#couples who arrive at the function in wildly different outfits>>>>

[sad-emo-dip-dye]

Akutagawa said slay and Atsushi heard play

[theartofbeinganeldar]

The Art of Being an Eldar: Legolas x Reader Chapter 3

Summary: You, a fantasy-loving LARPing human from Earth, got dropped into Middle-Earth with no recollection of the place except for bits and pieces. Lord Fabulous Elvenking has given you three days to find the portal from which you came, with the aide of his son Legolas, who you've taken to calling "Blue-Eyes." If you don't find the portal, you're to be taken back to the palace for a swift execution...

Chapter No.: Chapter 2

Key:

[Y/N]=Your Name [F/N]= Friend's Name [B/N]= Bro's Name [S/N]= Sis's Name [M/N]= Mom's Name [e/c]= eye color [h/c]= hair color [s/c]= skin color

Notes: I actually researched the languages using a website called elfdict,but I don’t know if the orcish is correct...

Warnings: Fluff, angst, graphic depictions of gore and violence (Cuz of orc battles y'know?), more angst, slow burn, some light depression in the first few chapters, some amnesia about Middle-Earth because the Valar say you're not supposed to have foresight, hard-core language, feels, lots and lots of feels, mentions of NSFW content, maybe some eventual NSFW content, LGTBQ+ characters, Thranduil being a jackass at first because he's fabulous, Legolas being a hot edgy prince that nobody can handle, Kili being an innocent bean, Hobbits being smol innocent beans, except for Bilbo 'cause he's been through some tough shit, Bard being dad of the year, Thorin being one dumbass boi, awesome dragons, awesome Nazgul, awesome scenery, awesome stuff in general, Elrond isn't listened to by anybody, confused Aragorn is confused,  Denethor's a bitch as always, brace yourself for creepy as fuck Cream of Wormtongue Grima Wormtongue, Boromir lives, Gandalf. (yes these are all legit warnings don't judge me.)

Pairings/Ships: Legolas x Reader, Legolas x you, Aragorn x Arwen, Faramir x Eowyn, Thranduil x Elvenqueen, Galadriel x Celery Celeborn, Boromir x OC, Thorin x OC, Fili x OC, etc. general LoTR standard shippings plus some of my own cuz I can't stand my boys being lonely

Word Count: I try to keep my chapters short, under 2000 words.

Rating: Teen (14+) for now

Starting at dawn every day, you, Legolas, and the troop of Elves searched repeatedly for the portal. You threw yourself off of the tree countless times. You laid in the spot for hours. At one point, the Elves had even used some kind of sheet made of leaves and their supernatural strength to fling you up like a trampoline to see if the portal was aboveground.

Nothing happened.

As the days wore on, you grew more and more bitter. Every move felt exhausting, and like there was no use: you couldn't get back to your family.

You couldn't live here. There seemed to be no point of your existence anymore.

Somewhere around sunset of the second day, Blue-Eyes noticed your sudden lack of enthusiasm. "May I ask what troubles you?"

You scoffed. "Why do you care? I'll be dead in about forty-eight hours anyway. What I feel doesn't matter."

"I beg to differ," Legolas took a seat beside you; you scooted a couple of inches away. "You are in our world now, so you will go to our gods for judgement when you die."

You frowned. You'd always been kinda an atheist. "The Valar?"

Legolas nodded. "Yes. The Valar. Your feelings before death will determine whether or not you'll be given a good place among them."

You rolled your eyes. "You're kidding, right? They'll judge me for being pissed off and upset 'cause I can't get back to my own world to see my family, then killed just for breathing on Lord Fabulous's precious trees? They can go fuck themselves."

His face was priceless. If you hadn't been so pissed, you might've laughed. "...Lord... Fabulous? And, while I have my doubts about your recent hand gesturing, I do know that what you just said is most likely vulgar. Have respect for the Valar."

You snorted. "First of all, fabulous means somebody who loves dressing in the best and most well-liked outfits of the time, while also being very uppity and acting like they're God's gift to humanity. Second of all, yeah, that is vulgar, and no I will not take it back. Third, how fucking dare you, sir, to tell me to respect some candy-ass bitches up in the sky who'll judge me for having feelings."

Legolas shook his head. "Alright, ass is a word we do have here, as is candy. I can get the gist of that meaning. I cannot force you to have respect for them, especially when they brought you here."

You glared at him. "Yeah, whatever. Just leave me alone."

Blue-Eyes sighed. "As you wish."

You turned away, scrunching up into yourself against the night chill.

On the edge of night...

All shall fade...

With a huff, you curled up where you were and tried to fall asleep.

**

A beautiful copper dragon sat before you on a mound of gold. "Do you think flattery will keep you alive?"

"N-no..." Said the silhouette of a very small person.

"No indeed," Confirmed the dragon. He began to prowl around. "You seem familiar with my name, but I don't remember smelling your kind before. Who are you, and where do you come from, if I may ask?"

The dream flipped.

You stood between two Elves in silver robes, one of which was Blue-Eyes, looking sullen. "Tell me," Said the other Elf, "Where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him."

Legolas's crystal blue eyes glistened with tears, but he held them back. He'd never seemed like one to cry. "He was taken by both shadow and flame. A balrog of Morgoth."

The dream--no, vision-- changed again.

Before you was an old man in blue-gray robes with a long gray beard and pointed hat, smiling kindly up at what looked like a child. You couldn't turn your head to see. "A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins, nor is he ever early. He arrives precisely when he means to."

The visions flashed in your mind quickly now, too fast for you to discern much from them.

"Sauron's forces are massing in the east."

