola to wolf down. He continued his points as he ate. “Besides, I wouldn’t even call our relationship a friendship—”

“Alright, first off, don’t talk with your mouth full,” Patton interrupted as he maneuvered them both to sit at the dining room table. “Second of all.” Patton waited until Logan looked up at his brother, holding his gaze. “Do you want it to be a friendship?” he asked gently, knowing the look that was growing in Logan’s eyes.

“…Truth be told, Patton… I do. Virgil…” Logan sighed, unsure how he could ever explain his interest in Virgil if he couldn’t explain the greatest mysteries of the universe, which were far more comprehensible than the mind and soul of his neighbor. “…Virgil is unexplainable. I try to understand him. But I can’t… Am I wrong to want to understand him?”

A ghost of a smile crossed Patton’s lips as he regarded his brother. “No. Not at all.” Patton’s grin turned mischievous. “But date or not, I still get to be excited! You never go out, it’s nice to see you having fun for once.” For once, Logan did not respond to Patton, allowing himself to genuinely grin.

Fun…

It wasn’t a foreign word in his dictionary, but its page wasn’t dog-eared the way other words were. It didn’t have the significance of ebullience (bubbly enthusiasm—it reminded him of his brother), it didn’t have the importance of syzygy (the alignment of celestial bodies—he always found some way to weave it into his lectures), it didn’t roll across his tongue with the same effortlessness of hiraeth (homesickness for a place that never was or cannot be returned to—plus, it tied into his efforts to learn the Welsh language). Fun was not an unknown word, but it was not one mulled over like wine as he pondered his place in the universe.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t reintroduce it to his vocabulary, relearn the way it sounded, the way it felt running along his vocal cords.

Patton could tell what was going through his brother’s mind. He sat back lazily as he ate his breakfast, his smile just barely concealing his pride. “It’s almost nine, by the way,” he added. “You should get ready soon.” Logan nodded, only a little disappointed that they had to end their moment of peace so quickly.

Far too soon, he found himself ready to go, with the exception of a stomach that wouldn’t stop churning. Logan had no idea why he was so nervous—at best, he and Virgil would get coffee and talk without tearing each other’s head apart, and at worst they would just continue their feud like normal. It wasn’t like things going wrong would ruin his life irreversibly—so why did Logan feel the need to impress Virgil, to make things go perfectly?

He pushed those musings to the back of mind for later analysis. He headed outside to be met with the uncomfortable heat he was so used to yet hated all the same. Wearing a black cotton button down did nothing to relieve the suffocating heat against his body. Silently, he cursed the sun as he glanced about, wondering where Virgil was. It hit him that they had never agreed to a specific time. For all Logan knew, Virgil could already by at the coffee shop waiting for him.

Swallowing thickly—he didn’t know why, he had no reason to be nervous—Logan walked over to his neighbor’s house and rapped his knuckles against the door, tapping his foot incessantly as he waited.

The door opened to reveal… not-Virgil. Logan vaguely recalled him as the drunken man who had popped up behind Virgil the first time he had given his neighbors a visit, though he could not remember the man’s name for the life of him. The man yawned, staring at Logan.

“You’re that teacher Virgil’s obsessed with, right?” he asked.

“…Yes?” Logan wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to that, even if his heart did flutter a little bit at it. “Is he inside? We’re supposed to meet at Bourbon Coffee, but he failed to give a time. I thought it would be logical to go with him so we arrive at the same time.”

The man at the door chuckled. “Virgil’s got a date, eh?”

Logan flushed against his will. “Alright—first of all, it is not a date, and second of all, would you please just tell me where he is?” he pleaded. The man nodded with a lopsided grin, glancing behind him.

“He’s still asleep. Probably thought the date would be a late one,” he drawled, laughing at the way Logan grumbled at the continued use of the word “date.” The man stuck out his hand, at last (re)introducing himself. “I’m Roman. Nice to properly meet you.” Logan took his hand politely, shaking it as he tried to be as inconspicuous as possible as he looked inside the house to hopefully see Virgil.

“I’m Logan Guiscard. Pleasure to meet you as well,” he said, biting back his frown when he couldn’t see his enigmatic neighbor. He drew his hand back with an awkward sigh. “Well, please let me know when Virgil wakes. I would rather go with him to the coffee shop than wait for him.” Roman nodded, saying he would, and closed the door to leave Logan standing on the porch with a heavy heart, though he decided it was better not to analyze why he felt disappointed that he wasn’t able to see Virgil.

