#deleted fic scene

[cheshire-wink]

deleted scene from A Heart Undying, explaining why A-Yuan uses the terms he does for the Wen siblings. I wasn't able to find a satisfying way to incorporate it so it's incomplete and unedited. It took place when A-Yuan was about 5, after he was adopted by WWX & LWJ.

It was a joke, really. Nothing that Wei Wuxian hadn't joked about before. But Wen Qing shouldn't have said it. But Wei Wuxian had been teasing Lan Wangji again, spouting nonsense about being his wife, and having his babies. And she was distracted and hadn't realized A-Yuan had come looking for his parents. "I'm surprised you want more, after the pain of giving birth to A-Yuan." Wei Wuxian hadn't missed a second, "Oh, but Qing-jie, my little radish needs siblings! What's a little pain?" Wen Qing looked up to give him a disapproving look and saw A-Yuan standing, frozen in the doorway, staring at Wei Wuxian with wide eyes that were rapidly filling with tears. "A-Yuan?" She stood quickly. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji both turned toward the door, suddenly tense. Wei Wuxian was beside his son in an flash, "Hey, hey, what's wrong?" A-Yuan sniffed, tears beginning to roll down his face, "I hurt Mama?" Wei Wuxian froze, confused. Wen Qing blinked and then pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh. A-Yuan threw himself at Wei Wuxian, wrapping his arms around Wei Wuxian's neck and sobbing into his shoulder, "I'm sorry, Mama!" "Uh…here, what's this 'mama' business?" Wei Wuxian asked with a confused laugh. A-Yuan sniffed wetly, "A-niang is Mama. Granny said Mamas have the babies, and Mama says he had me. But I hurt Mama!" He started wailing again. Wei Wuxian looked helplessly at Wen Qing. She crossed her arms and gave him an unimpressed look, "You made your bed, you can lie in it." Wei Wuxian sighed and pouted up at Lan Wangji, who decided to have mercy on his husband and came over the kneel beside him and place a hand on A-Yuan's back. "A-Yuan, your a-niang is fine." Wei Wuxian let out a strangled sound. Lan Wangji continued, "You have done nothing to hurt him. And he would love you no less if you had." "That's right," Wei Wuxian agreed, "I'll always love my little raddish." Eventually A-Yuan calmed, and soon fell asleep from the emotional exhaustion, still clinging to Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian hoped that would be the last of it, but Wen Qing was unsurprised when the following day A-Yuan referred to Wei Wuxian as "Mama" while recounting something that he had seen happen early in the day. "Hmm? You mean your Baba?" A-Yuan tipped his head to the side, adorably, and replied "No. Mama! A-Die was out with Ning-jiu." Wen Qing's hands froze. She carefully set her tools down and turned to face the boy. "A-Yuan. When you talk about your Mama, do you mean Wei Wuxian?" The boy nodded happily. "Ah. And your Ning-jiu…that is my brother?" "Of course!" "Why is he your jiu, and not your shu?" Wen Yuan beamed at her, "You're Mama's jiejie!" Ah. Of course. Wen Qing nodded and made a mental note to discuss this further with Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji.

A-Yuan was eventually convinced to go back to referring to Wei Wuxian as Baba, but when it was just family he still occasionally referred to Wei Wuxian as Mama or A-Niang, and always referred to Wen Qing and Wen Ning as his mother's siblings.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Part 2/2

By the time Stanley had realized he wasn't as alone as he believed himself to be entrapped in this ravenous abyss; he had honestly begun to suspect that he was finally starting to properly lose his mind.

In all the ceaseless miles that Stanley had journeyed during his apparent permanent residence within the dark devouring void, not once had he encountered another conscious, walking, talking being similar to himself. Every other formerly living creature that he had crossed paths with had been so... silent. Empty. Dead, in every sense of the word. It was as though the very essence of life itself had been sucked out of their bodies with a straw, their forms slowly falling apart piece by piece under the vicious gluttony of the darkness that surrounded them. They looked like they actually were supposed to be there, unmoving and comatose, unlike him.

So, when Stanley first began to encounter the twins, all of a sudden, he wasn't the only one in the dark.

When meeting the first pair of them, he found himself standing in a lake.

He hadn't even noticed the changes at first. It felt as though he had been walking for weeks on end, his body moving purely on autopilot and his aching legs leading him towards a destination only it knew. A thick fog of forgetfulness and flickering memories had descended upon his brain like a heavy blanket of numbing static as he had traveled. In this absentminded state, he hadn't even realized that the ever-present undulating, buzzing darkness surrounding him had begun to gradually shift and morph to form a horizon line; stretching into tall looming cliffsides that almost seemed to close in on him. Once the nonexistent floor beneath his soles abruptly began to ripple and warp, like the disturbed surface of a shallow puddle; only then did he finally notice his transformed environment.