"This is no mere ranger! He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir to the throne of Gondor. You owe him your allegiance."

"Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king."

"I ain't droppin' no eaves, Mister Frodo!"

"I choose a mortal life."

"The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid!"

"He is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, the true King under the Mountain."

"You have the gift of foresight. What did you see?"

"Arwen..."

"What did you see?"

"I saw death. Your death."

"But there is also life. You saw my son."

"You have my sword."

"And my bow."

"And my axe!"

"If this is what the council decides, then Gondor will see it is done."

"Things that were... Things that are... And things that have not yet come to pass."

"Did he offer you a bargain?"

"Yes. I refused."

"A bargain was our only hope..."

"Have you forgotten what happened to Dale?"

"I am fire... I am...Death."

~ominous as fuck time skip~

You woke with a start, the dragon's words still echoing in your head. You knew over half of those names, deep in your mind... Sauron, Morgoth, balrog, Thorin, Frodo, Aragorn, Gandalf... You knew the voices, too. But you couldn't place any of them.

The Elves were already awake (With the sun as usual.), readying their breakfast of weeds.

You frowned. Why should you be concerned with why this place sounds familiar if you weren't going to be here much longer? You got up, and prepared to search for the portal-- you didn't want any breakfast, especially when it was nothing but dandelion fluff and sparkles.

"You are not breaking your fast?" Blue-Eyes asked you, and at first you thought he was using Elvish slang.

"You mean I'm not eating breakfast?"

"If that is how you say it in your world, yes."

You shrugged. "I'll be dead later anyway. What's the point?"

Legolas sighed. "To keep up your strength to find your way back. What if you arrive back on your world in the middle of the wilderness, like you did here? You will have no supplies, and I doubt you know much about foraging."

You huffed. "You know what? Screw off. I don't want anything to eat, and you can fucking deal with that."

He looked up in exasperation, probably praying to his Valar for you to stop being such a nuisance. "You use that word an awful lot."

"What word?"

"Fuck."

Then you almost busted out laughing, because a fancy pretty sparkly Elf, even if he was deadly, saying a modern cuss word was too funny.

He blinked. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

You snorted, crossing your arms. "Do you even know what the definition of that word is?"

"No." You gestured for him to come closer, then whispered the meaning into his ear. He sprang back wildly with wide eyes and a profoundly disgusted expression. "Dear Valar, I will never repeat a word you say again unless I am sure of what it means!" His eyes widened even further. "Wait... You just told the gods to perform impossible sexual acts on themselves! And the day before you told me to..." He stopped short, appalled.

"Yuh-huh. Just now gettin' that, goldie? For shame upon me." A thought struck you. "Wait, do Elves even have sex like humans? Do you even know what I'm talking about?"

He blushed a little. "Find the portal. Quickly." He awkwardly left, sparing you a quick glance like "wtf."

You grinned maliciously, then went back to your search.

By sundown, nothing was found. You stared down at the patch where you'd originally landed, wishing for all the world that you'd been born normal, with maybe a slight love for fantasy. Why? Why had you wished, for all of your life, that you'd been transported elsewhere? Now you were, but... You didn't have your family. Without them, you couldn't function right. You just couldn't imagine never seeing them again.

The Elves were already leaving, except for Blue-Eyes. He stood by your side for a minute, as if you were both staring at a grave. You might as well have been. "Bury me here, will you? Maybe my family will find my body. And kill me as non-messily as possible, please? Like, an arrow to the heart'll do."

Blue-Eyes stiffly patted your back. You went ramrod straight-- you'd always hated touch contact. "I will pray for you." He followed his comrades, who were already a good ways back to the river, spread out through the forest. You half considered running in the opposite direction, but you'd be dead before you even so much as got to the ridge where the first of the big dogs had attacked you.

You sighed, and forced yourself to move forward; you gasped as your ankle slipped into a rut, and you yanked it out, arms spread wide for balance. You gave the ground the dirtiest look you could muster, which quickly faded to stunned silence. You leaned down, and scraped more of the dried leaves away...

Your breath caught in your throat. "Blue-Eyes!"

Legolas was at your side in a moment. "Did you find it?"

"I don't know!" You stood and gestured to what you'd found. An inscription, in a language you couldn't read. "It was buried under the leaves."

"Can you read it?"

"Obviously not, dumbass. Is it Elvish?"

Blue-Eyes knelt, tilting his head slightly to read it. His hand grazed the writing. "It is a form of old Elvish, used in the time of Gondolin. This has been here for a very, very long time." He gave you a look. "Forgive me, I'd thought you'd written it at first." You thought about smacking him upside the head, but with everybody suddenly around you again and ready to attack, you thought better of it. Legolas turned back to the writing.

After an almost unspeakably long amount of time, you got impatient. "What's it say, dammit?!"

Legolas shook his head slowly. "I am sorry. Truly, I am. If we had seen this earlier..."

"What does it say, Legolas?!"

He stood, and looked you in the eyes, sympathetic. "'The way is shut. There is no going back. The way is shut, until next fiery moonlight.'"

Your face lit up. "R-really?! Then that means all we have to do is wait for a full moon, right?! That's usually what it is! Full moon at midnight for stuff like this, in all the books! Do you think Lord Fabulous could extend my sentence--"

"[Y/N]," It was the first time he'd used your name, and it made you freeze. "The night you arrived, the moon was full. But it was also a Firemoon. It means you cannot return to your world until the next Firemoon."

Your hopes slowly fell, but you were determined not to succumb to the panic that was quickly rising. "H-how much longer till the next one?"

Legolas put a hand on your shoulder, trying to get you to understand.

