#but it doesn’t make sense if dark arts don’t have an actual use besides /wouldn’t it be fun if we could torture ppl with this/

[the-emeralds-incorrect]

Dark Arts rant, apperently?

I don’t know how this happened but here we go:

Dark Arts classification makes no fucking sense. It’s technically legal according to wiki?? But throughout the whole series we have the “good” characters be viciously against them. Knockturn Alley is a thing but people are scared to go there. Ministry can just raid Malfoy’s house and fine them for having Dark objects in there so it’s not really legal??

One of the most obvious examples of stigma: in the fifth book they just throw away every dark object they don’t like from Grimmauld. But they have to have an actual use because why the fuck would the Black family just store useless trash at their home. The house that they fucking lived in. This shit could be so fucking useful if they just took the time to learn how to use it. Guys you’re going into a war why are u throwing away potentially very lethal useful weapons

They’re classified as magic that can cause harm but Light spells cause harm all the same and are still taught at school. There’s also an entire subject called Defense Against the Dark Arts. The wiki says they’re divided into jinxes, hexes and curses so at Hogwarts they learn at least one Dark spell (the Knockback Jinx) if we’re going by that logic (tho I can be misunderstanding something)?? We know about the unforgivables, but tbh at least for Avada you could find a way to use it ethically, for example in hospitals. It’s painless death. There could be a consent form you can sign that if for example you’re in a vegetative state, or idk a coma for a set amount of time, or just in fucking misery waiting to die, you can do it painlessly. Idk about you but if I was in horrible pain with no chance of recovery I would prefer that

Also the whole “Dark Arts damage the soul/the only defense against them is love” thing Dumbledore is on is just. So much fucking propaganda. I’m not even getting into it

Now we’re going more into speculation territory, but imo Dark Arts are obviously an important part of wizarding culture, seeing how many old families practice it. They have to be at least stigmatized, and partially illegal, at least in terms of dark objects (would that include books?). We all know how dark creatures are treated, ie werewolves/Remus.

but also, like, I genuinely can not believe all dark arts is designed to harm people. why would generations upon generations of those same families devote their entire lives to that. again and again. Don’t they have better things to do?

The Ministry is against dark arts. Hogwarts is against dark arts. Old timey families value it and hold it to a pedestal.

I suspect there’s some form of government regulations. Like, let’s say you’re making a new spell. I don’t think spellcrafting is a job so you’re just a scholar. You create it, it works, you’re happy. How do you share it with people? Maybe you would like it to be taught at Hogwarts, because you think people would generally benefit from knowing it. But to add it to a school curriculum, you need to get it approved. The Ministry handles it. So you go and register the spell. There’s now a list of approved (light) magic tm

And that’s where I think the distinction comes from. If the Ministry approves it, it’s Light. If they don’t, because they consider it harmful, it’s dark and illegal. And it’s put on a list of illegal things, idk. You can be prosecuted if someone catches you casting it

So Dark Arts are the things, spells, potions, etc, which the Ministry disallows the use of. But it’s also all the things that didn’t even try to register themselves. All the magical innovations that went under the radar.

Of course, you still want to share your inventions with people (or you don’t so you keep it hidden and nobody ever knows about it but we’re not talking about these types of cases here). You publish a book, a paper, something. In secret, of course, because it’s illegal, since it’s not on the LightTM list.

And that’s how the old families learn this shit. It’s a secret book club except the books are self published by the members.

So of course, some of it is harmful. Magic tends to be. But some of it is just not approved, and you don’t question why. You just use it.

(Also, Ollivander has a secret deal with all of these families, that for additional galleons, he removes the trace from the kids’ wands. It’s been like that ever since the distinction between Light and Dark magic came to be. They have to keep the business afloat, am I right?)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Late Bloomer 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Peter Parker, Steve Rogers (Professor AU)

Summary: you start your second year of university but as the workload grows more intense, you start to feel your age. (mid-30s reader)

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

Your confidence starts to recover as you show up to your Art Studio class. It’s in the same room as last year and the familiarity makes you feel a little less lost. As it so happens, the professor is also the same as your first. 

Professor Rogers welcomes his class in as he did the year before. He explains that the brushes, paints, and materials in the ‘community garden’. The collection if for those in need and the need is never questioned. Students are encouraged to come take what they need and leave what they don’t. With the cost of materials, it’s a kind concept. You took advantage of it more often than you liked. 

You gently unzip your leather artist’s bag while he begins the lesson. As he reads over the expectations in the syllabus, your eyes meet. He smiles and continues. You still, reluctant to distract him. 

“Last year, you would have gone over 2D concepts and techniques. This year, we will delve into 3D. Every two weeks, you will submit a project. Lessons are Tuesdays in the current slot, but the studio will be open daily for three hours after seven. Whether you work here or in your own space, I expect all work to be on time. Extensions will not be given outside extenuating circumstance.” 

His voice is rigid but you know well he isn’t as strict as he pretends to be. It’s the first day, he has to make a show. Still, you never submitted anything past the due date. Not in this class. 

“I am aware of your other classes and I have not set unrealistic goals alongside those. However, for those who have joined as elective students, you might want to make note of the withdrawal deadline,” he girds. “Now that we’re past the fear mongering, we will start the session. We’re starting standard. Clay. First assignment, molding and shaping, then we will delve into pottery. Basic, you’ll get deeper into techniques if you are enrolled in the subject course itself.” 

His tendency to overexplain can overwhelm but you are reassured by your first year. Rogers wasn’t the worst but he had standards. Besides, this is what you’re here for. This isn’t an elective, this is your major. You like this stuff and that makes it a little easier. 

You delve into the first week. After going through some foundational work, Rogers lets the room fall silent. Most students will have a degree of experience from high school or freshman classes. You aren’t entirely lost yourself. 

Professor Rogers makes a round of the room, stopping to chat with each student. You sense him coming close and knead your clay without much purpose. He stops across from you, just on the other side of the table. 

“You’re back?” He says. 

“Wouldn’t you know, I need more than one course for this dang degree,” you kid. 

“Really? Jeez.” He scoffs as he presses his fingertips to the table, “so, how was your summer? Did you go to the beach?” 

Your eyes flick up to his. You remember last year he wasn’t so... casual? You don’t know how to explain it. His hair is a little less neat and he doesn’t sport his usual button-up. You always made note of his expensive shirts and that he didn’t seem to care about the paint stains. This year, he’s in an open canvas jacket and a plain tee. 

“Yeah, but it was overcast. Didn’t feel like mixing that much grey,” you answer. “What about you? Good summer?” 

He shrugs and smiles. Something about it is stiff, “it was a summer. Taught a few interim classes. Nothing special.” 

“Oh, well, summer is overrated.” 

“Is it? Don’t tell me you’re into all that pumpkin spice?” He sniffs. 

“I’m more into winter. I love snow and hot chocolate. Simple tastes.” 

“Very minimalistic,” he praises. “Well,” he taps the table and drags his hands off, “welcome back.” 

“Thank you, Professor.” 

You refocus on the clay as you consider the various objects up for grabs. You could recreate the broken porcelain figure. It reminds you of ancient Greek ruins. Or you could go simple and claim that large silver spoon. Your indecision has always been your greatest obstacle. 

“Alright, so, from here on, you have the rest of the time to work. You’re welcome to pack up and do it in your own time but I highly recommend staying,” Rogers announces to the room. “I am here for your benefit.” 

The class murmurs back at him. Most keep on what they’re doing while a few fidget and wait only ten minutes before they leave. You would have done the same ten years ago but this isn’t just a checkbox on a list. This is you trying to reshape your whole life. You’re done with waitressing. You’re here to learn, to make this into something real. 

Besides, your roommate is a fan of metal music and it doesn’t do well for your creativity. You don’t hate the music but it’s just not the vibe. You press your fingers into the clay and stare off across the room. Your eyes haze as you fall into thought. 

Cerise texted before you got there that she wanted to meet up after and Primrose gave a staunch thumbs up. You missed them too. You can’t wait to catch up. You can only say so much over texts. 

You smile as you think of them. Your little ragtag trio. Cerise, the youngest, who always manages to get lost wherever she goes and Primrose who only ever knows exactly where she needs to be and what needs to be done. You’re the oldest, the maternal light that keeps the younger from wandering too far and the other from overthinking her coffee order. 

Your vision clears as you sense movement. You blink as you find yourself staring at Professor Rogers. Oops. You give a sheepish smile and put your head down. As much care as you put into others, you often forget yourself. While everyone assumes you have it all figured out, and you would think that you would at your age, you are just another student muddling through to graduation day. 

[lubdubsworld]

物の哀れ ( ‘the sadness of things’.)

Alpha Jungkook x Omega Oc!

Genre : Angst , Hurt/ Comfort.

    Chapter 1  ⋆  Chapter 2  ⋆  Chapter 3     Chapter 4  ⋆  Chapter 5   ⋆   

    Chapter 6   Chapter 7     Chapter 8

Summary : Nine months after her marriage ends, Kim Heejin is a reclusive artist, who works out of a renovated warehouse in Busan, her days and nights spent with canvas and paint. Its exactly what she’s ever wanted, to be left alone. And yet, that nagging feeling of incompletion keeps her on her toes. And perhaps, it is that longing for something substantial, something real that pushes her to give her flawed but lovable ex-husband another chance.

Chapter 9

 “I… No. Just… please tell him I’ll be down…I’ll come down to the lobby to meet him.” I said quickly, panicking at the idea of having him here. I’d barely been here a day but this was still my space. And if I had him here then his scent would just seep into every nook and corner. 

The room would smell like him then… And what would I do after he left?

God, what was I even thinking? Head swimming, I crawled to the edge of the bed and breathed shakily. 

It felt surreal, climbing out of the bed and moving to the vanity . I stared at myself in the mirror as I grabbed the makeup bag I kept with me all the time. Wide eyes and parted lips, creamy gold skin turning lily white because of how the blood had just drained after that phone call. 

I looked petrified .

Jungkook… I thought numbly. Jungkook’s waiting downstairs and I’m going to see him. 

What is he thinking.... What is he feeling... why is he even here? 

You’re not responsible for his emotions, Taehyung’s soothing voice in my head helped a bit but not a whole lot. What about my emotions, I though desperately, grabbing the tube of gloss and slowly uncapping it. I ran the end of it over my lips and felt my fingers tremble because I didn’t know why I felt this need …to look beautiful.

I didn’t need to, I though miserably. Everyone knew omegas were beautiful. Beta supermodels were beautiful yes but they couldn’t hold a candle to me, at least for someone like  Jungkook. He was an alpha, his brain was built to find me attractive. I had evolutionary genetics on my side, which mean that if I ever actually wanted to seduce Jungkook , he wouldn’t really stand a chance .

But I didn’t want that.

I had had enough of that. Enough of seeing handsome, rich alphas being reluctantly attracted to me. They made it obvious too. Most of the hate mail I got stemmed from angry wives or girlfriends accusing me of seducing their men , even though  I’d never so much as laid my eyes on them. It was so unfair. 

I didn’t enjoy watching them lose their minds at the sight and scent of me, because i knew that deep down,  they thought that all omegas were scum. 

Manipulative, sex driven , greedy and selfish . Those were the labels I got plastered with , on the media and on the streets. 

And Jungkook wasn’t different, I reminded myself firmly, pulling away from the mirror and grabbing the loose powder and dusting down some of it on the apple of my cheeks and down the length of my nose. 

He didn’t think any different than the others. Jungkook’s views on omegas were just as archaic and bigoted as everyone else’s .

He just didn’t act on them .

Sighing, I dropped the lipgloss back in the back and brushed my hair off my face. On a whim , I pulled off the hair tie holding the thick strands together, letting the wavy tresses fall over my shoulder. I hadn’t cut my hair in a long time and it felt to my hips now. My stylist was adamant that it added to my aesthetic.

  A primal siren, she had said staring at me in awe, like something eternal and beautifully dangerous. We’re lucky you seem incapable of hate, Heejin ...because I think you could bring grown men to their knees with that body and that face. 

I felt nauseous at the thought of it.   

Walking to the elevator felt like walking the plank and I had stop a couple of times, just to breathe deeply. I had to be smart about this. I was in therapy. Taehyung had taught me how to handle situations like this and while my heart was pounding too hard and my brain was too scrambled to use any of his therapy techniques, I still had some of my cognitive abilities intact. 

He came here, i thought desperately. 

He came looking for you and that means he isn’t nervous or worried or overthinking this because he doesn’t have feelings for you. If you want to come out of this  unscathed, you need to get your head on straight. You need to pretend that you didn’t just have a minor mental breakdown at the thought of him dating someone else. 

I took a deep breath, exhaling sharply before stepping into the elevator. The ride down to the lobby was barely a few seconds and when I stepped out, I realized the place was way too crowded for such an exclusive Hotel. And then I remembered that people were here for the Art Festival. I glanced at the reception desk, covertly, noting a conspicuous lack of Jeon Jungkook. The lady behind the desk held her hand up when she spotted me .

“Ms. Kim? Mr. Jeon just went to get you a drink...He’s over by the breakfast counter over there.” She pointed out the dining space where people were walking about getting breakfast and I swallowed, feeling hot and cold as I cautiously stepped into the crowd, trying to find a that familiar head of thick dark hair. 

I felt the apprehension build as I tugged on my bottom lip between my teeth, trying to reign in the chaos in my mind but it was impossible, everything too loud and too messy. I looked around and then, it hit me. 

His scent. 

I felt my lips part in surprise, and it felt like someone had turned the volume down , noises fading into a dull hum at the back of my mind as I stared at him. He hadn’t spotted me yet and I took a second to just....look.

He looked incredible.

There was really no other word for it. Incredibly handsome, Incredibly beautiful and so incredibly perfect as the late morning sun lit up the room, picking out the shine on his white silk shirt. I breathed in deep, my mindeasily picking out the musky pine scent of him and I stepped closer, moving straight towards him and I caught the exact moment my scent his senses.

He jerked a bit, nostrils flaring and eyes going wide before he turned, lips parted and gaze a bit unfocused as he looked around.

When he caught sight of me, he just blinked. 

I smiled weakly, body going limp with relief because.... because this was Jungkook. Not some monster I had to run from. This was Jungkook....even at his worst he had been better than some of the other people I’d met in life. 

I looked down at the drink in his hand and smiled a bit as he made his way over. 

“ This isn’t the same as buying me a coffee.” I said shakily as he finally stepped upto me.

His eyes danced with warmth. 

“What makes you think I can afford one? Besides, aren’t you the hotshot artist? Shouldn’t you be the one buying me stuff?” He said softly. 

“Just saw you on the front cover of a magazine. We both know you’re far from destitute..” Even through the smile, I felt the tug of emotion as I stared at him, felt the difference in him like night and day, the light and joy and ...contentment that seemed to radiate off him .

He smiled and held the drink out to me gently.

“ Heejin-ah.” He whispered. 

And somehow it was the sound of his voice, wrapping around the syllables of my name that finally did it. 

I felt the tears brim over, my lips parting in choked laughter as I stepped close and wrapped both my arms around him, burying my face in his neck and breathing him in. I felt him hold me, infinitely gentle and I exhaled sharply.

“I didn’t miss you,  at all.” I said shakily. He laughed lightly. 

“I missed you , too.” He stroked the back of my head gently and I sighed, fingers curling on the silk of his shirt. The fabric felt like liquid in my fingers and I played with it for a second, intensely aware that people were starting to stare. That this embrace had gone on for longer than social norms dictated but I couldn’t bring myself to care, letting my chin rest against his shoulder blades. 

And it was almost frightening.....how easy it was to pretend we weren’t broken at all. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She was so small when I last held her... I can’t believe she’s running around.” I said, awed, listening to Jungkook tell me about how Mina liked to climb everywhere. He laughed, shaking his head. 

"She’s growing bigger everyday. I can barely keep up.” Jungkook smiled, holding a hand out for me to step over the wooden slats that lined the tiny archway that led to the door to his building. I hesitated before lightly gripping his hand in mine, the gesture somehow feeling more intimate that it was. 

“You’re not staying at the Firenze?” I asked curiously, resisting the urge to reach for his hand again when he let go.

it was such a ridiculous thing but I’d never held hands with him. And It felt ridiculously nice, to slot my fingers with his, feel them in between mine. His palm against mine, calloused but somehow so comforting. 

 I’d forgotten how warm he was.

 Don’t. Don’t fall down this rabbit hole again, Heejin. We talked about this. He doesn’t think of you that way. He doesn’t. And neither should you. its unfair to him. He doesn’t deserve that. 

“No... As you can see my apartment is barely ten minutes away and Soeun has her exams so its easier for her to watch over Mina here at the apartment.

“Soeun?” I asked curiously.

“Park Soeun? She’s a University student who lives with me. She’s doing a correspondence course in fashion . So she’s home all the time and she helps out with Mina. And she speaks Italian so that’s a huge plus... ” He smiled. “ you’ll like her. She’s a good kid.” 

 Don’t make that face. Don’t fucking make that face, Heejin.

I struggled to keep my face straight , like I wasn’t feeling the weight of a dozen bricks at the base of my stomach. 

“A roommate...then..?” I asked quietly and he shrugged.

“Something like that. But mostly she helps take care of Mina when I’m out on an assignment.” He smiled and led me past two flight of stairs up to the studio apartment. 

I wrapped my arms around myself as he stopped in front of a wrought iron grill, gripping one end and sliding it open with ease. And then he rang the small bell n the side. I shuffled back and forth on my foot, heart racing. 

The door opened and I blinked because of how young the girl who opened the door was. A second later she was beaming, moving forward and wrapping both her arms around me.

“Unnie!” She squealed, hugging me so close that I almost choked. Completely thrown I could only gape at Jungkook who was laughing . 

“Oh, I forgot to mention..she’s a bit of a fan. “ He teased lightly and I smiled awkwardly, watching as she pulled back to stare at me, her gaze trained on my face unblinkingly. 

“Whoa...” She reached out and lightly touched my cheek with her forefinger making me jump. She flinched as well, flushing red.

“Shit..sorry...I just... I’ve never... I’ve never met an omega before.” She said softly. “ You’re absolutely breathtaking.”

I felt my heart pound, steeping back instinctively, an overwhelming urge to hide , anxiety pooling in my stomach as she continued to stare at me. I hated the attention and I wrapped my arms around myself. 

“Soeun, enough. Don’t make it weird.” Jungkook said sternly, voice hard and the girl immediately flushed, bowing apologetically. 

“Sorry...I.. sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable ... You’re pretty.” She said again before turning to Jungkook.

“I have to get some stuff for my exhibit, Jungkook oppa... Mina’s asleep. i’ll be staying over at Vince’s place for the night though. Is that okay?”

“Sure..have fun.” Jungkook smiled, “ Vince is her boyfriend.” He explained and Soeun nodded happily. 

“Italian men are absolutely amazing unnie...you should try some.” She winked and I laughed despite myself.

“I just might...” I said with a grin, watching as she walked over to slip on a pair of sneakers from the small shoe closet near the door. She waved enthusiastically all but bouncing away and I blinked at him , shaking my head.

“I feel a hundred years old right now.” I said softly, still stunned by the girl’s exorbitant energy. Jungkook laughed at that

“She definitely has that effect on people... Come on, I’ll show you around.” He held his hand out and I smiled , taking his fingers mine and letting him tug me further into the studio apartment. 

I looked around, taking in the full blown prints of Mina and Jungkook , caught in adorable poses in front of different tourist spots in Florence. I saw how much she looked like Jungkook now, and how openly affectionate they looked together, the love evident even in the still photos. 

And then my eyes fell on a familiar painting , my stomach lurching. 

“You... “ i turned to him in a rush and he was staring at me with a small smile.

“I had to bring that. It pretty much saved me, that painting.” He said casually, stepping close and running his fingers all over the print. 

“When you told me this is how Sooah saw me...” He traced the picture carefully before glancing at me,” it made me realize that Sooah didn’t just want a baby.....she wanted a baby with  me. She saw me as a father. As someone who could raise and nurture a tiny human  and that... that’s amazing isn’t it?” He sighed, staring at me.  

He looked beautiful, I thought with an ache deep inside me. The most beautiful man I’d ever seen in my life and it seemed almost too good to be true. That he was here, at reach. So close. I wondered if this was it. This had to be a sign. A sign that we’d come full circle. That it was over. That we could finally break free from all that we’d been through, and look back at Jungkook’s past with fondness instead of pain.

And perhaps, just perhaps I could reach out and touch him with something more than just the love you have for a friend. . Perhaps I could reach out and touch him, without feeling guilt and foreboding.

I exhaled shakily stepping up and running my fingers over the canvas. It was nothing fancy... Just a painting a painting of Jungkook holding Mina up by her waist, high over his head, staring up into her face with all the love and adoration in the world, The child in the painting doesn’t look exactly like Mina, of course, but I’d had no idea , seeing as Sooah had commissioned the painting when she was pregnant. But Jungkook.... Jungkook looked exactly like he did now : Happy and at peace. 

“You’re alright, then?” I asked quietly , a wealth of meaning behind the words and he smiled , nodding gently. 

“I’m fine…” He whispered , “ And I’m so glad I can tell you that, like this. Thank you for coming , Heejin-ah . I know you owe me nothing but.. I wanted to show you that… it wasn’t all bad you know. What we went through… Something good did come out of it.” He whispered.

I choked out a sob.

“I lied.” I whispered. “ I did miss you. Even when I knew I shouldn’t.”

Jungkook’s gaze softened.

“I have a lot to be sorry for. But I don’t want to remind you of those things. I just want you to know that… I understand what you went through…those six months. I understand that it was difficult and painful and i… I’m grateful that you didn’t give up on me. And I’m grateful that you stayed in my life.  Because I know I didn’t deserve that.”

“You deserve to be loved Jungkook.” I said quietly. “ Its not wrong to move on. You deserve to… find happiness again.”

He stared at me, his gaze soft and gentle.

“I can almost believe it, when you say it that way.” He laughed. “ And… you know… I’m not sure if its love. But there’s someone I’ve been…. Well, I can sort of see myself with her. .” He grinned a little, smile boyish as he ran his fingers through his hair. He glanced at me and I felt my heart skip a beat.

Wait… was he going to?....

“ I met her at Taehyung’s practice, a year ago. Her name is Lee Hyorin.” Jungkook looked at me, doe eyes shining with excitement.

And just like that the world ended.

Or so it felt.

It was like being dipped in icy cold water, the shock of it rendering me speechless, lips parted and breath catching in lungs.

Blood rushed through my ears, so fast that I felt lightheaded, my legs nearly giving out. White noise filled my skull, pain lancing sharp through my heart like a thousand paper cuts, and I couldn’t really breathe. It took a few seconds…. For my heart to catch up with what my mind had just processed. And when it finally did, the pain was so excruciating, I had to clench my fists, nails digging into the flesh of my palm to ground myself.

“She’s an alpha…and she lost her husband around the same time Sooah passed..” Jungkook gave me a soft smile. “ She’s actually a curator at one of the museums here. She’s the one who made all the arrangements for me to move here to Florence. ”

“Wow… That’s…” devastating,. “ That’s good news. Jungkook.. I.. How long…” My voice cracked, and I had to swallow. “ How long have you guys been dating?”

“About three months now. We’re taking it very slow, because we aren’t really ready. She has a son too. He’s three years old. Mina loves him so that’s a plus.” He laughed.

My lungs constricted, breathing difficult and my head swam because ….. what. Realization set in so quickly, I was left reeling. I was in love with this bastard, I thought miserably. So in love with him that it felt like he was shredding my heart into ribbons. Every word of his mouth felt like a sharp deep stab, straight through the center of my heart and the pulsing, beating organ was on the verge of giving out.

“She’s going to be there at the dinner tonight at the Festival. She’s one of the organizers by the way. She’s kind of the reason I got in, I think.” He laughed , looking abashed and what a load of bull that was. Jungkook was successful and well known. Superbly talented at his chosen field. She was lucky to have him.

How can she have him when I’m the one who fixed him? How is that fucking fair?

“She really understands the things I’ve been going through, the past few months and because we both still attend therapy with Taehyung, we’re able to talk about a lot of stuff. Stuff I can’t share with others…” Jungkook was saying and I tuned him out, not wanting to hear another word.

I swallowed, choking on bile. I could feel sweat gathering on my scalp, my skin clammy and damp , the air between us shifting into something poisonous and filled with so much dismay, it was a miracle he hadn’t picked up on it.

Couldn’t he sense how distressed I was? Couldn’t he see how his words were hurting? Couldn’t he fucking see that I couldn’t live without him? Why on earth couldn’t he see me the way he apparently saw every other woman on the damn planet…..

Because he’s a shitty Alpha, I thought miserably, willing myself not to burst into tears. He was a shitty excuse for an alpha back then and he’s the same now.

A low, distressed cry began somewhere behind him and he jumped.

“Oh, shit she’s up… come on, Heejin.” He said with a bright smile, turning around and rushing down a small hallway and I willed myself to breathe in deeply, reminding myself that this wasn’t the end of the world. I could get through this. Besides, it was Mina.

Beautiful, perfect Mina who had been there for me. She would see me and she would give me that sweet gummy smile of hers, does eyes twinkling and I would get through this. Because her smile was what was important. Her smile and her joy and her happiness.

The sobbing had slowed down to small hiccups and I stepped past the threshold cautiously, watching as Jungkook bent over the large crib, carefully lifting her out and into his arms. She looked breathtaking, an absolutely gorgeous little girl . I stared, mesmerized as I stepped closer. My arms ached, and my chest tightened. Lips wobbling, I exhaled sharply, moving to reach for her.

She turned to glance at me and just as my fingers brushed her cheek, she recoiled.

Hard.

A loud wail tore through her tiny body and I felt my eyes go wide. Her casual little cry had turned into a sobbing , loud wail and I could smell the distress in her , the fear and distrust as she curled away from me.  Jungkook looked stunned as well, instinctively drawing her close and embracing her, moving away from me because….

Because I was the reason, she was distressed.  

My skin went ice cold at the revelation and I stumbled back, stunned.

“I… I’m sorry.” I choked out, confused and disoriented. Jungkook looked stricken, gently rocking her back and forth and she clung to him, gripping his shirt and I bit my lips, moving further back and I glanced at him, my heart shattering.

“She’s …She’s still sleepy… She doesn’t do well with strangers…” He said softly, looking upset, “ Maybe you could…wait outside…”

Stranger…. Was that what I was?

“I… I’ll go. I’ll just go.” I turned on my heel, rushing out of the door and struggling to breathe in air, my heart clenching so hard I was sure I was going to pass out. I felt my knees give out when I reached the couch, dropping down and drawing my knees up , wrapping my arms around my legs . I didn’t know how long I sat there, fighting sobs and choking on air…and when I finally came to myself, the sobs from the room had died out.

“She’s fallen asleep again.” Jungkook’s voice cut through the silence and I couldn’t bring myself to look up. I felt him move closer, felt his scent hit me as he stepped right up to me, kneeling on the floor in front of me.

I looked up at him, lips wobbling as I took in his handsome face.  A face that was so deeply carved into my heart and my soul, I couldn’t imagine living without it. Without him. The tears came then, helpless and endless and so painful.

He pressed in closer, cupping my face in his palms, thumb brushing the tears that spilled over so relentlessly.

“Heejin…” He whispered and I let my fingers curl around his wrist as his thumb kept brushing the curve of my cheeks. I took a deep , shaky breath .

“She doesn’t remember me….  “ I whispered, “ She doesn’t recognize me at all…She hates me……” I choked out , despair filling every last crevice of my insides, gut twisting as I remembered how Mina had twisted away from me, how her scent had soured in distress at the sight of me, at the touch of my fingers.

 And I wondered if it was different with this other woman..Hyorin, wasn’t it? Did Mina climb into her arms with ease? Did she curl into her chest and sleep? The way she used to with me,  when she was a month old and missing the warmth of a mother.. ….

All those nights spent in that tiny nursery, lying on the cold unforgiving floor, watching the rise and fall of Mina’s chest through the dark room…telling myself it was worth it… it was worth being touched against my will, worth being treated like filth by a man driven mad with grief and anger….all because of this baby…this tiny little baby who had needed me….

And now…she didn’t even know who I was…..worse…she was repulsed by the very sight of me… I couldn’t cope.

“Look at me…” Jungkook rasped, voice raw and cracking. “she doesn’t hate you, Heejin… she just … you feel new to her… different…” 

I shook my head, unable to think about anything beyond the sheer devastation that filled me, the way his daughter had pulled away and run, had refused to come anywhere near me. I realized with lancing pain that I’d wanted to see her, way more than I’d wanted to see Jungkook .

Because she was the reason I’d hung on for so long in that marriage which had been the biggest fucking mistake of my life…. the only reason I’d stuck around . Mina …Having her in my arms, her scent against my face, that had been the only genuine happiness I’d experienced  in a marriage filled with sheer , unending misery. 

“I… she… Why doesn’t she remember? “ I breathed, sagging into his arms, tears soaking his shoulders and his palm ran up and down my back.

“Because she was a baby. Heejin…. I left when she was a baby…”

“Why did you?” I snapped. “ Did it hurt you so much? The thought of living under the same sky as me ? Why you did you go?” I demanded.

Jungkook pulled back, hands coming up to grip my shoulder, holding me at arms length.

“Look at me.” He whispered. “ I had to … You know I had to go….I was hurting you. I was… I was draining you of life. Destroying you… “

Jungkook’s words reminded me of who he was. Of who I was… Of who I was to him.

I choked out, sobbing.

“I hate you. You treated me like scum. Like a crutch….. Like some sort of tool to get better and you just left… you…”

You found someone better. You broke me down and now you’ve gone and found someone better….because I was never good enough for you… I was never someone you could love….

“I had to let you go. I had to end that relationship because it was tainted with so much grief and anger and selfishness and greed. I knew that anything I did afterwards would be tainted by my actions… I… I had to make amends, Heejin. And do you think for a second, that it wasn’t the hardest thing I ever did? That walking out on you wasn’t one of the most devastating things I’ve ever experienced? But I did it for us… for this…” 

I stared at him.

“And what is this?” I asked brokenly.

“This is me, being able to touch you like this.” Jungkook pressed a palm to my cheek, “ And not feeling guilt or sadness or grief or loss.  I did it so we could have this…this… This thing where I can look at you and hold you and see that you’re healing. That you’re doing better… That you’re living the life you want…. That you’re happy. This is me standing here , in front of you and smiling because I’m happy too. Happy that you’re here.  ” He exhaled, “ I’m happy that despite all the hurt we’ve been through for and because of each other, I can look at you now and tell you, honestly, that I’m glad to see you.” 

What a joke.. What a fucking joke.

I smiled shakily.

“Well… “ I said softly, my stomach churning because I was done. Done with him and mostly with myself. “ Isn’t that absolutely wonderful.”

His gaze softened and he smiled.

“I want us to be friends, Heejinah. Even though we don’t see or talk to each other, I think of you often. And when Mina’s old enough to understand , I’ll tell her all about you… I want you in our lives. You’re a friend. ”

I stared at him , feeling the words echo in my skull . It left an acrid taste on my senses, the way he put me into this neat little box, friend. So ….insignificant. Everyone had hundreds of friends. There was nothing even remotely special about being someone’s friend.

Friend just meant replaceable and forgettable. And just like Mina didn’t remember me…. Someday Jungkook wouldn’t either. The knowledge filled my veins spreading all over my body and leaving a fierce, heavy ache in my chest.

It was my fault, I thought despondently. My fault because I had been an idiot.

Jungkook was the sane one here , I thought miserably. These nine months, while I’d been dwelling on him and worrying for him…he had done the healthy thing , by moving on with someone he could actually envision a future with….

What had I done, these past nine months? Dreamt up a fantasy world where somehow we found our way back to each other and built a life together… It seemed so foolish now, in the light of Jungkook’s words and his confession….

Jungkook had done all of this, not for me…but for himself. For his daughter whom he loved and for his wife , whose memory he wanted to honor. And perhaps it was my own delusion that made me think that I’d played some stellar role in his healing…. Maybe if I hadn’t been there, he would have gotten better just the same…. Maybe I hadn’t been a tool …as much as a hindrance …to his healing.

I shook my head, bitterness coating my tongue.

“I should get going.” I whispered , voice shaking.

This is it, I told myself. This is the last time you look at him with that heaviness in your heart. You deserve better. You deserve… a lot of things. And just because people don’t give it to you doesn’t mean you have to settle for less……

“So soon? Hyorin will be back in a couple of hours… I could show you some of my work, and we could get lunch ….”

I shook my head quickly. I didn’t want to meet her in his home. Didn’t want to see him being domestic and affectionate and …normal with her when all I’d ever seen was Jungkook in his anger and grief, either yelling abuses or gripping me with a lust that was tainted with violence and rage. I stared at his hands, the ones I’d liked holding….

How did I forget? That those were the same hands that had held me down and done things that should, rightfully have landed him in prison?

I shook my head, to clear the images out of my head. Looking at him now,  Jungkook looked eager, happy and healed. And I realized that he’d just pushed all of his own actions out of his mind. Forgotten all about it. And that was fair. He probably didn’t even remember any of it. He had been drunk out of his mind, lost in his head and surely, forgetting must’ve been easy… A relief.

I didn’t begrudge him that.

But…

I hadn’t been drunk. I’d been stone cold sober under him on that bed and so, maybe forgetting didn’t come that easily for me. And I was glad that Jungkook could move on and be happy but….

But I couldn’t stay here and pretend that it was the same for me. I wasn’t happy or healed, I thought miserably. And maybe , maybe the sight of him moving on was a sign that I had to stop thinking that healing meant going back to him and his daughter.

“Heejin… What’s wrong? Is it because of Mina.. she’s just not used to…” He began but I quickly pressed a palm to his chest, smiling.

“Strangers.” I said softly. “ I know. That’s not it… You know I have to introduce my exhibit at dinner tonight. I don’t know what the itinerary is or what I’m supposed to say…. None of it.. I need to meet my agent and prep myself a bit. Its alright…I’ll see you tonight.” I said softly.