Logan felt his phone vibrate and saw a text from his brother. Are you there yet? it read. He texted back a quick response, smirking devilishly when a notification from his music service popped up, giving him a positively evil idea. He tapped on the notification, opening the app, and scrolled until he found a song Virgil would adore waking up to.

“Would you mind if I listened to some music while I waited?” Logan asked Roman as innocently as possible. The neighbor shrugged. He bit back his sly grin as he subtly turned his volume all the way, connecting to his speaker, which remained on the porch from their last morning encounter. He pressed play, and let himself smile at last as chaos erupted to the sound of My Chemical Romance’s “Planetary (GO!)”.

The first thing to happen was Roman bursting into laughter as he realized what was happening. The second thing to happen was a series of shouts from inside Virgil’s house. Two people emerged from the shadows—someone Logan had yet to meet, and Virgil. He felt himself smile without thinking at the sight of his neighbor. Virgil’s eyes were hooded and full of exhaustion, bent on the murder of whoever woke him up so early. They cleared upon seeing Logan, lighting up like fireworks, but quickly narrowed as he put two and two together and realized Logan was behind his early wake-up.

“Y’know, if it weren’t for the fact that I love this song, I would be throttling you, you damn player,” Virgil mumbled with a tired laugh. He was murmuring along to the lyrics, holding out a hand to the teacher. “Come on, aren’t you going to dance with me?” For a moment, Logan felt like he had landed on an alien planet, because in no galaxy would this ever happen, but the moment passed as soon Logan realized, foreign planet or not, there was no way he would ever refuse.

He took Virgil’s hand with a sheepish smile, a silent apology for his lack of skill when it came to the aesthetic movement of his awkward limbs. Virgil didn’t seem to mind as they danced—well, to call it dancing would be pushing it. It was more like what Patton had once described as “moshing”, a frantic but energizing thrashing of arms and legs with no regards of what others thought. It was fun. Logan found that he actually liked it—or perhaps it was only because Virgil was dancing with him, and in a few minutes they would be grabbing coffee together like a real couple… of friends.

When at last the song ended, both of them were gasping for air as they laughed like the idiots they were. Logan was grinning so hard it hurt, but he found he didn’t care. I like him. I really like him a lot.

For once, the thought didn’t scare him.

“I’m guessing you want to head to Bourbon Coffee?” Virgil was asking him. Logan nodded wordlessly, unable to speak as he regained his breath. Virgil smiled softly. “I’ll go change, then. I’ve shown up wearing pyjamas too many times, they’ll probably kick me out this time.” Virgil hurried inside to change out of his night clothes, leaving Logan alone with Roman and the new person.

“We haven’t met before, I’m Logan Guiscard,” he introduced, holding out a hand to them. Their eyes flickered over Logan for a moment.

“Desmond Inoni. Call me Dee. You’re the teacher Virgil’s obsessed with,” the man stated cooly, amused as Logan blushed furiously, spluttering incessantly. The teacher was unable to voice his objections further, as Virgil came running out, hopping on one foot as he shoved a black sneaker on. “You two have fun,” Dee called as they set off. Virgil flipped him off playfully over his shoulder as Logan motioned for him to get in the teacher’s car.

In ten minutes, they were sitting down in the cafe with their hot coffee. Logan had gotten a simple black coffee, with about a bucket of added sugar, and Virgil had ordered some complex drink the bartender seemed to have had memorized. They sat in a corner booth by the window, enjoying the company of some calming, though probably fake, spider plants. Logan tried his best to be inconspicuous as he studied Virgil Savage, the mystery himself. He studied the way Virgil bobbed slightly to the cliché electro swing, the way the sunlight lit up the dusk in his eyes, the way his lips curved when he smiled as he spoke about his short-lived endeavor to become a musician to pay his way through college.

“What about you?” Virgil inquired. “How did you pay for college?”

“I won a scholarship by writing about astronomy. Being a teaching assistant helped to pay for the rest,” he explained. “I had to work quite hard to keep my scholarship, so I never had as many chances to make relationships—platonic or otherwise.” He caught Virgil’s gaze as he mumbled, “This is actually the first time I’ve been out with someone besides my brother and his partner…” Virgil’s eyes visibly widened in disbelief.

“Never?!” Logan shook his head, less melancholic than the last time he had mused over the young adulthood he never had. Somehow, sharing his woes with his neighbor lessened their meaning. Virgil took a sip of his drink before continuing, looking out beneath his thick eyelashes. “…I’m glad you thought my company was worthy enough for you, Logan.”

Logan knew he would treasure the way Virgil said his name for eons, forever and ever until the final star burned out and left the universe dark. He would always remember the way his heart skipped a beat, something slotting into place. Even if nothing came of this experience, even if by some reason he never saw Virgil again, even if the world ended right that moment and he was the last being alive, he would know that he had fallen in love with Virgil Savage.