"Firemoons only happen once every thousand years, [Y/N]." The words were like being hit by a semi going full speed on the highway-- sudden, fatal, and unbelievable. "You cannot go home."

Everything suddenly seemed far away, like you were seeing this from someone else's perspective. Everything went quiet, at least to you. The world seemed to spin. You dropped to your knees, and you were vaguely aware of Blue-Eyes saying, "I am sorry..."

You didn't know what to do. I can't go home... I can't go home...

I can't go home.

Your breaths came in panicked, short bursts. Even if it killed you, you took off running. Maybe if you ran for long enough, you'd wake up from this nightmare. Then you could pretend you were in some fantasy world with your family this time. You expected to be shot in the back, but you heard Blue-Eyes shout an order in Elvish, and instead, about three or four individual Elves followed you. You don't know how long you ran; tears streamed from your cheeks. Your lungs burned. Your legs felt like Jello. You collapsed at one point, and screamed, though you couldn't hear it. You screamed until your throat was raw. You were vaguely aware of a few Elves nearby, but you ignored them.

All shall...

In all the chaos, it wasn't long before you blacked out.

...Fade...

~emo time skip~

When you woke up, it was midmorning. Birds chirped endlessly on, the happiest goddamned creatures in the world. A couple of Elves talked quietly amongst themselves in hushed voices and in Elvish. You were laying on your back, and somebody had covered you up in a blanket. The smell of something good-- not that anything was, at this point--filled the air. It smelled like cinnamon and walnuts, like Christmas.

With a sigh, you cracked your swollen eyes open. Legolas sat cross-legged beside you, checking his bowstring and polishing the wood. He smiled half-heartedly at you. "You are awake."

Obviously. You didn't say anything. You didn't want to talk. Or think. Legolas sighed, placing his bow across his lap. "We must head for the palace. My father will wonder what is keeping us."

Yeah, gotta kill me as quick as possible... Death is better than this, anyway.

Legolas gave the order, and the Elves started to pack up. You laid monotone and still for the length of it, until Blue-Eyes gave you the signal to get up. Then you walked slowly behind them, every step a chore. You'd barely reached the river, and you were exhausted. And still, that damned song was going through your head...

Home is behind...

The world ahead...

All shall fade...

You knew that your dream last night had been connected to this place, whatever it was. Did that mean this song was, too? You were half tempted to ask Blue-Eyes, but you decided you weren't worthy of talking to any of these fantastical fantasy beings, even if they were going to kill you in t-minus some hours.

The company suddenly halted. Blue-Eyes had a hand raised, and all the Elves's weapons had materialized in their hands. Blue-Eyes was quiet, listening...

An eerie howl cut through the trees, chilling you to your bones. Was that one of those big dogs that carried orcs? A horn followed the howl, and all the Elves strung their bows and readied their weapons. "Gundabad yrch!" Legolas proclaimed-- you were going to assume that yrch meant orcs. He went on to give a bunch of other orders, and the Elves took off running; if it were up to you, you'd've stopped running and let the dogs have you for dinner.

But apparently Legolas seen that, and grabbed your upper arm to drag you along beside him. Damn him... The rest of the Elves were suddenly ignoring Blue-Eyes's orders. Half of them went off into the trees in the direction of the horn and howl, and the other half formed a protective circle around him-- and you, coincidentally.

Blue-Eyes barked an order at them which they ignored, but all of you stopped short when you seen what awaited you on the far bank; the way back to the palace.

Six massive wargs, more wolflike than the ones from before, with orcs a hell of a lot uglier than the ones from before sitting atop their backs, with black bows and jagged, haphazard swords. In the direction the other Elves had gone, there was more howling. Shit. If you cared about your survival right now, you'd've been terrified. But you almost enjoyed the thought of death, if it hadn't been so gruesome.

Blue-Eyes scanned the bank. There were more orcs nearby, on foot, and several more wargs. One of the Elves moved faster than you could see, snatching a sleek gold horn on his hip and blowing hard before Legolas could stop him.

The Elf-- it was the one that'd found your hair dye repulsive the other day-- hardly got a note out before an arrow lodged itself in his throat. The note trailed off into a gurgle as blood sprayed from the wound. Droplets splattered onto you, and you recoiled; you'd never seen death. You'd been to a funeral once or twice, but never this. He fell backward, and the river swiftly carried his body away.

Legolas shouted an order, and the Elves readied themselves for battle. But there wouldn't be one just yet, despite the death of that Elf. The lead orc-- a nasty, pale gray orc with swollen eyes and a protruding mouth, tall and thick, his forehead covered in scars-- stepped off of his warg, which was bigger than the rest.

He came about halfway before stopping. "A truce?" One of the Elves asked-- Common was probably hard to speak for orcs, so they resorted to it to keep from being understood. It made sense.

Legolas didn't take his eyes off of the orc, but shook his head. "That is Bolg, spawn of Azog the Defiler. He would not make any truce with us, nor would any other orc. They are beyond reason, and think only of blood and death." Bolg... Azog... Now you really knew these names... But why?

"Albai," The orc snarled; his voice was deep. "Dorzog ajog lum trov!"

"Emme uva!" Legolas cried. "Sin nor yara ana Aran Thranduil!"

Thranduil... You knew that name. But the fact that they were conversing in orcish and Elvish was astounding. One must've came from the other, and you were just going to assume that it was the orcish that came from Elvish.

Bolg's already disgusting face scrunched up into a frown. "Vol lat diig!" The orc raised an arm; you recognized the movement as a signal to fire. The Elves scrambled around wildly yet gracefully to avoid the arrows, but you barely moved; an arrow got you right in the bare part of your upper arm, and another grazed your ear. Still, you didn't move, praying for one to hit you in the head or heart or something. You hardly felt the pain.