“I’m sorry… I can’t walk you back because Mina-“

“Of course. Don’t worry about it…. I’ll just…”

The doorbell rang, startling me.

“Jungkook!” A strong voice called out and I went still.

“Hyorin?” Jungkook’s face lit up and I felt my stomach churn. God, the universe really was against me wasn’t it? Sighing in defeat, I wrapped my arms around myself, sitting back down on the couch and waiting.

Behind me , I could hear hushed whispers, soft laughter and shuffling feet. My mouth went dry.

“Ms. Kim….”

I turned around, greeted by the sight of a tall, strapping young woman, pretty by any standards. She was dressed in a pant suit , her hair long and straight, hitting the top of her shoulders. She looked smart… Important.

“Ms. Lee… Its nice to meet you.”

She held her hand out and I shook it gently.  Jungkook smiled at her fondly and his phone rang from somewhere inside the studio.

“Hang on that’s probably Soeun…” He smiled at me and moved away and I watched him leave before shifting my gaze to Hyorin, who was staring down at me with a small smile.

“Are you here in Italy by yourself? Or with one of your many …uh… patrons ?” She smirked.

I blinked.

“Patrons?” I asked softly. “ Excuse me?”

“Jungkook and I’ve been following all the stories about you, back in Korea. You get around quite a lot… don’t you? Every alpha within a 100 mile radius wants a piece of the lovely Kim Heejin… And honestly, could anyone blame them? You look exquisite.”

I stared at her, stunned. The implication was so obvious that I would be an idiot not to realize what she was hinting at. So this was the woman , Jungkook chose? Yet another prejudiced bigot?

I laughed a bit, feeling my heart sink.

“I’m not seeing anyone. If that’s what you’re asking.” I said quietly.

Hyorin smirked at that.

“Of course you aren’t… We all know that isn’t really something your kind does… monogamy, right?”

“Do you have a problem with me Hyorin ssi?” I asked roughly and she laughed.

“Oh come on.. we’re all adults, here. And Heejin, you  agreed to be a part of this festival, knowing full well, that’s what we think . Its because deep down you know I’m right….. Omegas can’t stay with one alpha. They need sex to survive and they are usually open to it with anyone. Not that I’m blaming you or judging you for it. It’s just how you’re built.”

I smiled wide, ignoring the urge to claw at her face. .

“Well, you’ve definitely got me all figured out haven’t you? “ I shook my head, glancing at Jungkook who was making his way over.

“What are you talking about?” He asked curiously and I smiled, glancing at her.

“ Hyorin ssi was just telling me how my sub gender makes it impossible for me to not go around whoring with every alpha I see…….” I glanced at him and Jungkook straightened, looking stunned, “ Well, I hope you two enjoy your beautiful monogamous relationship with each other something an omega like me can only fantasize about…. Right Jungkook?” I smiled and he looked completely lost.

“Wait…What? Hyorin what did you say?” He demanded and she was glaring at me now.

“Please don’t take it personally, I was only talking about omegas in general. “ Hyorin frowned, before bowing and moving away to stalk off in the direction of the bedrooms and I watched her, feeling dirty and terrible.

“Heejin, ignore her.. she’s just old fashioned and-“

“Is that what you’re going to call it?” I snapped and Jungkook froze.

“Heejin…”

I shook my head in disbelief.

“I’m not upset about what she said. I’m upset that she feels comfortable enough, spouting that bullshit to me , in your house. Makes me wonder what else she’s told you about omegas, and how much of it you probably agreed with.”

Jungkook stared at me , lips parted.

“I… I don’t feel that way. You know that.” He said stiltedly.

“Do I? All I know is that she knows about me, about who I am and apparently, she can call me a slut…. In front of you, without worrying about it upsetting you. And that tells me you’re as much of a bigot as she is.”

“Heejin… You know that’s not it. We all grow up being fed certain things and –“

“But you did grow up right?” I snapped. “ you grew up and you can think and act for yourself. As can she. Once you’re an adult, you don’t have a single fucking excuse for being racist or homophobic or bigoted because being an adult means having the ability to unlearn the toxic things you’ve been taught and relearn how to be a decent fucking human.”

I shook my head as he stared at me.

“And you know what…please just… just don’t call me or consider me as a friend.” I laughed. “ Because I don’t think I can consider you one. Not anymore. You can’t…...You can’t just love certain parts of me and be disgusted by others you know? I don’t need a friend who can care about me and love me and help me as long as he can forget that I’m an omega….. I need a friend who can love every jagged, broken , part of me. Who can call out people who talk bullshit at me , who can look someone in the eye and tell them they’re wrong when they’re calling me names  and that’s not who you are……. You’re not it.” I snapped.

Jungkook looked stricken, reaching out to hold me and I stepped away, annoyed.

“I’m sorry, Heejin, you’re right … I’ll talk to her… I’ll…” He began but I shook my head.

“Whatever.  Just don’t call me a friend. We can’t be friends. Let’s just be what we always were , yeah? A big fucking mistake that never should have happened.”

I stormed out of the door, shaking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean, there are no flights available for today?” I snapped. “Tell them money isn’t an issue. I need to get out of this place right now.”

Minho looked incredibly stricken, hair messy from how often he’d run his fingers through.

“ We just arrived seven hours ago, Hee. Of course there’s no flight yet…. We can stay another day…attend the dinner and-“

“No.” I snapped. “ Absolutely not. I’m not here because they find my art good  or worth putting up. I’m here because they know the alphas around here will want to pay more , to pour in more cash for a chance with me.” I held the embossed booklet up, waving it in his face.

“Heejin…” He protested but I shook my head.

“ Did you see the cost to get into my pane ?. Extra ….for alphas? And yet…apparently they had to pre book it and its filled? You think any of the lecherous bastards who paid money to see me , gives a shit about my art?  And apparently, there’s a meet and greet, for alphas only if they purchase seven or more paintings worth over 10000 Euros. Do you think, that’s what I’m worth?”

Minho looked down at his shoes, ashamed.

“I .. I’m sorry, Hee. You’re right. Its offensive . And an insult to your art and talent. We shouldn’t have come here, you’re right. And I regret it… But just… give me a few hours, yeah? I’ll find a way to get us out of here….”

I exhaled sharply, exhaustion weighing heavy on my head. I felt like I’d taken a pounding, physically and mentally and I wondered how a day that had started so well, could go so wrong, so fast…

Shaking my head, I trudged wearily to the elevator, knocking on the buttons before sagging against the wall, letting my eyes flutter shut.

Jungkook was dating.

Jungkook was dating. His girlfriend thought I was a slut and here I was about to prove her right.

I wanted to slit someone’s throat.

Sighing, I watched the door slide open, grabbing my keys out of my bag,  and moving to the suite. I opened the door before making a beeline for the bed. I collapsed on the soft duvet, groaning. I was torn between wanting to call Taehyung to yell at him about Jungkook and calling Minho to demand an update on the flights.

I was spared the dilemma when the phone in the room rang. Groaning, I moved to swat at the phone, turning on the speaker.

“Ms. Kim? There’s a Mr. Jeon here to see you?”

I blinked, feeling disbelief swell inside me. Did he not get the hint?

Annoyed, I sat up.

“Send him up.” I said, in no mood to go all the way down to see him.

“Up?” She sounded surprised, “ To your room?”

“Yes. To my room. Is that a fucking problem?” I growled, annoyed.

“Not at all Ms. Kim. He’ll be right up.”

I got out of bed, shrugging off my jacket and taking off my dress as well. It was a little damp because I’d sweated through the fabric. I grabbed one of my oversized t shirts , slipping it on and moving to open the door before retreating back to the inner room. Feeling annoyed, I walked up to the vanity and grabbed the hair brush, running the bristles through my locks. I heard his footsteps outside and stiffened.

“If you’re here to defend your shitty girlfriend, you can just leave Jungkook. I swear to God, I’ve had enough of this.” I shouted. He didn’t reply and my hackles rose.

“Listen, I’m sorry if I said something harsh-“ I froze when I reached the doorway, staring at the man in front of me. He had a large , almost humongous bouquet of wild orchids and roses in his hand and I stared at his face.  

This was definitely not Jungkook.

“Umm… hi.” The man bowed awkwardly, his gaze going straight to my legs, where my t shirt ended, just a couple of inches past my waist. I felt the blood rush to my face.

“Who are you…Get out !!!” I shouted, horrified, diving for my jacket and holding it up against my bare thighs. The man held both his hands up, eyes wide..

“I’m sorry… I… you said I could come up to your room….” He protested and I scowled, confused.

“What? “ I stared, stunned… “ Who…what?”

“I’m Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo. I’m uh….one of the sponsors for this festival. And a fan. Huge fan.” He was staring at me beseechingly and I felt my head begin to throb.

The sheer relentlessness of this day…..

“I… Mr. Jeon…” So weird, God, “ There’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not…. I thought you were someone else.”

“Jungkook yes…your ex husband, right? You were married to him for six months after he lost his wife….. He’s also one of the artists exhibiting their work here.” He nodded quickly, running long fingers through thick glossy hair, lips parting in a hesitant smile and I stared at him.

“How do you know all that? ” I demanded, heart pounding. He immediately held his hands up again.

“I’m sorry… I sound like a stalker, shit. But Trust me I’m not. I just am a huge fan.. I looked up some stuff about you….before.” He shuffled a bit awkwardly, finally looking up at me.

I tried to catch his scent. No scent to speak of. A beta then. Relaxing just a bit, I swallowed. At least I wasn’t in any immediate danger. But still, I had no intention of letting him see me in nothing but a t shirt. Embarrassed, I gripped the jacket tighter.

“Why are you here?” I demanded angrily, taking in his appearance. He didn’t look like a hoodlum or someone dangerous. He was good looking, dressed in a white t shirt and black Jacket over plain black slacks. His shoes looked expensive and I didn’t miss the shiny Rolex on his wrist either,.

“Well, for one thing I own the Hotel.” He chuckled and that made my stomach turn. “And also like I said, I’m one of the main sponsors for the Festival itself.”

“Right.” I was too disoriented to process this, head throbbing. “Of course. Is there a reason why you wanted to see me?”

“I was downstairs…just now… I couldn’t help but overhear you with your agent. You wanted to leave as soon as possible. To pull out of the event and I’m just here to try and change your mind, Ms. Kim.” He smiled earnestly and I realized he was really quite young.

I sighed.

“Could you… Could you wait outside? I want to put some clothes on before we talk any further.” I said tiredly and he bowed quickly.

“Uh… These…I’ll just leave these here.” He placed the large bunch of flowers on the table before quickly leaving the room and I swore, racing to the suitcase in the corner. I quickly grabbed a pair of jeans, slipping them on hastily and zipping myself up before glancing at the mirror again. This would have to do.

I moved to the door and opened it, finding him right there, looking lost.

“I… come in, please.” I said hesitantly and he bowed again, moving in and waiting for me to close the door and take a seat on the couch, before sinking into an arm chair across from me.

“Did you see the itinerary? It doesn’t get more sexualized than this.” I waved the booklet and he flushed.

“I understand you’re upset about … certain things. I’m sorry that you feel objectified , in the festival. It wasn’t the intention I had when I first told Hyorin and the others that I wanted them to invite you. But , I’ve been busy the past month, and I didn’t go over the complete agenda. If I did, I definitely would have made sure that you were treated with just as much respect as the others. Unfortunately, there’s not much I can do now, but I’ve had a word with all of the panelists and also the hosts. We won’t entertain any question or comments of a sexual nature and if anyone tries to insinuate anything , I’ll have them removed from the panel myself. “ He said firmly.

“I’m only here because you told me you would exhibit my mother’s works too.” I said sharply and he bowed.

“ Your mother’s works are just as exquisite and I’ve arranged for them to be displayed right at the center of the arena, with a running slide show of her childhood , her art technique and the great love she had for her daughter.” He said firmly.

I could only stare. He sounded incredibly sincere and there was no mistaking the earnestness in his tone.

“I’m….” I bit my lips, “  Listen, Mr. Jeon, I’m flattered but honestly, I never wanted to be here. I… there was … something else that made me want to come and well, that turned out to be a huge mistake. To be honest, I’m not sure if I have it in me to suffer through days of people treating me like I’m some kind of sex crazed bimbo.” I shook my head.

“how about this.? You let me be your date for tonight and you let me display your work, today at the dinner itself. I’ll be right by your side. And then, I’ll have my private jet on standby and we can fly back to Korea. You deserve the spotlight, Heejin and I want people to see how good you are at what you do. I don’t care if I lose money over this… As long as you’re comfortable. ”

I gawked at him, stunned.

“Private Jet?” I choked out. “ Okay, now I’m genuinely concerned.”

He laughed.

“I’m a Hotelier, and I have properties all over the world and I like to inspect them personally most of the time. Its more practical to have a private jet than to try and align my schedules with everyone else.” He smiled.

“Right. Convenient.” I shook my head. “ I’m no stranger to excessive wealth, Mr. Jeon and trust me, it’s always left a  sour taste in my mouth.”

“I don’t flaunt my wealth, Ms. Kim. These clothes? Got them on the streets of Florence. I drive a Mazda. Wealth has no meaning to me. People do. People like you, who bring beauty into the world with their craft. You’ve made my world beautiful and I just want to repay , in some way.” He smiled,  “ Also,  You’re very  beautiful.” He added and then immediately looked away. “ I’m sorry. That was… dumb . I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”

Endeared against my own wishes, I found myself fighting a small smile.

“Just tonight’s dinner?” I asked quietly.

“Just the dinner party.” He assured me quickly.

“Alright. But I’m not getting into any private Jet. My agent will book me tickets and I’ll find my way back to Korea.”

“As you wish. I’ll pick you up at seven. What color is your dress?” He asked casually and I blinked.

“Uh… Wine red? I guess? Why?”

He grinned, looking boyishly handsome.

“I’ll see you at seven, Ms. Kim.”

He bowed, before pausing by the bouquet. He grabbed a couple of  flowers, holding them up for me to see.  

“Daffodils and Lilacs.” He grinned, “ To finding something new to love. And to new beginnings.”

Wow.

Subtle.

I shook my head, momentarily forgetting all about Jungkook as I grinned all the way back to the bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I told you… coming with me will earn you major points.” Wonwoo smirked as he pulled me in by my waist , holding my dress up for me as I stared at the sleek black limousine at the Hotel entrance. I watched as he held my wrist gently, latching a string of sterling silver and red rubies around the delicate curve of it.

“This is too lavish…I don’t want this…Who are you?” I demanded, flushing because of the way the flashes went off in every direction, reporters scrambling when they caught sight of him. He was clearly popular, if the number of photos being clicked were any indication. I regretted everything.

Wonwoo pressed a kiss to my wrists, right near the bracelet and gently placed my palm on the curve of his elbow, leading me over to the car and I watched the chauffeur open the door for us.  

“ Someone who can get anyone here fired. Be careful , sweetheart.” I watched in mute horror as he bent low, picking up the hem of my skirt so I wouldn’t trip, while climbing into the limousine. The reporters began whispering excitedly and more flashes went off . My face completely red, I hastened to climb in.

“These people look at you like you’re some kind of King.” I stared out of the tinted windows seeing the sheer multitude of people and Wonwoo chuckled.

“ That’s because I am. At least for tonight. And that’s why I’m the perfect guy to protect you Heejin. They’re all terrified of me.” He winked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook found me, fifteen minutes into the event. I hung by the large archway, near an alcove, sipping champagne and nibbling on some hors d’oeuvre as people threw glances at me. I noticed the conspicuous lack of a date on his arm and straightened, sighing and bracing myself for more unpleasantness as he picked his way through the crowd, eyes trained on me.

“Can we talk?” He said, the minute he was at hearing distance and I exhaled.

“No.” I said casually and he made a noise of impatience.

“Fucking, hell Heejin..just…” He swore again, looking upset. “ Why are you doing this to me? What do you want from me huh?”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“What do I want from you? Oh, fuck off Jungkook. I want nothing from you.” I snapped, turning on my heel, ready to leave but his hand shot out, gripping me right above my elbow, fingers curling in hard.

“Fuck.. listen. I don’t know what she said to you. I .. I’m sorry if she offended you…. Alright? She’s an alpha… I can’t change the way she thinks…”

“I didn’t ask you to. I merely said that if you associate yourself with people who think I’m scum, I won’t let you into my life. Because I respect myself too much for that.” I said firmly.

“She doesn’t think you’re scum, Heejin come on. She just has some misconceptions about certain things.”

“God, Jungkook…just stop. Alright? Stop. Because I’m not asking you do anything. I’m leaving on a flight tomorrow morning and you’ll never see me again. That’s all there is to it.”

He froze at that, fingers curling harder around my arm and it hurt, the skin turning red. Stupid fucker, never knew his own strength.

“Ow, Jungkook let go.” I whispered, and he did, albeit reluctantly.

I rubbed at the bruised skin, furious. I watched as the redness healed over, the pain fading to a throb and then into a pleasant heat and I hated it. Hated that being an omega meant that Jungkook’s rough touch turned to pleasure on my skin.

“What do you mean you’re leaving tomorrow? The Festival is for two weeks.”

I sighed.

“I didn’t come here for the festival. I came here to see you. To see if you were as hung up on me as I was on you…but apparently not.” I snapped.

Jungkook went perfectly still at that.

“What the fuck does that mean?” He said softly and I laughed, shaking my head.

“Wow. You really never even considered it huh? Us? Together.?” It wasn’t funny at all, but I could only laugh. Probably because I’d been so sure.. So certain that there was something there.

He opened his mouth to answer but I felt a warm solidness behind me, an arm wrapping around my waist and a second later, Wonwoo was there pressing up against me.

“Jungkook-ssi… Such a pleasure to meet you.” He held his hand out, and Jungkook frowned, his eyes trained on where wonwoo’s fingers curled around my waist.

“Get your hands off her.” He said shortly and Wonwoo blinked, pulling away from me and stepping back .

“What the-? No. Fuck you.” I snapped, glaring at Jungkook before grabbing Wonwoo’s hand and bringing it back around me. “Don’t you fucking dare take your hands off.” I held my finger up at his face and Wonwoo looked momentarily stunned.

“Really, Heejin? You’re doing this?” Jungkook glared at me. “ We need to talk.”

“So talk.” I snapped. “ Tell me why you think a bigoted bitch is the best you can do in terms of dating. Tell me why she’s the only one who can ‘ understand’ “ I made air quotes, shaking my head, “ You think you and your shitty have monopoly on grief Jungkook? I’ve lost people too. Just because I haven’t screwed other people over because of it, doesn’t make my grief invalid….yeah.”

Ringing silence followed and I regretted everything.

“Fuck.” I whispered, shaking my head. “ I .. Shit. I need to get out of here.”

I pulled away from Wonwoo, moving out of the huge ballroom and Jungkook was right behind me, of course he was.

“Heejin…fuck. Wait. You’re right. I didn’t mean to imply that you didn’t understand me. Of course you did. Its why you stuck around… I know that. And you’re right, she had no business talking about you like that. I’ll have a word with her… But…”

I sped up, wanting to get away but he grabbed me again, tugging me closer out of the hall way and into a darkened alcove and I flinched when he pushed me up against the wall, caging me in, as he pressed in closer.

“What did you mean by that?” He demanded, hands coming up to grip my waist, curling gently and my chest heaved at the touch of him, the enclosed space making his scent turn potent, strong and impossible to avoid. My nostril flared as I breathed him in, familiar and yet so foreign, comforting and yet so fucking dangerous.

“By what?” I snapped and his hands moved up, shaping the curves of my body , thumb grazing the tip of my breast and making me jump, before moving up, gripping my face, gently. He pressed his thumb into my lower lip, rubbing back and forth, face impossibly close and I swallowed, throat sandpaper dry.

“About us? Together….” He breathed and I exhaled shakily.

“You know what I meant.” I whispered. “ If you don’t then I can’t explain it.” I whispered and he swore, head dropping against mine, forehead resting against mine, and lips less than a hairsbreadth away.

We’ve never kissed, I thought suddenly. I licked my lips, turning my face away but his fingers gripped my chin at once, yanking me around to stare at him again.

“Look at me, baby. Tell me… You thought about us together?” He whispered .

I breathed shakily.

“Of course I did…. “ I snapped.

“Then clearly therapy isn’t working for you.” He snapped right back and I flinched.

“What-“

Jungkook pulled away staring at me.

“ Do you even remember all the shit I did to you?” He asked quietly. My stomach dropped.

“Jungkook.”

“I broke your ribs.” He said calmly. I swallowed.

“That.. That was an accident. You didn’t mean to.” I protested. “ And we’re past all that… I don’t… I don’t blame you for it.” I said, which was honest enough.

“And what about the nights I got drunk, Heejin….” He said softly and my skin went cold.

“That… That was just… It was just an outlet for your grief… “ I looked away and he scoffed.

“You’re calling it an outlet for grief. I believe the world calls it rape.”

I felt my entire body shiver at the word , moving up to wrap my arms around his neck, trying to pull him close but he was stiff as a board.

“ Don’t” I snapped. “ Don’t …. Its over…it’s in the past.”

“It was still me. I was the one who did it and I can’t… I can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

I pulled away to glare at him.

“So , what? You won’t give us a chance because of something I’ve already forgiven you for?”

“Yes.” He said shortly. “ Because you may have forgiven me, but I haven’t forgiven myself.”

I felt my body sag in disbelief.

“Jungkook that’s-“

“You deserve better. You always have. I’m not… I don’t deserve someone like you Heejin. You’re kind and breathtaking and I’m just… a broken mess of a man who’s barely getting by.”

“Oh, right… So broken.” I scoffed. “ You’re on the front page of magazines, you have a successful career and a beautiful girlfriend,,,,forgive me if I’m not breaking my heart over your failures.”

Jungkook exhaled shakily before looking up at me.

“  You wanna know the truth about me, Heejin-ah?” He swallowed. “ I just got out of rehab last week.”

I went still.

“What?” I was sure I’d misheard.

“I… I came here and about a month or so in…I started drinking again…” He glanced away and my heart turned over inside me.

“Jungkook, what?” I demanded, horrified.

“I got drunk and got into an argument with a cop. I hit him. They found out I was a single father and-“ He shook his head, “ I got arrested for disorderly conduct , Public intoxication and assault.”

I stared at him in disbelief, unable to keep the disappointment out of my tone.

“ Arrested for assault... Jungkook why?” I breathed and he flushed.

“I know…. It was stupid.. I… I was stupid.” He said softly.  “Soeun isn’t a baby sitter. She’s a social worker. She’s here to keep an eye on me because they want to make sure I’m not a threat to Mina. If I slip up, they’ll deport me back home and then the state will likely take her away from me. Soeun likes me….so she agreed to lie to you ……And as for the girlfriend…” He laughed, shaking his head, “ Hyorin broke up with me after I got arrested. We’re not… We’re not dating. She was only there to get some prints for the panel tomorrow.” He finished shakily.

I stared at him.

“Why?” I demanded . “ Why would you lie to me… Jungkook ….”

“Because I didn’t want you to think I was a screw up.” He said shakily. “ I know I’m supposed to be getting better and I have but… But sometimes I just…I miss…. I miss home. “ He shuddered. “ And you.”  He looked up at me. “ I miss you a lot, Heejin and it hurts and I feel like the only way I can forget about you…about us together is if I drink. And I’m sorry. I know I don’t have the right to miss you, not after everything I put you through but I… it’s how I feel. ” He glanced away, trembling a little.

I wrapped my arms around myself, stepping away, feeling myself go cold.

We stayed quiet for a few seconds, both of us staring at the floor lost in our own thoughts. I felt drained. Miserably so. Like someone had sucked all the strength out of me. I realized how badly I had wanted Jungkook to be okay. To heal and be himself again. And I’d spent the last nine months, fully convinced that he was. That he was doing what he loved, bonding with his daughter building a life for himself.

But apparently, he was also spiraling back into addiction as well.

It was like we were back in that apartment, both of us miserable  but desperate to be something we clearly were not : Okay.

“Does Taehyung know?” I asked finally and Jungkook hesitated before nodding.

“He was at my court hearing three weeks ago. He’s the reason I haven’t already lost her.” Jungkook whispered.

“What did he say?”

“He thinks I should come back to Korea.” Jungkook said quietly. “ He wants me to start therapy again with him. Every week. “

I nodded.

“Fair enough. And what do you think?”

“I think I will. My probation ends in three days. I’ll… I’ll start making arrangements afterwards. I’ll probably be back in a few weeks time. ”

I stared at him, finally seeing the things I hadn’t noticed this morning. The shadows beneath his eyes, the worry lines on his brow. I wondered if he would have ever told me the truth, if not for this little confrontation between us.

Silence descended again and I bit my lips, a million thoughts running through my head. I felt the pull of his scent through it all, an instinctive urge to reach out and touch and draw him close and I wondered if this was it. That for the rest of our lives we would just be drawn to each other, reluctant and hurt but unable to stay away.

“You’re leaving tomorrow then?” He asked quietly breaking through the fog in my head.  

“Well obviously not.” I snapped. “ I’m not leaving you. I’ll tell Minho, we’ll be staying here for a few weeks. Do you actually have a possible job back home? If you don’t I can ask my agent to find one for you….”

Jungkook was staring at me like I’d grown an extra head.

“ What?” I asked roughly.

He swallowed.

“No.. I .. I don’t have a job there.”

“We’ll get you one. And my apartment is big enough so you can stay with me till we find you a place of your own. And I think it’ll actually be good for you, because there’s a Fine Art photographer, pretty well know guy who stays just a few blocks away and e can probably- “

“You haven’t really changed have you?” Jungkook cut me off in the middle of my rambling .

I flushed, looking away.

“What do you mean?”

“Back when we were married… it was just like this.. I’d fuck up and do something awful and you’d just take it all in stride, get ready to help me out of it….”

“I don’t know what you mean…” I said quickly, “ Let’s go back to the party we’ll talk later-“

He grabbed both my arms, pulling me back to face him when I tried to get past him and I yelped, staring up at him in surprise.

“What?” I demanded. “ What is it now?”

“How do you do this thing, Heejin ?” He asked roughly. “ How do you just get ready to clean up every fucking mess I make like it doesn’t hurt you? Like I don’t hurt you?”

“What are you talking about?” I tried to wriggle out of his hold but he tugged me closer.

“How do you just…” He shook his head, “ accept me so unconditionally? Like… Its like no matter what I do, you’re just willing to look past it and I don’t fucking understand Heejin… why do you put up with me, damn it?”

I stared right at him. Caught his gaze and held it, refusing to look away.

“You know why.” I whispered, licking my lips, throat dry,  “ And if you don’t…. I’m not going to tell you.”

His eyes widened , lips parting and he exhaled sharply, before letting me go and stepping away.

He looked away, shaking a little and I sighed.

“Let’s just get this night over with, yeah?” I said quietly. “ and then we’ll talk.”

He didn’t reply, merely standing aside and motioning for me to leave first.

I shook my head, moving to grip his arm instead.

“Together.” I said firmly. “ We’ll get this night over with, together.”

 Author’s Note : i love these two. i’ve never wanted two people to be together so much. 

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[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 2,952 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: The prison (Season 3) Warnings: language, that's it! A/N: Kintsugi, aka "golden joinery" is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with precious materials like gold and it is strikingly beautiful. I think you'll understand why I titled the fic this at the end! Summary: After Daryl leaves with Merle, he return to the prison to find that Y/N is extremely angry with him...

Your name: submit What is this?

Your face went through a rapid series of emotions as soon as his familiar broad shoulders came into view. First was shock and surprise, and then relief to see him again and to see him in one piece, and then just... anger. Daryl shifted his weight anxiously from one foot to the next, watching over everyone crowded around him as you simply stood up and turned your back on the room and left. You walked straight out and into the row of cells, disappearing through the heavy metal door. Daryl caught Rick’s eyes and the sheriff simply tilted his head and gave Daryl a knowing look. Daryl’s attention was pulled away as Carol grabbed him into a tight hug.

He was surprised when you didn’t come back out to join in the discussion of what the hell to do next about Woodbury and the Governor. He worked up the courage to try to talk to you, knowing full well it may just be an exercise in futility.

You easily heard the familiar cadence of his steps approaching your cell and the doorway darkened as his frame stopped in the space. He gripped the edge of the cell door and anxiously chewed his bottom lip.

You were sitting on the edge of your bunk, determinedly not looking at him. “Go away, Daryl.” Your voice was quiet but there was an unfamiliar edge to it.

He shifted uncomfortably but didn’t leave. “Just—would ya just talk to me?” he ventured. He saw the muscle in your jaw tense as your teeth clenched. “What is there to talk about?” “I—’M back now. I came back,” he said. He felt sick. He wasn’t used to you being angry with him and it was completely twisting him into knots.  “Yep,” you said, standing and going to the doorway. You pulled the hanging sheet in the doorway, a makeshift door, closed right in his face. “Leave me alone,” your voice came out from the cell and then he heard the springs of your bunk creak as you sank back down on it.  He stepped back from the fabric and dropped his hand from its grip on the doorframe, heaving a heavy sigh. Carol stepped out of her cell, just a few doors down and looked at Daryl staring at the closed sheet in front of him. He turned at the sound of her soft footsteps.  Carol’s brow was furrowed low over her eyes and she tilted her head in the direction of the staircase that climbed to the second level. Daryl’s hand clenched and unclenched in a fist and he gave your cell one last parting look before turning away to follow Carol up the stairs. She peeked at Judith in her makeshift bed and smiled. Daryl stopped beside her and looked down at the little sleeping bundle. His heart warmed at the sight of her, but his expression was still dark. Carol glanced over at him. He chewed on his bottom lip anxiously again. “She won’t even talk to me,” he drawled. “Give her a little time,” Carol said gently. “She’ll come around.” Carol sounded very sure of her assertion, but all Daryl could think was that he’d ruined things for good. “I came back,” he said, leaning back against the railing. His heart was aching with regret. Going off with Merle was stupid in the first place. Almost as soon as he’d done it he knew it was a mistake.  “You being back doesn’t change the fact that you left in the first place,” Carol pointed out. “You really think she doesn’t have a right to be upset? Think about how she’s interpreting you leaving.” He gave her a questioning look. Carol straightened up and stared at him. “I understand why you did what you did. He’s your brother. He’s blood. But you leaving with him... to her it means she wasn’t worth staying for. You chose Merle, a racist asshole, over all of us, and right when we’re sitting on the edge of war against the psychopath Merle worked for. I know that isn’t really what happened. It’s not that simple, but that’s what it feels like. She thinks you leaving means that... whatever there is between the two of you wasn’t worth anything. It wasn’t enough to make you stay.”

He gulped and shifted uncomfortably. “But that ain’t true...” Carol shrugged. “That’s how it seems to her.” 

Daryl ran a hand over his face and sighed again. “I really fucked up,” he growled. The grit and gravel in his voice was heavier than usual. “You did what you thought you needed to do,” Carol said, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. “Just give her a little time. She’ll cool off.” But the rest of the day, you stayed in your cell with the doorway covered. Daryl hung around hoping you’d step out so he could try to talk to you again, try to apologize and explain. He was sick with regret and guilt and worry, but you never stepped out. “Who’s on watch tonight?” Daryl asked Rick. He was thinking about offering to stay up and take both shifts because there was no way he would be sleeping that night anyway. He was too anxious. “Y/N first and then Glenn is taking the second shift. He gave Daryl a knowing look. The archer looked miserable. Rick sighed. “I’m just glad you’re back,” Rick said.

Daryl nudged his nose up in nod. “Yeah... thanks...” You’d be on guard first. You wouldn’t be able to hide in your cell forever. You could, however, still tell him to fuck off, but he had to try. Just waiting around was agonizing and he kept thinking about how in this world even the next minute wasn’t a guarantee. He had to make things right as soon as he could.

Night fell and after scraping together his courage, Daryl got up, knowing you’d be in the guard tower by now. He went to the little stove and heated up some water, pouring it over a tea bag in a mug and staring down at it. Yeah, bring her tea, dumbass. That’ll fix it. But regardless of that derisive voice in his head, he grabbed the mug and headed out to climb the narrow stairs of the guard tower, curls of steam wafting off the surface of the amber liquid. You turned when you heard the metal door from the stairwell creak open, thinking maybe Glenn couldn’t sleep and was coming to keep you company early. Instead you saw the broad shoulders of the archer coming through and you turned away and fixed your eyes on the darkness blanketing the prison yard. “What?” you asked sharply. Daryl gulped. Obviously you hadn’t cooled off enough yet. “I just—uhh.” He rubbed his hand awkwardly over the back of his neck. “I brought ya some tea,” he drawled.  You kept your back to him and said nothing. He edged closer and set the tea in front of you on the table. It was then that he noticed the bandage on your upper arm. He hadn’t noticed it before, probably because you’d been wearing a jacket. Without thinking, he reached out and gently grabbed your arm. “What happened?” 

You glanced at his hand on your arm and then up to his blue eyes. You felt your resolve crumbling as soon as your eyes met his. It was like some involuntary reaction you had no control over, but you tugged your arm from his grasp and shifted away from him, averting your eyes back toward the outside again. “I got shot,” you said. “What?” he urged. “The hell ya mean ya got shot?”

His voice was tinged with deep concern. “By one of those Woodbury assholes. You know, when you were off running around with Merle,” you replied. Daryl’s stomach twisted. How could he have been so stupid? If he’d been at the prison where he was supposed to be he could have protected you. What if it hadn’t just been your arm? He hadn’t even said goodbye to you... he’d just left. The hell was he thinking? You must have sensed his sudden panic because you looked over at him again and studied his face. “It’s just a bullet graze, Daryl.” Your tone was flat this time, but it was an improvement over the previous anger. “I’d rather be alone,” you said quietly. You hesitated. “Thanks for the tea.”

He gulped again. This distant tone you had was eating him alive and he felt his blood pressure rising. “Would ya just look at me at least? Gimme a chance to explain!”

You were a bit taken aback by his tone, which was now a little angry too, and you did turn to stare at him, your brow furrowed heavily now. “Explain?” You scoffed. “What the hell is there to explain? You made your choice. Your priorities are pretty damn clear. So, just—just leave me alone...”