But his neighbor was not meant to be his soulmate. Virgil didn’t love him.

“Logan? You okay?” Virgil was waving his hand in front of his face, worry swimming in his eyes. “You kinda disassociated for a moment. Don’t worry, I do it all the time.” Logan almost chuckled at Virgil’s small blush. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he promised. “Just… glad you think my company is worth an early rise.” Virgil cracked a smile with a huff, shaking his head.

“Don’t think this changes things,” he warned. “I have a whole playlist you’re going to fall asleep to.”

“That would sound adorable and affectionate if I didn’t know what a scoundrel you truly are,” Logan fired back with a smirk of his own. “I promise I’ll have my own songs to share with you in the early morning hours.” Virgil laughed loud enough to draw the attention of other patrons, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

They sat and talked for what must have been hours, trading anecdotes, questions, and life advice. He learned that Virgil had grown up half an hour away in the backwoods of suburbia, that his favorite color was violet, his favorite animal was a bird of paradise because their dances were beautiful and stupid at the same time, that his parents were divorced but were still friends, that his biggest wish as a young, dumb kid was to be an astronaut and die among the stars. In return, he told Virgil about himself, how his mother had died when he was nine but he loved his stepmother just as much, how his adoration of space began when an astronaut came to his school, how his favorite article of clothing was an old baggy sweatshirt from his first year teaching.

Yet all good things must come to an end, and eventually Virgil had to ruefully apologize that he had an appointment he needed to go to, and had to leave.

He watched Virgil leave wistfully, stirring what remained of his coffee with a cheap plastic stick as he let his thoughts wander over mountains and meadows. Somehow, by some chance, he was in love with Virgil Savage.

Even if Virgil never loved him back, he would make sure to cherish him. He would love and he would lose, yes, but he knew it would be better than to love and to imagine what could have been.

The climax to it all came about a week later, after many continued meetups. Virgil had been hinting at some big finale to it all for the past few days, and Logan was both incredibly excited and incredibly terrified of what his neighbor was planning.

It happened on a clear October night, just as Logan was winding down from a particularly tiring day. Patton was packed and ready to leave tomorrow morning, already sleep despite the early evening hour, and as much as his puns and jokes exasperated Logan to no end, he was going to miss his brother.

The teacher was sitting at the dining room table, finishing up reading a student’s paper. He rubbed at his fluttering eyelids, trying to keep himself from falling asleep as he took another sip from his water, determined to have all his papers graded before he went to sleep. He glanced at his watch every few minutes, chastising himself for checking so often as though he were waiting for something, quickly righting his course of focus back to his yet-to-be-graded papers.

He was about to call it a night and resign himself to an early morning finishing yesterday’s work when it happened. Through the window, which he had left open so he could enjoy the sounds of the night, came the telltale beginnings of trouble, a faint rumble Logan had come to recognize as a bassline emanating from his neighbor’s house.

As he began to hear the lyrics, he tipped back his head with a groan that couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be exasperated or amused. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me…” he muttered as he pushed away from the table to stumble to the window and stand bewildered at the apparent absence of life in the Savage household. Not even a bedroom light was on inside, and it seemed either Virgil had fallen asleep to The All-American Rejects, or this was Virgil’s finale. He knew it was the latter.

Sighing, he pushed away from the table with a clatter of his chair. Running a hand through unkempt tangles of hair, Logan all but shoved the door open and walked out into the brisk night, letting the overwhelming intensity of the song wash over him and take all worries of the papers on his kitchen table away from his mind. Then he noticed movement from one of the windows, and Logan knew to prepare himself for an overly dramatic performance that would have cemented his love for his neighbor if the secret space enthusiasm and the wistful eyes hadn’t already done so.

Logan’s hypothesis proved correct when the bridge of the song began, and people poured out of the house, just like in the music video—which he had watched dozens of times, in a long playlist titled “virgil’s favorites -- memorize!!”, because if he was going to be in love with the man, he might as well know more about what he liked.

And, just like in the music video, they began chanting the ever-plaguing verse as Virgil, playing the role of Tyson Ritter, strutted slowly and calmly down the steps to the teacher’s driveway, where Logan was waiting for him, an exasperated smirk greeting his neighbor.

As soon as Virgil was within an earshot, Logan called to him. “Is this your finale, then?” Virgil’s eyes lit up with playfulness as he stood toe to toe with the teacher, his grin bigger than a full moon.