As the battle took place around you, you zoned out. You caught glimpses of a bloodied Elven corpse, or a dismembered orc, and of course, blood was everywhere. The river ran red. You just wished it would end...

A grunt nearby brought you out of your trance.

It was Blue-Eyes, being pinned down by a warg's paw on his chest, another on his left arm. He flipped the dagger in his good hand and stabbed it violently into the warg's shoulder. The beast howled in agony, but only pushed down harder; Legolas's eyes widened as he realized the knife was stuck. The warg snarled, and opened its jaws, savoring the taste of fear before it would bite down...

None of this is his fault. He shouldn't have to die.

The warg had dismissed you as unthreatening. One of the Elves lay dead on the rocks nearby, a longblade in her hand as she stared with unseeing eyes to the sky, mouth agape. You snatched the weapon from her already-stiffening grasp. It was heavy. But it was sharp as hell.

In two leaps, you'd reached the warg, which looked to you in confusion, then recognition, with a growl. You brought the sword down, slicing deep into the creature's face. It wailed in an echo of a voice, and released Legolas, pawing at the wound; Legolas whipped his bow out like an OP follower and shot that dog point blank.

You let go of the hilt, stunned. Blue-Eyes inclined his head. "You have my deepest thanks, [Y/N.]. You saved my life."

You just nodded in shock.

Legolas raced back into the battle, leaving you to your own. Another horn blew, this one like the one the Elf that'd been shot first had blown. A barrage of arrows flew from the trees, felling every orc and warg in seconds. Some grazed you, but none touched any of the surviving Elves.

A she-Elf in a dark green tunic, carrying a longbow, loped out of the woods with her comrades. She was beautiful, with red hair so long it went past her waist. "Legolas!" She cried, and he responded in Elvish; again, you couldn't understand what they were saying, and it was really starting to piss you off.

"[Y/N]," Blue-Eyes called to you, and you belatedly looked up. He and the ginger were approaching you sollemnly. "This is Tauriel, Captain of the Guard. She will take you back to the palace and explain what happened here." Ah... Death at last.

"Tauriel," Legolas turned to her; something shone in his eyes. You recognized his spark, but not hers, but the thought quickly left your head when you registered what he was saying. "Tell my father that they saved my life."

"What?" Tauriel looked impressed, and bowed her head to you. "You have my thanks, mellon."

"Perhaps he will spare them from execution in repayment," Legolas pointed out, and Tauriel made an 'o' face.

She bowed respectfully. "I will make sure of it, my prince."

Wut.

Oh, right. Blue-Eye's dad was Lord Fabulous, king of these Elves. Of course that'd make him a prince. Prince Legolas Gr... Of the Wood... Rea... The thought was like an echo. You couldn't catch it.

Legolas nodded to you, and Tauriel lead you away from the carnage of the river battlefield.

~time skip~

"Saving my son does not grant you my utmost favor," Lord Fabulous glared down at you like you were a nasty piece of gum he'd stepped on in flip-flops. "But it does warrant some form of reward. I am sure you wish for your execution to be cancelled?"

On autopilot, you nodded. You didn't want to die, but you didn't want to live. You just wished you'd never have existed in the first place, that way none of this would've happened.

Lord Fabulous Elvenking snorted, like he was hoping you'd just ask for cake before you were beheaded. "Of course. Take them to their cell."

Tauriel wasn't as rough as Legolas, or even any of the guards had been, but she still held you firmly. "Would you like a change of clothes? I could also arrange for a washbasin to be brought to you."

You just nodded. Couldn't you just dissipate? But, if it'd taken nineteen years for this wish to come true, then it'd take another nineteen years for you to disappear. You were an Elf now, so that should pass in one painful blink of an eye...

"I am sorry that you could not find the portal," Tauriel told you as she locked the door to your cell. "I will have the guards bring you something to eat at once."

You laid down on your cot, curled up, and closed your eyes. You heard the guard come and deliver the food, then leave quietly, but you still didn't move. You didn't move when Tauriel brought you clothes and a bucket of water and rags, you didn't move when Blue-Eyes came to thank you again, you didn't move when a rat came and took your cheese. You just laid there, staring and feeling dead on the inside.

You refused to eat or drink for the next few days. You slept, mostly. When you were awake, you were crying silently. You dreamed of your family. You grieved. Your muscles cramped from sleeping in one position for days. Your stomach felt like it was going to eat you alive. Your mouth was as dry as sandpaper. A hollow ache had settled in the core of your torso, between your heart and lungs; a pulsing orb of sadness, regret, and the wish to disappear. A couple of times, you passed out from hunger while laying down. But you were an Elf, so it'd be hard for you to starve.

You kept count of the days by the cycle of guards exchanging meals. Every tray held different things for different mealtimes: fruits and bread for breakfast, cheese and bread for lunch, and a thick vegetable soup for dinner. About nine days went by before anyone came to check on you, and by that point, you were hysterical on the inside. On the outside, you were catatonic.

And you reeked, because you hadn't had a shower in like, awhile.

After two battles.

So you weren't at your best.

"My guards tell me you refuse to sustain yourself." It was Blue-Eyes. "Do you realize how much of an offense that is to his majesty? He allows you to live, and yet you seek death out deliberately."

You said nothing. Hell, your eyes didn't even move. With a sigh, Blue-Eyes moved to your bedside. "Ah, I see you have also refused to bathe..." You didn't crack a smile. Even on the inside, you hardly felt a twinge of amusement. You felt... Empty.

Legolas surprised you by placing a hand on your cheek. "You miss them, don't you?"