“Nah,” he growled. “Not ‘til ya listen to me.”

You glared at him and he watched the muscle in your jaw tense as you clenched your teeth. “Actions speak louder than words, Daryl.”

“I fucked up, alright? I ain’t denyin’ that! I wanted to come back as soon as I left!” he roared. “‘M sorry!” “Sorry?” You stared at him, bewildered. “You’re sorry,” you repeated. “Yeah, well, so am I. Sorry I was stupid enough to think that maybe—” You broke off and shut your eyes, breathing in a tense breath. “That maybe what?” Daryl pressed you.

“That maybe I actually fucking meant something to you!” you yelled. There were angry tears in your eyes now and you fought to blink them away. “But if you could just leave then clearly I’ve deluded myself, because I could never do that to you. So, I guess I don’t know what this—” you gestured to yourself and then to him, “—is. Was. Whatever... apparently it’s nothing.” The archer stared at you feeling like his heart had split open. “That ain’t—that ain’t true. And it wasn’t that simple. S’not that simple.” He took a hesitant step toward you. 

Your jaw was still set. “Forget it. You don’t need to explain anything to me. It’s not like we were.... together. I was stupid to read into anything. I’m—I’m done. I’ll just send Glenn up later,” you murmured, trying to storm out of the guard tower, ready to race down the stairs and leave the whole mess behind you. But Daryl’s hand gently caught you as you tried to move past him, landing lightly but firmly on your arm.

“Nah. Don’t do that! Don’t just—just dismiss this!” he growled. 

You stared up at him, caught off-guard by his hand on you, by him physically stopping you from leaving. You were trying to think of something to say but your mind was suddenly blank. His hand finally dropped from your arm but instead of backing off he stepped closer to you. “This ain’t nothin’!” he argued. “And ya weren’t kiddin’ yerself. Now just stop bein’ so damn stubborn and talk to me!” You felt your resolve crumbling a little.  “I—I don’t have anything else to say!” you retorted angrily. “Now let me by!” You tried to brush past him again but he stepped right in your way. “Daryl,” you growled. “Get outta the way.” “Nah,” he said shaking his head. “Ya wanna be stubborn? Fine, but so will I.”

“Move!” you yelled at him again, feeling a flush of angry heat in your face. “No,” he said again, this time catching your eyes with his blue ones.

Your chest was heaving with angry and nervous breaths. “Let me go,” you said, and this time even you were surprised by how weak your own request sounded.

Daryl stared down at you, his posture defiant, obstinate. His heart was absolutely racing in his chest and he finally couldn’t suppress the urge any longer. He clasped your face in both hands and kissed you urgently, something he’d wanted to do for so long, but even more so since he’d tried to leave. It was all he could think about. A moment later he was sweeping you into him with a hand on your lower back.

You let out a noise of surprise and stumbled back, away from him, staring at him standing there with his chest heaving. “Wh—what the hell are you doing?”

Daryl gulped. Oh shit. Had he just fucked things up worse? He gestured vaguely with one hand. “This ain’t nothin’,” he drawled, breathless from his lips on yours. He stepped toward you cautiously again, half expecting you to move away or brush past him for the exit, but you didn’t move. He anxiously licked his lips, and you felt butterflies flit to life in your stomach. “‘M sorry,” he said again.

You stared at him, a quizzical expression on your face. You wanted his lips on yours again. “Say it again,” you said softly. You stepped closer to him. 

Daryl stared down into your eyes. The regret in his was plain. He slipped his fingers into your hair and clasped your face again. “‘M so sorry. I ain’t ever gonna leave again if I can help it.”

Your expression softened and you grabbed onto the front of his vest and pulled his lips down to meet yours, kissing him heatedly. Daryl’s hand landed on your lower back again and he pulled you against him, pressing forward so you were touching practically from knees to nose. His kiss was urgent, feverish. He pressed into you and you moved backwards blindly until you felt the table behind you. Daryl’s strong hands lifted you, setting you on the edge. You looped your arms around his neck and gently bit at his lower lip, eliciting a chesty growl from him. His hands wandered over your back and smoothed down your sides, feeling the curve of your waist and angles of your hips. They wandered down further and ran over your thighs, sending tingles of electricity up your back. You tugged him into you more tightly, feeling his hips pressing into the inside of your knees as you sat on the table. You slid a hand under his vest, around his back, and scratched your nails over the thin cotton of his shirt, feeling his strong, tense muscles beneath the material. He pulled back from you suddenly and your eyes opened, long eyelashes fluttering, disappointed and feeling the inches between your lips profoundly. “What is it?” you asked him, completely out of breath. He just stared down at you, not lifting his hands from your hips. “Nothin’. Just tryin’ to convince myself this is really happenin’,” he drawled, his eyes flitting between yours and your partially parted lips. 

You ran your fingers through his hair and he leaned into your touch. “It is.”

He looked suddenly nervous again. “Listen, I still wanna tell ya... I can’t entirely explain it. I know Merle’s an asshole. Of course I know that... But he’s my brother. And it was almost like I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I’d already left him once in Atlanta. I couldn’t do it again.” Daryl rushed on, still in vague disbelief that somehow you’d gone from yelling at him to kissing him in a span of a few minutes. “But as soon as we were alone out there... I realized he might be my brother but he ain’t really my family anymore. Maybe he never was.”

You gulped and nodded, pressing your hand flush to his chest and feeling his racing heart beneath your fingers. “I’m sorry I was so hard on you,” you said regretfully. “I was just—hurt.”

He nodded. “I can’t blame ya. ‘M sorry.”

You looped your arms around his neck again and he gave in to the gentle tug easily as you pulled his lips back to yours. The heat built between you again and you let out a small sigh as Daryl’s lips wandered from yours to kiss your neck and the delicate skin by your collarbone, his fingers tangling roughly into your hair. You found yourself arching into him more and more and Daryl was reeling as your fingernails lightly scratched his back, even over the fabric of his shirt. But the building heat was quickly quashed by the sound of the squeaky metal hinges on the door to the stairwell and both of you startled. Daryl spun around and you jumped up from your spot on the table, accidentally knocking the mug of tea to the floor, which of course shattered and sent liquid splashing everywhere. Your entire face flushed as you saw Glenn standing in the doorway with a surprised look on his face, one hand still on the doorknob. 

“Uhhhhh... sorry,” he mumbled. But his face quickly broke into a grin he tried to stifle. “I’ll just—I’m gonna go,” he said jutting a thumb back over his shoulder, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. Daryl shifted uncomfortably next to you. Glenn turned on his heel and headed right back down the stairs and into the cellblock again. 

Rick, unable to sleep with the threat of the Governor still looming, caught sight of him returning and gave him a questioning look. “I thought you were on guard duty now?” he asked curiously. Glenn smiled and laughed a little awkwardly. “Uhh, yeah, but uhh—Y/N and Daryl have got it,” he said, his eyebrows lifting. “Y/N and Daryl? Isn’t she still pissed at him?” the sheriff asked, looping one thumb into his pocket. Glenn laughed again. “I’m pretty sure they made up... Night, Rick.”

[harryspet]

off to the races (2) s.rogers

[Warnings] dark!steve rogers x reader, stripper!reader, ddlg, daddy!steve, abduction/kidnapping, mafia boss steve, bondage, a hint of peter x reader, toxic/abusive relationship, hella angst, little editing 

A/N: im mentally shutting down because of school but at least i have mob!steve :)

In which you don’t want to be Daddy’s secret anymore.

word count: 3.5k

main masterlist

taglist: @cherienymphe @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mischiefmanaged011 @visintaes​  @disaster-rose​​ @sexyxseabassx​ @marvelmaree​

“Woah, dude, your room is awesome. Awe, you have all the good movies. I haven’t seen The Jungle Book in forever!” 

“Peter, look!” You waved him over to the window, ignoring his astonishment for the paradise Steve had created for you. Peter stood there dumbly for a moment before walking over to the window beside your bed. 

You heard the loud whirring of helicopter spinning blades echoing through the room even with the window closed. It was landing in the field behind the manor and you were questioning why Steve was making such a grand entrance today. You’d been stuck in this house for three weeks now and nothing this exciting had happened yet, “Who’s helicopter is that?” You looked back at Peter who’d crossed his arm nervously. 

“Uhm … probably … maybe-” You scoffed, before looking back at the view. The helicopter was a sleek, black color and, as you narrowed, your eyes could make out some words written in gold. 

“Stuh …. Stark …. Industries. Stark Industries,” You were calm as you took in the info before the realization hit you, “Stark Industries! Is Tony Stark here? Holy …. pancakes.”

Peter smiled, seemingly amused by your excitement, “Pancakes?”

“Steve doesn’t like it when I-” You stopped yourself from explaining, realizing there was a bigger situation at hand, “We have to go check things out. Get a closer look!”

“No way,” Peter shook his head, “I’m here to make sure you stay in this room.”

You rolled your eyes, “So Tony Stark must be here then, right?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that,” Peter pressed his lips together like he was struggling to hold in all the secrets he knew. 

“How the hell does Steve know Tony Stark? Stark is dirty too? I should’ve known … flipping rich people.”

“Flipping?”

You took a step toward him and despite the fact you were wearing a pair of fairy wings, he still seemed intimidated by you, “What do you want, huh? A raise?”

“Uhm … I don’t think you can do that … can you?”

“Of course I can. Steve is wrapped around my finger.”

Peter cocked an eyebrow, “But he’s Steve Rogers …”

“Look around this room for goodness sake! He does anything I want. If I tell him all about how you’re a great worker, how you’re a good friend to me, he’ll surely be appreciative. Might even give you a promotion and maybe you won't have to play babysitter anymore.”

He considers it just for a moment, “If he does anything you want then why are you locked in this house?”

“Fine, fine, so I don’t have complete control but I have some. I could be helpful to you in the future!” 

“Y/N, if something went wrong he’d probably chop me up into little pieces and send them to my Aunt. Or he’d chop up my aunt and make me watch … depends on the kinda mood he’s in.”

You stared back at him, trying not to let the look on your face falter, “ … I’ll give you my movie collection?” 

“I’m sorry but-”

“It’s my birthday soon?”

“I can’t,” Peter stated, sighing, “I’ve got pressure on me right now, and things have to go right tonight. It’s like a huge deal. I never get to go to stuff and the party is-” He stopped his rambling when he realized he’d said too much. 

“Party?” Peter opened his mouth and closed it again. He turned away from you, eyes wide, and made his way to the door. Of course, you chased after him, placing yourself between him and the door, “What party?”

“Please move,” Peter begged, “I really can’t talk about it.”

“I won’t say anything, I promise!” You were the one begging now, “He doesn’t tell me anything at all. Can you imagine how I’m feeling? I’ll do everything you say, I won’t try anything, I just want to know what's going on …. please?”

“Steve can’t know,” You nodded eagerly and he finally gave in, probably because of your spectacular puppy dog eyes, “Tony Stark is having a party tonight, that’s where Steve’s going, and most of us are going to. A pretty important deal is happening.”

“Why doesn’t Steve want me to go?” You frowned a bit.

“I don’t think he wants anybody to know about you, to keep you safe, that kind of thing.”

“Right,” You nodded, “Even if I go crazy while he does that.”

Peter looked sympathetic, “I’m sorry.”

“I know this thing with me and Steve is not ordinary but is it crazy of me to not want to be a secret? Even after everything …”

You could tell Peter wasn’t expecting a deep question nor did he expect you’d confide in him, “I don’t think so,” Peter was trying to understand, you could see it in his eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck as if he wasn’t sure, “Obviously … you - uhm - care about him. I wouldn’t want to be the secret of someone I care about.”

He was taken aback when you suddenly hugged him. Unsure if he could hug you back, he awkwardly patted your shoulder which made you giggle, “Can I paint your nails?”

“What? No.”

“I have colors that aren’t girly.” “Hmm … can you do cool stuff like the shapes and sparkles?”

“Of course,” You smiled, “Step into my salon.”

+

“I didn’t get my sticker this week,” You bounced back from your toes to your heels, watching Steve as he got ready in his closet. He was fixing his tie in the mirror, making sure it was absolutely perfect, along with the rest of the look. Freshly trimmed beard and an aftershave that smells intoxicating. He smelt like money and looked like it too. That’s probably exactly how you would want to look in front of Tony Stark. 

“You skipped dinner two days in a row, doll.”

You were frowning but it wasn’t like he was focused on you anyways, “But I did better after that,” You whined.

“I know, baby, you can try again next week.”

“Maybe if you were here then I wouldn’t have missed it,” You whispered, playing with your fingernails, “But I’m stuck here and you get to go out and have your fun.”

“Have my fun?” He questioned, buttoning up his jacket. 

“You get home so late … I’m sure you go to your clubs, booze it up and talk to girls.”

He chuckled a bit, “You think I’m flirting with other women?”

“I don’t think, I know,” You leaned against the doorway, “You’re a guy, aren’t you? That’s what you do.”

He finally turned to you, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. He was as handsome as ever, like a movie star, “Doll, my days are long because I’m traveling from here to the city every day. I want to fall asleep and wake up with you. There isn’t and never will be anyone who I’d rather do that with.” 

As he came closer, you knew he was going to lift you into his arms. Ever since he took you from the club and you sobbed into his shoulders, you’d find solace in his arms. Even if his hands were causing your hurting, they still felt warm and loving, “You don’t mean that,” You whispered, muffled against his shoulder. 

“What can I do to prove it to you?”

“Take me with you,” You said and you felt him stiffen. 

“It’s not safe,” He tried to explain. 

“Are you embarrassed by me?” 

“No, no,” He rushed out, carrying you out of the closet and into the bedroom. “Why would you even ask that?”

“Because of what I do, what I used to do-”

“No, Y/N. I’ve never felt that way,” His tone was more concerned that it ever had been before, “Look at me, please?”

Begrudgingly, you lifted your head. You hated that you were feeling jealous or inadequate, “You took care of yourself all these years and I know you still can,” He continued, “Let me protect you now.”

“I’m not a baby.”

Steve could sense the small bit of pride still left in you and decided not to push you on it anymore, “Could’ve fooled me,” Steve smiled slightly, bouncing you in his arms, “Let me tuck you in, grumpy.”

“The sun just set!” 

“It wasn’t actually a request,” He was already carrying you away. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” You resisted, “Can I sleep in here? I’ll go to sleep right away, I promise.”Steve stopped, thinking it over for a moment, “I like that the … sheets smell like you, Daddy,” You added, knowing that was what he wanted to hear. It wasn’t fully a lie but you had other motives for not wanting to go back to your room. For one, your room locked from the outside and his didn’t. Besides that, you were almost sure that one of your stuffed bears had a camera inside its eye. 

Steve tucked you into his california king-sized bed that night and watched you fall asleep until it was time for him to go. You felt the kiss he pressed to your forehead and, for a brief moment, you thought about changing your plans. 

That feeling didn’t last long. 

+

For such an expensive car, you thought your ride would be a lot smoother and much more comfortable. Turns out, hiding in any trunk, no matter how luxurious, behind big boxes of unknown items, was not a pleasant experience. An hour into the drive, you finally decided that you’d had enough and you needed to get the feeling back into your limbs. Besides that, you needed to check and make sure that your hair and makeup stayed in place. 

When you climbed over the seat from the trunk to the backseat, the car instantly swerved before the driver corrected its path, “Y/N, holy shit!” Peter shouted, obviously frightened out of his mind but you were focused on making sure all the layers of your dress made it safely back into their places, “What the fuck? What the actual fuck?”

“Oh, calm down,” You said, looking at him through the rearview, “Just keep driving.”

“Are you out of your mind? If Steve sees you he’s going flip his shit!” 

“Peter, you okay in there, kid?” You heard Bucky’s staticky voice over Peter’s radio. The younger man picked it up and answered, his eyes still focused on you. 

You placed a finger over your lips and Peter gave you a death stare, “Yeah, I’m fine … I thought I saw a squirrel.”

A caravan of three cars surrounded Steve’s car as they all drove down this dark, winding road that you assumed would lead to Tony Stark’s mansion, “Did you not comprehend a single word I said?” Peter shouted, “Do you want me to get killed?”

“This is my problem,” You said, “Steve will know that you had nothing to do with it, I promise. But tonight is going to go super well so it won’t even matter. Steve is going to see me and realize he’s crazy not to show me off and then we’re going to go to the party and I’m going to charm everyone with my personality which is going to make him a ton of friends and even more money. Everyone wins.”

Peter was shaking his head the entire time as he listened to your rambling,  “Y/N, I understand that you want to be more to Steve and you don’t want to be in the dark but this isn’t the way! This isn’t some charity event or some art gala, these are dangerous people.”

“But Tony Stark-”

“Is as dirty as it gets,” Your heart began to race a bit, “And Steve cannot just let everyone know his biggest weakness, even if they are his allies.”

His biggest weakness. 

Suddenly, your mind was racing with thoughts of moments with Steve. Meeting him, going on your first dates, the hotel meetings, and the passionate kisses that always left you feeling like he felt more about you than he admitted. You never saw yourself as his weakness. 

I want to fall asleep and wake up next to you. 

When you snapped out of your trance, Peter had his walkie-talkie pressed to his chin, “Guys, uhm, we have a stowaway,” You slumped back in your seat, and when the car eventually came to a stop, you wished you were still tucked away in Steve’s bed. You think Peter was calling your name, probably apologizing and telling you how he had to follow orders but, honestly, you had tuned him out, “I-I don’t know …. I thought I checked everything …”

Your dress was adorable too, covered in pastels, while still remaining elegant. You imagined Steve's heart with flutter at the sight of you, instead, he was fuming. He was always so stoic, so full of composure, that the change frightened you. He grabbed you roughly by your upper arm, pulling you from the backseat, and slamming the door shut. Pressed against the car, you looked into those blue-green eyes that were anything except nice. 

“I didn’t mean to for all this,” Was all you could muster up the courage to say, “I just wanted to come with you-”

He shushed you before you got your words out, “We’ll talk about it later.”

You wished he would just yell at you now. He could bend you over right now and you’d prefer that over his silence and the obvious disappointment in his tone, “Later? But-” He pulled you away from the car and you stumbled in your heels as he pulled you along the dark road. 

He brought you towards the last car in the caravan and Sam stepped out from behind it, closing the trunk, before handing something shiny to Steve, “What are you doing?” You asked shakily, the cold wind of the night blowing your dress. 

“Turn around, face the car,” He ordered you and you feared whatever punishment you were about to receive would be worse if you disobeyed him. Slowly, you turned around and he wasted no time grabbing your wrist. You heard the metal click of handcuffs as they tightened around your wrist. You felt his strong hands on your waist and, as he lifted your dress, you assumed the worst. Your panties slipped down and as Steve lowered himself with them. 

“Steve, please talk to me?”

To your surprise, as you stepped out of your underwear, you felt the click of metal around your ankles. When he stood back up, he grabbed your arm again, pulling you back so you were pressed against his chest, “Daddy will deal with you later,” His breath against your ear sent shivers down your spine, “Don’t worry, doll … open your mouth.”

“If you just let me explain-”

You weren’t sure why you even wanted to. He left your brain scrambled and wondering why you even did the things that you did. 

“I won’t ask you again.”

Your lips parted and you realized he was forcing your panties into your mouth. The next thing that you knew, you were lying in the back seat of that car, your wrist hogtied to your ankles. And you thought sitting in the trunk would be uncomfortable. You were struggling and calling out for him and, as you expected, you were ignored. 

“Get her back as fast as you can. I’ll keep things short with Stark,” Were the last words you heard before the door shut close and all your screaming was muffled. 

+

You weren’t sure at which point you’d fallen asleep. As you laid there tied up, you thought a lot about him since there was nothing else to think about. You weren’t sure how he could love you and be so cruel at the same time.  

That next morning, you awoke to sore limbs and makeup staining your pillow. Even though the car ride back was hell, you knew your punishment wasn’t over. You debated even getting out of bed, knowing what was to come. 

You finally mustered the energy to clean yourself up, washing your face, and brushing your teeth. When you stepped back into your room, you were taken aback by what was sitting in the middle of your room. A giant, life-size brown bear was happily perched before your bed, holding balloons and a Tiffany’s gift bag. 

It was exactly the opposite of what you were expecting today. You approached it cautiously, decided to sit and open up the present. You handled the bag carefully, finding an elegant white card sitting inside. 

For my favorite girl on her birthday.

Love, Daddy. 

You sighed, knowing he probably picked all of this out before you betrayed him and probably ruined any sort of trust he had between you. You hadn’t even realized it was your birthday which was probably due to the fact that you had no phone or any contact with the outside world. There was also a jewelry box inside, a gorgeous, rose-gold tennis bracelet inside. 

As you snapped it around your wrist, covering your bruises, you promised not to ask how much it cost. It would probably make you feel even worse about yesterday. 

You finished getting dressed, deciding to head downstairs for breakfast. You found Steve sitting at a table out by the pool, reading through a newspaper like a grandpa. It seemed like he was expecting you because there were pancakes and eggs waiting on the table, “Morning,” You greeted awkwardly. 

“Good morning, doll. Happy Birthday,” He responded, his eyes still focused on the newspaper. 

“Thanks,” Taking a seat in front of him, you instantly moved to grab the syrup, but the rings on his finger caught your attention. Below, you could see his knuckles were red and purple, bruised like he’d been punching something … or someone. “Your hands …” 

He folded his newspaper, taking a look at them himself. It didn’t seem to faze him as he folded them on his stomach, leaning back in his chair, “Your wrist,” He changed the subject and you wondered if he was amused by the fear in your eyes, “Do you like my gift?”

“Yeah, it’s beautiful, I love it … thank you,” Your mind was elsewhere, “What happened to your hands? Is that from last night?”

“Last night is a blur. I was so angry after your little stunt, I had to have a few drinks to even get through the rest of the night.”

“Really?” You tried to hold in your scoff, “You seem very chipper today.”

“Only because I get to see your beautiful face,” He countered, smirking. 

Your eyes narrowed at him, “What did you do?”

“That’s a broad question-”

“Did you hurt him?”

“Him?” Steve raised an eyebrow, “You mean Peter? I thought about it … I’m still thinking about it actually. If he was smarter, yesterday would have never happened but you must’ve been pretty convincing. Poor kid, he probably thought you liked him.”

“None of it was his fault! I-I was just being stupid, I was using him and he was just trying to be a good guy. Steve, please.”

“If I did, you would probably start to actually listen. You’d never try one of those crazy stunts ever again-”

“I will listen! No more stunts, I’ll be an angel from now on,” You stood up from your chair, moving around the table, “I know you’re just trying to protect me. Peter tried to tell me that and I should’ve listened.” You grabbed a hold of his hand, squeezing it tightly. 

“That’s all I want,” He added sincerely and you nodded. 

“I’ll pinky promise,” With your other hand, you held out your pinky. You thought Peter would be your way out but, here you were, begging to stay in order to keep him alive. Your pinkies wrapped around each other and you climbed into his lap. You kissed the sides of his mouth before kissing his lips. 

“Soon, we’ll take a trip together, I know you’re itching to get away.” 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” You kissed his lips again, “Your hands … what actually happened?”

“Punching bag,” He easily explained although you were expecting a tale of horror. Holding his hand, you brought his fist to your lips, kissing them gently, “That probably wouldn’t have happened a year ago … I think you make me more gentle.”

“That’s a lot of pressure, don’t you think? Turning a beast into a prince.”

“For some reason, I have faith in you.”

+

“Peter!” You perked up as soon as he entered the living room, not realizing how grateful to see that he was still in one piece. Sam, Bucky, and Steve seemed to exchange confused glances from their places on the couch. 

Peter seemed baffled as well, “Am I in trouble or something?”

“No, we’re about to watch Coco. Wanna join?”

“There’s popcorn,” Sam added, stuffing his face.

“And cookies,” Bucky chimed in. 

Peter smiled, unsure, as he looked to Steve for permission, “Join us, son.”

“Awesome,” Peter clapped, making his way over to the couch, “This one always makes me cry.”

“Y/N, I thought you said this one wasn’t sad,” Bucky eyed you. You shrugged, snuggling yourself further into Steve’s side. You tried to hide a mischievous smile and act like you weren’t hoping to see three grown men tear up from a Disney movie. 

“Okay, press play,” You tapped Steve’s chest and he raised the remote. 

“Wait,” Steve paused, “Are all three of your nails painted?”

+

i’m thinking maybe i’ll make a christmas themed part 3, we shall see :)

[squeakygeeky]

To Sir, With Love/Khun Chai Review

I’m going to try to write a review that doesn’t spoil anything specific past the first two episodes, but it will include general spoilers especially about the type of ending. So if you want to know exactly what you’ll be getting into before starting a 17 episode series with 1hr+ episodes, this is for you.

Tldr: To Sir, With Love was one of the most enjoyable things I’ve watched all year and I highly recommend it, even to people who don’t watch BL. I especially recommend it to fans of soapy period dramas.

Genre-wise I wouldn’t consider it a BL since there’s a lot going on besides a romantic relationship, but the central character is gay, his romance is the main romance, and the fact that he is gay is what drives the plot. It’s a Thai lakorn, but I haven’t seen any others so I don’t know how it compares to others. For me it was like the gay baby of a BBC period drama and a telenovela. Off the top of my head content warnings would include suicide, homophobia, child abuse and violence but I’m sure there’s more stuff, this is a melodrama.

For all that it is soapy as heck, it holds together pretty well. Sure, no one ever gets to have a private conversation and there are a bunch of essentially magic glittery poisons that people throw at each other in hilariously dramatic fight scenes, but people act in the way you would expect their characters to act (just, you know, turned up to 11 with evil cackling) and the aren’t a bunch of what I’ll call ‘random situations.’ ‘Random situations’ being what someone was used to describe the ‘plot’ of Unforgotten Night. Here, everything happens because people are scheming, and their schemes keep bumping into each other in interesting ways, and it all somehow makes sense within the context of the melodramatic world it exists in. It can shift from genuinely heartbreaking to absolutely bonkers, but not in a way that I minded.

This got long, anything spoiler-y is after the cut.

Premise: The story starts in 1931 with the powerful 5 Dragons Association, headed by a man named Song. His associates are Zhang (Song’s longtime associate and right-hand man), Ma (the ambitious gangster-type), Cai Xiaotong (a widow who runs a ‘tea house’), and Sung (who was basically minding his own business the whole series). Song has a first wife named Li, a secondary wife named Chan, and a mistress named Bua. Li’s son Tian was born a day earlier than Chan’s son Yang, so he will inherit his father’s position and Chan is not happy about that. However, the two brothers are good friends and spend a lot of time with Bua who is luckily sane and very nice, unlike their actual mothers.

At a 5 Dragons meeting, Ma outs Zhang, causing Song to give Ma control over their new coffee venture instead because he believes a homosexual can’t be a strong business leader. In the resulting argument, Zhang is kicked out of the 5 Dragons Association altogether, and shortly after Zhang commits suicide in front of everyone, cursing Song. Shortly after, Li realizes that Tian is probably gay and decides this secret must be hidden from everyone at all costs.

Fast forward to 1943 and the 5 Dragons Association continues to be successful with only 4 members, but Thailand is occupied with Japanese soldiers. Tian has grown up into a serious and responsible young man, while Yang is more carefree and prone to getting into trouble. Despite years of Chan trying to poison Yang against Tian, he has no interest in taking over the business and the two brothers are as close as ever.

Tian is well aware that he’s gay, but is hiding it from everyone but his mother and her loyal servant Jia. Jia knows how to make poisons and do martial arts and that will be important later. Chan discovers that Tian has a terrible secret that could lead to him being removed as heir and is desperate to discover what it is. Tian meets and falls with Jiu, a candy seller with a dark secret of his own, while Yang falls in love with and adorable scammer named Pin. Unfortunately for all parties, Tian learns that his mother has arranged for him to be married to Pin, and his father will make him his official successor contingent on this marriage.

The narrative structure actually reminded me a lot of UWMA. There was a tragic event in the past that started to play out all over again in the present, and the series hinges on whether history would repeat itself or if the characters would find a new way forward.

Costumes: The costume design in this series was excellent. I don’t know much about Chinese and Thai fashion history, just Western, but I could tell what era the show was supposed to be set in by clothes alone, which is really all I ask for in terms of historical accuracy. And they went beyond that and put hats on people (ask any historical fashion lover in your live about hats and hairstyles in historical fiction, I dare you). The only garment I questioned was Yang’s one inexplicably slutty polo shirt. The costumes looked great, and they suited each character’s status and personality.

Characters: There were a lot of characters, but I didn’t find them that hard to keep track of. I think this was partly because they had distinct personalities and motivations, and also because they were pretty much all there from the beginning, it wasn’t like new characters were suddenly getting introduced for drama.

The female character were especially great, even when they were being completely terrible. They all had so much to do, and although the rivalry between Li and Chan drove most of the plot, there were also some great team-ups between the women.

Tian, Yang, Jiu and Pin were a whole set of cinnamon rolls (plus Bua). I appreciated having genuinely nice people to root for, and their niceness never felt bland or boring. Tian was caring and self-sacrificing without having to be completely passive, Yang was cheeky but always loving, Jiu had a completely understandable motivation for the bad things he did, and Pin was clever and funny.

Tian and Jiu had great chemistry. I loved their romance and although there was definitely an element of love at first sight, their relationship definitely developed over time. This was a low-heat series, but what heat there was all went to them and not Yang and Pin, which I appreciated. Yang and Pin were also great together, though. Tian and Yang had an amazing brotherly bond despite everything and that was one of my favorite things about the show.

Ending: The ending was super happy, but then in a way that I thin fit because everything had to circle back to Zhang’s suicide in a way where either something equally tragic had to occur or tragedy had to be thoroughly averted, and this was ultimately a *fun* series, not a tragic one. Several characters died during the climactic events, but not a single cinnamon roll. This was not a show where the gay couple had to leave everything behind and run off in order to be together. Tian did not have to enter into a sham marriage or do anything secretive anymore. In fact, Tian didn’t really have to compromise anything in order to live happily with Jiu. Yang and Pin also got to be together, but it ended with the focus on Tian and Jiu, not with Yang and Pin’s wedding, which I felt like it easily could have. I can’t name a single historical anything were a queer couple got an ending this happy (but if you can please tell me so I can watch it).

[zhongliologist]

Shibari + Zhongli canon compliant nsfw

Pairing: Zhongli x Gender Neutral!reader

Genre: SMUT SMUT SMUT!! 

Words: 3.9k

AN: Hi anon!! Sorry this took a while! THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS ONE!! I’m glad I had experience writing something like this before skajdha I decided I can’t fit this into a small drabble, so here’s like a really long version lmao my two itty bitty braincells are now in no-brain mode, so this might be full of typos or errors. 

*WARNING!! THIS IS PURE SMUT. IF YOU ARE A MINOR, IT IS UPON YOUR DISCRETION. PLEASE READ RESPONSIBLY*

***

When Zhongli first heard the word while on a stroll late one night, he had realized that there was indeed an artform he had yet to encounter or at least heard of. His curiosity peaked, it was only a matter of time before he finally had to give in and ask you what it was.

“YN, if I may,” he began, settling the cup of tea to the table. “There is something I wish to know.”

Attention caught, you raised your brows at him—surprised that there was actually something Zhongli has yet to know—as you took a mouthful of wonton noodles.

“Sure, ask away,” you replied, chewing.

“Well, this was several nights ago,” Zhongli recounted, his deep voice serious. “I was passing by a group of shipbuilders and I couldn’t help but over hear their conversation.”

You hummed, prompting him to continue while stuffing another serving of blackened bass in your mouth.

“Their discussion involved an artform popular in Inazuma, and apparently has spread all over Teyvat as well,” he continued. “Unfortunately, I have yet to hear about this certain artform. Could you care enlighten me please?”

Leaning your head to the side, you wondered what it was. There wasn’t any popular art trend nowadays which Zhongli doesn’t know, so you became to grow curious as well.

“Did you catch the name of it?”

Zhongli nodded. “Yes. It’s called shibari.”

You almost choked on the food you were eating.

“Are you sure that’s what you heard?”

“I believe it is what I have heard,” he replied. “Is there something wrong?”

Sighing, you were going to have a lot of trouble explaining it to him. It was painfully obvious how Zhongli is so out of touch from the pleasures of mankind.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you decided it was best for him to know, before he does something unexpected.

“It’s kind of a sexual play,” you told him, but despite your words, Zhongli only glanced at you, eyes blinking.

Watching him, you noticed he had placed his hand over his chin—a habit he had whenever he was thinking. Whatever comes out of his thoughts, you were beginning to become nervous.

“I see. So, performing art during intercourse…interesting,” he mumbled to himself. “It is not too far off considering the fact that intercourse could also be deemed as a form of art, wherein it takes specialized honed skill to elicit a pleasurable result. To take two art forms and combine them in one act…I am astonished at the inventiveness of man.”

You took a bite from a dumpling, eyes jaded. “It’s not that grand, you know.”

“Now that I am aware of its existence,” Zhongli continued, paying no heed to your comment. “I wish to experience it myself. YN, I must request for your assistance.”

The dumpling you were eating fell back to your plate. “…what?”

“This…this shibari. I wish to partake in this now popular art form,” he repeated, but you only became more flabbergasted.

“Didn’t you hear me say that it’s a sexual play?!”

“I did. That is why it must be you,” Zhongli replied, taking your hand and placing it over his smirking lips. “You are my lover after all.”

Flustered, you had no choice but to agree. You knew of Zhongli’s immense curiosity and nothing is going to stop him from finding out what he wants to find out. Moreover, you wouldn’t really want him to experience it with someone else.

“F-fine,” you conceded, still nervous. “But give me a month to prepare. You should also ready yourself.”

Wondering why he had to wait and ‘ready’ himself, Zhongli leaned his head to the side. “Very well, but why a month?”

You scratched your nape as you averted your gaze somewhere. “I don’t have the right stuff, and I don’t have enough knowledge to do it properly. So give me some time.”

*

It had been a month since that conversation had occurred, and Zhongli began to feel a little bit antsy as the day drew near. It wasn’t common for him to feel this nervous energy, always maintaining his calm and composure. But it was different this time.