“Was it too predictable for you?” Virgil retorted with a glimmer of affection in his voice.

“Perhaps,” Logan replied in the same dramatic air as Virgil. “Though I’m beginning to think maybe it’s because I’m rubbing off on you.”

“And maybe it’s because I’m letting you rub off on me. Maybe I like it,” Virgil laughed as he stepped but an inch closer. Logan could see the little discolored speckles in Virgil’s eyes now, from how close they were. Almost close enough to kiss, his brain supplied (un)helpfully.

At once, Logan’s entire demeanor changed. They were close enough to kiss, weren’t they? He’d been fantasizing about it on more than one occasion, though Logan always classified them as nothing but. Nothing but fantasies to tuck away for reminiscing. But here, under starlight, with Virgil looking like a Lunar Queen, with those mesmerizing eyes trapping his, those fantasies seemed more like memories.

“Logan,” Virgil whispered. And like that, the spell was broken. Logan broke from his dreaming to hear a silent night once more, the song having ended without his notice. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Virgil beat him to it. “Look up.”

And, oh, wasn’t that a sight.

“I was wondering why you weren’t outside watching the meteor shower, and when I texted Patton, he said you were grading papers. Can you believe it? Missing the coolest thing in the world for a couple of dead trees?” Virgil was saying, his voice soft and gentle as a blanket.

Logan, of course, was too busy looking to hear him.

Not looking at the meteor shower—oh, no, no. As gorgeous as the black-blue-purple swashes of paint across the heavens was, as breath-taking as the falling stars were, as inspiring as the night sky captured in pure happiness was, none of it compared to the beauty he was so enraptured by—the beauty, of course, being the look of pure awe in Virgil’s eyes as he watched the meteors shoot across the sky.

Without thinking, Logan leaned over, and kissed him.

It was brief, but as soon as he pulled away, he said, “I think I love you.” Just to cement it, of course. To make sure Virgil knew.

The man in question stared at Logan, his eyes wide with surprise, and lips parted in an unspoken gasp. Virgil said nothing. He only grabbed the back of Logan’s neck and pulled him for a second, better kiss.

Two shooting stars crossed the sky together above them, as if in love.

[thanksjro]

Eugenesis, Part Four Scene One: A Brief Aside On a Dude Who Was Nothing More Than A One-Off Joke At The Time Of Publishing

We’re starting a new Part, and I’d like to take the time to think about Rung for a moment.

In his singular mention all the way back in Part Two, he was brought up by Soundwave, in which he discussed the eventual fate of Galvatron in relation to his mental health.

This seems to imply that Rung is close enough to Soundwave that he would be able to speak candidly at all. Rung just might be a Decepticon in Eugenesis, and a well-respected one at that. It doesn’t really mean anything, since he’s not so much a character in this story as he is a brief, humorous poke at the history of psychology, but it’s still kind of a neat idea.

Okay, aside over. Let’s get back to the plot, which kicks off on the Ark. Wow, it’s been a minute since we checked in with the Earth Autobots!

Death’s Head is recording his verbal entry log. It’s been slow going on the Ark- something’s wrong with the engines, probably from ramming into the Quintesson warship- and they’ve been in hyperspace for roughly two days now. Death’s Head is bored bored bored. He’s also apparently not great with names.

He’s made a deal with Ultra Magnus, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t sell all of these Autobots out for the right price.

In the background of this little diary entry, Ratchet’s hard at work turning anything that isn’t nailed down into a makeshift medical bay. There are a lot of wounded, so it’s somewhat necessary.

Death’s Head then threatens Rewind with death for sneaking up on him. Rewind, who is actually very small compared to the peacekeeper- yeah, he’s a proper Transformer’s size, I was thinking he was about as tall as a human man- was sent to grab him and bring him back to the bridge. Ultra Magnus is about to make an announcement.

The two head for the bridge, passing by several victims of battle who probably wish they weren’t still functional, to where everyone’s huddled up and trying not to think about how many folks have died.

Are we to believe that there are Autobots out there who would do unsavory things to the dead? Between this and the aftermath of the suicide bombing, the Autobots might want to rethink their recruitment strategy, if they’re attracting this many necrophiles.

Magnus calls for everyone’s attention. They aren’t exactly sure why the Quintessons attacked Autobot City, but seeing how the last time they tried something like this went, they’re heading for Cybertron, to hopefully tip the scale in the Transformers’ favor.

Dang, Mirage, I’d nearly forgotten how much of a dick you were in this. Thanks for reminding me, buddy. Appreciate it.

Then Magnus brings Death’s Head into it, so he can explain what all he saw on Aquaria. Which he does.