Tears welled in your eyes. Dammit stop making me have feels. Ah, but feels you had, my friend, and you started bawling into your pillow. Legolas shushed you, and petted your head and told you it would be alright. You don't know how long you cried, but at one point, Legolas and Tauriel switched places, even though she clearly didn't want to and sucked at emotional talking.

When it was Legolas's turn again, you'd finally gotten to the nearly-finished state of hyperactive wheezing. "How long were you holding that in, I wonder?" You still didn't answer. He gave you a sympathetic smile. "You saved my life. Let me help you save yours. Get up. You will eat, even if I must force it down your throat, and once you're full, you'll bathe. After, I will take you for a tour of Mirkwood. You'll be living here, now... I suppose it's only right you learn how to navigate your homeland."

Finally, it clicked.

"Wh...What did you say...?" Your voice was hoarse from underuse and crying, but it still worked.

Legolas gave you a concerned look, like that much crying might've damaged your hearing. "I said I will take you for a tour of Mirkwood--"

You sat up; too fast, but you sat up. Your sugar dropped. But you had to know. "Mirkwood... Where is that?"

Legolas frowned. "East of the Misty Mountains, west of Erebor, home to the dwarves and the King Under the Mountain. North of Ithilien, Gondor, and northeast to Lothlorien, Ithilien, and Rohan."

Oh fuck.

"Wh-what is this place called? In general? Collectively? Like, the whole continent?"

Legolas seemed to finally realize that you were crazy. "Middle-Earth."

Oh hell.

"Holy shit..."

"What is it?"

You couldn't remember it clearly. Hell, you could hardly remember it at all. But what you did remember finally made sense. Tolkien's fantasy masterpiece that no one can surpass... The Hobbit... Lord of The Rings... The Fellowship... Smaug, Thorin, Bilbo... Aragorn, Arwen... Thranduil, Legolas, Tauriel... Oh gods, Legolas! "I-I... The books... Oh, gods..."

"Mellon...?"

You promptly fell face-first off the bed before any half-assed explanation could be given to poor Golden Boy.

"[Y/N]?!"

...

Home is behind...

The world ahead...

And there are many paths to tread...

Through shadow, to the edge of night...

Until the stars are all alight...

Mist and shadow...

Cloud and shade...

All shall fade...

All shall...

...Fade...

Tag List: @tesserphantom​ @thedragonghostofmordor​

[k-i-s-m-e-t]

Better Late Than Never

Fandom: 19 days Rating: Mature Status: Complete Warnings: None Pairing: TianShan Words: 3,889

Ok so this was supposed to be for Day 6 of the tianshanxmasevent but ya girl is not the best at deadlines. Imagine what kind of student I am 😂, any-who I hope you enjoy<3

Summary: Mo didn’t expect his morning commute to be this lively.

“I-can’t-be-late-again-I-can’t-be-late-again” Mo chanted feet pounding the pavement as he raced down the sidewalk, shoulder bag smacking against his side with each step, cold air he sucks in slicing his lungs to ribbons. Exertion made his legs burn, having sprinted the past couple blocks from his apartment but He.Had.To.Catch.This.Train! The express trains came about once an hour and stuck painfully to schedule. In approximately five minutes the next one would depart, with or without him. If he caught it, he’d arrive at work in about ten minutes, right at 9 AM. If he missed it well, his boss had been pretty clear that the next time he was late, not to bother showing up at all. “Fuck this job,” he’d thought at the time, ungrateful, but now he recalled just how good he had it. He took lunch when he chose to, the work wasn’t demanding, he generally liked his co-workers and his boss was flexible about time off when he needed it. Not to mention it paid pretty well for a desk job. One more block and finally he could see the station. I’m gonna make it!

Racing through the entranceway he maneuvered skillfully past fellow commuters, muscle memory guiding him to the correct terminal. Throwing out an arm he snagged the banister and used his momentum to whip himself around and down the stairs taking them three at a time. He cleared the last five with a leap, landing just as the train pulled onto the platform, his heartbeat thudding in his ears. Fishing out his day pass he smacked it on the sensor pad.. it beeped and he relaxed a fraction. Yes! He cheered internally, surging forward then promptly winded himself on the turnstile when it didn’t budge. “The fuck!” he spat stepping back confused. Slapped the pass down again and actually looked at the panel this time. Expired. His stomach plummeted because deep down he knew he’d grabbed the wrong one from the pile on his desk in his hurry. No. No-no-no-no-no. Not today, absolutely not. Thinking quickly he threw a glance at the security desk. The guard on duty was an older gentleman, he’d probably be slow Mo reasoned stealing himself. Besides there was a queue of passengers in front of the station anyways, he won’t notice. Seizing the opportunity Mo shifted his weight to his back leg, hands planted firmly, in one fluid motion he hoisted himself over the turnstile and made a break for the train. Almost immediately a shout rings out. “Hey!! Stop right there!”