Since that discussion with you, you had banned any sort of sexual act from sex to masturbation, all except from small kisses; and as someone who had gotten used to your presence in his arms at night, Zhongli instantly felt withdrawal symptoms cloud his dignified countenance.

Zhongli inhaled sharply as soon as you entered his room, anticipation deeply running in his veins. You took a shower right after him, making him wait and allowing his imagination to run rampant inside his head.

“Sorry, did I make you wait?” you asked, making your way to the bed in nothing but a bathrobe.

“No, it’s alright,” Zhongli replied, his long hair now freely flowing after he had taken off his ponytail when he was taking a shower.

Running your hands through his dark hair, you admired the way they slipped against your skin as if they were made of silk. Absentmindedly, you began to braid his hair in a lose coif, making him relax underneath your touch.

“Um…er…YN, are we going to—”

You hummed, interrupting his words as you smiled. “Eager, aren’t we?”

“I fear that I may longer be able to contain my anticipation,” he confessed, feeling your hands on his back through the thin robe he was wearing.

Grinning, you knelt down and embraced him from the back; giving his temple a small kiss. “It seems like I don’t have to ask you if you’re sure about this.”

Loving how you felt so warm around him, Zhongli smiled as well as he intertwined his fingers between yours. “I do feel nervous, but it was I who wished to know; thus I must see it to the end.”

“Well, that settle’s it then,” you replied as you removed yourself from his shoulders. “Before we start, I need to remind you that we can always stop if you can no longer handle it, ok?”

Zhongli sighed. “I am confident that I can handle something like this.”

“Please stop being so stubborn,” you retorted back, annoyed that he really has to insist he wouldn’t need it. “Since it will take you forever to decide, I’ve picked one for you. It’s Rex Lapis. Say it when it gets too much.”

He scoffed. “You retaliate in the most absurd of ways, yet very well, I’ll keep it mind. Nonetheless, that does not mean I will use it.”

You grinned. “You’ll take that back soon enough.”

As you said those words, you shifted from your seat and faced him; hands cupping his chin. There was a look of surprise in Zhongli’s expression as soon as you tilted his head up to meet your eyes—too slow to react at the situation.

“Now, from here on out, I’m the one in charge. Any misdemeanor will warrant due punishment,” you began, voice firm and authoritative. “Are we clear, Zhongli?”

It took him some time to adjust at the sudden shift in the air; stunned at the tone you were giving him. This was probably the first time he had seen you take the lead, and it might’ve given him some sort of whiplash.

“Answer me,” you demanded, which made him jerk his attention back to you.

“I—uh…yes…”

“Very good.”

Smiling at his response, you removed yourself before him and sat just beside him with an easy expression. “Well then, why don’t you take off that robe? Just the robe though, leave your underwear on.”

Brought on by the awkward situation and the fact that you just ordered him to strip, Zhongli’s face immediately heated up to a few degrees. It was strange that he was feeling it for some reason—was this the actual appeal of the performative art form? Or was this simply one of your whims?

As he removed the silk tie tying his robe shut and slid it on the floor, you instructed him to quietly kneel down on the bed before you; hands neatly placed on top of his lap.

“Y-YN…? What is this…?” he asked, confusion marring his youthful face. It was embarrassing to sit on the bed that way, wearing nothing but his underwear, his dick beginning to form a tent.

Yet you only smiled at him.

“Don’t worry. We’re getting to the actual act,” you replied, crawling towards him before placing your hands on his bare chest. “If you can hold on till then, I might actually award you, you know?”

Leaning down, you immediately captured his lips in a deep kiss, moving softly yet sensually against his. Cupping his cheeks, you pushed your tongue inside and easily played with his. For some reason, this felt way hotter than the kisses you previously shared, with Zhongli unable to keep his hands to himself and began to wrap his arms around your waist.

You broke off the kiss with a click of your tongue; your thumb still on his swollen lips.

“YN…”

“What did I say about touching?” you asked, eyes holding nothing but pure mischief.

As soon as he heard you, Zhongli knew he had made a mistake and instantly rescinded his embrace; eliciting a chuckle from you.

“I—uh, forgive me…” he hurriedly told you, his voice beginning to lose their strength as he stuttered and tumbled at the words he used to be so eloquent with. As someone who has prided of his calm demeanor, Zhongli felt a surge of embarrassment at how he easily succumbed to your touch.

It was so adorable to see him like this; all flustered and nervous, making you want to see more of those reactions you have yet to see.

“Stay there. I’ll be right back,” you told him and stood up; an idea forming in your thoughts.

The moment you left; thoughts of things he might’ve done wrong kept repeating inside his head. He was scared that he might’ve crossed something which he shouldn’t have—the sounds of you rummaging through your belongings only exacerbated the nervousness that was already in his system.

However, you were not gone for long. He could sense you behind him, daring not to move or look back, and as soon as you draped a cold silk cloth over his eyes, he instantly realized what he had eagerly signed up for.

For one, as the Geo Archon, it was unimaginable for him to be in such a position, but for some reason, Zhongli found it incredibly arousing to have him at your mercy—to be restricted and ordered around; to be at the other end of the spectrum from what he was used to?

This is strange indeed…

“Don’t you agree that everything feels more vivid when you’re blindfolded?” you asked, now back on his lap; and despite being robbed of sight, he could tell you were smirking. “Does it feel good, Zhongli?”

“I…I cannot be certain…” he replied, the feeling of your intense stare sending shivers down his spine. “I haven’t experienced something like this before…”

At his hesitation, you could only giggle and gave him a small kiss. “Well, there’s a first for everything, but this one here…”

Your voice trailed off, your hand effortlessly finding his half hard dick and pressed on it harshly; eliciting a strangled moan from him. “It’s been feeling good for a while now, don’t you think so Zhongli?”

“I…I—!” He was at a lost for words; the pleasure he felt intoxicating his mind. You were right, the blindfold seemed to heightened his senses to such degrees of vividness.

“I can’t blame you really,” you told him, still toying with his member with your finger but not fully committing on pumping it up and down. “I did tell you to hold off for a month, of course, you’d be unusually sensitive and horny.”

If Zhongli thought his face was hot enough before, he hadn’t anticipated for it to feel full out burning as if his blood was set on fire. He tried holding off the sounds he was making whenever you pepper kisses on his shoulders, but to no avail. He was gradually becoming heady at the immense pleasure your hand was giving. By the time you continued talking, he was already panting heavily, skin flushed and hands balled so tightly into a fist, his knuckles turning white.

“Y-YN…” He wanted to say ‘too much’, but he didn’t want to stop you either.

“I’m impressed you can keep your hands to yourself,” you remarked playfully, rewarding him with a love bite just underneath his jaw. “Why don’t we move on to the actual thing itself?”

Even with the blindfold, Zhongli could feel you standing up; anticipation once again beating wildly against his chest. What were you going to do to him this time?—that was a thrill he had never expected to feel pleasure from.

You returned once more to his side, now with the appropriate items you needed, and brilliant grin on your lips to top it off. It was weirdly exciting for you as well, finally doing something as erotic as this to a dignified gentleman such as Zhongli. Which is why, you couldn’t help but talk him through it.

“I did tell you that shibari some sort of sexual play, right?” you began, as you seized both of his hand and pinned them on his back. “It involves tying someone up with rope, in patterns that are not only visually pleasing but are also designed to make you feel good.”

Zhongli could feel the roughness of the rope cling to his skin as soon as you tied his wrists together before doing various knots up his torso and down to his legs. It was incredibly strange—you were only tying him up but for some reason, he felt so exposed and so turned on.

“The reason why it’s so popular is because it gives a sense of security if you will,” you continued, remembering the patterns you had religiously practiced over and over again for the past month. “As if you were surrendering everything to that one person, trusting that they can give you security, give you pleasure. That is what this art form is.”

Every time he felt your soft hands brush against his damp skin as you tightened the rope around his body, he would control a shudder that kept on surging through him like a multitude of waves. This was beyond the ordinary, a situation Zhongli had not anticipated—you were right when you told him to prepare himself. He definitely did not heed your advice, and it came to him with a price, especially when you finally wrapped some rope around his dick as it stood straight and hard between his legs.

“If only you could see yourself right now, Zhongli,” you told him, pressing firmly on the ropes around his member before nibbling on his earlobe. “Aah, I just want to eat you up.”

With your sultry voice directly sending shockwaves down his lower parts, he could only dig his fingernails on the palm of his hands as the hemp ropes dug deeper in his skin. Even though they were not too tight, the restrictive sensation enveloping his body, plus the way you were touching him now was making him lose his mind.

“YN…YN…p-please, I—!”

He spoke between gasps as he felt your lips suckle on a sensitive point on his neck, his dick twitching as he tried to jerk up.

You hummed amusingly. “What is it, love? Where do you want me to touch you?”

Raking up your fingernails up his toned chest, you smirked as he groaned, unable to find any sort of friction he had been seeking for some time now. The way his long dark locks stuck to his skin because of how much he was sweating, or the way he trembled and shivered at every touch of his skin—you loved them all. As much as how Zhongli was intoxicated by pleasure, you were also heady with the power you had over him.

Not waiting for his answer, you crept your hands up and suddenly pinched his nipples—making him jolt straight up at the abrupt stimulation with a loud moan.

“Do you like it here?” you asked, now lavishing your tongue over a hardened nub; relentless and teasing.

“Ahh…! YN…! Wait, please!”

All of his thoughts had already vanished, replaced only by the sensations of your tongue on his now sensitive nipples, of the ropes wound tightly around him, of how painfully hard his dick was. It felt good, he had to admit it. It felt incredibly good.

“Do you want me to stop? I can always stop,” you asked, smiling. “If not, tell me where else I should touch you.”

Breathless as his chest heaved, Zhongli tried to find the words he wanted to say even as his lips trembled.

“Um…please touch….m-my…”

He was blushing furiously, the word seemingly unable to pass through his lips.

“Your what, Zhongli?” you asked him again, almost cooing but inwardly laughing at how he just can’t say the word ‘dick’.

Biting his lip to stop it from quivering too much, it seemed like he really has to throw every sense of dignity he had in him just to relieve his arousal.

“M-my…pe—ahh!!"

You pinched one of his nipples, pouting. “Don’t you dare call it penis, or else I won’t let you cum. Now, as you were saying?”

If only his head wasn’t too hazy from all the sensations stimulating him simultaneously, he would’ve made a mental note to make you suffer at a later date, but right now, his brain was being ran by his dick.

“P-Please…YN…! My—my…d-dick…I can’t…” he forced between pants as his sweat made the ropes feel even tighter and his underwear feel even more sticky.

Smirking at your victory, you pressed a kiss on his lips, your hands finally removing his dick from the constraints of his underwear. You could feel him groan on your lips as you began to move your hand up and down, and making sure to reach his most sensitive spots.

“Look at you, getting this hard after being tied up,” you whispered to his lips, a grin plastered on your face. “I didn’t know you were this dirty, Zhongli.”

“I-I’m…not!”

He tried to deny it but you kept his mouth shut by squeezing his cock tightly.

“Really now?” you asked, voice low as you kept on pumping him, his voice becoming nothing but dirty noise. “Are you about to cum?”

“YN…!” he growled, the ropes keeping his legs folded biting on his skin. “T-too much….! I’m…!”

Mercilessly, you continued to jerk him off as he crept closer and closer to climax. However, there he realized that the ropes around his member had gotten tighter, and the painful throbbing he felt was because he couldn’t cum.

“Oh? Did you find it out?” you asked, chuckling at the look of desperation so evident in his face. “If you can endure this in a few more minutes, I’ll reward you. How about that?”

“N-no, no….! YN…p-please, I c-can…no longer….” Most of his words were incomprehensible, affected by the pleasure and the pain on his cock.

You hummed playfully once more. “Do you want me to stop then? You can always say the safe word, you know?”

“No! W-wait…please! I n-need…I can’t…!”

“Then endure,” you replied, an idea blooming in your head. Your free hand then reached for the blindfold covering his eyes and unraveled it, allowing him to finally see.

However, he did not have time to recover when you immediately caught his attention.

“Look how hard you are, Zhongli,” you told him, his amber eyes blow wide by his current state. Yet strangely, the thought of him so aroused and at your mercy, only made him harder.

Laying down on the bed with your chest on the mattress, you looked up to him, his dick on your hands; your eyes reflecting mischief. “If you can hold on for a few minutes, I’ll let you cum, alright?”

Zhongli only gazed down on you, face as hot as the sun and as red as beet. He watched as you took his dick in your mouth and began sucking him off. At the sensation, he instantly threw his head back. This was totally different from your hands. This was just incredible.

With lustful eyes, you watched him convulse before as you assaulted him with your tongue—sucking and licking at every sensitive point you knew. The underside and the tip were particularly sensitive and that was where you concentrated.

“A-ahh…! Oh…shit…YN!” he groaned, his deep voice and the way he was now cursing sent you reeling as well. “T-too good…I’m…f-fuck…!”

You chuckled, the vibrations on your throat making his dick twitch as you kept on bobbing your head. Gazing up, you both exchanged glances as you kept on sucking the tip; his eyes tightly closing at the intensity.

“Are you going to cum?” you asked before diving in once again, your hands secretly making their way underneath his underwear and finding his hole. “I’ll help you.”

“W-wait…! T-that’s!” he jolted up yet unable to do anything but feel your fingers brushing around the rim.

Prodding at his hole, you enjoyed watching the pained yet lustful expression he was making on his otherwise stoic face. His eyebrows furrowed, his cheeks flushed pink, his mouth ajar as drool poured down his chin. It was fascinating, addicting. You can’t help but tease him endlessly, relentlessly as he kept on moaning your name again and again as if under a spell.

“P-Please….let me…I can’t…I’m going to….Y-YN…!”

Deciding that this was finally the limit of his first time, you cleverly untied the knot on his back which kept the rope around his pelvis secure, allowing it to loosen.

Still sucking him off and poking on his hole, you could feel him twitch inside your mouth, an indication that he was close.

“YN…! I’m….ughh…c-coming!”

In a few pumps, Zhongli climaxed in your mouth; his warm cum on your throat. It was a bit too much, and a little thick so you were unable to swallow everything, allowing it to drip down your chin.

Released from his high, Zhongli couldn’t believe he just had his biggest nut of his life after being tied up. It was in every ounce, shameful and embarrassing but it just felt too good for him to resist at all. Maybe it wasn’t too much of a bad thought to do this once in a while.

Eventually, you loosened the ropes that were still on him and took note of the rope markings on his skin, reminding yourself to give him that special balm you got for this exact purpose. As soon as you released him, you pulled him to a deep kiss which he gladly reciprocated.

Unlike your previous ones, this kiss was one of concern and care—asking and answering questions that were difficult to convey. As your lips moved against each other, your chest began to warm and float, glad that you were able to deliver his request. When you both pulled away, the normal Zhongli was back; his eyes warm and lively.

“I’m glad it felt good,” you told him, cupping his cheek. “I was afraid I might hurt you or something.”

He only chuckled and gave you a pat. “I did tell you I can handle it.”

You sighed in relief, loving the way he was touching you. “So, how about we sleep—"

Zhongli however interrupted you, pushing you down the bed, pinning your wrists. He was smiling but you definitely knew you were screwed.

“I reckon it is time for me take my revenge,” he gazed at you, eyes turning feral. “No one will be sleeping tonight.”

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Life Without Colour (PART FIVE)

Soulmate AU: Your vision is in black and white until you meet your soulmate. You and your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, aren’t each others soulmates but you love each other. He introduces you to his friends, the Avengers, and a very odd thing happens.

Characters: Steve Rogers x Plus Size Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader

Note: ignore that i don’t even question bucky being able to get through security at the airport, i couldn’t think of how he would be able to get through the airport security bc of his metal arm so i’ve skipped that detail completely. i hope it doesn’t detract from the story! 

this is nearly 6000 words!

Taglist:  @domainoflostsouls​  forgetthisbull  handon-h-art  yourspecialcrush  giulsgotmusic  mrsbarnes-rogers  luosymekawa  linzeyzarcone  forgetthisbull   calamityreads  talgra   marina-darling  btsforlif  lamoursansfin  classic1985  lovesicksofi  fandomsfallnomore  thebivirgin  classygladiatorcupcake

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

PART SIX

Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours. You had long since stopped trying to figure out what state you were in and where you were headed. Bucky had been driving non-stop aside from two bathroom breaks at a small gas station in the middle of nowhere. You had stopped crying a long time ago, too drained and too tired to continue. You felt horrendous. You hated this, you absolutely hated this but you had no choice in the matter. The car had been silent for the whole way aside from the quiet chatter on the radio. Bucky hadn’t wanted to speak in fear of upsetting you further. He had been driving you out of state to go to an airport that would be a little harder to find. It had been Fury’s idea, to go to an airport that Hydra wouldn’t look for straight away. It gave you a little more time to get away without being watched.

You took a break from watching the blur of trees and roads to glance at the clock on the dashboard; 13:42. You hadn’t eaten yet, barely had anything to drink either and you knew that you weren’t far away from a dehydration migraine. As if on cue, your stomach rumbled loudly. Bucky, without speaking, reached behind his car seat and produced a rucksack and dumped it on your lap with a, “Here. There’s water and some snacks in there. We’ll get a proper meal when we’re at the airport.”

You dug through the bag, producing two bottles of water. You opened one and offered it to Bucky, he accepted with a nod, draining half before handing it back to you. You offered him a muffin but he shook his head. You dropped the bag to between your feet and began to have your water and muffin. It helped curb the hunger, at least for a while, and you felt a lot better once you had something in your stomach. After a while, you sank back into your seat with a yawn.

Bucky glanced over at you, “We’ve still got a few hours to drive, you can sleep if you want.” You looked at him and he gave you a small smile, “It’s okay. I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”

You thanked him quietly before closing your eyes. It didn’t take long before you fell asleep and your soft snores filled the car. Bucky looked at you for a couple of seconds, smiling to himself. Man, it’s gonna be a long few weeks.

It only felt like you’d closed your eyes for a few minutes when Bucky was saying your name, gently shaking your shoulder. Groggily, you opened your eyes to meet his blue eyes and it almost gave you a fright seeing them. Sometimes it still surprised you to see colour and especially when Bucky was around... colour seemed to be brighter and those deeper blue eyes seemed so bright in person.

“We’re here,” he said, pulling back quickly, not wanting to upset you by being too close. Bucky was very careful of boundaries, he always had been but especially after the Winter Soldier incidents. He knew what it felt like to not want to be touched or have your personal space invaded so he was always careful to not overstep.

“You’ve got the fake passports and stuff, don’t you?” You asked him, yawning and stretching in your seat.

He nodded and told you that they’re in his bag. In order to help the process of becoming anonymous, Fury had fake IDs and fake passports made for the two of you. They’d even gone so far as to create two new backstories for the pair of you just in case anyone ever questioned the pair of you. You and Bucky got out of the car, your legs ached from having sat in the car for hours upon hours. It was dark outside now, you didn’t know the time. Bucky grabbed the bags out of the car and handed you the two passports to hold. As you walked into the airport, you flicked to it. Miss Jane Smith and Mr John Smith. Two very common and obvious fake names but you hoped that it wouldn’t be picked up.

The check in process was much easier than you anticipated, the passports passed the ID checks and soon, the two of you were through security and heading for the food outlet. Bucky had told you to keep your head down for most of the time and to avoid direct eye contact with cameras. The airport was relatively quiet which was good in the sense you didn’t have to worry about people around you noticing Bucky. Bucky led you to a small café which was quiet and the two of you sat at the back. Everything was kind of passing in a blur and it only seemed like a few seconds until Bucky was back with your food.

You began to eat in silence and it was then you realised where you were going, “Estonia?” You asked quietly, making sure to not be overhead.

Bucky nodded as he took a bite of his burger, “Managed to find a secluded house, already furnished. The owner agreed to let us stay for a discounted price as well.”

“I’ve never been,” you shrugged, taking a bite of your food, “Where are we right now?”

“Pittsburg,” he said, glancing around the café to make sure no one was taking notice of the pair of you, “Steve thought it would be a good idea to leave from an airport a few hours away from New York. Hydra and Rumlow would check New York airports first once they realise you’re out of town.”

You smiled sadly as you looked down to your food. Leave it to Steve to think of everything. Bucky told you that the flight would be leaving in an hour and it would be a long ass flight but it was okay because you were exhausted and you could absolutely sleep for a good portion of the flight anyway.  

You sighed, “When can I take this stupid disguise off? I’m so uncomfortable!”

Bucky studied you carefully, “When we’re in the safe house.”

“Do I look stupid? I feel stupid.”

“You look... different. Not bad just different,” he paused before speaking again, “I prefer you as you are though, without the wig, contacts and flashy clothes. I think you look much better when you’re being yourself.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that with anything other than a nod. It felt foreign and wrong to receive a compliment from him, even though it was a genuine, friendly compliment, it felt wrong. The two of you didn’t say much after that.

After eating, you and Bucky went to get some plane snacks. You grabbed some water and some treats, you also wandered to the book section and picked up a book. As you were walking to the books, you saw a little boy and girl pass wearing matching Captain America t-shirts. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched them pass. It seemed to hit you in that moment that this was real and this was truly happening.

“(y/n)?” Bucky asked appearing behind you.

You turned to him, “Sorry... I just can’t believe this is happening.” 

Bucky nodded before gesturing to the check out, “Let’s get this all checked out and then hopefully we’ll be able to go to our departure gate.” He didn’t really know how to help you without overstepping or potentially upsetting you. He didn’t want you to get upset in public so he thought that he could keep you distracted and that would help ease your worries. It helped, having him there to guide you and distract you from possible sad thoughts helped a lot actually.

You found your airplane seats quick, the two of you were bang smack in the middle and you were both in a two seater section. Bucky let you go in first, saying that he preferred not to look out of the window when taking a flight. You sunk into it, keeping your head down and wrapping your arms around yourself to get warmer. As Bucky sat beside you, tapping his foot and his hand on the armrest impatiently, you looked at him curiously, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, “Just... not a big fan of flying.”

You pulled out the magazines which were in the pocket of the chair in front of you and handed him them, “I find that reading the safety procedures always helps. Also reading the magazine where you can just check out the meal deals and the perfume deals help a bit.”

Bucky took them off of you and began to flick through them. In the meantime, you closed your eyes. As the plane began to move, Bucky tensed beside you and you opened your eyes to look at him, his hands were clenched around the arms of the chair, jaw clenched too.

“Hey, show me that,” you said, sitting up straighter and pointing to the magazine. He looked at you and then handed it to you. Bucky had been helping you out by distracting you from being sad, the least you could do is distract him from being anxious. You leaned over, probably a little closer than you would’ve felt comfortable with in normal circumstances. Bucky stiffened as he smelled your perfume when you came closer. You took no notice of the closeness.

“Look at that!” You said, pointing to the menu that they were offering that night on the flight, “What would you have?” Bucky shrugged and you rolled your eyes, “C’mon. I’d have the chicken curry and the cheese and ham panini and then I would absolutely have the tiramisu afterwards. What about you?” You held it closer to him for him to study.

“Uh... I mean, I suppose the lasagne sounds nice. The breaded mushrooms too, I like those. Never had tiramisu but it sounds nice enough so I’d give that a go too.”

“No way,” you said shaking your head, “I would order the tiramisu and you would order the chocolate and raspberry mousse and we’d share them both.”

Bucky snorted slightly, “Sure thing, whatever you want.”

You flicked through more of the pages, “Ooooh,” you said noticing the deals on the perfumes, “I love airplane and airport deals. I only ever buy my perfume from duty free, honestly. No point in buying it full price anywhere else.”

“I still find it crazy that there’s a shop on an airplane.”

You nodded, “I mean, it’s pretty weird but I’m not complaining about the deals. Some of the stuff you can buy is so bizarre though. I was on this flight once, going on holiday with my family when I was younger, and they were selling t-shirts with a picture of the airplane we were in on them saying ‘I rode in this plane and all I got was this lousy t-shirt’.”

“That sounds like it’s a total dad shirt,” Bucky laughed slightly. He looked a lot younger when he smiled. He was always so stony and serious but when he smiled or laughed, it knocked years off him. He was already a handsome man but when he smiled, he was just... wow.

You burst out laughing as he said it, “My dad did buy it and he wore it so proudly!”

Bucky laughed with you, finding his nerves easing up as he spoke to you. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to you about anything other than the fact you were soulmates so it felt rather nice to talk to you on another level. It was still prettty strange but it was nice. Steve always told him that you were easy to get along with so he wasn’t too surprised. As you continued to chat, you gasped audibly when you came to the ‘collectibles and merchandise’ page, “There it is!” 

“No way!” Bucky grinned as he looked down at the picture of the t-shirt exactly like the one you described, “Oh, god, it’s hideous.” The two of you lapsed into laughter again, talking and looking at it before Bucky happened to glance out of the window, “We’re in the air?”

You looked out, “Yeah, we took off about fifteen minutes ago actually.” Bucky breathed out an impressed laughter, “My distraction technique always works. Keep the mind occupied on something else like the ugliest t-shirts in the world.”

Bucky smiled, “Thank you and thanks to the ugliest t-shirt ever-” it was then that a man wearing the exact t-shirt you had been slating got up from the seat in front of you and shot you a dirty look as he walked past, “Oh, shit.” It was hard to keep your laughter in but somehow you both managed it.

As you calmed down, Bucky sighed, “No, really, thank you for that.”

You smiled as you handed him the magazines back and sunk back into your seat, “And now, I sleep.”

When you woke up a few hours later, you found yourself to be sitting alone with no Bucky Barnes in sight. You looked up to see a flight attendant coming down the aisle, “Excuse me,” you said with a smile, “do you know where the man sitting next to me went?”

She smiled, the same warm smile that every flight attendant has, “Yes, your husband is in the queue for the toilet, he should be back in a few minutes.”

You nodded, she went to leave when you caught her again, “Sorry, can you do me a favour?”

When Bucky came back, he was pleasantly surprised to see you sitting awake, smiling at him, “Good sleep?” You nodded,  “Don’t worry, you didn’t snore... too loud.” 

Your cheeks burned as he teased you,��“Shove it, Barnes,” you scoffed, “I bought us a present.”

He frowned, “A present?”

You grinned as you held up two t-shirts, the exact same one that you both said was the ugliest shirt in the world, “No way!” He laughed, clapping his gloved hands together, “Oh my god, they’re worse in person.”

You laughed as you handed him his, “You’re so welcome. I will make us wear these at some point by the way, don’t think you’re getting out of it.” You’d never seen Bucky smile so wide with pure joy radiating from him. It was nice to see; it made you feel a lot better about the situation that was happening. You and Bucky hadn’t broached the subject of being the other’s soulmates, you actually really didn’t want to have that conversation anytime soon, but it was nice to know that at least you got on a little bit.

The fact that the pair of you were laughing so soon felt wrong. It felt like you were betraying Steve for merely getting along but it was nice. You were scared of what was going to happen and Bucky had been anxious about flying so the pair of you had nothing to do but talk to each other. Sure, it wasn’t a particularly interesting conversation but it was something. It was still a little awkward and a little weird at times but you could look past that for a few minutes to just appreciate the fact that Bucky was doing this.

Soon, you were curled back into your plane seat, your own jacket draped across you, “Thanks,” you said quietly as sleep began to take over,  “for doing this for Steve. I know that it’s not ideal and I know you probably don’t want to be stuck with me for weeks. I appreciate it, Bucky.”

Bucky nodded and didn’t say anything. I’m not doing it for only Steve, I’m doing it for you too. He watched you for a moment longer before closing his own eyes and resting into his own seat.

The rest of the flight went by in a blur, you slept some more, read your book and ate some food. It wasn’t long before it was time to land and Bucky could not have been more happy than in the moment the wheels of the plane landed on the runway. The airport was a relatively quiet which meant that security and getting your bags was a lot faster than anticipated.

Soon, you were waiting with Bucky in line to get a rental car. To your surprise, when it was your turn to speak to the receptionist, Bucky slid a wad of cash over the counter, “I want a car to keep and I want it off book.”

The receptionist, who was a middle aged man with salt and pepper hair, eyed Bucky with narrow eyes and Bucky stared right back at him. You glanced between the two men wondering who would give up the staring contest first. After a pregnant pause, the receptionist shrugged and dug around in the drawer next to him before pulling out a car key, “Grey sedan in Lot C, registration plate ends with RUS. It’s old and a little worse for wear but for this price, best I can do.” He glanced from left to right before sliding the keys across the table. Apparently he seemed to accept the bribe. You raised your eyebrows, looking between the man and Bucky.

Bucky thanked him with a nod before taking the keys and picked up his and one of your bags before walking away with you in tow, “Wait,” you said quietly, rushing to keep up with him, “You just bought a car?!”

Bucky nodded, “We needed a car. This one will do for a while, keeps us off of the radar for a while.”

Finding the car was easy, the hard part was trying to keep up with Bucky. He took long, quick strides that were hard to keep up with. The car was parked alone in Lot C. It was a little old, with some dents and scratches in the doors from previous bumps and accidents and some of the paint had chipped but aside from that, it seemed to be fine. Bucky loaded the bags in the trunk before getting into the driver’s seat. You settled into your seat and Bucky said that it would be a forty minute drive but could do it in half the time if the road’s were quiet. Then, you both set off.

You couldn’t stop staring out of the window, looking at every single detail of Estonia. It seemed like a dream that you’d be waking up from any second now. Your hands fidgeted with your jacket sleeves as you stared out to the vast unknown. What would become of you and your relationship, you had no idea. You didn’t know what was going to happen and you had absolutely no clue where you would be going. A wave of uneasiness crashed over you as you tried to swallow down the nausea. 

The drive seemed to simultaneously be the longest and shortest drive ever. Seconds felt like years and minutes felt like nanoseconds. You just wanted things to go back to how they were two months ago when things were easy and simple and life was without colour. You glanced over at Bucky, wishing that it had been anyone besides him that was your soulmate. Bucky was a decent enough guy from the short time you’d been with him, I mean, he was willing to take you to a safe house for god knows how long after meeting each other less than three times so obviously he was a good guy but... even if you and Bucky ended up friends, ended up falling in love... nothing could ever happen. You just couldn’t do that to Steve. 

Oh, Steve. 

You wondered what he would be doing just now. He would probably be in the gym with Sam, boxing his feelings and emotions about the whole situation out. That’s what he usually did when things were tense or when he was stressed, he would go to the gym and work out for hours. Sam would usually go with him, being his comic relief to make things less stressful for him. You had never been so thankful for Sam Wilson than in that moment of realisation. You had been so focused on what this meant for you and how this would affect you that you’d practically overlooked your boyfriend’s feelings.

Steve would be blaming your kidnapping on himself, even though it wasn’t his fault that Hydra were dickheads. He would be devastated that he’d had to send you off with your soulmate, knowing fine well that you could easily come back home in love with Bucky. It had been so hard for Steve to make that decision but it had to be done. He wished that he could’ve came with you but it was his mess to clean up and he couldn’t just let his friends do it. He wasn’t that selfish even though he wished he could have been. Steve would rely on Sam pretty heavily over the coming weeks. Sam had been such a good friend to Steve in the few years they’d known each other. Sam understood Steve, they shared the same values and same morals and that was something you liked about Sam. Sam wasn’t afraid to stand up and fight for what was right. You knew that Steve would be in good hands with Sam at his side.

Little did you know, Bucky was thinking of Steve Rogers too as he drove. It was surreal that he was driving with you, through Estonia, to a safe house where you’d be for weeks, potentially months. It scared Bucky, honestly. He liked you, not in a romantic way (yet), but he had heard all about you from Steve. All of those months that Bucky was in Wakanda, Steve called every week to check on him. Every week, Steve would talk about you. He remembered the things he would say about you. ‘She’s great, Buck. She’s got this smile, this really wide smile that I’ve only seen a handful of people have in my life. You know the one I mean. That genuinely happy, makes you smile when you see it smile.’, ‘You gotta meet her, Bucky. She’s everything I’ve been looking for and even though we’re not soulmates, we are.’, ‘It’s crazy. After Peggy, I never thought I’d fall in love again but (y/n) came into my life when I needed her most. Every day, I wake up thankful for her. My god, you have to meet her. You two will get on so well. She keeps my on my toes and is hilarious.’

Bucky glanced at you, a familiar pang of guilt shooting through him. You were his best friend’s girl and he could never do anything to pursue you because he cared about Steve too much. Steve was the one person who had given him a chance and had stuck by him through everything. Steve deserved you, Bucky didn’t.

It wasn’t long before Bucky pulled into a driveway. You looked around, realising that you were deep in the woods. It was an off road cabin that seemed to be pretty far from civilisation, “This is it.” Bucky cut the engine before getting out of the car. You stayed put, staring at the cabin in front of you. From the outside, it looked a little run down but very liveable. It was made with a dark oak wood which blended in well with the trees. Passers by would have to do a double take at first because of how well it blended in.

You got out of the car, grabbing the rucksack that had been by your feet. Bucky appeared beside you, carrying all of his and your bags, “Ready?”

You didn’t look at him, eyes stuck on the cabin in front of you. This was it. This was your future. You were unusually terrified as you stared at it. As soon as you stepped into that cabin, your future would change forever. Everything would change. Life as you knew it with Steve would completely change as soon as you walked into that cabin. With your heart beating fast, you took a breath and nodded, following him up the stony path and to the front door. He unlocked it and swung the door open before disappearing inside. You hesitated at the front door, staring at the line on the floor to mark the cabin’s entrance.

“I love you, Steve,” you whispered before stepping into the cabin and closing the door behind you.

The cabin had an old musty smell to it, the smell of emptiness. Clearly, no one had lived here for a long time. The décor was simple and pretty outdated but it was nice. Bucky had flicked the lights on throughout the cabin and was checking each room just to double check. You wandered through each room. The living room was simple with a couple of recliners and a small couch with a small TV on an old coffee table. You’d be surprised if the TV still worked with a thick layer of dust coating it. There was a large fireplace in the middle of the side wall which would be nice on a cold night. The kitchen was nice with everything that the pair of you would need to get started in the wooden cupboards and on shelves. It had a small table in the corner of the room, looking out of the window. Bucky told you that tomorrow, he would go get some shopping and food supplies until then you had the water and a few more snacks.