Okay, so there’s a Quintesson onboard the Ark. He’s messing with the engine, messing with the comms, planted a tracker for Rodern to find them- just being a genuine menace to the ship. He overhears the announcement on the bridge, and he’s far too happy about it.

Back with the boys on the bridge, where Magnus has suggested something brilliant, if it weren’t going to get every single one of them killed- voluntary systems shutdown, so they can conserve their energy for when they get to Cybertron.

Meanwhile, back on the nightmare hellscape that is Cybertron- I mean New Quintyxia- Jolup’s being a dick to POWs. He stops in front of cell 1220, which holds two Transformers, one with an “A” branded on his forehead? Blitzwing? I dunno. Jolup wishes he could take him Downstairs- another horrifying proper noun- but can’t, because A-grades aren’t allowed.

It wasn’t Blitzwing, by the way.

He notices another, lower-ranked robot acting strangely.

Oh, this better not be who I think it is.

The poor ‘bot’s trying to self-destruct, but it just isn’t happening. The Inhibitor Chip also makes that impossible. They really thought of everything, didn’t they?

It’s fucking Wheelie. Roberts has Wheelie in a concentration camp trying to commit suicide.

Wheelie was a spy on the the Quintesson homeward before it got eaten by the time-rift, so he knows exactly what these guys are capable of in the torture department. Which is why it’s all the more terrible when Jolup choose him to take Downstairs.

Sunstreaker sees this go down from his own cell and starts screaming for Jolup to fight him. He gets really into it.

Really into it.

Jolup, not very much appreciating being spit on, orders for Sunstreaker to be taken to his personal quarters, so he can be taught some manners.

This part of the book isn’t very fun. Not that it’s badly written. It’s just not very fun.

Let’s check in on Prowl.

He’s holed up in First Aid’s office. Everyone else is either getting ready for a fight or trying to break into Rodimus’ room- it’s locked up very well, you see.

Prowl’s trying to figure out just what to do with their braindead Prime. If they let him go, the energon rations saved would assist in the recovery of a dozen troops. However, the Matrix would have to be surgically removed, and their resident medic is currently strung up in the operating theatre, making it look like a Saw franchise Christmas special.

He reflects a bit on the Matrix, and just how ridiculously mysterious it is.

I’ll do a more in-depth analysis of the religion-based critique in Eugenesis later on, in its own post, when I’ve read the entirety of this bloody thing. I feel like there’s enough of it to warrant that.

All that remains of First Aid are the messages he sent Prowl, and he briefly wonders how many other ‘bots are the same, living on through the recorded data in the comms and minds of the Cybertronian race. He doesn’t know if Ratchet and Magnus and Mirage and Bumblebee are alive or dead. We do, but it’s not like we can reach into the narrative and tell ol’ Prowler what’s going on.

Okay, to be fair, I still have no idea if Bumblebee is dead or not. I don’t even know if he’s still stabbed on that ship back on Earth, though my gut tells me he probably is. Poor Bumblebee.

Prowl muses on the nature of time for a bit, in an odd and decidedly not practical meditation on temporal planes, how every moment is continuing on forever. It’s very poetic. Prowl must be very stressed to be thinking in this fashion.

Through the glass of First Aid’s window, he can see more dead piling up in the ward that they’ve chosen to house their bodies.

I mean, yeah, that’s a little narcissistic, but I can kind of see how the stress could get to someone in his position-

Prowl, I’ve about had it with you.

In Prowl’s defense, Kup had started the screaming match I’d covered in Part Three, Scene Seven- which, since we’re on the subject, I should mention that these should really be labeled as Sections instead, but it’s a bit too late for that now. They’d thrown down in the middle of the waiting room, with everyone watching, which certainly didn’t help with Prowl’s standing with the troops. He’s in a bind here. The best option- stay and defend their little bolthole in the AMC- still sucks.

Prowl makes a decision. We aren’t told what it is, only that he makes it.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the AMC, Quark and Rev-Tone are ignoring the military drills, talking. They’re in the part of the AMC that’s still under construction, where it’s dark and dank and creepy, and oh this couldn’t possibly mean anything bad’s going to happen, right? Quark keeps throwing sand at the wall. They talk about how Prowl isn’t fit to lead, how they aren’t sure who really is, how their deaths are looming ever closer.

Quark, you’ve fallen for an idiot, and I’m so sorry for that. Ah, to be young and in love, and also a giant robot! 

Quark throws another handful of sand, and there’s no sound of impact. They go further into the tunnel to investigate.

Not a ton to analyze here, just a lot of set up for shit to go down.