Of course. The thudding of heavy steps fell in line behind him and they’re fast. Comfortable with his head start Mo looked back and.. Oh crap! There was another guard on duty, one that was huge and gaining ground quickly. He reached the train just as the doors were closing, slammed his open palm out making them bounce open, before they reconfigured and slid smoothly shut with a neat snick, nearly catching his bag. Doubled over, hands grasping on his knees he gasped, feeling like he’d never breathe normally again. Lifting his head he looked out the clear glass windows to the platform. The security guard peered into the train, their eyes connecting, he pointed two fingers at his eyes then out at Mo. Mo flinched, damn.. he’d have to catch the train at a different stop from now on. Either way he was going to keep his job and that’s what mattered he told himself as he made his way toward an empty seat, the train dinging, signaling it’s departure. It jerked forward suddenly taking off, the movement making him lose balance. Throwing out a hand he flailed, wildly reaching for the overhead handrails as he fell back, fingertips just grazing it. “Why me,” flashed briefly through his mind as he goes down ass first into someone’s lap. Apologies are already on his lips when a smooth voice speaks. “Do you fall for everyone or am I special?” the voice queried. Mo is ready to retort with a smart ass reply, but once this stranger and his eyes connect all higher brain function ceases and what comes out is sputtering. Sharp grey eyes set in a sinfully handsome face gaze down at him. Mo felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment. The owner of the voice shifted him, easily lifting and depositing Mo into the seat next to him. Smoothing his slacks, he re-crossed his legs, turning his attention to Mo, an arm slung on the back of his seat. “You know, it’s rude to make someone repeat themselves. I said, are you always this forward with strangers?” “What? Clearly that was an accident,” Mo grit out. He didn’t even bother to keep the annoyed tone out of his voice, despite being in the wrong. The man smirked “Whatever you say, but you can sit in my lap any day.” “Are you some kind of pervert?” Mo challenged. “No just an interested party. I couldn’t help seeing you outrun that guard. Bad boys intrigue me.” “That was… necessary. I couldn’t be late to work.” “And a hard worker! I’m impressed.” “Quit the bullshit.” Mo cut in, rolling his eyes. “So why were you late to work?” He said, voice teasing. “It’s none of your business.” “I’d like to make it my business,” he countered. “I don’t even know you.” “You could, my name is He Tian,” he extended a hand. Mo studied it for a second before offering his own. “Mo.” They rode in silence for a bit, but it was deafening. Mo was taking in all the minute features of He Tian: the bicep pressed to his was muscular, he could feel it even beneath the man’s suit jacket. Each sway of the train making them lean into each other. The shoe dangling off an argyle clad foot was clearly expensive, even Mo could tell by the style. They were subtle design but good taste -much nicer than his boaters, and simple cuffed jeans. He self-consciously tucked his feet beneath the seat. It was not his fault that they only had to dress semi-casual at his job. Eyes drifted along grey tailored slacks, up the man’s thigh to where a hand rested. There’s a ring but it’s snugly on his middle finger, Mo doesn’t want to understand why that revelation makes him feel slightly relieved. He Tian opened his jacket making Mo’s eyes snap up to his. He grinned, “Sorry you just seemed to like what you saw so I wanted to make sure you got the whole outfit.” Mo scowled, turned his head feigning nonchalance. “You dress nice, you a CEO or something.” “COO, Chief Operations Officer” He Tian corrected. “So, you’re some kind of big wig?” “The big wig would be my father, I just manage day to day operations of the company.” “I just manage operations of the company,” Mo mocked “Must be nice.” “Not as nice as you might think,” He Tian remarked softly. The tone drew Mo’s attention, made him really observe him. The man was young but the tell-tale signs of age were already upon him: slight bags under his eyes, a few gray hairs at his temple. Mo didn’t envy him after all. “Well Mo it’s been a pleasure being a part of your morning but,” the train dinged “this is my stop.” He made to stand, the shift making him lean in, eyes trained on Mo’s face drifting down to his lips. Mo’s lips part on a breath, he felt drawn in -could feel his body inching closer. He Tian eyes traveled back up locking with Mo’s. “Until next time?” He rose and pulled out his own day pass, scribbled quickly on the back before slipping it into Mo’s breast pocket. “I think you need this more than me. It’s been a pleasure, see you around.” ‘Yeah yeah’, Mo thought watching him go, retrieving the pass from his pocket he tossed it indifferently to the floor, sat back, looked away.. looked back at it. On second thought, he scooped it up, I need this. Mo arrived at work right on time, slunk to his desk hoping to immerse himself in as much work as possible to stave off the tingling between his legs. Squeezing his knees together he powered on his monitor, desk phone already ringing, fuck that arrogant prick.

On the train ride home he vehemently denied to himself that he looked for He Tian, mind still turning from that morning encounter. At the platform, he used the pass He Tian gave him to exit through the turnstile. Passing a trash bin he made to toss it, but paused when he noticed the writing on the back. “Call me ;).” Written loosely beneath some scribbled digits. ‘Like hell I will’ Mo thought, crumpled it savagely in his palm… then jammed that hand in his coat pocket. 

The first half of the week was spent not looking for He Tian, despite his eyes constantly combing the crowd to and from work. By Wednesday he was pissed because he was no longer in denial but where was that fucker? Not that he really cared or anything, it was just that the commute was boring and having someone to talk to was nice, or at least that was what he told himself.