Next, you ventured into the bedrooms. Yours and Bucky’s separate bedrooms were adjacent to each other. Bucky had dropped his bags in the slightly smaller room. You went to object but the look on his face told you not to even bother. Bucky’s room was smaller yet still spacious enough for a double bed and a wardrobe. Your room was pretty much the same though as well as a wardrobe you had the chest of drawers as well. The shared bathroom was beside your room and it was... well, it was just an outdated bathroom. And that was it.

The cabin wasn’t particularly big or luxurious but it was much than you had expected. You seriously were expecting to sleep on the floor on a bug infested hotel but Bucky had done pretty good. You’d long since abandoned your disguise, feeling much better when looking like yourself. As you wandered around again, checking cupboards, finding extra duvets and pillows in the wardrobe in your room, you remembered something important. You dug around in your bags until you found it; a picture frame. Bucky knocked on your bedroom door. You turned to him, “You don’t need to knock,” you said.

“Come so I can show you something.”

You followed him into the living room as you held the picture frame in your hands. He stopped in front of a painting on the wall moving the painting to reveal a safe, “Oh, wow,” you said surprised.

“I got this safe installed and I’m putting this gun inside it, okay?” He told you, taking a gun from his back pocket. You jumped slightly, not expecting him to wield a weapon in front of you, “This is for emergencies, got it? I’ll teach you how to use it but for now, I’m locking it up in here, okay?”

“I don’t want to use a gun-”

“Neither do I,” Bucky said, cutting over you, “but I have to at least show you how to use it just in case, okay? The code is 0407-”

“Steve’s birthday.”

Bucky faltered before nodding and continuing, “Yeah, Steve’s birthday. Type that in,” he typed it in, “and it’ll unlock.” He dropped the gun inside of it before closing it over, “Re-type the code and it locks. Got it?”

You nodded.

“I always have at least one weapon on me at all times, okay? I have my gun and I have my knife. I’m only putting this here and showing you just in case, okay? We’ll probably never have to use it but it’s just in case something happens, just so I know that if I can’t get to you, you can have some way to protect yourself.”

Again, you nodded. Bucky eyed you carefully, making sure that you were okay with this. You didn’t really know how to feel about it. You weren’t surprised that he had weapons but it scared you the thought of you having to use them. Hopefully it would never come to that though. He could see the toll this was taking on you and you’d barely been gone a day. He was about to ask what you had in your hands when you wandered over to the fireplace and put the photo atop. It was a photo that you had once upon a time hated. It was you and Steve laughing as you posed for a picture in front of your Christmas tree. Nat had taken it on Christmas Eve. You wore a dress that hugged your curves a little too tightly for your liking but Steve had loved to see you in that dress. He always said the colour complimented your complexion so well and now that you could actually see colour, you could see where he was coming from. You loved that picture now, you remembered the night fondly where he twirled you around, telling you how beautiful you were every other minute. So yeah, you could see your protruding stomach and your bigger arms but you loved it. You smiled as you looked at Steve’s smile, heart soaring as you looked at him. Steve could make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. With him, you truly believed it. Your weight never defined your worth, you defined it.

Almost instantly, Bucky lunged for it, grabbing it and almost tumbling into you,  “What the fuck?!” You hissed, leaping backwards. You hadn’t expected the dark haired super soldier to lunge from across the room, almost knocking you off of your feet to grab the picture frame down.

Bucky released a sharp breath, “The window,” he said gruffly. He pulled the curtains shut quickly, “We can’t put any photos up.”

“Why the fuck not?!”

He rolled his eyes, Steve had warned him that you could be stubborn, “In case we’re being watched. If someone’s tailing us, they might look through the window and have our identities confirmed if we put photos up.”

You rolled your eyes, “If someone’s tailing us then I’m pretty sure that they know our identities already. Give me it back.”

“Fine but you’re not putting it there,” Bucky said.

You glared at him as a bubble of anger boiled in your stomach, “My god, how am I meant to stay here with you for weeks if you’re such an arse over a photo?!”

“Yeah?” Bucky scoffed, “I didn’t have to come here, (y/n). I came because Steve asked. I came for you.”

You were breathing heavy as you glared at each other, “Yeah well maybe I don’t want you here.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be here!”

“Keep the stupid picture.” You turned on your heel and stormed into your bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you. You knew that you weren’t angry at Bucky, you knew that the two of you were tired and hungry. You knew that you were a flurry of emotions from having your life flipped upside down. You knew that Bucky was looking out for your safety but you were pissed and he was the only person near you so he would have to deal with it. 

Bucky sighed heavily as he fell onto the couch, pursing his lips and pinching the bridge of his nose. Yeah, Steve, she’s fucking brilliant. 

It was hours later when you rolled over with a huff. Sleep wasn’t coming easily. You were still too pissed off and because you were still so pissed off, you were only getting more annoyed. You knew that if the anger faded, you’d probably end up crying and you didn’t know which was worse so you just stayed angry. You wished that Bucky would’ve just been able to talk to you normally instead of treating you like a child. You would’ve absolutely understood the picture fiasco had he not leapt over the table and yanked it like a dog stealing someone’s dinner from the table. 

You sat up in bed. Usually, if you couldn’t sleep you’d watch TV or go on your phone but you didn’t feel up for watching the tiny TV in the living room and you obviously didn’t have a phone so you couldn’t do much than think. You’d need to see if there was a cheap CD player and CDs in town so that you could at least have some background noise. The cabin was eerily quiet at night. It was a different surrounding in a different country and everything just felt a little uneasy. You were used to New York where the hustle and bustle was part of every day life but the woods was so quiet aside from the rustling trees... it would take some getting used to.

With a huff, you grabbed your dressing gown from the bag on the floor and made your way into the kitchen. You grabbed a glass and filled it with water before taking a long drink. You didn’t know why you wandered into the living room but you found yourself venturing in and it was then you noticed, in the dim light from the moon, you saw a note and the picture of you and Steve that sat on the coffee table in front of the TV. You picked up the note.

I’m sorry about freaking out over the picture, it’s been a long day. Steve warned me you were stubborn but I wasn’t prepared, I guess. Let’s not put it on the fire place until we’re absolutely sure that no one’s tracking us. Until then, it can go here where it’s not facing a window. Hope that’s okay. It is a lovely picture of you and Steve... Again, sorry. - Bucky

You smiled slightly as you read it before slipping the note into your dressing gown pocket and going back to bed. So Bucky Barnes was decent after all.

[janetbrown711]

Can we get a one-shot between yakko and max at the party? Please

Parties.

Yakko remembered those, though they were far and few between. Angelina wasn't necessarily one to celebrate often, but his parents told them tales of celebrations in the past. Singing, dancing, laughing, falling in love, it sounded exciting.

Well- okay, Yakko had technically been to parties before. However, they always lacked the spirit and energy and- well... fun his parents described them with. His grandmother's parties were stiff and uncomfortable, and usually without his siblings.

However, his mother's coronation party was the complete opposite of that. There was music- fiddles and the like- the kind of music that made you want to dance and brought smiles to faces the second the hair touched the strings. There was dancing, real dancing, the fun kind with stomping and twirling that made people lose their breath without even minding because of how fun it was. There was food, there was art, there was singing, there were people- tons of them.

There was a prince.

Yakko hadn't seen him before.

He was a dog- likely no older than Yakko himself. He looked like he was trying to have a good time, but the outfit he was put into was clearly not meant for this level of activity. His hair was messy, with a crown crooked on his head. His eyes were dark like a smoky quartz, and they were looking around the room, attempting to calm an anxiety within (Yakko could relate to that).

The prince made eye contact with Yakko.

Yakko looked back.

"Yakko! Who're ya looking at?" Wakko appeared out of the blue, tugging on Yakko's sleeve and snapping him out of the trance.

"N-no one," He lied. It wasn't like he knew who he was, though he was a prince and most certainly not a nobody.

"But you were looking at someone, telllll meeeee," Wakko tugged on his sleeve.

"Weren't you drawing with chalk?" Yakko huffed.

"Yeah, but you were making heart eyes and I wanted to see," Wakko crossed his arms, huffing right back.

"I-i wasn't actually making heart eyes, right?" Yakko panicked. Wakko and Dot giggled.

"No, but you looked really silly," She grinned cheekily. Yakko rolled his eyes.

"You should talk to him," Dot said, pointing to the prince.

"Put your arm down, it's rude to point," He put her arm down for her, embarrassed. Dot giggled more.

"Talk to him or else we will," She smirked.

"Nope- uh- that's alright, I can talk to him," Yakko quickly said, already making his way to the mysterious prince, Wakko and Dot watching a bit from behind, before Yakko gave them a look and they (wisely) scattered.

Yakko was about halfway there when he realized he had no idea what on earth he was supposed to say to him. He hadn't interacted with someone his age since- well... ever. Much less someone who made him feel like this.

He should've prepared more. He had read many books on romance and even just social interaction. He had read numerous social interactions, both good and bad, and yet his mind was blank as to what to say.

Well, it looked like he was going to have to improvise because before he knew it, his feet had dragged him over and he was right beside the prince, with just enough distance not to be noticed by him yet.

"Okay Yakko, you get one shot," He whispered to himself in preparation. God- he hadn't felt this nervous in a while.

"So... you... come here often?" He asked. The prince turned and looked at him, slightly startled.

"A-aren't you the crown prince?" He asked, his face flushing slightly.

"Oh my god- that was a terrible introduction," Yakko facepalmed. To his surprise, this made the prince laugh.

"It's cool, I-i can get nervous too," He said.

"Sorry, yeah. Can I- uh, start over?" Yakko asked, laughing nervously.

"Okay," The other prince laughed too, which made Yakko's heart flutter a bit.

"My name is Yakko Warner of- well- Warnernstock, but I think you figured that out," Yakko held his hand out.

"I'm Prince Max Goof of Disneyland," Max said, shaking it.

"Disneyland, huh? that's not too far away," Yakko said.

"We border Warnstock, though the castle is right in the middle of the country so it did take a few hours," Max nodded to himself.

"Sooo... what's it like there?" Yakko asked, internally cringing at just how terrible this conversation was. He usually loved talking- why was he so bad at it now?

"It's- uh- well- it's interesting," Max said, scratching the back of his neck. "My dad works with my uncles Mickey and Donald in running the kingdom, and we technically have a really big family that can get pretty overwhelming at times," He explained. "Used to be more, but Mom died when I was born and Uncle Oswald died in a war when I was 5."

"I thought my mom was dead for awhile, so I kinda relate," Yakko said.

"Your grandma is dead too, right?" Max asked.

"Yeah, but that's not a bad thing," Yakko said, just now realizing that the conversation took an odd turn.

"Don't doubt that, from what I've heard," Max laughed, which made Yakko relax.

Maybe this wasn't going terribly.

"But yeah, it's interesting there. What's it like over here in Warnerstock? It's my first time," Max asked.

"It's chaotic too. My grandma-" Yakko paused, not really sure how much he wanted to share. He had just met Max, he didn't want to scare him away this early.

"My grandma was... a piece of work, but my parents are pretty cool," Yakko said, scanning around for them, and finding them on the dance floor happy as can be.

"And I have two younger siblings, so that's... fun," He added, suddenly becoming aware of just how weird and... deeply wrong his life had been up to this point.

"Oh yeah, I think I've seen them around. I think your brother tried drawing chalk around where I was standing so I tried to move but he wouldn't let me till he was finished," Max recalled.

"Sorry- they can be a real handful," Yakko blushed, embarrassed.

"Yeah, Dot and Wakko can stir up a lot of chaos," Yakko tried to say so with a happy, fond look at their mischief, but instead memories of the times it got them in serious trouble flooded his mind, and he frowned.

"Are you- uh- okay?" Max asked.

"I'm... fine. I'm fine," Yakko shook his head, forcing the memories down. "I'm sorry, I just... it's been a lot lately."

"I can believe that, from what I've heard," Max nodded, his eyes soft and sympathetic. Yakko could only nod.

"But hey, at least things are looking up now, huh?" The foreign prince did his best to lift his spirits.

"That is one way to look at it," Yakko agreed, forcing down the knotted feeling in his stomach.

There was a pause, neither prince knowing what to say, each unsure of their emotions, or where to go next in their conversation.

"So... what's your family like?" Yakko asked, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"My dad is... well, he's something alright," Max looked away, embarrassed.

"What do you mean?" Yakko raised an eyebrow.

"He's- well... Goofy. That's his name," Max shrugged. "Though my uncles are pretty cool, though they aren't my uncles in the literal sense," He quickly shifted the subject.

"That must be cool. Both of my parents were only children," Yakko didn't push.

"Yeah. But that doesn't mean it's all great, I'm still an only child. I'm sure it's great to have some siblings around," Max said.

"They do keep things interesting," Yakko snorted, looking through the crowd, finding them spying on him yet again. He shot them another look, and the two scattered.

"But I don't know anyone my own age really, and at times I've felt more like a parent than a sibling," Yakko admitted, though he didn't know why.

"I don't know anyone my own age really either," Max said.

"But... I could know you, if you want," He offered. Yakko looked at him, and found he was blushing and looking away.

"I wouldn't mind that," He said, a small smile growing on his face. Max looked at him and smiled back, the fluttering feeling returning.

"You're really-..." Cute? Pretty? Handsome? Yakko knew a thousand words but he had no idea how to describe Max's appearance, especially in a way that made sense.

"Cool?" Max seemed to know his plight.

"Yes! Cool," Yakko snapped his fingers, which made Max laugh.

"You're... cool," He said.

"Thanks," Max punched his arm lightly. "You're cool too."

Another pause. Yakko was becoming increasingly aware that he simply had no idea how on earth to talk to anyone who wasn't a family member. He had no idea what normal things for people like Max were.

Yakko realized he had no idea how to be a kid.

"Do you wanna dance?" Max asked, snapping him out of the train of thought.

"O-oh, uh- I'm a terrible dancer, I couldn't possibly-" Yakko made excuses as his eyes went to the dance floor, where he discovered his parents were watching him too. They both had goofy grins on their faces and gave him a big thumbs up and Yakko's face turned bright red.

"Oh I'm a terrible dancer too, I just figured it'd be fun. I've been observing them long enough, I think I figured it out," Max said.

"Well I guess if you really want, we can be terrible together," Yakko couldn't look him in the eyes, his face still as red as a tomato.

"I-i mean if you don't want to..." Max put his hands in his pockets.

"No, it- it'll be fun. Let's do it," Yakko shook away the flustered feeling, holding his hand out for Max. Max took it.

"I'm not joking when I say I'm a terrible dancer though. I once had to dance with a lady and I nearly tore her dress because I kept stepping on it," Max admitted sheepishly as Yakko took him towards where the people were dancing.

"Well lucky for you, I'm no lady and have no dress to tear," He said, surprised at his sudden wit. Good- maybe that meant he stop embarrassing himself and have a good conversation.

"Y-yeah," Max said. God- he was just so-... so-

Yakko was starting to get annoyed at his suddenly small vocabulary.

"I think I actually know this dance. I'll wait for an opening and then you can follow my lead," Yakko told him.

"Ok-okay, if that's what you want then-" Max couldn't finish his sentence before Yakko found an opening and before he knew it, they were pulled into a dance.

Yakko was thankful he actually paid attention to the book on dances and read the full thing, because while his grandmother had only wanted him to read the formal, ballroom dances, he read the whole thing through and found the town dance section and now knew what he was doing. A luck Max clearly didn't have, but that almost made it more fun. He had only just met Max, but it was clear Max trusted and liked him to some extent, and Yakko felt the same. There was just something about him Yakko couldn't describe.

"Relax, it's all fun," Yakko said to him, and Max loosened up a bit, making the movement a lot easier. Soon, the speed picked up, and the stomps and jumps intensified and the rest of the world just melted away, as all the boys were focused on were each other. Sure, there were a few times that they stepped on each other's feet or they were off from everyone else, but they just laughed it off and continued having fun.

Fun.

Despite how much Yakko embarrassed himself, he was having fun.

Hell- this was probably the most fun he had ever had in his whole life. All of his previous stress and anxieties melted away- this was fun.

Max was fun.

Yakko really, really liked him.

Eventually, after a long while of dancing, the song came to an end, and Yakko and Max were left panting as they stood close to each other. For a moment they looked into each other's eyes, before realizing where they were and both taking a step back.

"Well that was- well-" Max really wasn't one for words, was he?

"It was fun," Yakko said for him. The foreign prince nodded.

"It was fun," He grinned a little.

"You totally lied to me though, you're a good dancer," Max punched his arm again. Yakko laughed.

"I meant more like- ballroom stuff. I'm so terrible at ballroom dancing, my grandmother basically banned me from dancing," He snorted.

"I've basically banned myself- I dance a lot like my dad... usually," Max said. Yakko had never met Goofy, but from the name alone he could get a pretty good picture.

"Don't sell yourself short, you were pretty good," Yakko encouraged as they began to walk back to their previous place.

"Yeah... well... thanks," Max said. "I..." He stopped to think about his words.

"I don't have a lot of friends... especially those my age. People usually find me- well- awkward and weird and... like my dad, basically. But you're... you're cool," He managed to say.

God, Yakko could relate to that.

"You're cool too," Yakko said, looking him in the eyes.

They stood in an entranced silence for a little while, before they heard the music start up again, and they watched the dancers for a while.

"So... what do you like to do? Got any... hobbies?" Max asked.

"I read and study a lot," Yakko shrugged.

"You like studying?" Max genuinely questioned.

Yakko thought about that. "I mean... I think so? I don't know... I guess I just do it a lot."

"Ah," was all Max could really say to that.

Stupid trauma.

"What about you?" Yakko switched the conversation.

"I like doing sports, they're one of my bigger strengths," Max replied.

"That makes one of us- I'm pretty sure no one can be less pathetic than me," He snorted. "Even my seven-year-old sister is better at sword fighting than me."

"And it's not like I don't have the genes or anything- my dad's a knight for crying out loud, I don't know why I have a bad case of noodle arms," Yakko joked, which made Max laugh.

"You don't have to be physically strong, being smart is equally as good," he said.

"Until you have to protect people," Yakko thought to himself.

"Yeah," He said aloud.

Stupid, stupid trauma.

"Besides, I could try and give pointers if you wanted," Max said. That snapped Yakko out of those thoughts in an instant.

"P-pointers? When would we do that?" He asked. Max shrugged.

"I dunno. But what I do know is that you can visit my kingdom anytime, uncle Mickey and my dad love guests," He invited.

"Is... is that normal?" Yakko asked. Max blinked.

"Yeah? Did- have you never had any guests at your castle?" He asked, trying his best not to sound weirded out.

"Outside of the occasional ambassador and ball, no," Yakko admitted.

"Well, then I guess you'll definitely have to come over sometime," Max said.

"Yeah... I guess I will," Yakko managed to smile.

Suddenly, it dawned on Yakko how late it was becoming. The crowds grew smaller and smaller, as the sun had set hours ago. He looked around and saw someone wearing the emblem of Disneyland who looked like they were watching over Max sitting and possibly waiting for them to be done so he could take him home. Yakko frowned.

"You have to go now, don't you?" Yakko asked. Max looked at the man Yakko had noticed. He sighed.

"It is really late... don't get me wrong though- this was easily the most fun I've had in a long, long time," Max said. "I just- I have to go home eventually."

"No, trust me, i get it," Yakko smiled softly at him. Max returned the look.

"I'll... I'll see you again though, right? You'll stop by my castle?" He asked.

"Of course," Yakko nodded seriously.

The man across the way seemed to take notice of the lack of conversation, making his way towards the pair. Yakko sighed.

"I'll see you later then," He said.

"Yeah, see you," Max didn't know what to do so he punched his arm lightly before waving and going with the guard.

"See you..." Yakko said to himself, watching him go.

Max sure was something...

"Did you have fun tonight?" A voice from behind startled Yakko.

"Oh mom- it's just you," He relaxed. "Yeah- I did."

"Your siblings are both practically asleep, not that I'm surprised," Lena chuckled. Yakko scanned the area for them and found them both curled up by the bonfire. He snorted.

"That's Wakko and Dot alright: boundless energy until they crash," He said. Lena nodded.

"Who was that prince?" His mother asked with a slight smirk. Yakko blushed.

"His name is Max, he's from Disneyland," He said.

"Disneyland... I haven't heard from them in a long time," Lena thought out loud.

"Well, he seems to really like you," She looked back at him.

"He's cool," Yakko shrugged.

"Just 'cool?'" Lena teased. Yakko gave her a weird look. Lena laughed.

"Never mind, you'll figure it all out in due time," She wrapped an arm around him as they began walking back inside.

"What about Wakko and Dot?" Yakko asked, looking back at them.

"Your father will carry them to bed, they'll be fine," Lena said. Yakko nodded to himself.

"So... Max, hm? Do you want to see him again?" She asked.

"Can I?" He asked. Lena chuckled.

"Of course, it's been so long since I've spoken to them, and now that I'm queen, a visit or two isn't beyond reason," Lena said.

"Oh right, you are the queen," Yakko realized.

"Strange, right?" She joked.

It was strange, to think of his grandmother in the past tense. She was queen. His mother is queen.

"Yep," He said, before sighing.

"I think I'm gonna go to bed," he said.

"After all that, I bet. Goodnight darling," Lena gave him a hug, which he quickly returned before going back inside without her.

So this was what it was like to be a normal kid... well- attempting to be a normal kid, anyway. Parties, fun, making friends, butterflies...

Yakko was going to have to do a lot more studying this next while to see if he could get a grasp on what it was exactly he felt for Max, otherwise, he was certain he was going to go mad.

Still, despite the emotional swirl in his chest, he knew he had a good time. Max was cool and Yakko liked being around him-- that much he couldn't deny.

Yakko couldn't wait to see him again.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End

[radiosandrecordings]

Crossposting my @summer-in-the-archives-event fic here too. [AO3] [Accompanying beautiful art]

He’d never get used to the rolling fields of quiet.

Miles behind and miles to go, not that he could see any of it through the thick blanket of fog that clung to his ankles, and his wrists, and his eyes. Miles to go before I sleep…

It was hard to describe the rain that fell, because even ‘fell’ felt like too active a descriptor. It didn’t pour, it didn’t ‘beat down’, it didn’t pelt, because those all required a sense of agency that the landscape just felt too apathetic to muster. It simply existed, and just happened to be moving downwards by coincidence.

Jon wasn’t sure if he knew or Knew that it seeped into his clothes, coating his skin, but he couldn’t even feel the droplets landing, even pinpricks of touch creating too much of a sensation for this place. He briefly wondered that, if he still had need for his glasses, would the rain even make the effort to trickle down and cloud the lenses.

The last Lonely domain he’d passed through, he’d never seen the avatar that lorded over it. He didn’t have any real interest in finding out, not like the personal vendettas that lead him to seeking out Jude, or Jared. Because with Peter dead he wasn’t left with any Lonely avatars left to chase, save the vague notions of the Lukas extended family. He was simply going to keep his head down and keep trudging, hopefully emerging through the thick banks of mist before he lost his mind to the monotony. If there was ever something to make you miss muffled cries from beneath the earth…

“Why are you here?”

The sound was accusatory, and may as well have been a shotgun in the silence. The damped chill was nothing in comparison to the ice that shot up his spine. The voice had no clear origin, no figures even silhouetted in shadow against the overgrown grass, but it came in close, delivered on the gentle, numbing breeze. Despite this, though, never in a thousand domains could he forget the sound of it. Of course it was his. Of course. Of course. “Martin?”

“No! ”

The voice sounded… Angry. But hurt, like it flinched away from the word. Like something that had been left to sit in the dark too long, that recoiled back from a stinging source of light.

“... I’m going to assume no one has called you that in a long time.” He tried to keep his voice light, as much as the stifling atmosphere would allow it.

“No one is anything here. It’s easier that way. If you’re somebody, you can be hurt. If you have too much personality, too many little facets and cracks, things start to snag and catch on it, and it drags you down to where things ache. But if you’re nothing, then they don’t have anything to cling onto. You can just slip away unharmed.” The voice sounded like it was moving, curling around him and moving from ear to ear, forward and back as it droned on in that echoing monotone that Jon had hoped he would never hear again, and at the same time, had longed to.

“And what about the good things?”

“There isn’t anything good, not anymore. You saw to that.”

Jon snorted. “Low blow, but fair.” He hesitated for a moment, trying to summon the words.

He’d had time, after he left the Lonely, to consider his actions. Regret pooled like acid in his stomach at the memory, and somehow it hurt more than ending the world. He wouldn’t say it was more important. He knew whatever he felt, and moreso, knew that one human life, was not paramount to the suffering of every creature great and small, but it felt more tangible. When he walked through the hellscapes, they were dreamlike, hazy, information in such clarity but to an extreme where it still felt nonsensical to perceive it as reality. He knew the fundamental truths that surrounded him but it still felt hard to accept them even as he lived them.

Yet despite having lived without it for eight months prior, the space beside him that failed to solidify into Martin still stung with his absence. And Jon regretted it every not-day he spent walking the hellscape, both in knowing he doomed a good man to suffering, or worse, revelry, in this new world, and in the far more personal, and far more selfish, part of him that missed him so goddamn much.

“But- But Martin, I think I made a mistake.”

“Obviously.”

“Not- Not that. I mean, when we were in the Lonely. The- The first time. With Peter Lukas.” The silence droned on, and Jon took that as his cue to continue. “Do you remember what I said? That maybe you were safer here? And that’s… That’s why I let you stay. I didn’t push you to, to leave with me because I thought you wanted to be here, that you’d be safer here than you’d be with me. But I don’t think that was entirely true.”

“I am safe here.”

“Maybe so. It doesn’t mean it’s better though, does it. Martin, I saw those people, in the last Lonely domain. I know it’s different, they were victims and you’re… You’re an avatar, here, you’re feeding off of all of this, but I promise you they were not happy. They were so alone and it didn’t protect them, it just made it worse. Think about it, the logic of this world. There are threats out there of unimaginable horror, and yet they were still assigned here, it’s their worst nightmare. And you were assigned here too. You’re all suffering, just in different ways, but all calculated to be your personal worst.”

“The Martin Blackwood you thought you knew doesn’t exist anymore. He had to be filed down, too many breaks and tears in him that grew and grew, any time someone raised a harsh word. The best way for him to be protected, is for him to go away entirely. You cannot hurt something that doesn’t exist.”

“Are you sure about that? Because you just said ‘I’.”

“What? ” That anger reemerged again, and as staunched as it was it was beautiful, a return to form amongst the dull monotone, reminiscent of the few times Jon had been privileged enough to witness a truly pissed off Martin Blackwood.

Jon found himself grinning. “You said ‘I am safe here’. Emphasis on the ‘I’. Ergo, you still have some form of identity left, and thus I would wager that the part of you left is Martin. Unless I’ve wandered across some other avatar of the Lonely who sounds like him, of course.”

“You’re always so fucking smug, you know that?”

The voice is coming from behind him. Actually, physically, presently behind him and Jon spins around so fast he’s almost dizzy.

And as much as it made his heart soar, and much as he was glad to finally, finally , see him again when he’d thought he never would, Martin looked… Bad.

His skin had darkened, mottled and blotchy with large swathes of a bruise-like blue or sickly green cropping up across his face and neck, or the parts of his forearms visible where his cable knit sleeves rolled back. It was like frostbite from the cold, or some disturbing onset of trench-foot from the damp, corpselike and unsettling. What was worse, though, were the parts that simply ceased. His hair didn’t even reach the tips, simply fading out into a grey static that merged with the mist, and it consumed his eyes whole, tear tracks streaking down his face in patterns of fuzzy, crackling grey that snapped and popped in the silence, far too reminiscent of a tape.

The sight made Jon’s heart clench like a fist, the combination of relief and horror, and in that moment he understood Jane Prentiss more completely than he ever had before. It would’ve felt like a rude comparison to consciously make, the person he cared for most equated to a pulped and writhing mass that churned out creatures that made your skin crawl before tearing into it. But he knew what she had seen in it, that call towards the thing that fascinated you, despite the turning it causes in your stomach.

Despite this, however, Jon steeled himself. This was rapidly becoming a battle, and he couldn’t afford the cost of emotions. He had to keep Martin, well… Martin. Draw out the emotion. In short, be a bit of a bastard. So instead, he cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you liked that about me?”

He could see Martin’s fists clench, the colour of his extremities dyed black from frostbite. The irritation was still clear as he started into “Fucking hell J-” but they both appeared taken aback as he dissolved into a choking, hacking cough.

It took everything in him for Jon to tamp down the need to surge forward, put a hand on his back and ask if he was okay. It was a strangely mundane thing; the man was made out of static and fog and despite seeming to have an on-and-off-again relationship with his corporeal form, this was the first recognisably human thing to adversely affect him. Why, though? What had Martin done to trigger- Oh. Oh .

“That- That priest from the statement… 0113005? Father Burroughs. He couldn’t say the name of god. Anything related to it, really. And you… You couldn’t say my…”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Martin spat. “You’re not a god or thee god, whatever your new eye magic might imply. It’s just…” He let out a breath that turned into a grumble. While his eyes had always been cloudy, he was now refusing to meet Jon’s gaze.

Regardless, it still drew a breathy laugh out of him. “No, I’m not that far gone into my own self importance yet. But… It’s about the connection, isn’t it?” Something in the conversation had changed, it’s tone or it’s flow, that felt contradicting. Tension coiling up to spring, or they’re barrelling towards a culmination, but at the same time, Jon felt like the wind had been kicked right out of him. He lowered himself to the ground, slowly, settling among the grass and trying to ignore the unpleasant dampness under him. Hey, he could feel the damp again. That was something.

“That’s more flattering, actually, I would say… The Lonely, it thinks if you acknowledge me directly, that would loosen it’s hold on you.” Jon huffed out a breath. “You know I listened to all the tapes. What was it that Daisy said to you, when I was on the run? ‘People say you two are close’? Well, the Lonely appears to agree.” He took a minute before adding, “I would, as well. And, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was too… Too in my own head, before, to admit it. Too much of a coward to do it before that, even. But you need to know I love you. And I know that you… Cared for me, at least? Even if I stuck my head in the sand to ignore it. But the Lonely seems to think you do, still. So will you please come back to me? I know it’s not- I know it won’t be much better, travelling through the domains, but it’s all I can offer and it has to be better than this. I can’t promise anything kind will be waiting for us in London, but you’d be yourself again, and I can’t… Martin, I can’t lose you again. To leave here, again, without you, I’d be losing you. Please.”

“No.”

There wasn’t even a delay to his response, stating it in monotone the second Jon had finished speaking. It felt like ice, lancing through his heart.

“Martin. Martin, please -”

“I said no. I thought you would’ve learned by now; I’m not exactly amenable when you come crawling to me with half baked plans of escape. Because you don’t love me, you love the idea of me. You are quite literally the only free man left in the world and you’re lonely . So you’re looking for a familiar face. Kind Martin, caring Martin, always there with tea and taking your side in every argument. Defending you to Tim when you’d just as soon slag him off behind his back, or on tape. Pretty appealing when everyone else is trying to kill you. At least he treated you like a god before this even started.”

Each sentence felt like another dagger to the chest, and it took him a moment to compose himself, tears forming at the corner of his eyes. Eventually, though, Jon spoke. “That’s not true, though. I- Martin I can’t apologise enough that that’s what it’s felt like, for you. But I need you to know, that isn’t true. A-At the start, maybe, I can’t deny I was stupid and spiteful, but you didn’t deserve any of it. And after that… I didn’t do a one-eighty and decide you were a doormat. I liked you because you were secretly enough of a prick as well. Any time you’d pull me out for lunch when I dragged my heels, or argued back when I said something shitty, that was… It felt like I was seeing the real you. The one you didn’t want to let people think of you as, but the one you were, because despite wanting to appear like the picture of innocence, you are a bitch, Martin Blackwood. And that’s my favourite thing about you. Maybe time is sweetening my memory, slightly, but I truly don’t believe there’s rose coloured glasses here. If we walk out of here, I’m not under any sort of illusion that it’ll be a honeymoon. We will doubtless find something to argue over, if not several, but I want that. I want you at my side to, to disagree and point out all my blind spots. We’re both stubborn bastards but I’m stupidly fallible, and I need you to keep me balanced. I don’t want a yes-man, I want you, Martin, and I’m asking for that knowing full well what it entails.”

When the words stopped flowing, he found himself gasping for breath, sobs building in his chest and threatening to spill over. But Martin was standing closer.

“That’s- I don’t- Fuck.” As Jon looked up, wiping at his own eyes, he could see fog starting to trickle from Martin’s mouth, coming in short bursts as his nostrils flared and chest rose and fell noticeably for the first time that Jon had seen since he stepped foot onto the moors. This caused a conflict of emotion in Jon, because while it seemed to be another step towards humanity, Martin letting the Lonely fall to the wayside in favour of reclaiming himself, it also looked far too close to a panic attack to be something worth celebrating.

“I don’t understand,” he finally settled on, voice cracking on the words. He slowly let himself sink to the ground opposite Jon, knees pulled up to his chest. “I left you. Time and again I left you. I left you to work with Lukas, and I left you when you tried to get me to run away, and I left you when I stayed on the beach.” His palms were pressed into his eyes, mist seeping from between his knuckles as he dragged them across his face, though Jon couldn’t be sure if he was attempting to wipe the fog away, or if he was stalling while he faltered, trying to summon the words. Both, maybe. Jon took the silence from him.

“You didn’t really choose that, though. You didn’t feel like you even had a choice. So Martin if… If you’re worried that I think badly of you for that, I don’t. Martin, I’ve done so many terrible things, so to- No, no, actually I don’t mean it like that. I don’t mean that you’re a good person, compared with me. I think you’re a good person full stop. And I just want you to be able to see that. I know the Lonely is quite literally clouding your judgement right now but… Please, just, just make me a deal?”