By Friday he gave up, slumped in his seat, fingers in his coat pocket toying the frayed edge of the pass, the writing now smeared from the oil of his fingers. Sighing he dropped his head back to look out the window, watching the city, bathed in the setting sun slipping by. He’s downright brooding when someone sat next to him feet right up against his, way to close given the spacious seats. “Move your feet back you trash, I was sitting here first,” he fumed, lifting his head. “Yea but I’m sitting here now,” came the steady reply. He Tian. Mo’s head shot up like he’d been burned. “Wha-” “Didn’t think I’d see you again,” He Tian mused. “I guess you are always this moody.” Mo’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t recall asking for your chicken dick opinion.” “Chicken dick,” He Tian mimicked. “What are you a school boy?” “You’re one to talk with your shameless flirting. Don’t you have a wife and kids or something.” He Tian fixed him in a gaze. “What made you think I had any interest in you?” Mo sputtered, he felt hot down to his fingertips. “B-because you started talking to me!” He Tian chuckled, “It’s honestly too easy with you, like pulling pigtails.” He closed the gap between them, a hand falling at the crux of Mo’s thighs. “Of course, I’m interested in you.” Shoving his hand away Mo cast a frantic look around the train, but no one was paying them any attention. “You also didn’t call me,” He Tian continued, replacing his hand. “Why would I call you?” Mo demanded, closing his legs. “I enjoyed our conversation, so I left you my number. I wasn’t lying when I said you intrigued me.” “I don’t even know you,” Mo said through his teeth, crossing his arms. “Besides,” the train dinged “this is me.” Deep down he was disappointed, he’d been looking for He Tian all week and as soon as the man turned up again, obviously interested, he was pushing him away. This was exactly why he was single and probably would be forever, he was terrible at expressing himself, found navigating these situations successfully impossible. As the train slowed to a stop Mo tried to rise from his seat but an arm barred his way. “What are you doing?” He pushed at the arm. “I gotta go, this is my stop.” He Tian bent his arm, elbow knocking Mo back into his seat. “Not today it isn’t,” He Tian said, mouth splitting in a grin. Mo swallowed. Hard.

They got off a few stops later in downtown, nightlife already getting into full swing, fed by the metropolitan buildings that surrounded it. With so much activity Mo found himself slowing his pace to drink in the energy of the surrounding establishments. The sidewalks were packed with people slipping into and stumbling out of the bars and lounges that lined the street. Upbeat music played from speakers mounted outside chic restaurants, intermingled with laughter, shouting and pieced conversations, it’s exciting. He turned, blushing when he sees He Tian leaned up against a storefront watching him in amusement. “Where are we going anyway?” Mo sneered, striding up to He Tian trying to cover for his bright-eyed reaction. “Not far,” he responded politely, “I think you’ll like it.” It wasn’t far; a few more blocks found them in front of an impressive building, one Mo had to crane his neck back to see it’s full height. He allowed himself to be led sheepishly through the elegant lobby, feeling particularly out of place. This place was nice, too nice, more extravagant than any place he’d ever been. He could still leave, it would take He Tian at least a few seconds to notice his absence, but then they were at the elevator and the button had been pressed. They rode the elevator to the 16th floor in silence, a handsy couple in the far corner exuding more foreplay than Mo was comfortable with. He cleared his throat awkwardly, relieved when the doors opened. It was a short walk down the corridor, their steps led by the sound of chattering and music, coming from a chic lounge nestled into an upscale hotel. Inside it the lights were low, save for sweeping spotlights that glided over patrons, illuminating a face here a torso there. To their right was a long bar, absolutely packed. It’s entire back wall glowed, bathing everyone in the immediate area in purple light. Several people stood behind those seated hoping to catch the elusive eye of the bartenders, shouting their drink orders over heads and the upbeat music. The entire left side of the lounge was windows and Mo could just make out a flurry movement beyond them. It peaked his curiosity as he followed He Tian continuing on toward curtained double glass doors leading outside. Stepping out from behind the other man was like stepping into another world entirely. Mo inhaled sharply, playing it off on the sharpness of the sudden cold. A vast patio area spread out before them, its far ends wrapping around the corners of the building. A 180-degree view of city surrounded them. Mo exhaled, taking in the skyscrapers and bustling city, sun just on the cusp of the horizon, scattering the sky with deep blues and oranges. It was breathtaking. “Wow,” Mo murmured. He Tian looked toward him at that, face unreadable save for a twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Uh, after you,” Mo gestured, taking another glance before hurrying after He Tian’s retreating back. Out here the air was electric as a thumping set started from the DJ booth, gearing up for the crowd. The group outside was young and vibrant, most clad in suits and blazers under coats clearly having just stepped out of the office for the day ready to kickoff the weekend. Woven within were a few already in club attire. Short, skin tight dresses layered over tights teeter around on stilettos. Casual shirts with the sleeves rolled, tucked into jeans, clearly here to pre-game for the enticing happy hour before heading out for sharper, if possible, digs. Towards the middle of the space were several couches with  another packed bar sitting behind it on the adjacent wall. He Tian made his way toward it, cutting an easy path through the masses clamoring for drinks. Mo walked in his wake watching the faces of men and women alike turn toward them and morph from irritation to admiration as He Tian bypassed them to the front. The attention of the bartender was caught with little effort, the man sliding up to take their orders. “I’ll have a mojito,” He Tian told him, turning to Mo face expectant. “Uh- rum and coke.” As they waited He Tian shifted his body towards him resting an arm on the bar, making the space more intimate. Mo’s first instinct was to take a step back because He Tian’s presence was overwhelming, but there was a barstool at his back. “What do you think of this place,” He Tian asked, eyes sweeping the area over Mo’s head. Mo cleared his throat. “It’s… nice.” He Tian chuckled. The bartender placed their drinks on the counter, a momentary interruption and He Tian slid him a card in return for the tab. They drifted away from the bar, hanging just off the seating area. Mo sipped at his rum and coke, just to do something with his mouth. The drink was stronger than he usually took it and halfway through he was pleasantly buzzed. “Huh,” he said, then jumped sloshing his drink a bit when he realized He Tian is right there watching him. “I asked if you were cold, we can go back inside if you like.” “I’m fine,” he mumbled into the glass “cold doesn’t really bother me, it’s actually pretty nice.” “I’m a little cold actually but I know what’ll warm me up,” he said placing his empty glass on a nearby table. The area in front of the DJ has gotten dense and he dragged Mo towards it. “Wait,” Mo sputtered, digging in his heels “I can’t dance!” “I’ll teach you,” He Tian’s called over his shoulder winking. Teach was a poor excuse for the reality of the situation as He Tian is pressed way too close to him to truly allow much movement. He swayed his hips in a simple motion that even Mo could keep up with but as the beats swelled and the crowd thickened providing a level of obscurity that was comfortable, Mo felt more confident, the two of them jumping with the crowd as a techno beat plays. By his third drink his hands were wandering, sliding beneath layers to ghost over smooth skin. They were welcomed as He Tian slid said hands up to cross around his neck, pulling him closer, gripping his waist. “I thought you couldn’t dance,” he whispered lips brushing over the curve of Mo’s ear making him shiver. “Did you think that line was smooth?” Mo returned, looking up at him, straight faced. It was He Tian’s turn to look flustered, cheeks lighting up in embarrassment. Mo let him scramble for a second, relished in success at finally turning the tables on him. “Too easy honestly,” he answered winking, loving the confidence of tipsy Mo, encouraging an extended stay. He Tian exhaled. “You know,” he said hands dropping lower “You’re not as uptight as you look.” “And you’re not that big of a prick.”

“So,” Mo said waving a hand for emphasis “let me get this straight. You tell people what to do and they just do it?” “That’s usually how it works,” He Tian laughed as he fished a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He stuck one in his mouth, thumbed his lighter sparking it. He raised an eyebrow at Mo, questioning. “It’s fine,” Mo answered. Tendrils of smoke curl in the silence between them, where they lean pressed against the balcony railing. Muted sounds of the city drifted up to them occasionally. “You don’t smoke?” He Tian asked between puffs breaking the silence. “Never tried.” “Mmm.” Taking a drag he turned, exhaling the smoke toward Mo with precision so it fanned out over his nose and mouth. Mo opened his mouth in protest, but only succeeded in sucking down a lungful. It burned, left him coughing like a rookie. Reaching for his drink, he chugged it, glaring daggers at He Tian as it soothed his throat. “What the hell?! Warn me first.” “Where’s the fun in that?” He Tian smiled, voice playful. They stared each other down, Mo’s lips parting as his tongue darted out to wet them, biting his bottom one when He Tian’s eyes followed the movement. “Do it again.” He Tian raised an eyebrow, but blew smoke directly into Mo’s willing mouth. He handled it better but it was still acrid and bitter, rough on his lungs. It was hard to see the appeal. “So..?” Shaking his head to clear the smoke, he stepped back, sucked greedily at the cold night air to counter the heat in his chest. “Nah, that shit’s gross.” “Try one more time, but like this-“ Looming into his space, he backed them both into the corner where the railing was cut into a vee. He gazed steadily at Mo, cheeks hallowed, chest filling to capacity. A hand grazed Mo’s cheek as his head is tipped up, mouth dropping open in surprise as cold lips brushed over his. The kiss was tentative at first, asking and Mo was eager, inviting because fuck finally. It was a give and take as much as it’s dizzying and intoxicating, He Tian playing him perfectly, guiding. It was like sparks lit where their mouths meet, flowing through his system setting synapses aflame. Mo relaxed into him and he delved deeper, tongue chasing as it curled over and around his, sucking the air from his lungs till it’s too much but he doesn’t want it to end. When they broke apart it was only because of the smoke, expelled in streams as Mo panted for breath. “Better?” He Tian got out, voice tight before Mo yanked him back down. It was fiercer this time hot and possessive, teeth clipping in a way that was juvenile and should be embarrassing but simply turned Mo on even more. Hands cupped his ass pulling their hips flush together, pushing out moans, body reacting before his mind can catch up -but the solid press of He Tian’s cock against him was clear proof he was not the only one affected. “I’ve been wanting to do that since you landed on my dick the other day.” “I told you that, was an accident” Mo countered nipping at his lips. “I wouldn’t mind a re-enactment,” He Tian shrugged. “Tch, you really are a pervert.” “Just me?” he countered, gesturing at Mo’s obvious arousal straining against his jeans. “…maybe you can help me out,” Mo said slowly. Was he really considering this? Wait was that even a question? “My apartment is not too far but no pressure. I enjoyed tonight even if it ends here. …I would like to see you again though.” He Tian looked nervous, it was laughable. All that confidence and power he radiated yet here he was acting as if he slipped Mo a note that said “Do you like me? Yes, No, Maybe.” Mo grimaced eyebrows raised. He reached beyond the man to fish inside his empty glass, and pulled out the sprig of mint. “Damn.” “W-what happened?” He Tian asked, slight waver in his voice. “Mistletoe.” Mo winked twirling the sprig between his fingers. He placed it on his tongue, eyes centered on that sharp curve of a mouth. He Tian’s lips were cold but soft, Mo took his time leaving chaste kisses before pushing further. Mint mixing with smooth smokiness as his tongue flicked out, tasting, hands reaching for purchase to tangle them in dark locks. “Call the cab.” Mo murmured.

If you’ve never had to run to catch public transportation before I envy you. Pro Tip: Leave early so you don’t have to be stressed. Also, I should take my own advice 😂

Well, th-th-th-that’s all folks! I really enjoyed this week celebrating one of my absolute fave OTP’s and thank you to everyone that read/gave feedback on my stuff, you’re all lovely people and I adore this fandom<3

Most importantly thank you to the amazing @fujoshi-gal who beta’d my works and had to be subjected to reading my stuff not just once but several times lol. You’re the real MVP and honestly I know I wouldn’t have written so much without all your encouragement and honest feedback. I never thought I’d enjoy checking my email so much either lmao. You notes and comments always brighten my day. If you ever need a beta hit her up, she is amazinggg.