Martin’s palms were resting on his chin now, cupping his cheeks and curving around his neck. He nodded once, wearily, for Jon to continue.

Jon drew in a breath “I think I’m in some sort of… Bubble. Like a miniature domain, when I’m travelling. I think, if you agree to come with me, even for a little bit, that might dissolve some of the Lonely’s more adverse effects. Make it easier to think, to, to be yourself without its influence. If that is what happens, and you want to return… I’ll bring you back. But please, just… Try? For me?”

Martin sighed, hands dropping from his face. “...Fine.”

“You- Really?”

“Yes. I… Look, J-” Martin bit back another coughing fit. “Look. I am… There is a lot of me right now that wants to leave. The fog is… It’s in my head, figuratively, probably even literally, but… I remember something Basira said. When she got back, from, from The Unknowing . Melanie wanted to know how she got out, when the other three… When you, and Daisy, and Tim, didn’t. She said she reasoned her way out. So I’m going to listen to reason for a minute, as much as it’s paining me.”

Despite those final words, Jon felt his face crack into a smile. “That’s… Yes, you’re right. Well that’s… That’s a very reasonable connection to make.”

And for the first time in a long time, Martin smiled.

“Uhm, so how does this work then?” He eventually said, hand coming up again to scratch the back of his neck in an old nervous habit Jon could not be more happy to see.

“Well”, Jon said, taking a moment to brush sodden grass from his trousers as he got to his feet, “I would say, based on the dream logic that everything here seems to run on here, it should be rather simple.” He held out a hand to tug Martin up after him.

Martin took it.

It was almost cliché, how the Lonely fell away from him. It only took a few seconds, all in all, for the bruising to fade, receding their colourful splotches until his skin lay clear again. His frostbitten fingers healing themselves, sewing broken skin back together and returning to a healthy colour. His face, too, was returning to its original pallor, the change creeping up his neck and across his cheeks and leaving rich brown in its wake. Dark eyes stared down at Jon from behind long lashes, blinking away the last of the fog. He was beautiful.

“Hi,” Jon managed to choke out.

“Hi,” Martin said, and pulled him into his arms.

Jon just let himself be held in the pressure of the embrace for a moment, before bringing a hand up to card his fingers through Martin’s hair. While it had solidified into soft curls, the colour had stayed the same, bleaching it white under his fingertips. He wasn’t sure if Martin had noticed or not, but that was a conversation for another time. They were both a little preoccupied for the moment.

“How do you feel?” Jon eventually said, words pressed into the side of Martin’s neck.

“Uhm. Strange?” Martin eventually settled on. “It’s… I can remember what my thought process was, what the Lonely was pushing me to believe, but it’s like… It’s like the camera panned out, and now I can see it all clearly, and it looks… It looks stupid. Thank you, Jon. For coming to get me.”

“Of course,” Jon whispered, “Of course.”

Another moment passed before Martin spoke up again. “...Did you mean what you said, though? Or was that… Was that just to try and get me to leave? I- I won’t be angry, if it was, that- that’s very clever, I just want to know.”

Jon furrowed his brow. “Which part do you mean?”

Martin let out an agitated sigh. “You- You know which one I mean, Jon. The- The part where that you said that you…”

“That I love you?” Jon said, picking up where Martin trailed off.

Martin’s face flushed, and just the sight of colour spreading across it made Jon’s heart soar, let alone the implications of why . “Of course I did. I- I’m sorry that you would think I would lie about that, even for something like this. No, Martin, I love you. So very much. And I know you might not feel that way anymore, in which case I am very much embarrassing myself here, but I know that you did at one stage so I hope it won’t make things too awkward between us.” “I do, Jon.”

“What?”

“I do. Still feel that way. I love you too, of course I do. My hero.”

It was Jon’s turn to feel his face flush, pleasant warmth bubbling to the surface. “Oh,” was all he managed to stutter out.

“Can I- Jon do you mind if I…” Martin trailed off again, and Jon began to think this might be a recurring theme between them. He’d make it work. He was pretty good at reading Martin, and the eyeline pointed directly at his lips made intentions quite clear.

“Is- Would just the cheek be okay?” He replied. It didn’t really feel like the time for a full run down on where boundaries lay, but he figured it was a start.

“More than,” Martin said, leaning down to press his lips softly against Jon’s cheek. He lingered for a few seconds, skin largely healed but still chapped from the cold, and it was one of the most beautiful things Jon had ever felt. He slipped one hand into Martin’s, and he felt their fingers twine together.

Martin leaned back, clearly trying to calm his grin into something more close-lipped and calm. “Where to now then?”

“Uhm. Forward, really, is just how I’ve been going. There isn’t any real sense of geography to it, we’ll just…. Get there when we get there.”

“Right. Because nothing can be simple these days.”

Jon missed this. He missed him. But he didn’t have to miss him anymore, did he? He was right there.

He squeezed his hand once, and started leading the way.

[wordynerdygurl]

Hello Everyone! I've been conspiring with @sammy-jo1977 to create a new series of sorts. We want to explore all those characters that started us on our journey into Fandoms, large and small.

This series will be a place for those ladies and gents who haven't had a lot of attention recently, are old favorites or the ones you can't seem to shake. If you would like to contribute a chapter to this guide, please send me a message! We want to have a full and accurate guide, so we are hoping you'll hop in with your character of expertise!

As an example, I'm posting our first story... I'd love to get your thoughts! With Love - Your WordyNerdyGurl

In The Stacks - A Rupert Giles Story

Author’s Note:  This story is due, in large part, to my beta-bestie @sammy-jo1977 and it is part of the afore mentioned series.  This character might be off television, but his fiery spirit lives on!! As always, reblogs/ shares are encouraged as are comments and love!

Pairing:  Female Reader x Giles (Buffy The Vampire Slayer Series) Summary:  You get up to mischief with the librarian, in the stacks. Warnings:  SMUT ahead.  General Buffy knowledge might help, but is not required.  There’s a moment with a bit of blood, but hopefully nothing too triggering for anyone! I hope you enjoy!

“Mr. Giles?” “Just a moment!”  You heard the clipped British voice answer before being drowned out by the heavy thumping of falling books and the rustling sound of shifting papers hitting the floor. As you stepped further into the Sunnydale High library, you weren’t surprised to see the familiar faces of Buffy, Willow, Xander and Cordelia huddled around a small table.  The friends were practically inseparable and clearly close.  You found their kinship adorable and couldn’t help smiling at the group as you drew closer. “Hello to some of my best students!  And of course, to you Mr. Harris.  How is everyone today?”

Willow, stalwart student and overachiever, smiled broadly, “Pretty good.  I did ace my math quiz and got an A on my English paper… but, well, I only pulled a B on my Bio test and I just know that I could have done better.” Offering her friend a consoling pat to the shoulder, Buffy sighed, “It’s ok, Will.  You’ll get those cells next time!” “Tune in next week as Willow passes her AP Biology test with flying colors, on ‘As Sunnydale Turns’!” Before anyone could counter, Giles came around the corner carrying a sturdy stack of texts which he dropped onto the table as gently as the large load allowed, “As always, you four are the best assistants a librarian could ask for.” “Come on Giles!  You know I only hang out here for the beautiful ladies!” Pinching the bridge of his strong nose, Rupert Giles sighed, “I am well aware of where your interests lie, Xander.” “Please, he can hardly handle being with one beautiful girl.”  That was from Cordelia who pouted prettily, her hand mirror open as she fixed her hair. “My girlfriend, ladies and gentlemen!  Thanks for that, Cordy.” Snapping the case shut, staring down her beau, she smiled, “You’re welcome.” “Uh, Mr. Giles, if I may?”  You hated to interrupt but you had come in with a purpose and you meant to see it through. “Yes, of course, how can I help?” Shuffling your feet, a bit nervous now with the asking, you smiled shyly, “I asked at the local library but they were absolutely no help.  You see, I’m looking for a specific point of reference and I was led to believe that you could help me.” “Oh!  Is it something for our Inner Vision collage boards?  I love working on mine, only… It’s not my fault that I only see dark clouds and blood when I close my eyes.” “Well, Miss Summers, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  And the best art challenges us to see that beauty.” “I hate to tell you what I see when I close my eyes.”  Xander retorted. “Ah, Mr. Harris, your collage certainly showcases your, ahem, cultured world view.” “Hey!  The Simpsons are fine art, ok?  Just because they don’t live in a museum doesn’t mean they aren’t culture.” Giles, unable to stand by any longer griped, “Xander, I am almost positive that cartoons do not count as culture.” You started to answer but Buffy cut you short, adding, “Don’t mind Giles.  If it doesn’t come out of some dirty, dusty old book it can’t be culture.” “It’s pop culture!  The entertainment of my generation!” It was your turn to cut in, turning to the tweed clad gentleman, “Actually, Mr. Giles, Xander has a point.  Cartoons and animation in general are all increasingly seen as valid forms of art.  No matter what your tomes might tell you.” Smirking a little, he appraised your answer before replying, “Be that as it may, Mr. Harris, the amount of television you consume is corrosive.” Raising his hands in defense, Xander’s head swiveled between the two of you as Willow chimed in, “Give it up, Xander.  You know you’ll never win and besides, I’m pretty sure that animation and art are different.  Wait.  They are, aren’t they?” “When I was in Rome last summer, the very attractive, very Italian tour guide told us that they’ve found painted graffiti on the Coliseum.  It only goes to prove that times change but people don’t.” “Cordy’s right!  About the art, not the dishy Italian.  And they didn’t paint it, they carved it.”  Bouncing her blonde hair decisively, Buffy made her declaration.   “Wouldn’t paint be easier?  I mean, who wants to carry a chisel in order to deface a wall?” “Oh!  Oh!  I know this!  The kind of paint needed to last for centuries hadn’t been invented yet!”  Willow, lifting out of her seat in the excitement of academic excellence, was giddy. “Yes, Willow, that is correct.  In fact, a lot of the graffiti is simple and very crude.  Mostly of the phallus, if memory serves.  I’m sure I can find a documented case in Agrippa if you’ll all just-” And you watched as everyone rolled their eyes as Giles trailed off, lost now in the hunt for a specific volume which could be sited, should further proof be needed. “Ew.  Pass.” “I’m with Buffy here, Giles.  Keep your Grecian graffiti out of my brain.” “I’ll stick with the Simpsons, thank you very much.” “Yes, well.  It’s not Grecian at all, is it?  It’s Roman-” Smiling broadly, Buffy hopped off the table, “Giles is right.  The Greeks were more into orgies!” “Buffy!”  Willow’s shocked response made you cover a laugh with a fake cough. “-Of course, cites are rare.  Very difficult to find documentation.”  Giles, typically, hadn’t given up the search. Cutting through the chatter, louder than it ever needed to be, the period bell sounded. "Ugh.  Gym class for me.  Why is this even a thing?" "I don't know Buffy, I thought you liked showing off in your little shorts and beating the boys at basketball." "Cordy, that's enough.  And while us boys do love looking at you, Buff... we don't love the beatings you regularly deliver." "Well, I have a free period Giles!  Do you want me to stay and -" Snapping shut the leather book he was gripping, Giles caught your eye and turned to the peppy student, "Uh, no Willow, I don't think so.  I believe I need to see what our Art Department is in need of at the moment." With a shrug, Willow began packing up her belongings as Xander slung his back back over his shoulder, "Will, you can come with me.  I'm going to find a nice little corner, under a tree, and sleep away my study hall." “But, I… I could help find the Agrippa?  Or… some other old Roman book?” Xander wrapped an arm around Willow and took Cordelia’s open hand, “But why do that when nothing calls?” "Another fine example of your scholastic aptitude, Mr. Harris", was your parting shot at the foursome as they walked out the door. "Well. Mr. Giles, now that we’re alone… Could I talk you into helping me out?" “Of course, of course.”  Pushing his glasses further up his nose, fixing his light eyes on yours, “What are we looking for?” Sighing deeply, knowing the chances were slim, “I was hoping we would find some examples of Pre-Columbian deity carvings.” Pausing, his look serious, Giles peered at you, “Interesting.  Anything in particular?” “Yes, actually.”  Again you flushed, more than a little flustered at what you were really looking for, “I’m researching fertility icons.” Raising his eyebrows, Giles started, more than a little outside of his comfort zone, but you had to give him credit.  He recovered from the shock rather quickly, “Oh… I… I see.  Well yes, I’m sure we can find… something.  If you’ll follow me, please.” “I’m right behind you.”  Biting into your bottom lip, you smiled to yourself.  Right behind Mr. Giles?  What a place to be.  Giles led the young art teacher through the deepest stacks of the library, pausing once or twice to confirm that she was keeping up with him.  He was ashamed to admit that he had lost travelers a time or two as he stalked through his overstuffed shelves, knowing instinctively where to find the book he needed most. For her, watching the tweed covered bottom of Mr. Giles was no hardship.  True, he was older and tad bit reserved in the best British way, yet she had the sneaking suspicion that underneath all the wool and starched cotton was the heart of a wild man poet. "Uh... just a bit further, I'm afraid.  Books like this, well, I keep them at a greater remove." "It makes sense.  Don't want the kiddos getting a hold of anything too tantalizing." "Of course not.  As you well know, they don't need much help in the libidinous response department." You chuckled softly, nodding as the air around you grew stuffier, "Too true!  You should see what some of them turn in and call art.  It would make a blind man blush." And at the mention of blushing, you were shocked to see a rosy hue grow on Mr. Giles' cheeks.  You liked it.  It reminded you of the high color in a Vermeer painting.  You couldn’t help the flutter in your belly at the thought, "Mr. Giles, have you ever seen a South American fertility statue?" "I can't say that I have... have... have you?"  Something about the idea of you examining an ancient artifact directly connected to sexual congress made his body stir.  "Hmm... Oh, yes.  I was able to study in Mexico for a semester.  Some of the art work is just incredible and the carvings, they're truly magnificent.  Carefully made.  Usually stone or..." swallowing hard, your throat suddenly dry, "hard wood." Breaking fast at the implication in your words, Giles froze in place which caused you to press directly against his broad, vest covered back.  You had a second to register the soft scent of his aftershave; something spicy and masculine, which made your mouth water.  Moaning quietly, you offered a weak apology, “Oh, I am so sorry, Mr. Giles.” Offering you his profile, the bookcases too cramped for him to turn around fully, you saw his sweet smile, “That’s… that’s quite alright.  In fact, we’re here.” Stepping out of the way, you pushed back against the opposite wall, the shelves digging into your spine in the confined space.  Giles bent over, giving you a great view of his backside, as he extracted a slim book from the bottommost ledge.  When he stood up, directly in front of you, the narrow, book covered alcove caused him to stumble. Giles’ chest collided with your own, forcing the air out of your lungs.  Instinctively, you lifted a leg, curling it over the swell of one trousered hip and lifting the hem of your knee length plaid kilt.  Nose to nose in a compromising position, you exhaled a shaky breath as Mr. Giles inhaled, “Close quarters around here.” Shifting under his deceptively hard figure, it was difficult to ignore all the places that were firm to the touch, especially when you could feel so much through the thin barrier of your cotton panties.  Bracing one arm on the obliging shelf biting into your shoulder, Giles pushed back a bit, lifting his weight off of you without making any other attempts to move away.  He was so close now.  Close enough to feel your fuzzy sweater and all the soft skin that trembled beneath it.  Close enough to see the pound of your pulse in your throat.  Close enough that when you licked over your bottom lip Giles could almost taste it too.  And why shouldn’t he?  “Giles?”  Your voice was whisper soft, fanning hotly over the face of your colleague. “Uh… yes?” “I’m stuck.” Blinking behind his thick lenses, it took the normally quick witted Brit a second to process your words, “You’re stuck?” Nodding slowly, your hair curling over your cheek, “My… My skirt.  It’s… uh, caught.  Caught on something behind me.” “Good heavens!  I’m so sorry, let me help you.”  Slowly, Giles lowered your bare leg to the floor, his hand lingering for a second longer than absolutely necessary.  He was still in your space.  Still incredibly close to you. You arched away from the bookcase in an attempt to free yourself with a groan that sounded heady in the stuffy stacks.  All you managed to do was force your sweater covered décolletage into Giles’ chest.  Stammering, a wave of sweat breaking over his brow, “Allow me?” The way your skirt was caught pulled the bright plaid lower on your waist than you would normally consider decent.  It meant that you had a fleshy strip of skin exposed along your tummy and Giles raised his eyebrows by means of asking permission to touch you.  “Yea, yes.  Please!” Tentatively, gently, you felt the strong fingers of Rupert Giles circle your waist and shivered at the unfamiliar familiarity of his touch.  Your chin rested on his shoulder as he worked and you couldn’t help sighing when he opened his hands and pulled you closer.  Under other circumstances you might have misunderstood the embrace but you were both professionals.  Not that you hadn’t considered the handsome book guardian a time or two before. “I… I think we’re almost there.  If you’ll just, maybe to the right?” “Um, sure.”  Following his directions you twisted in his arms, trying hard not to tear your outfit or rub against Giles.  All the close contact and talk of fertility gods had you feeling a little aroused and it wouldn’t do for your colleague to learn that fact. With a triumphant grunt, Giles set you free, only for gravity to kick back in.  The momentum created by your falling took the gentleman and the entire Grollier’s Gothic Almanac collection with you.  A cascade of papers, scrolls and dust rained down on you both. Coughing, aware that you were laying on something softer than the floor, you struggled into a sitting position, swatting away clouds of disintegrated pages, “Rupert?  Are you alright?” From beneath you a rumbling grumble that sounded like, “Yes quite… you?” was heard.  It was then that you realized exactly where you were.  Straddling your friendly neighborhood librarian, surrounded by debris, but safe, all the same. “Oh my!  I’m so-” “No, No.  Please, don’t apologize.  I’ve been meaning to reorganize this section and well, now it seems I’ve got no choice.” “You’ve got a bump.  Right here…”  Just over his right eye a small bruised egg, the color of lilacs, was starting to rise and you gingerly touched the swelling spot. “Then it will match the one on the back of my head perfectly.” “Poor Giles!  All of this injury in the name of research!” “No one ever tells you the dangers one might encounter in the library.” His dry British wit sent you both into giggles and suddenly nothing could be funnier than the moment you were in with Mr. Giles.  Looking up at you, his fingertip traced over your cheek, suddenly serious, “I’m not the only one with a war wound, it appears.” “Oh?”  Your hand covered his as you realized that you had a small cut, bleeding just a little, over the apple of your jaw.  Smoothing his thumb over your injury, Giles soothed you, saying, “Hush now, I think you’ll live.”  And you watched as Giles sucked the drop of scarlet from the pad there, his green eyes on yours, daring you.  Something about it was so… sinful.  So dark.  So alluring. Then his lips were on yours, suddenly and savagely.  Hands, firm and capable, slid under the fluff of your sweater along your spine as you tangled your own in his dark hair.  Giles, drawing you near, was satisfied only when you were splayed over him, writhing between the piles of text and stacks of piled paperbacks, as his tongue plundered your mouth. Trapped by his bent knees at your bottom, Giles helped center you over the firmness of his excitement, teasing you as you moaned, “Oh, oh Rupert!” “Call me Ripper.”  Before the word had left your throat, Giles was sloppily kissing over your neck, sucking lightly on the skin revealed by the v-neck of your top.  Sitting up quickly, you lifted the soft sweater over your head, tossing it away from you without concern.  Like one of the teenagers you might chastise, you then hugged your lover tight, gasping when you felt the nip of teeth over your bra.  “Giles… Uh, Ripper!  Please, go easy?”  With a hard grip on your upper thigh and one hand on the back of your neck, Giles held you still, smirking, “If you wanted easy you shouldn’t have come looking for fertility icons, my dear little art teacher.  And if this particular article of clothing-” He paused long enough to pinch at your hardening nipple before continuing, “-is dear to you, take it off.” Clenching your abdominals at his crass language, more turned on that you could remember, you reached behind you.  Unhooking the pretty scrap of lace and satin, you shyly covered yourself, biting into your bottom lip, “Fine… Ripper.  Should I be worried for my virtue?” “Absolutely.”  Without waiting for permission, Giles pulled your arms away, exposing your bare body to his blazing gaze, “You have nothing to hide, you know?  You are-” “Just shut up and kiss me, Ripper.”  And he did. Grinding your hips into his, it was impossible to ignore his hardening manhood, even through the fabric of his pressed trousers.  Giles cupped your bottom, under your skirt but over your panties, bouncing you in place as if he was already inside of you.  For your part, you tried to unbutton his pin striped shirt, but the force of his kisses was proving too distracting. “Oh, dear!  Poor thing been kissed senseless?”  He was teasing and cruel, but in the sexiest possible way. Red cheeked and huffing, you nodded, “Yes… let me touch you!” “Tsk… you didn’t say ‘please’.” “Please!  Please, Ripper!  Oh god, please let me!” Unseating you slightly, Giles leaned up on his elbows, cocking his head to one side as he took in the mess he had made of you, “Go ahead then.  Unzip my pants.” “What?” Removing his glasses, eyeing you darkly, “You heard me, I think.” Swallowing hard, your hands shaking with excitement, you reached for Giles’ belt.  Watching him, and only him, you slowly slide the leather from it’s buckle.  When you popped the button of his pants and let your hand drag over his hardened length, Rupert groaned and tossed his head back, “Yes.  Keep going.” Slowly, agonizingly so, you lowered the zipper as you were ordered to do, “What now, Ripper?” “Take me out.  I want you to feel what you do to me.” “I can do that.”  You played it cool, but the saucy words being said in that clipped British baritone did things to you.  They made your thighs tighten, your belly flutter and your breath catch.   Trailing a hand over Giles' barely exposed hip, you moved closer to the prize, your prize, as it pulsed with need.  Wrapping your hand around the meaty girth of Rupert's member, you couldn't help stroking the silky hot skin, so vital in your palm.  That it caused the man beneath you to moan your name only added fuel to the fire of your desire. Slick and sorely wanting, you licked your lips, ready to savor the flavor of your book stacking beau but he stopped you, saying, "Last chance to run back to the studio." "No way… Ripper."  And you felt a rough jerk as your panties were removed by force, the air cool on your overheated core.  Another kiss, full of needful things, distracted you as Giles parted your lower lips with his nimble fingers. Pumping into you, once, twice, just to ensure that you were ready, Rupert swiftly stretched your center.  With your small hand guiding his shaft, you lowered yourself onto the engorged tower of his power, crying out a ragged, "Oh God!" You thought you were capable of handling any man, but the delicious spread Giles' fine form forced you to endure was more than you expected.  Clutching at his bunched up sweater vest, your back arched tautly as Rupert dragged your hips down onto his unrelenting hardness over and over.   In your head, a rhythmic, tribal tattoo that made you think of ancient fires and curved statues took hold and you rose and fell against Giles on the beats vibrating through your brain.  He sensed it too, alternating his stroke, slowing down and speeding up in time with the thrumming pulse only the pair of you could hear.  "I want you to cum for me.  Do you understand?  Tell me you understand." "Yes!  Yes!  I'm so close, Ripper!  So close!" "Good.  That's very good."  Tingling now, your muscles tensed, ready for the release Rupert would provide.  You flung yourself onto his swollen sex without thought or reason, merely searching for the pleasure he had promised.  His thumb, so thick, so clever, pressed against your sensitive clit and your world imploded. Rupert felt it.  The moment your body and his melded together was forceful.  It tore his pleasure from his loins in grunting gasps as he experienced your ecstacy at his hands. Limp and listless, you draped your half nude body over his, dazed and drained.  Who knew screwing the librarian would feel this good?  In your post coital haze you started to laugh.  Giles, his hands roaming over the sweat soaked skin of your back, heard your chuckles and joined in.  It was another release, of sorts, and you found it almost as intimate as the act you had just committed. Folding your hands under your chin, flashing Rupert a wide smile, "Ripper, huh?" Sliding his glasses back into place and carding a hand through his hair, Giles grinned, "Oh, uh… yes.  Ripper.  My nickname in London." Toying with the collar of his shirt, "I'd love to hear about London sometime… Ripper." At the sound of that name in your voice, Rupert flexed inside of you, "Call me that again and you'll miss last period." Gasping against him, nodding weakly, "Hmm… promise?" That made him smile broadly as he handed you back your sweater, "We can't have a repeat of last week, can we?" "It wasn’t my fault you didn't hear the bell ring, Mr. Giles!" Sitting up, you fastened your bra and shrugged into your sweater before asking, "Did you have to destroy my undies?" "I'm afraid I did.  Although I told you to remove anything dear, didn't I?" "What am I gonna do for the next hour, Giles?" Pushing his glasses up, "I would advise you not to bend over." Swatting at him playfully, you used one of the sturdier shelves to stand, adjusting your skirt and fluffing your hair.  Looking around at the absolute mess created by falling books, embarrassed, you asked, "Can I help clean this up?" "No, I don't think that'll be necessary.  After all, Willow will be in-" "Along with Buffy and Xander and Cordelia.  Got it." Standing himself, Giles chuckled as he fastened his trousers and set himself to rights, "Precisely.  Now-" he bent over to retrieve a slim volume, "- The book you asked about.  Fertility iconography in Meso-American subcultures." "Thanks.  Ya know, I always enjoy coming to the library.  I'm surprised more people don't." Walking with you, his hand on your lower back, nuzzling into your neck, "I enjoy you cumming in the library." It was on the tip of your tongue to say something fresh when the overly loud bell clanged.  Lifting up on tiptoes you pressed a kiss to the goose egg over Giles' eye, saying, "I hope that makes it feel better!" Snagging you into a tight hug, Giles stared into your eyes before kissing you deeply, "That.  That makes it feel better." And then the library door swung wide on the four students who called the library a second home, "Um… are my eyes deceiving me or is Giles sporting a black eye?  I was only gone for an hour, big guy, what happened?" "If you must know, Xander, a shelf collapsed in the back.  We were fortunate enough not to be badly hurt but, there were some bumps and bruises." "A shelf!  Oh no… which one?!" Giles turned to Willow solemnly, "I'm afraid all the Grollier’s… and most of Crentist." "On it.  Come on Xander.  You can help me sort!" "Aw, gee.  That sounds like fun." As the pair trotted off, you turned to Giles, whispering low, "Dinner?  My place?  You can tell me about London, your childhood and why you love tweed." Eyeing Buffy, who was distracted and a distraught, Giles answered, "Tonight?  Um…" "He'd love to!  Say 9 o'clock?  And, he'll bring the wine."

Spinning on your heel, surprised that Buffy was your champion, you grinned, "Great!  Awesome!  I will see you then."

As you left you heard the bubbly blonde doling out instructions, "No Giles.  You can't wear that outfit to dinner!  You need to look nice.  Nicer than you do now.  Also, why is there so much dust in your hair?" If Giles answered you didn’t hear it over your big yawn.  You had a lot to do between now and 9 o’clock.  Rupert Giles was coming over for dinner and you could hardly wait.

------ Fin ------- I’m tagging my minxes, even though this is specifically NOT a Loki story.  I do want you guys to send me stories that might fall under the “Hot Characters” banner though!   Minxes:   @scrumptious-finicky-illusion​ @iamverity​ @mizfit2​ @sammy-jo1977​ @wolfsmom1​ @jessiejunebug​ @iluvsumbucky​ @unadulteratedwizardlove @procrastinatinglikeabitch @shxdowofdarkness​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @ahintofkiwistrawberry​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @crystalizedcaramel​ @lokislittlecorner​ @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81​ @caffiend-queen​​ @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​​ @jenjen8675309​​ @that-one-person​​ @roguewraith​​ @toomanystoriessolittletime​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @just-random-obsessions​ @brokenthelovely​ @lots-of-loki​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​

[spiltscribbles]

The One Where No One Is Ready

~Notes: I’m reposting this because I deleted the series off of AO3 <3<3

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Send Me A Friends Storyline/Prompt  |  A Reblog Means EVERYTHING!

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Their is T minus forty-five minutes until James is expected to enter the arena for this year’s Espy awards, where he— a longterm representative of the UK’s top athletes, with a social media following that can rival a B list celebrity’s— will be presenting the award for the best international football player, and rumor has it that Ludo fucking Bagman is going to win. This is a dream come true— more than that even! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!  And it was thanks to his mentor, Minerva McGonagall, that he even can do something that he’s dreamt of doing since his days playing in the child leagues as a lad. It’s going to be one of the best nights of his bloody life. So it only makes sense that his sodding best friends aren’t even taking this with an ounce of seriousness. In fact, instead of doing the decent thing and getting ready as efficiently as possible, those pricks are lounging over the breakfast table goading Sirius into drinking the fat from the icebox that Lily stored for whichever cooking masterpiece she is sure to whip up later this week. Not a one of them even showered.

Bloody blunders.

“Oi, Moons,” Sirius crows loudly, grinning wolfishly down at him with a glint in his steely eyes and a smirk on his face. “Promise if I chug this down you’ll give us a little kiss.”

James feels a migraine coming on.

“In your dreams Black,” Remus retorts,  wrinkling his nose disapprovingly, while Marlene only guffaws and James feels his head literally beginning to pulse with pure exasperation.

Absolute pricks..

“You gits, we’ve got less than an hour till we have to call the cabs. Will you all just get dressed for Christ’s sake.”

“No need for the snappy tone Prongs.” Sirius says with a cluck to his tongue.

“It’ll take us only a tick to get ready,” Remus says, waving him off airily. And James really regrets the fact that he’s moved in with Sirius now that James and Lily are in marital bliss. Sirius’s a bad influence on him, and James should’ve predicted as much.

“Besides, ’s not my fault your wife’s hogging the bathroom,” Marlene tacks on— having dashed over here after her shift at the same firm as James, still dressed in her slacks and leather jacket. 

“Well Marls, you don’t have to get your hair done now that you’ve chopped it off as short as your ears,” Lily defends herself as she steps out the aforementioned bathroom in James’s powder blue robe, thankfully her makeup is set and hair is pulled back into an artful bun and she’s as beautiful as ever. James can’t help but feel his insides go all goopy and his stomach begins to tumble every time she even looks his way, especially when she smiles that private little grin that she only uses on him.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph does he love her to his very core, tells her as much once kissing her softly amidst the groans of the other three. “You are my angel.”

“I know,” Lily preens, green eyes bright and dimples in full effect. “Now I’ve just got to pick out what to wear and we can go.”

James thanks her profusely before pivoting back around to Marlene, begs her to get on with it already.

“Alright, alright potter. God you men only like to rush, no time for foreplay.”

“I like foreplay,” Remus contends as he sits on the loveseat and begins flipping through a magazine Lily’s left laying around, which makes it so Sirius’s face goes wrecked and pale and very nearly makes the cup of fat in his hand fall to the ground— is only saved by James’s old footie reflexes.

“Get it the fuck together man,” James hisses with a glower. But then quickly amends, “But not tonight. Tonight just get dressed for fuck’s sake.” There is absolutely no time to deal with this melodrama between Sirius and Remus that basically amounts to heady glances and licked lips and sexual tension that’s frankly obscene.

Sirius swallows down, hard, and gives a perfunctory nod, but instead of walking across the hall to bloody change already, he only sits besides Remus and grins at him in a very scary, very intense way. James is almost convinced that poor Moony will end up naked and swaddled  in saran wrap— Dexter style— by the end of the night. But he can’t warn him considering that there’s a knock to the door and he finds Dorcas—

 beautiful and elegant in a pale yellow dress that contrasts in a lovely way against her dark brown skin— on the other side. “You look fantastic.” James breathes out, worshipingly.

“I know,” Dorcas beams as she struts in, helping herself to the pita crisps and hummus left out.  “But don’t let Marls hear you else she gets all pouty.”

“Do not!” Marlene yells from the loo, to which Dorcas only silently mouths, does so, over James’s shoulder to a snickering Sirius.

“Right, well seeing as the ladies are all accounted for, we’re just waiting for Wormtail and you berks,” he points angrily at the pair now arguing over the remote. 

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Minnie can be left waiting,” Sirius snorts.

“Our table is at the very front Pads! She’ll see us walking in late! And then they might give my slot to that prick Mulciber!”

“A travesty,” Sirius intones.

“He might be on to something Pads,” Remus points out.  “It takes an hour just for you to primp your hair.”

“Rome wasn’t built in a day Moony!”

“Are you implying that your hair is as extravagant as Rome? Because I think you might be seriously over estimating yourself.” Remus leers, and Sirius only gapes at the lip. God, if James has to watch them dancing around each other for another day he’s going to go rudding gray at the temples.

“You are a plonker Lupin!” Remus narrowly avoids Sirius’s punch aimed for his shoulder, and scurries off across the hall, Sirius’s gaze never leaving his arse all the while.

“That’s lewd,” Dorcas tells him.

“Pitiful from where I’m looking at it.” James snorts.

Sirius only glowers and tosses them the bird. “Come off it.”

“I bet you’d like to come off with’m.” Dorcas sneers, and James actually let’s himself laugh at the increasingly reddening face Sirius has just pulled in retort. Thankfully, none of his curses have a chance to spill out because of Peter strolling in— clad in a suit that’s a little short on the legs  and a little tight in the middle. But he looks presentable at least, which is more than what Sirius could say.

“What’s wrong Pete?” Dorcas asks him as she perches on the armrest of the sofa.

“What do you mean what’s wrong? He’s dressed. He’s brilliant!” James beams, clapping him on the shoulder, noticing a beat too late how Peter’s acting a bit dodgy— hands rinsing in front of him and eyes darting every which way.

“I messaged Marry.”

“Oh Pete.”

“Bloody hell.”

“Why the fuck would you do that!”

The three of them chorus in various tones of disappointment.

“She, erm. Well She posted this picture of her at home with her puppy and I saw a sweater.”

“A sweater?” Sirius repeats, wry as all get out.

“A man’s sweater I mean.”

Dorcas rolls her eyes at him now. “Sweaters don’t have genders Peter.”

“Well this one did!” Peter fumes indignantly. 

James raises his hands, as if he’s calming a spooked animal. “All right, all right. It was a man’s sweater. What did you message her bout it?”

Peter ducks his head once more, flushing pink. “I asked if her new boyfriend is as allergic to Pippa as I was.” Queue another round of discontent moaning.

“You bloody imbecile.” Sirius groans.

“It all just happened so quickly!”

“Things Sirius’s conquests say on their walk of shame for a thousand Alex,” Remus snickers as he steps back inside, fitted in an admittedly fetching, charcoal suit and a different colored tie in each of his hands. “Oh, you all look shifty.”

“Don’t ever criticize my shagging prowess again Lupin!”

“Peter made a mess of things with Marry,” Dorcas says before Sirius can get on one of his tangents.

“Oh Pete.” 

“It happened so quickly,” he tries to explain once more.

Remus only shakes his head and pats his shoulder agreeably. “Sure it did.”

“Well did she read it yet?” Dorcas asks.

“Erm, she was online when I sent her the snap.”

“Oh Peter,” they all groan.

“I need a minute.” He says before retreating to the balcony.

James checks his watch, exactly a half an hour until they all have to go. No time for Peter’s dramatics. Maybe tomorrow James’ll buy him a pint and let him cry over it but they really need to get on with things already.

“C’mon pads, get up.” Remus instructs, trying to tug him off the couch, to which Sirius only smirks.

“You forfeited when you got up Lupin.”

“Oi! I got up to get dressed so James wouldn’t go barmy on us!”

“And I thank you Remus my sweet.” James pipes in while handing Marlene her bag of clothes she had left by the table.

“Pshaw, doesn’t matter. You left it.”

“I left for like five bloody minutes you arse!” Remus shouts.

“So you agree then,” Sirius counters with a cocked brow. “You left it.”

James has to deftly pull Remus away before he pounces on him. “Padfoot don’t be a wanker and just get up and get dressed, won’t you.”

Sirius eyes them both before a look James can’t decipher passes across his face, leaving behind a grim determination. “Righto mates.” He leaps up right then, snatching the cushions up with him, and  swaggering off.

“Oi! What the hell Padfoot!”

“I gave you the seat Lupin.”

“But— But—“ Remus sputters. “You took the  cushions! That’s the entire ruddy essence of the seat!”

“That’s right Lupin!” Sirius glows with far too much smugness for the situation at hand. “I took your essence!”

Remus is left balking after him and James promptly chugs down a handful of Ibuprofen.

“All right boys?” Marlene asks as she strolls out the bathroom in her black dress and heals, pecking Dorcas hello..

“I’m going to murder Sirius bloody Black with my bare hands,” Remus answers, fists tight around his ties and his face scrunched up mulishly.

“I’ll help!” Dorcas crows, before beaming at Lily who’s just clambered in— half dressed with a shawl  in one hand and a different blouse entirely in the other.

“Do you guys reckon I should wear this with my purple pumps, or those new flats I got with a nice pair of slacks.”

“Lily, my love, the angel of my heart, the stars of my night,” James begins, a hand against his chest. “We’ve got twenty-seven minutes till we have to be downstairs.”

“Oh I know love, I just want to look nice for you and your big night,” she says poutingly, kisses his cheek before glancing over at the girls. “Wotcher Dorcas, you and Marlene look lovely.”

“I know,” Dorcas preens.”

“You’re in a jaunty mood?”

“She’s helping Lupin murder Black later tonight,” Marlene explains, lips curled with laughter. 

“Oh lovely.”

“I’ll show him essence,” Remus growls from where he’s still holding vigil to the shut door.

James rolls back his head now, eyes alone definitely not cutting it anymore. “Damn everything.”

“Oh Re you look so smart in that suit,” Lily crows, walking over to him, but begins to cluck her tongue. “But neither of those ties match.”

Sirius used the rest of my ties to use as a rope for his halloween costume last month.”

“Of course he did.”

“He’s dead Lily.”

Lily smooths back his hair dotingly. “Sure he is darling, now c’mon. James has got a wonderful velvet tie that would look ravishing with this fit.” Remus lets Lily drag him away while Still muttering about Sirius and essences and the god forsaken guillotine of all things.

“There’s a video!” Peter shouts as he rushes back inside— blonde hair mussed and cheeks reddening as bright as Lily’s hair.

“Bloody hell Peter!” Marlene scolds, hand pressed to her chest. “Don’t be a git and scare us like that.”

Peter only repeats the fact that there’s a video— of what? James does not know nor does he want to find out. God he just wants them to act mentally sound for one damn night.

“A video!”

“Settle yourself Peter,” Dorcas scolds, a hand on her hip and a scowl twisting her pretty face. James reckons that if she were his history teacher in secondary school he might’ve actually been scared enough not to fall asleep. “Now explain yourself.”

“Mary posted a video of Pippa rolling over and there was a bloke in the background laughing along!”

“You saw a random bloke?” Marlene asks.

“No but I heard’m! Clear as day.”

Dorcas sighs, clamping a hand over his shoulder in solace. “Eh, think logically Peter, you lot only split up a couple weeks ago. I seriously doubt Mary’s gone off and shagged someone else so soon.”

“But I heard’m! Maybe she finally realized she could do better.”

“Oh none of that bollocks Peter Pettigrew.” Marlene bellows, joining her girlfriend to stand in front of him now. “Oi, wasn’t she close with that younger brother of her’s?”

Before Marlene’ even finished asking the question, Peter’s worried expression melts away, brightening ten fold and beginning to  grin like an absolute lune. “Oi McKinnon! You bloody genius! Your right! It’s Marcus! It’s definitely Marcus!”

“Brilliant!” James hurriedly interjects, the time ticking down to only twenty minutes left. “It was obviously, certainly Marcus this entire time. Now why don’t you be a doll Peter and call us the cabs, I don’t want to risk not grabbing one in time. Especially in this miserable weather.”

Peter nods cheerily, picking up his mobile and idly noting that he’s begun to feel a bit peckish.

“There’s some fat in the fridge if you want,” Marlene calls after him, her snickering dining down once the front door to the flat swings open to a harried looking Sirius. James is about ready to row considering that the only notable differences seem to be the fact he’s no longer wearing his DR Martens and his hair’s even more disheveled than before.

“Where is Lupin!”

“Oi, Black! Not the bloody time for your little lovers quarrel.” James snaps.

“He took my pants!”

“Pardon?” Dorcas wheezes with pure delight.

“That sodding little slag stole my pants!”

“You stole my essence!” Remus bellows, storming back into the main room, shirtless and heated. James almost feels bad for Sirius who’s gone all flushed and blotchy at the sight.

“Remus! No, no, no! Why are you getting undressed! We want you all to be fully damn clothed!”

“Oh, that was my doing,” Lily pipes in, thankfully clad in a lovely, green number that brings out her eyes. “I thought that if Remus changed into one of your white undershirts that it’ll help accentuate  the purple tie.”

James really wishes he could stay properly angry at Lily for longer than a second at a time so that he can rebuke them for this little dress up game. But alas, he simply can not, so he’s only left to nod like a daft idiot at her explanation.

“And then I smelt rubbish and so I knew Sirius had returned.” Remus snarls.

“I smell like a fucking field of daisies!”

“Bet your trousers won’t smell that way after an entire  night pantsless,” Remus sneers, and James silently  reminds himself never to cross the scrappy bugger, (It’s always the quiet ones indeed).

“That’s not on Moony! I don’t want to have my bits out for show, everyone will be focussed on their magnificence over poor Jem and his little presenting gig.”

Heatedly, James tosses him the bird.

“Then give me back the essence!” Remus retorts caustically.

“Fine Lupin, you want to play it this way. Game on!” With one final, haughty harumph, Sirius dashes over to his own apartment and Remus only scoffs as he rounds back to the bedroom. 

“What does that even mean! Absolutely nothing that’s what! Damn arse!” Remus grumbles to himself, slamming the door shut after Lily follows, still barefoot herself.

Discretely, James checks his watch once more, feeling a looming sense of dread once realizing that there’s only fifteen minutes left until they have to be out the door.

“Hiya Marcus,” James swings his head up so quickly that he swears he’s got vertigo, but at least Dorcas and Marlene look just as concerned from where they’re also gawking at Peter. “I just wanted to see if you were in town— Oh yeah, yeah. I thought I heard you on the back of that last video Mary posted.”

“Hang up Pettigrew!” Marlene hisses, trying to grab for the phone and is elbowed out the way for her trouble.

“Oh yeah, she did block e after the whole snag with me running over her cat. But you know how it is, making a fake account— Oh, erm I didn’t think it was that weird really.”

“Hang up Peter!” James yells, feeling absolutely hopeless. “Hang up the damn mobile!”

“I know plenty of people who do that! No need to get all shirty!” Peter hisses at Marcus, the color slowly draining out of his face. “No, no you don’t need to tell Maz, ’s not that serious!”

“I need a bloody shot.” Dorcas moans.

“What’s happened?” Remus asks from where he and Lily stroll out the bedroom, fully dressed thank god and both glancing over at a sweating Peter with concern.

“Mary’s surely going to getting a restraining order,” Marlene says with no context, shrinking back when the flat’s door opens once more to Sirius.

“You mad wanker,” James breathes out, not even having enough wits about him to shout. Sirius is standing there, absolutely drowning in countless sweaters pulled up over one another and sweat pants over sweat pants.

“What the bloody hell are you doing!” Remus screams.

“You take my pants, and I wear all your clothes Lupin,” Sirius grins glowingly, eyes glinting with pure mischief.

“You’re going to stretch them all out you absolute beast!”

 “I’ve got to say Moons, your sweats are real comfortable without any pants, nice and soft.” Sirius does a forward lunge right then, wiggling around for good measure. So James really shouldn’t be surprised when Remus actually pounces, knocking him over to the ground.

“My money’s on Lupin, the scrappy bugger,” Marlene cackles.

“I can’t believe I did that,” Peter groans, slamming his head against the table, while Sirius and Remus continue to writhe on the ground like a pair of bloody mutts in heat.

“Get it together you plonkers! We need to leave in ten minutes!”

“He, oof, he took my essence!”

Sirius beams victoriously when he finally gets Remus beneath him and pulls up for breath, “You took my pants before I ever did that Lupin.” 

“Because you’re a insufferable  berk!” Remus hisses, wiggling around and canting forwards, both his and Sirius’s faces going suddenly red, and James shutters to think of what might’ve slid up against each other to elicit that response. Though his imagination is buoyed when Sirius suddenly rocks forwards in a very deliberate way, his head dipping down closer to Remus and it’s like instinct when their lips devour one another’s smolderingly, Remus’s hands fisted in Sirius’s hair, and Sirius’s own sliding around to cup his arse cheeks.

“Oh for bloody hell,” James snarls, absolutely fed up. He grabs the cup of discarded fat and pours it on the pair of them, making it so they both jump apart in a flash— panting breaths and flushed cheeked and both of the sporting obvious hard ons— even through the layers that Sirius has got on.

“You lot have got eight minutes and thirty five seconds to get it the bloody hell together, change into something respectable and then meet me downstairs,” James instructs, seething and brooking no arguments.  “Now disperse damn it!”

.-

They end up fifteen minutes late, and McGonagall just gives James a cool glance above her flute of wine as they scramble to the table, but it’s fine, because James gets to shake Ludo Bagman’s hand and everything while up on stage— Even if Remus and Sirius make a conspicuous retreat to the gents the moment he sits back down and don’t meet up with everyone until after the ceremony ends.

James repeats, bloody blunders.

.-

MY OTHER WOLFSTAR FICS  |  BUY ME A COFFEE<3

[kazandthecrows]

All I’m Asking For Is A Day of Peace and Quiet

a/n: Hello everyone! I’ve been working on this for a while for @grishaversebigbang ! I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it :) I’ve had the pleasure of working with some insanely talented artists on this project and I hope that you love the final product! 

Beware spoilers for all the Grishaverse books! The first chapter is up and I’ll keep updating it over the next couple of days! 

Corporalki (my badass beta reader): @purns-art

Materialki (the coolest artists I know): @aureatepaper (art link)   @alittleartistic (art link)  @crownofnight (art link)    @nataliert (art link)

Summary: 

Nikolai just wants to find the perfect way to actually propose to Zoya, but literally everything gets in his way. When the long lost ring he’d been planning to propose with shows up in Ketterdam, he finds himself going on an adventure with Kaz and his crows.

Here’s the link to read it on Ao3: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33702874/chapters/83764771

Or read chapter one below: 

Chapter One 

“I don’t need to go on a vacation, Nikolai.” A stressed Zoya Nazyelensky exclaimed. Nikolai didn’t believe one word of that sentence. They were currently walking through the halls of the Grand Palace because the only way Nikolai could get a word in with her is if he met her in between going to one of her several meetings with diplomats, rulers of other nations, or anyone who needed to request time with the new Queen of Ravka.

Zoya wasn’t one to outwardly show her stress, but Nikolai knew that something was up. She looked immaculate. Her hair was perfectly done, she was dressed the part of a young Queen, her dark blue dress made her look as if she was wearing the night sky itself, and she carried herself with confidence and never let anyone see her falter. But Nikolai could often see what others couldn’t. The forced smiles, the way her shoulders fell a little whenever they were behind closed doors. The responsibility was weighing on her in the same ways that it weighed on him, and on this occasion, he was grateful for his experience as a royal so that he could help her through it as best he could.

“Yes, you really do.” He pushed. He had caught her in a rare moment of peace. She had just left a meeting with a number of Zemeni diplomats, and she was on her way to another meeting with some ambassadors from the Wandering Isle. He matched her pace easily, walking alongside her in hopes it would make her slow down a little.

“I can count the number of times I’ve spent time with you in the last two weeks on one hand, and 90 percent of those times you fell asleep.” Zoya stopped in her tracks, catching Nikolai off guard.

“That’s not true.” She said, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Think about it, Zoya.” He pressed. “You’re tired, stressed, and I can see the early stages of burnout starting to take over.”

“I’m fine, besides, I don’t have the time to take a break.”

“If you can’t take a few days off, how about an afternoon?” He asked. Zoya stayed silent, but if Nikolai could just have a few hours of her time, that would be enough. She sighed, nodding in acceptance.

“I’ll see what I can do about clearing tomorrow afternoon.” Nikolai could have exploded with joy. Progress, he thought.

“Perfect, meet me in the gardens tomorrow, then.” He moved towards her gently and pressed a feather-light kiss to her cheeks. When he pulled away, he swore he could see his former general blush.

“I’m looking forward to it.” She said quietly. Nikolai smiled fondly at her as they went their separate ways.

“Good luck with your meeting, my love, I hear the Kaelish ambassadors can be quite charismatic!”

----------

The garden of the Grand Palace had quickly become one of Nikolai’s favorite places. It was large enough that you could hide from anyone you were avoiding and quiet enough that it felt as if you weren’t in the palace anymore. It was an area of sanctuary, and Nikolai knew that Zoya would find it easier to relax here.

He’d set everything up perfectly. He had laid pillows and a picnic blanket down with snacks and tea in an alcove almost completely hidden by azalea bushes. He and Zoya had already come out here before, and he knew that it was unlikely they would be bothered here.

The sound of footsteps alerted him to her presence. His face lit up at the sight of her. Zoya’s hair was down from all the pins and ribbons she was wearing previously, and she had replaced her dress with a much more comfortable-looking white shirt and a pair of light brown trousers. Her small smile grew into a grin as she spotted him lying casually on the blanket.

“Goodness Nikolai, did you do this all yourself?”

“I had some help.” He said sheepishly.

“Well, I’m impressed.” He laughed as she lowered herself down onto the blanket. It had been an extremely busy few months, and he honestly couldn’t remember a time where they’d ever done this. All their time spent alone together felt so fleeting.

“Please tell me that nobody knows we’re here.”

“Just Genya, but only so she can keep everybody out.” Zoya said cheekily.

“Perfect.” Nikolai chuckled, moving closer to plant a gentle kiss on her lips. Zoya’s eyes drifted shut, savoring the moment.

“I really do think that we should take a few days off and go somewhere.” Nikolai said earnestly. They both deserved a few days with each other, that’s all he was asking for.

“Nikolai, I already told you, I don’t know if I have time.”

“You know, I find that one of the best things about ruling a country is being able to do as you please.” He poked fun at her, but he knew her reasoning.

“Where would we go?” She asked seriously. Nikolai was pleasantly surprised, this was the first time she’d actually expressed interest in going anywhere.

“There’s a cottage about halfway between Keramzin and Balakriev, it’s technically ours so we could go there whenever you wanted. It’s in the middle of nowhere, no one would bother us, and we could even pay a quick visit to Alina and Mal if you’d like.”

Curiosity filled Zoya’s features. It had been a while since they’d seen their friends. It would feel like a break if they went to visit them.

“We’d have plenty of time to ourselves, and then we can also see some friends. It’s a perfect mix of hiding from our responsibilities and socialising.”

“That would be really nice.” She said, but Nikolai could sense she wanted to say more.

“But?”

“But, it just doesn’t feel right to leave.”

“Sleep on it, Zoya.” He urged, “it won’t be for long, and you have a support system here who can help keep things running while we’re gone.”

She was silent for a moment, and Nikolai was hopeful that he had gotten through to her.

“Alright, let’s do it.” She said stubbornly. Nikolai felt like jumping for pure joy. Finally, he thought, he’d finally managed to do what others had thought impossible. He’d managed to convince Zoya Nazyalensky to go on holiday.

----------

Nikolai paced across his room, picking up different items and placing them into the assigned bags as Genya helped him organise. The two had almost everything ready. They crossed each other several times in comfortable silence, until Nikolai stopped and looked up.

“Genya.”

Genya continued to gather items, but turned her attention towards him slightly, to let him know that she was listening.

“Yes?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know of a sapphire ring that my mother used to own?”

She stopped what she was doing and looked at him, questions filling her eyes. That didn’t exactly give him much hope, considering he was the one with questions to ask her.

“She had a lot of jewelry, Nikolai.” Genya said pointedly. Her time spent working for the Queen had meant she knew the ins and outs of everything she did, and everything she wore.

“Yes, but it was a very sizable sapphire ring.”

“What would you need with a sapphire ring?” She asked. Nikolai looked at her for a few moments, saying nothing. It was enough for her to realise why he was being so insistent.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, dropping the folded shirt that she was holding.

“Yes, oh.” Nikolai said, falling dramatically into the chair at his desk, one arm draped across his forehead.

Genya grinned. “I bet you regret giving Alina the Lantsov emerald now.” Nikolai scowled at her, only encouraging her laughter.

“Alina deserved the emerald, and she had a better use for it than I ever did.” He sighed.

“I didn’t realise that things had been moving so quickly between you two.”

“The last few months have certainly helped us grow closer.” After Zoya had become Queen, Nikolai had done everything he could to make sure that she wasn’t struggling, and they had spent even more time than normal together. Truthfully, Nikolai missed it, but everything that had happened, from the Darkling’s return to Nikolai being able to control his demon and his General turning into a literal dragon. He knew he wanted her to be his Queen, but now that things had settled down he had never been more sure of anything; he wanted to propose to her.

“I’m so happy for you Nikolai, you both deserve the world.”

“She’s my world, and she’s far too good for me.” He spoke softly.

“You and I both you’re perfect for each other, and also, there were many Lantsov heirlooms, there are some that were bound to have gone missing.” Genya said.

Nikolai vaguely remembered talk of a sapphire ring he was hoping to find, but he’d only ever seen it once in a box on his mothers' vanity. Thinking back on it, it reminded him exactly of Zoya. The ring was a beautiful, vibrant dark blue, and it would suit her perfectly. The only problem was that he hadn’t seen it since he was a child, and anything could have happened to it.

“Whichever ring you’re talking about, I don’t think I’d seen it on her.” Genya said, giving him a sympathetic smile.

Nikolai racked his brain, trying to come up with places where it could have been. He began pacing again.

“It would have been the perfect item for someone to steal and sell on the black market, wouldn’t it?” He said.

“Sure, but it could be anywhere.”

Nikolai smiled, his plans slowly coming together.

“If there’s anyone that could locate a lost ring, it’s Kaz Brekker.” Genya sighed, her head falling into her hands.

“Zoya is going to be so happy once she finds out that you needed Kaz Brekker’s help to get her engagement ring.”

“I’ll send word to the Wraith, perhaps Captain Ghafa will be of help.”

Perhaps if Nikolai and Zoya were away long enough, he hoped she would fail to notice that he’d been looking for her engagement ring across Ravka and Ketterdam.

“I’m glad that you’re going on this trip, but have fun convincing Zoya to take a break.”

“Don’t worry, she’s going to love it.”

----------

“This is a terrible idea.” Zoya stated, watching Nikolai step into the small cottage. He looked back at her only to see an unimpressed scowl on her face.

“I happen to think that a little break away from all the duties and responsibilities of a Queen might be exactly what you need.” He said, grinning. Zoya wanted to smack that grin off of his face.

“I shouldn’t have said yes to this, you caught me in a moment of weakness.” She had been half asleep when he’d brought up the idea, and she’d only agreed to it because at the time nothing had sounded more appealing than some peace and quiet. But she was the Queen of Ravka, and there was too much to do.

“Zoya, please relax.” He smiled, resting his hands on her shoulders softly. “Genya has everything sorted and it’s only for a few days. She wouldn’t let anything bad happen while we’re gone.” He hoped that would be enough to assure her that everything would be alright and that after all they’d been through she deserved a few days of rest, but Zoya Nazyelensky and rest were two things that did not seem to go together.

Nikolai had brought them to a small cottage just outside of Os Alta. The last few months had taken a toll on them both. Zoya had been adjusting well to life as Queen of Ravka, but a break from them was long overdue. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, Zoya was scowling, and all was right in the world.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if we return and Genya is the new Queen of Ravka.” Zoya exclaimed, making Nikolai chuckle, his face suddenly turning serious.

“Yes, we should be afraid.” He said, and moved to put the bags they had brought into the living area. Nikolai thought it would be a good distraction for Genya to take over for a few days, they all needed some time to distract themselves. Zoya had barely had time to herself since becoming Queen, and more importantly, Nikolai had barely any time alone with Zoya. They never had enough time to relax with one another, so their trip was long overdue.

“Funnily enough, Genya actually helped me plan this.” He said, “So, the bedroom is to the left, the kitchen is through there, and the room you’re currently standing in is in the living room, although I can imagine you already came to that conclusion.” Zoya stared at him pointedly, still unconvinced.

“How can you be so relaxed about this?” She said as Nikolai sauntered towards her, and smiled softly. His fingers brushed her cheek softly as he glanced at her.

“Zoya,” he said in a hushed tone, ��� you deserve to rest.” He cupped her cheek as she leaned into his touch.

“I’m well aware that resting is against every fiber of your being, but please try, for me?” The look Nikolai gave her made her want to melt into his arms and never leave them, so she nodded silently and sighed.

Although Zoya would never admit it, she was grateful to Nikolai for getting her away from the palace and taking a break for a little while. It had only been a day since they’d arrived, and they’d done nothing but eat, sleep, and lay in each other's arms and talk about the smallest things, from stories of both their childhoods, to Zoya’s upbringing in the little palace.

Zoya felt as though she could stay like this forever, covered in blankets, Nikolai’s arms wrapped around her. They had spent the whole morning like this, drifting in and out of sleep. Zoya glanced up at Nikolai to see his eyes were barely open, but he was looking at her. She smiled at him gently.

“You know, we might actually have to get out of bed eventually.” She said, bringing herself closer to him. Nikolai’s arms tightened around her, his thumb brushing her shoulder softly.

“Who says?” He mumbled, a content sigh leaving his lips.

“I say.” Zoya laughed. “The weather is beautiful outside, we should go and enjoy it while we can.”

Nikolai’s eyes widened at her request. “Well, it’s nice to see that your mood has improved since we arrived.”

“I have to admit, this is much better than having to rule a country.” Zoya said, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Nikolai’s cheek. “But we should do something, or see something.” She insisted. Nikolai’s frowned, deep in thought. A thought came to Zoya’s mind, one that had even surprised her.

“We aren’t that far from Keramzin. How about we pay some old friends a visit?”

“You want to see Alina and Mal?” He said.

“At least this time it’ll finally be under better and brighter circumstances.”

The last time Zoya had been to visit Alina and Mal, she had brought the Darkling into their lives once again. Their appearance at her coronation was a welcome one, and while Alina and Zoya had their differences, the Darkling and the destruction of the Fold had changed them both.

“Alright, let’s go and see Alina and Mal.” Nikolai sighed, but only held onto Zoya tighter.

“Nikolai!”

“Just give me five more minutes.”

----------

The journey to Alina and Mal’s orphanage was short, and the fresh air and sunlight was welcome to Zoya, who was beginning to realise just how much she needed some time to do absolutely nothing but ride her horse and spend time with Nikolai. As they approached the orphanage, Zoya could make out a figure stepping out into the entrance. The figure stopped and waved a very Alina wave and shouted something inside. Momentarily, another figure trudged out the door. Mal.

Zoya could barely get off her horse before being enveloped into a tight hug. Alina was always more of a hugger than she was, but nevertheless, she found herself returning the embrace with the same fondness.

“Zoya, it’s so good to see you!” Alina said, her smile as bright as the sunlight she used to summon.

“It’s good to see you too, Alina.” Zoya returned the smile with her own, albeit a more reserved one. They turned to see Mal greeting Nikolai with a friendly grin and a handshake. Alina beamed at them and moved to take Zoya’s hands.

“I’m so glad that you decided to come and visit, it’s not often we get royalty for company.” Alina said, eliciting a laugh from Nikolai and Mal.

“I’m glad you still want me around, considering what happened the last time I visited.” Zoya said timidly, her mind wandering back to the Darkling.

“Firstly, it wasn’t your fault, and secondly, you’re always welcome here.” Alina said, her hands still grasping Zoya’s.

“Now, come inside, I even made tea for this.”

----------

Zoya and Nikolai had spent the entire afternoon catching up with Mal and Alina. It felt surreal, considering all that they had been through together over the past few years. They talked as if they were old friends who hadn’t destroyed the Fold, turned into a demon, lost all of their powers, or gained brand new ones.

Towards the end of the afternoon, when all the chatter had winded down and they’d caught up on each other's lives. Alina pulled Nikolai aside, asking for a few moments alone with him. Nikolai followed her out of the room and into the courtyard they entered a few hours prior. Once they were far enough away, Alina turned to him with an excited glint in her eyes.

“When are you going to do it?” She asked.

“Do what?”

“Propose! It’s about time, Nikolai.”

“Well, ideally I’d like to have a ring to propose with, and so far that’s not looking good.” Alina gave him a sympathetic look.

“You could propose holding a twig and she’d still say yes. It’s your fault you picked a long-lost ring.”

Nikolai and Alina and corresponded through letters in recent months, keeping each other updated on the happenings of Keramzin and the Grand Palace. He’d told her about the ring in case she’d be able to find any information, but they hadn’t had any luck.

“I’m well aware. Genya said she’d send word as soon as she hears something, and I still haven’t heard from my contacts, so if there’s nothing by the end of the month I’ll have to improvise.”

“You must really love her if you’re going to all these lengths to propose to her.”

“She deserves something fit for the Queen of Ravka.”

“Either way, she’ll be happy to marry you.”

----------

The next morning, the couple did not expect to find Tolya standing at the door, with a cloaked figure next to him. The figure lifted their hood, and the face of the Wraith became clear.

A very confused Zoya turned to Nikolai, wondering what the hell was going on.

“Captain Ghafa, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Nikolai asked. It had taken a considerable amount of effort to get in touch with her. As it turned out, the Wraith truly lived up to her name. She seemed to appear in the most random places. Nikolai had to request the help of allies in the Wandering Isle, Fjerda, and Novyi Zem to find her. Once he could contact her, he explained the situation and asked her to get into contact with anyone who might have had information on the whereabouts of the ring.

“I received your letters.”

“I must admit, I’m very surprised you’re here, you’re notoriously difficult to get a hold of.”

“I have a lead on the item you asked me to look for.”

Excitement coursed through Nikolai. Has she found it? Was this all coming together?

“And?” He asked eagerly, ignoring Zoya’s perplexed gaze.

“It’s in Ketterdam.”

[kaihatemail]

Episode 41 script vs episode

Dan recently sent out emails to the international donators that got an episode script. Of course I got episode 41 because,,, y’know,, There are quite a few differences in the script that I wanted to talk about. However, I wasn’t sure if it was legal to show it. In the end I’ve decided to just describe the differences. 

(Please note that the script I was sent was the 2nd revision. There was most likely at least one more revision, so the stuff I’m talking about is obviously stuff that was taken out in the final copy).

A lot of the differences from the script and final episode are mostly slight quote changes, which I don’t think is big enough to note each one. However, small differences in the actual events include,

Skylor wearing a “maroon dress that exposes her Anacondrai tattoo,” at the beginning ceremony. It could be this dress that Tommy showed in Skylor concept art.

An exchange between Kai and Jay that didn’t make it through to the final episode. 

MASTER CHEN: Zugu, leave the red one. I want a word with him.

Before the chain gang is led out, they unshackle Kai.

KAI (whispers to Jay): I’ll figure a way out of this.

JAY: No offense, Kai, but you don’t have power; I don’t trust you. I trust Lloyd, he’s the Green Ninja. You’re always just getting us into more trouble.

KAI (offended): Fine. Then I’ll find him.

(Jay is literally why Kai is insecure LMAOOO)

Chope’s name was initially Chope-Chope, apparently

Chen is described to be acting like a cat during his fight against Lloyd lol

In the episode, Clouse pulls a lever that releases poison ontop of Lloyd, which Kai shields him from using Lloyd’s element from the staff of elements. In this script, Kai actually shields himself, because he was apparently the one under it??

The roto jet comes into the room from under Kai, which is what separates him from the staff

 There were two (imo) big differences that was super interesting to read, and what I think really makes buying this script worth it.

While Chen is showing him around the relic hallway, Kai grabs a jade blade and plans to attack Chen with it, but gets distracted when he brings up his parents. He drops the blade in front of Nya later on to show that he hadn’t actually betrayed the team (Which was too far for her to reach anyways…). Nya gets the blade when the roto jet group saves her and Garmadon, and is actually the one to break the staff of elements after Kai is separated from it.

Kai’s plan with the staff was to get it before Lloyd’s power was taken. However, Eyezor saw that he was trying to get closer to it, and held onto him. That’s when Skylor stood next to Chen. Skylor initially wasn’t meant to be involved at all! Kai telling Lloyd that he, “Had it all under control… well, almost,” was referring to his initial plan failing.

And, of course, the corruption scene itself. I’ve always wanted to find out how this scene was written, and actually reading it didn’t meet a lot of my expectations. Not in a bad way! There’s a few things to note.

The script doesn’t say that his eyes went red. After noting that Kai “seems to be enjoying it (the power) a little too much,” a darkness is described to slowly fall over him. The script describes his corrupted voice as “possessed-like” and says that Kai almost seems as if he’s displaying split personalities.

Because the script doesn’t say that his eyes went red, normal and corrupted Kai are differentiated by caps lock. When normal Kai is talking, the script is in lowercase and italics. When it’s corrupted Kai, everything is in capitals.

This part of the script is identical to the episode, besides from a small line from normal Kai that I assume got cut out in the final script. In the episode, red-eyed Kai yells at Lloyd saying, “No one is taking my staff! You had all the power, now it’s my turn!” In the script, however, Kai goes back to normal between the two lines and says,

“Just, a little longer –”

This BLEW MY MIND.

He lashed out at Lloyd for saying they had to get the staff away from him, then said he just wanted it, the power, for a little longer, before irrationally yelling at Lloyd again. It wasn’t until Kai started verbally attacking Lloyd personally that he realized that, hey, maybe having this staff isn’t a good idea.

Something about that is so cool and ties a connection to normal and corrupted Kai. If Lloyd hadn’t said that they had to get the staff away from him, then there’s a chance Kai wouldn’t have targeted Lloyd. And if the reason Kai started fighting back the staff was because he was targeting Lloyd, then there’d be no reason for him to want to let go of the staff, and he could’ve, maybe, been fully corrupted.

Am I reading too into this? Yes. I don’t even know if my wording makes sense. Regardless, this script was a very interesting read, and I’m happy to have received it.

[wesimpforxiao]

Inception:  Chapter 6

The City of Mondstat--what a gorgeous place to host the wind archon!  You admired the city gates as you and Ajax crossed the cobblestone bridge that greets guests and attendees alike.  The sour face a little boy made as your presence scared the pigeons away made you feel a little bad--it wasn't the first time you've interrupted his pigeon hangouts.

"I'll put our belongings in our apartment.  Why don't you take a look around the shops?  I'll buy you whatever you like once I've checked in."  Ajax removed the pack from your shoulders before you had the chance to answer.  "My day will be busy in a bit, so you'll be on your own until late evening.  I hope that won't be of any trouble?"

"Of course not.  Besides, I have friends here too."

Friends, only as in the wealthiest bachelor in Mond:  Diluc!  You had met him in the wilderness bordering Liyue and Mondstat, where you had been following a particularly rowdy group of Fatui under Childe's supervision.  It had been dark and gloomy, the land filled with thunderous rain that refused to let up, and you were vulnerable to those cryo vultures of agents.  Of course, this was during the time after your mother died and were beginning to contemplate causing trouble for the Fatui.

And like a dumbass, you weren't at all careful in the beginning.  That night you had bitten off more than you could chew--especially since you had never once used the vision in your pocket and your martial arts skills weren't as refined as they were now.  Luckily Diluc was on a similar mission and intervened before you were severely injured.  A deep respect formed for one another's resolves and you've been sharing intel with each other ever since.

So where better to go, than to Angel Share?  Shopping could wait until later when Ajax would be by your side!

Just as you reached the tavern, you spotted a particularly well-dressed man with long blue hair sitting at one of the tables at the entrance.  A few empty pints lay strewn about on his table, his cheeks a faint tint of buzzed-pink.  He seemed to be enjoying himself when he spotted you.  "Hey, fancy joining me here for a bit?"

"Hm?  Oh, uh, sure?  I don't believe I know you."  You sat across from him and eyed whatever it was he was drinking.  'Dandelion wine.'  You've tried it once before; it was light and airy, the fizz of alcohol tickling your taste buds with each sip.  You weren't a frequent drinker though, so it's been quite some time since your last taste of alcohol.

"Kaeya, Knight of Favonius," the man held his gloved hand out to you, and you took it with little hesitance.  The people of Mondstat were always warm and welcoming.  "Who might I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"Reed.  It's nice to meet you, Sir Kaeya.  Do you come to Angel Share often?  I thought it's unprofessional for knights to be seen at taverns." Especially since it's the middle of the day! Shouldn't he be on duty?!

"On the contrary, taverns are excellent sources of information.  Though I suppose I come here more often than what's considered necessary."  Kaeya's eye carefully narrowed as he studied you, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips.  "I've never seen you in Mondstat before."

"To tell you the truth, it's been like six months since I've last visited," you chuckled, making certain he didn't notice your interest in his interestingly-shaped pupil.  Maybe it was some rare genetic trait you've never heard of before?

"Oh? You must be a traveler then, no?"

"Not really.  I'm from Liyue, actually."

"Ah! The City of Contracts.  But I sense you're not native to Liyue."  You blinked in confusion as a smirk formed on his face.  "Your intonation suggests Liyue origin as do your clothes, but your enunciation says otherwise.  May I take a guess?"

Your seat creaked as you sat up straighter.  "U-Uh...sure..."

Kaeya leaned back in his seat and sized you up with a mischievous gleam in his eye.  He calmly took a sip of his wine, licking the excess off the corner of his lower lip.  After a few seconds, he appeared to confirm his thoughts.  "Mm, yes.  You're from Snezhnaya, no doubt."

A meek nod from you sent him chuckling.  There was a strange sense of danger lurking in your chest, tightening evermore as he watched you like prey.  Just who was this knight? Why did a dangerous chill run down your back?  It wouldn't be the first time people have shown their darker sides to Snezhnayan emigrants--"How did you..."

"Heh, don't take it so seriously.  I am a knight, after all.  They don't just let anyone get the job."  Kaeya took another, deeper gulp of wine this time and placed his pint down.  His smile was friendlier now, allowing you to relax back into your seat.  "So, are you here for business or pleasure?"

A faint blush reached your cheeks.  "Business, I guess.  But it's not mine. My...friend is here for business reasons, I'm just tagging along with him."

"Oh?  If he has a branch here, I might know him.  Who is this friend of yours?"

"Oh, his name's Ajax.  He's actually a toy seller."

Kaeya's eye widened slightly at this.  There are no Liyue toy sellers that visit Mondstat, save for travelling merchants.  "A toy seller? Fascinating."  He goaded you to continue with a nod.

"He's pretty private when it comes to work; doesn't like to mix it with personal matters.  We'll be staying here for a few days, so I'm sure you'll be seeing more of us."

"Is he Snezhnayan too?"

"...Okay, you're creepily good."

Kaeya gave you a lazy shrug and smirked.  "What can I say?  I have a talent for this sort of thing."  But when he returned to his normal posture, the mysterious glint in his eye was gone.  Something contemplative, darker, was lurking.  Something you didn't recognize nor understand.

And there was that flight-or-fight feeling again--

"There you are, ojou-chan!"  A hand landed on your shoulder, and you startled.  "I couldn't find you at the shops.  I spotted a floral store nearby.  Shall we check it out?"  Childe stared hard at the man you sat across from and feigned a warm smile that didn't reach his eyes.  "Oh? Is this one of the friends you mentioned?"

"Actually I just met him.  He's a knight!  Kaeya, this is Ajax."

Childe stiffened behind you.  You told this guy his name?!  A knight?! You--You! No.  This is to be expected; you don't know the truth to begin with.  "I see.  Well, Reed, we should get going--"

"Aw, why so cold?" Kaeya faux-pouted and readjusted one of his gloves.  He wasn't a stranger to the situation.  He knew exactly who Ajax was; the harbinger status reeked about him.  "Reed's told me all about you.  I'm honored to meet your acquaintance, Ajax."  The atmosphere seemed to freeze over and a thick tension settled over the table.

"...Can't say I feel the same," Childe spoke through gritted teeth.  He slapped another forced smile on and addressed you again.  "Aha, Reed, we should get going.  I only have a few minutes before my meeting--"

"Ah, your toy seller company?  What was the name again?  Even as a cavalry captain, I wasn't aware we had foreign companies in our walls."  His gaze was only focused on Ajax.

"Um...What do you mean?"  The grip on your shoulder tightened as a warning that went unnoticed.

"So you're truly unaware?"  Kaeya's attention dropped to you and something akin to sadistic pleasure lit up his expression.  "This will be quite lively indeed."  He took another sip of wine before standing to meet Childe's glare head-on.  "You've done an exceptional job at keeping her in the dark, if I say so myself.  As to be expected from someone of your status."

"Ajax, what's he talking about?"

"Reed, let's go." He nearly lifted you up himself.  Ajax grabbed your wrist and whisked you away in a hurry.

"You can't hide from the one that calls you friend!" Kaeya shouted after the two of you while Childe pulled harder at your wrist.

"What does that mean?" A glance back to the knight that held a knowing smile then to the man that held your arm gave you an unsettling feeling in your stomach.  Was there something that Ajax was hiding from you, and if so, what was it if it got the attention of a Mondstat cavalry captain?  "Ajax?  What's he going on about?"

His grip tightened until it almost hurt.  "Don't talk to him ever again."  He finally let go of you once both of you were hidden from the public eye in an alleyway, but the serious look in his eyes nearly made you flinch.  He never looked so--what was it? Angry?  Fearful?  Grim?  Perhaps the most frightening part was the emptiness in those blue irises, just like the day he returned from his disappearance...

"Whatever it is, you know you can tell me right?"  This got his attention and his gaze landed on you without looking at you.  "You're scaring me by refusing to talk."  You had thought that you two had grown closer on your way to Mondstat, but now it feels like you're moving backwards.

"It's nothing, promise," Childe flashed you with a pained grin.  "Just...stay away from him.  He seems to target my company a lot for no reason other than prejudice."

Maybe it was because it was a Snezhnayan company?  "Um, okay..."  He caught onto the hesitance in your eyes, and his hands lightly rubbed the sides of your arms as he peered down at you.

"Promise me.  I swear it's nothing bad."

"...I promise."  But for once, you were going to break it.  You knew this as you met his relieved gaze.  Something isn't right.  You've picked up on it before with how he wouldn't touch you when there were people around, or his nervous glances at the surrounding area before he approached you.  You weren't that stupid and oblivious to his behavior.  Perhaps you were trying to suppress that uneasiness whenever he was around, but it's become impossible to ignore now.

"Okay," he let out a small sigh of relief and nodded.  "I'll be working late tonight, so don't wait for me when it comes to eating and sleeping.  Can you do that?"

"I'm not a child, you know.  I'm more than capable of handling myself," you retorted with lips twitching upward.  "I'll be fine.  Do what you need to do.  I'll be around petting the cute dogs and cats all day!"

"I wish I could go along with you," he admitted before placing an innocent peck at your forehead.  "I'll be back later."

"See ya."  You stared at his back until it disappeared among the crowd and released a breath you didn't know you were holding.  A hand rubbed your queasy stomach.  Now to pet some animals for some anxiety relief as you think of what to do next...

Kaeya knew you'd be back later that evening at Angel Share.  He was an expert at studying people and if he had learned anything from those brief chats with you, it was that you were not the kind of person that's able to let his comments go.  So as he patiently sipped at his wine glass at the corner of the bar's first floor, the ringaling of the chime that indicated the entry of a new customer let him know you were right on time for the show.

Diluc raised a brow at you; he had caught a glimpse of your figure out the window earlier.  It was rare for you to travel to Mond, and even more so to not have asked for Fatui intel by now.  In fact, it was like you weren't in town for that information this time.  You nodded at him in acknowledgement.  

"Can I help you?"

Your eyes flicked to the knight in the darkest corner of the tavern.  "The strongest alcohol you've got, please."

Diluc watched you with concern for a moment before grabbing one of the bottles on the shelf behind him.  "You're a lightweight; I wouldn't recommend you drink on an empty stomach.  Have you eaten yet? I can make you something on the house if you'd like."

"That's okay, I'm not hungry."

"Very well."  A pint slid to you on the bar counter and you immediately downed a concerning amount without so much as pausing for a breath.  This earned another brow raise from Diluc, but he remained quiet as you walked towards Kaeya--who was already a bit tipsy and needless to say, unwelcome in this tavern.

Kaeya's lips curled upward as your footsteps got louder, and his eyes finally lifted from his glass to watch you plop down on the other side of the table.  "Well well well, I wasn't expecting you to speak to me after what happened this morning.  What's lil Reed want with me at this late hour?"

You swallowed the nervousness that ate at you with his sly stare and sat up straighter.  "Tell me what you meant this morning."

"Oh?  I don't quite remember which part," he swirled the wine in his glass.  "Care to enlighten me?"

"'You can't hide from the one that calls you friend.'"  Your finger tapped impatiently against the rim of your cup.  "What do you know that I don't?"

"Are you certain you want to hear it?"  Kaeya remained in his relaxed position with an arm across the back of his seat and a leg perched across the other.  You didn't answer, your gaze instead dropping to the alcohol in your cup to avoid his predatory stare.  It didn't feel safe with him eyeing you like you were food.  It was as if he was able to see the thoughts swirling around inside your head.  "It seems to me you already know.  You've only sought me out to confirm your fears."

"Maybe I want to be wrong," you mumbled.  The horrible fears that swirled in your heart weren't exactly unfounded; with what you know, they'd make more sense to be true than false.  Ajax was violent after he disappeared...looking for fights even after you said your official goodbyes...it wouldn't be completely out of the question to think he'd join the Fatui.

Kaeya eyed you carefully and a smile spread across his face as he sat forward.  "Well darling, I'd be more than happy to burst that hopeful bubble of yours.  The question is, are you willing to pay the price?"

"I don't care about the truth hurting my fee-"

"Ah ah ah," he lazily wagged a finger at you and sat back again.  "I think it's only fair that in giving you this information, I receive some in return."

"What about?"

"I've done some digging on you and your...honorary reputation in Liyue."

"That was quick."

"Isn't it?  You see, Master Diluc and I have a shared interest in the Fatui.  I want all the information you have on them." Known only to Kaeya, Diluc was carefully listening to this conversation and held back a scoff at this remark.  Diluc did tell Kaeya about your reputation, but only after the latter insisted you and your 'friend' were connected to the Fatui Harbingers.

"Deal."  Maybe Diluc doesn't like sharing his intel with the knights, but it wouldn't hurt to share the information with Kaeya.  You were all on the same side here anyway.

"Good girl," he tilted his head slightly and tipped the wine glass to his lips.  "Now that that's settled, go ahead and ask me."

You bit your lip and gathered the courage and anxiety that had been swirling in your stomach.  A quick gulp or two...or three of your glass and you spit your thoughts out before you could shrivel up on yourself.  "What do you know about my Ajax?"

The sadistic look in his eye only increased as he set his glass down for the first time in a literal hour.  He didn't even hesitate to answer you.  "Your 'Ajax' is none other than a Fatui Harbinger that goes by 'Childe.'"

You almost couldn't hear him with the obnoxious ringing in your ears.  "A Harbinger?"

"The same one that almost drowned Liyue all those months ago.  But I'm guessing you were already able to gather that much after this morning, weren't you?"  He held eye contact with you and another smile danced across his lips.  He could see the gears turning in your head as you struggled to digest this bombshell of information and it was oh-so delightful to watch unfold.  "I'm sure you've heard of the infamous 11th Harbinger since you're originally from Snezhnaya."

"The one known for numerous kills on the battlefield," you uttered absently while vacant eyes stared at the tabletop.  It hurt like hell to know the truth, but it hurt even worse that he was the same harbinger that tried to drown Liyue.  That tried to drown you.

"Ding ding ding."

You downed the rest of your drink without a second thought and slammed the pint onto the table.  "Diluc, I'm gonna need another.  Please."

Childe met Lady Signora at the Grande Goth Hotel and after having dinner with her and her highest-ranking officers, he placed his utensils down.  "As you've seen in my letter, some of my men are missing or going missing as we speak."

"You're asking for my help?"  The lady looked at Childe with an exasperated expression.  "I thought the Tsaritsa was correct in giving you the task.  Are you saying you are unable to find leads?"

He bit his tongue to keep from losing his temper with Signora.  It wasn't an understatement to say he was still salty over her deception with Zhongli that ended up making him look like a fool to the whole of Liyue.  "I only came to ask if any of your men had gone missing."

Signora's eyes narrowed slightly.  "Three."

"I could use those reports if you don't mind."

"They'll be at your disposal," she assured.  "How many men have gone missing under your watch, Childe?"

Of course she would ask this.  Childe grit his teeth.  "Twenty more.  A total of fifty are gone now."  Feeling her judgement, he continued with a more aggressive tone.  "There's little evidence to suggest they're being taken against their will, so my assumption is they're purposely abandoning their posts."

"Abandoning their posts?  The Tsaritsa only recruits the loyal.  Why would they turn against Her Majesty?"

"Your guess is as good as mine at this point.  Rest assured that I'm working as hard as I can with the information I've been given."

"And the vigilante I've heard rumors about?"

His heart sank.  "The vigilante in Liyue?  I've confirmed they have nothing to do with the disappearances.  The most they've done is broke an arm or two, and killing isn't their style.  They were clueless when I brought the matter up to them."

"And...?"

"It's not them," he sat up and deadpanned.  He had to be careful with his words now that you had managed to catch the attention of another harbinger.  They definitely wouldn't give you a free pass to harass their men as you please.  "There's no connection.  The working theory is the Fatui are abandoning their posts due to some third party.  There have been reports of cult activity as of late, though.  My bet is on that."

Seemingly satisfied with his thoughts, Signora took another sip of wine.  "Very well.  As long as you catch the person responsible, I won't need to bring my concerns to the Tsaritsa."  This earned a glare from Childe and he bit his tongue.

It was 11:30 at night when he got back to the rented apartment that he shared with you.  As expected, the lights were out.  Childe quietly made his way to the bed when he realized how cold it was, and you hadn't so much as left an imprint.  You weren't there, and you hadn't visited it to begin with.  

Shit.

The sinking feeling in his stomach only worsened as he ran full speed to that damned tavern you loved so much.  His hand shook as he turned the knob and opened the door, greeted by a redheaded bartender that did not look happy to see him.

"My apologies, but we just closed," he said as he dried a wine glass with a white cloth.  "We open at two tomorrow." He did his best not to act on impulse and kill the harbinger where he stood.

Childe crinkled his nose at this and looked to his left.  Sure enough you were sitting across from that stupid knight.  He couldn't see your face since your back was to him, but that didn't stop the pounding in his chest that made it difficult to breathe.  He ignored Diluc's annoyed protest and approached the table.

"Reed."  His hand lightly landed your shoulder, begging for you to turn around.  Instead of the usual flush of warmth he received from your vision, his hand was engulfed in flames.  His vision reacted just as quickly as he removed his hand, and the vapor produced flew to the ceiling.  The stinging he felt in his palm let him know he'd have blisters at the very least.  His eyes widened as he came to terms with what had happened.  

The pyrophobe used actual fire.

He tried again anyway.  "Reed," he called out firmly, careful not to let on the shakiness in his voice.  "It's late.  Let's get you home." His hand reached out again but before it could make contact, your shoulders befell into flames and you stood up.  He caught the devilish smirk on Kaeya's face as you did and scoffed.   "Stay away from--"

"Get out."  The words caught in his throat when a cold tone contrary to your vision reached his ears.  "Get out before I do something I won't regret."

"Reed--"  

"Get out, Childe."

"You might want to obey the lady's wishes," Kaeya egged on and finished his wine off.  "When women want to be left alone, they want to be left alone."

"You," Childe growled and moved to get past you.  "You--"  A wall of flame blocked his path to throwing hands, and it was at this moment that Childe saw the brokenness in your eyes.  They were bloodshot--you were no doubt drunk.  Your face was red and puffy.  You cried a lot when Kaeya told you, didn't you?  "...I can explain."

"There is no undoing this," you cried out and shook your head.  "You'll only dig yourself a deeper grave.  Get the hell out of my sight.  I never want to see you again!"

Reed, he pleaded silently, but red hair obscured his view of you.

"I'm going to have to ask you to vacate the premises, sir.  If you don't leave her alone, this constitutes as harassment and we do have a knight here that can arrest you."

"Tch.  Some 'knight.'"  The cocky grin on the cavalry captain only made Childe's hatred deepen.  As much as he wanted to stay and try to get through to you, he'd have to force himself to leave--a harbinger making ruckus in two nations would definitely not give the Tsaritsa a good look.

..........

You needed to cool off.  Diluc let you crash at the tavern much to your delight and less to his--he had insisted you come with him to his mansion since it'd be more comfortable for a lady, but you had refused and said the table you sat at was fine enough.  Kaeya had left some time after Childe had, chuckling at some joke he made about the situation that wasn't funny.  

The early sunrise gave you the opportunity to leave Mond before Childe could try to talk to you again.  Luckily you hadn't brought much with you on the trip anyway, so you just walked out the gates with the clothes on your back without visiting the apartment that man had rent you.  Surviving in the wilderness wasn't difficult and the nation of Liyue wasn't but two days' trip southwest.  You've made the journey many times when consulting with Diluc over Fatui intelligence.

You weren't but halfway to Liyue Harbor--one and a half days' journey--when you encountered your first lawachurl of the trip.  Usually they weren't near the roadside and they were easy to avoid, but this one was clearly agitated and actively looking for something to kill.  By the time you realized what you were looking at it was already upon you.  And if that weren't enough of an inconvenience, this lawachurl was different than the ones typically found in Liyue; it was purple.  Electro.

"Woah, what the hell?"  The words escaped you without you hearing them over the roar of the monster.  "You're not supposed to exist here--"  These were only found in Inazuma, a nation of islands several hundred miles away from the coast of the mainland.  What was it doing here?  They can't even swim!

"RAWWWWWRRRRRRRRR!" The beast bellowed yet again.  It leapt into the air and attempted to crush you beneath its feet.  Luckily you threw yourself out of the way just in time, the shock of the impact getting dirt into your mouth.  

You've never fought one before, but you've heard the stories.  They're a lot bigger in person.  If Childe hadn't reunited with you, you'd never be put in this situation.  That thought made your blood boil and skin flush crimson.  "Like hell you're gonna get in my way right now."  

"URGH!"  The lawachurl stumbled back when a wall of fire hit him.  

Small flames danced around your fingertips while you watched with an empty gaze.  "Maybe fire isn't so bad after all."

"Milady!  Stand back! We'll handle this!"  Your gaze left your fingers and greeted the Millelith.  Apparently this issue had somehow been reported to the Qixing...Were there more incidents like this while you were in Mond?

"What, you and your little spears?  You don't even have visions."

"Stand ba--"

"AWWRRR!"  The lawachurl charged at you with incredible speed.  It's fists crushed the ground where you stood, but a sharp gale roughly swept you off your feet.

"What--!"  Upon opening your eyes, you were greeted by particularly catlike eyes.  "U-um--"

"Don't turn your back to them," the man warned, setting you down on the tree branch he stood on.  Without wasting anymore time he disappeared before you and reappeared above the lawachurl.  He plunged his spear down through the top of the beast's head multiple times within a second.  It died not long after, its remains turning to ash that blew away with the light breeze that swept through the valley.

"'Them...?'"  There's more, a shiver rolled down your spine at the reward of your vantage point.  There are more.  Tens of them, all electro!  From what you could see through the golden leaves of the ginkgo tree you stood in, they were scattered across the yellow plains! How the hell did they...With widening eyes, your attention shifted down to the Millelith.  There were roughly ten of them, all battered down and overworked.  Tiny specs in the distance indicated these were the only ones left that could fight these things off.  

This wasn't some small random incident.  This was a battlefield.

Your gaze shifted to the mysterious young man that was killing the nearby lawachurls with the ease of a god.  This must be the Vigilant Yaksha Zhongli had told you stories of when you first began working at the parlor, right?  He certainly matched the description--

"Get down!"  The man shouted to the Millelith as he sliced through the air above them to intervene the lawachurls that nearly overran them.  "Useless!"  The Millelith weren't of any help to this situation; they were practically fodder and so easily slaughtered being the normal humans they were.

Your feet acted before your mind did.  Just as the yaksha cut through the air again, you punched the nearest lawachurl with a fiery fist to create a swirl reaction.  It died almost instantly.  The two of you nodded at one another, then he turned to the Millelith.

"These are matters for adepti.  Stay out of my way."

"Y-Yes sir!"  One of them said and ordered for another to report back to the Harbor to inform the Qixing of the situation.  As they began to jog off, you turned to the yaksha.

"That means you too," he summoned his mask.

"But I can help!"

"Tch. Don't underestimate the abilities of adepti."  The masked man turned to you, and the sight of it made your blood run cold.  How did Mr. Zhongli know about such an intimidating person?

You straightened up and puffed out your chest.  "There's lots of them. Wouldn't it be better if you had all the help you could get?"

"This is nothing.  I've already cleared the road that leads to Liyue.  You'll have a safe passage. Go now."  He didn't wait for your response and was already on the other side of the river by the time you blinked.

"Like hell I'm gonna do that," you grumbled with burning skin.  "Better I take my anger out on these things than wreck my room--"

A roar that was loud enough to vibrate your bones erupted from behind you.  A lawachurl had somehow managed to sneak up on you within mere seconds of the yaksha's absence, and he was already long-gone somewhere in the plains.  Startled, you spun around only for it's gigantic claw to swipe at you.

"Gngha!"  Your training kicked in and your forearm swept through the air to collide with it's claw.  The brute force of the monster's strength almost caused you to lose your footing--certainly a Visionless person would've been sent flying and severely injured--but you bit through the impact and dug your right boot into the soil.  The claw pressed further against you, the monster not expecting resistance but still refusing to give in, and electricity crackled in the air.  It pushed harder and harder until your knees nearly buckled under the weight.  "Tch...ngh...hAA!"

With flames dancing upon your skin from the edge of your boots to the forearm that was the only thing preventing you from being crushed, you pushed back twice as hard.  The fist of the lawachurl slowly but surely lifted away from you as you shoved.  The spot that was touching your forearm began to burn from the heat you emitted until smoke and the foul smell of burning flesh appeared.

The monster tried to pull away from you as pain spread through its claw, but your petite hands gripped its fingers and yanked them towards you with such a force that the entire being began to fall atop you.  "YOU'RE DEAD!"  The shadow of the beast that fell towards you blocked out the sun, but with a fiery fist you threw upwards and lit the way until it had burned through the body.  There you stood, quite literally in the carnage, with your body standing in the clear-cut cavity of the beast.  Just as quickly as it landed, it turned to ash.

Childe slowly relaxed his grip on the bowstring he held against his cheek and dismissed his weapon while you regained your breath.  So this is what you're capable of, he thought with a flicker of a smirk.  This is how mad he made you. You were cute when you were angry...how come he didn't piss you off sooner?  The sickly thrill he got at the idea of fighting you at your full potential was addicting, but as soon as it appeared it wore off after hearing the words you muttered.

"I swear to Rex Lapis if he ever comes near me again, I'll kill him."

He knew you meant it much to his delight and sorrow.  The fire burning brightly in your eyes was deadly, the deep passion of the flames that licked your arm slowly burning your skin...

You didn't so much as flinch as it did.

[rocorambles]

Stranger Danger

Pairing: Matsukawa x Reader x Hanamaki

Genre/Warning: Yandere, Dub-con, Rape/Non-con, Blood Play, Knife Play, Degradation, Smut

Summary: Kindness has you beckoning two handsome strangers into your home during a particularly bad thunderstorm, but little do you know just how much you’ll regret that decision. 

The thunderstorm is roaring outside and you sigh as you finally turn off your computer. Thank goodness it’s a Friday at least and you won’t have to sign back on for work until Monday. You’re thankful your gig lets you work from home as you stare out at the torrential downpour and your nose crinkles in distaste at even imagining having to commute in this weather. A little growl interrupts your thoughts and you rub your stomach as you wander towards the kitchen. You hadn’t eaten much today, too caught up in work and making sure deliverables were handed in on time, but now that your mind isn’t occupied, you realize how hungry you actually are. Humming, you cut and prep ingredients for a warm, comforting stew, the perfect dish for a gloomy wet day and soon your kitchen is filled with a soothing melody of a knife rhythmically hitting the cutting board and raindrops pitter pattering on your window. 

You’re startled by the sound of your doorbell ringing. You weren’t expecting any visitors and your house is so out of the way, tucked in a quiet corner of the woods, that you’re honestly surprised and a little frightened that someone had even found it. Knife in hand, you quietly walk towards your front door and peer out your door viewer. You’re met with the sight of two men who roughly seem your age, maybe in their late 20s, standing drenched outside your house. Unsure of what to do, you continue spying on them as they insistently ring and knock. You have to admit, they’re easy on the eyes, you can tell even through the little hole, and it’s been so long since you’ve last hung out with anyone. You chose to live a quiet hermit life, but it didn’t mean you were completely immune to the pangs of loneliness that crept up every once in a while. You examine them closely...they don’t have any suspicious bags or items on their person, they’re empty handed...what could possibly be the worst thing that could happen? With that thought, you finally unlock the door and come face to face with the duo. 

You had already vaguely thought the two were attractive behind your tiny peep hole, but now standing in front of them in person, you’re slightly taken aback by how good looking they are. The chestnut colored hair man speaks first. “Sorry, our car is running really low on gas and we don’t know the area too well. We didn’t want to keep on driving and get stuck in this weather, so we just decided to drop by the nearest house we could find. Do you mind if we stick it out until the storm subsides a little?” You’re a little uncertain about letting two strangers waltz into your home, but he seems so genuine and nice. His charming smile tugs at your heart, but you stare warily at the taller of the two who still hasn’t said a word. There’s something a little more intimidating about the dark curly-haired figure and a little warning bell sounds in the back of your mind. Sensing your hesitation, the shorter of the two nudges the other in the side and with a grunt, the taller one bows politely in greeting and also implores you for help. You didn’t want to send them back off into the terrible weather and if you’re honest, some company would be nice. Stepping aside, you beckon them in. 

You hand them some spare towels and the biggest athletic wear you can find in your closet as you guide them to the bathroom and let them change out of their rain-soaked clothing and freshen up. Soon enough, the three of you are in your small kitchen getting to know each other as you prepare dinner together. “We’re Matsukawa Issei and Hanamaki Takahiro, but please just call us Mattsun and Makki.” You laugh and begin to enjoy yourself as you talk more to the two men. Makki is definitely the friendlier of the two, easily chatting away and making you giggle. But although Mattsun is quieter and more reserved, his quick wit and snarky playful comments spice up the conversation and the three of you find an easy cadence. They listen closely as you explain why you live in such an isolated part of the woods. You’ve always been a little more introverted by nature, so you had jumped at the opportunity of being able to work remotely and used it to find this quaint cottage in the forest where only nature could bother you. There were no nearby neighbors to worry about and your friends and parents all lived so far away, they rarely came to visit you. As you turn your back on your guests to ladle the stew into bowls, you miss the dark look the men exchange behind you.

Dinner goes on without a hitch and now with bellies full and dishes clean, the three of you lounge on your couch lazily watching Netflix. When you had bought furniture, you had only planned for yourself, so the couch is a bit small for three adults, but you make it work as you sit in the middle, Makki and Mattsun positioned on either side of you, so close that you can feel the warmth of their bodies. You slightly flush, but you don’t think much of it as you continue watching the flickering screen. Mattsun shifts and suddenly his left arm is wrapped around the sofa back behind you and you can feel your back pressing up against his forearm, but thinking he’s just trying to get comfortable, you continue to ignore the two men. It’s only when Makki’s right hand softly trails up your left thigh that you confusedly turn to stare at the grinning boy. Makki tentatively leans in for a kiss and after he pulls away, he fondly looks at you. “Are you okay with this?” Strong arms wrap around your waist from behind you and you turn your head to stare at Mattsun smirking down at you. “Well, are you?” There’s only a slight pause before you nod your head and Makki lifts you in his arms as you direct him to your bedroom. 

Only when he has gently deposited you on your bed do you realize that Mattsun hasn’t followed the two of you. You question Makki about his friend’s whereabouts, but Makki just hushes you with a heated kiss. “He’ll be here soon. Just focus on me for now.” And you can’t do anything besides that when Makki playfully bites your bottom lip before entangling his tongue with yours. It’s been so long since your last sexual escapade and you quickly lose yourself in the heat of another body and your eyes close as your mouths continue their dance. Makki’s fingers skillfully rid you of your clothes and reposition you until you’re both upright with you kneeling between Makki’s outstretched legs. But a startled choke has you tearing your face away from Makki as you feel something sharp begin to dig into your back. You try to twist your body around, but Makki’s firm hold on you doesn’t allow for much range. However, with what movement your neck allows you, you see Mattsun behind you, tracing the tip of one of your kitchen knives into your skin, his once apathetic countenance now replaced by a feral predatory grin. 

You clutch at Makki desperately, hoping to reason with the kinder of the two. “Please, Makki, make him stop.” You plead, tears beginning to form in the corner of your eyes, but Makki just gently kisses you and affectionately wipes the tears away. “Just bear with it, sweetheart. Struggling only makes it worse and you don’t want to make Mattsun angry. He was so cruel to the other darlings who wouldn’t let him carve his pretty marks into them.” Other darlings? Just how many people had fallen victim to this insane duo. You don’t realize you’ve said your thoughts aloud until Makki laughs and grabs your jaw forcing you to look him in the eye. “You’d be surprised how many silly girls like you just welcome big bad wolves into their homes. It’s almost like you all want to be eaten,” he coos. Anger and humiliation have you ready to retort scathingly, but instead you wail in pain as Mattsun begins to carve and you feel hot liquid running down your back. Makki uses the chance to devour your lips once again, moving one arm to fully encircle your waist and hold your figure tight to him while his other hand begins to roughly twist and pull at your nipples. You want to focus on the pain, to focus on how wrong this all is, but pleasure threatens to cloud your senses as Makki begins to suck harsh marks down your neck and your nipples harden as his hand continues to fondle them. 

It feels like time is crawling as pain and pleasure both equally envelope you, but finally metal stops tearing through you and Makki lets you collapse face first onto the bed as Mattsun and him admire the artwork now etched into you. You hear a snap before you feel the weight of Makki lying next to you, gently stroking your hair behind your ear as he shows you the picture he took and a sob escapes you as you stare at the kanji of their names crudely cut into your once unmarred back. A rough hand forces your head up and you’re forced to prop yourself up on your hands and knees to lessen the strain in your back and neck as you look up into Mattsun’s face. “You’re going to look so beautiful when this scars over and you’re permanently branded. No one else is ever going to want damaged goods like you, so you better just start accepting the fact that you belong to us now.” That’s all the preamble you get before you’re slapped in the face by a thick heavy weight and you let out more broken cries when you realize you’re now face to face with Mattsun’s cock, already slick with pre-cum and at full mast. Your stomach churns at the fact that the bastard is getting turned on by your pain and suffering, but you don’t have time to delve too much into your thoughts as Mattsun slaps you across the face once more before rubbing his tip all over your face, smearing pre-cum into your skin. “Open up, whore. Don’t even think about biting down or I’ll leave some more pretty art on your body.” You obediently open your mouth as fear lances through your body at the feeling of a sharp edge warningly being pressed into your throat.

Mattsun is big and you struggle to fit even half of him inside your mouth. With an annoyed sigh, he grabs the back of your head and slams all the way into your throat and you screech, fingernails clawing at his thighs. Your throat burns and you can’t breathe, but Mattsun just moans as he starts to fuck your tight mouth with abandon. Tears, snot, and drool are cascading into a sloppy pool beneath you, but your messy pathetic face only turns him on more. “Yeah, keep on crying, sweetheart. Fuck, that’s hot.” You’re so overwhelmed by the lack of oxygen and the building burn of your mouth being stretched that you’re barely aware of Makki situating himself behind you until he rams his entire length inside you in one rough motion. Everything hurts. You’re so filled and stretched and neither man relents as they continue their brutal assault on your holes. There’s no care for your pleasure or discomfort as they savagely chase their own ends and you lie there limply, taking it like the good sex doll they’ve made you into. 

Your consciousness begins to crawl in on itself in an attempt to at least mentally escape what’s happening, but even that is taken from you as Makki begins to attentively circle and play with your clit and you want to die when you feel arousal licking at the corners of your brain. “You don’t get to escape, darling. I want you to feel everything that’s happening. I want you to experience your own body betraying you when it falls apart in pleasure. Cry and scream all you want. At least your body is honest about how it feels.” And that’s exactly what you do. Sobs wrack your body as desire bubbles within you and you peak when the bitter taste of Mattsun’s release coats your tongue. “Fuck, you dirty slut. Did you get off to just the taste of my cum? God, we chose well, Makki. It’s like she was made for this.” Makki doesn’t reply, too busy pounding into you as you scream at the pain of being overstimulated. Your throat is hoarse and your upper body is collapsed on the bed, but you continue brokenly bawling into the ruined sheets beneath you even after Makki roughly sinks into you one last time and releases deep within you.

Still trembling, you take a deep shaky breath, thankful that at least it’s over and you beg them  to just leave you alone now that they’re done. But your heart sinks as Makki tenderly strokes your head and leans down to smile at you. “We’re nowhere near done with you, sweetheart. Weren’t you listening when Mattsun said you belong to us now?” You hiss as strong arms rearrange you until you’re sitting in a lap with your back pressed against a firm chest, making your abused pussy and still healing wounds throb in pain. “We have the rest of your life left or until we get bored of you, whichever comes first,” Mattsun purrs into your ear. “So if you want us to keep you alive, you better keep us happy.” Those words are barely out of his mouth before Mattsun is guiding you to perch above his shaft and with a rough jerk, he bottoms out completely within you and begins to manhandle you into bouncing on his length. Silent tears trail down your face as you send a desperate prayer for someone to save you before slumping your head back onto Mattsun’s shoulder. Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to collapse in his hold.