The transition was seamless, almost dream-like. One moment, he was still surrounded by that filthy, overwhelming abyss; and the next, his boots were suddenly plunged deep into the cold, dark lake water.

The silence didn't leave, however. It still choked and stuffed its way into Stanley's ears to clog up his mind with thick cotton; the eerie quiet not quite matching the calm, almost serene scenery the void seemed to have abruptly transformed itself into. Like a movie with its sound cut off; leaving only the unsettling hum of the projector to fill the empty air.

It was odd. The lake was surely incredibly deep. He could obviously tell from how thin and pathetically small the shores appeared all the way from where he now unceremoniously stood in the middle of the lake. Stan could look down and see the darkness below his feet swallow what meager light that managed to break through the murky waters. The overwhelming black almost seemed to beckon him, gaping and haunting; a bottomless underwater pit of pitch black that never seemed to end.

And yet, he didn't sink. Stanley remained perfectly level, the almost ink like waters stopping just at ankle level, as though he were held up just above the surface by some invisible force. Even the writhing waves seemed small and low, as though the waters were shy to climb up his legs further than that. It was odd, so very odd.

However, it wasn't nowhere near as odd as the sight that greeted him when he finally lifted his eyes from the waters.

Stanley had crossed paths with truly unbelievable sights in this strange somewhere; from bursting, collapsing stars; to the imploding heat death of entire universes, but none of them seemed to hold the candle to what he saw then when he lifted his eyes:

Children.

Two, to be exact. Two, nearly identical looking children stood motionless before him; completely soaked through to the bone as though they had taken a plunge into the frigid water that pooled around their ankles. It was a girl and a boy, both adorned with twin expressions utterly devoid of emotion, their wide eyed stare seeming to burn holes into his thin jacket. Their drenched clothes sagged off of their scrawny frames; thin rivulets of water dirpping off of them and disturbing the glassy surface of the water at their feet. The little girl's hair had messily stuck to her face in thin sodden strands, her cheeks still full and round with youth just like the boy's. They looked young. Too young to be in a place such as this.

Oh, but their eyes; their eyes.

They burned with such anger; such injustice, brighter than any dying star or galaxies he had ever seen. Anger towards the world, to fate, to whatever cruel deity that had deemed them fit to be sent to this wretched place so prematurely. They were too young to be here; to be entrapped like he was amongst this hungry darkness. And yet, here they were, sheer denial against their own untimely deaths being the only thing keeping them awake and conscious amongst the dead and rotting. A show of juvenile defiance to nature itself so vehement even the all-consumign darkness seemed hesitant to devour them whole just yet.

It saddened him. It saddened him to know that they belonged there, that they were supposed to be there. He could see it, he could feel it; they were dead. No amount of determination could deny that universal fact.

When they spoke, Stanley could hear anger:

Stan chuckled in a futile attempt to lighten the suddenly heavy atmosphere that threatened to crush him whole. "A lake monster? You kids and your imagination," he teased, hoping to somehow rid the poor kids of the haunted look that seemed to whirl in their glares. No child should have been burdened with such a knowing look; such eyes that looked like they had seen everything there was to see about the world, the horrid and the good.

Clearly, it had been the wrong thing to say, and Stanley's faux pas was rewarded with a scowl from the little boy. A world's worth of sour contempt etched into every contorted groove that his grimace seemed to dig into his much too young face. Stan suddenly felt guilt squeeze at his weary bones for having caused that.

"That's what they all said," the boy spat out, eyes shining with a sheen of wetness Stan wasn't sure he was prepared to deal with.

Stan left that first interaction with the twins with the feeling of guilt and sorrow still clining to him.

He couldn't have known, at the time. He couldn't have known that this wouldn't be anywhere near the last time that he would meet the pair. He hadn't realised just how many of them there were. After that first pair, his endless journeying within the Abyss was hardly be spent alone anymore. Countless more times, he came face to face with the exact same two young and impossibly worn faces; forced to meet one pair of beaten and bruised kids after another.

Not one pair had died the same death as another. Some had gotten lost, prey to whatever threat that had snatched them up out in the open; some had fallen from high up; some had been crushed under an incredible weight; some had burned; some eaten alive; some zombified. Some didn't even seem physically harmed at all, body perfectly intact, and yet that same faraway, distrubed look in their eyes remained.

He thought the worst ones were the ones he found alone. A little girl or a little boy, left all lonesome without their other half there. Twins, he remembered a pair of them telling him once.

Once, he had come across a town full of silent, stone statues. It was a rustic, shabby, almost nostalgic looking town- odd and strangely familiar. The sight of it had tugged at an aged memory that had long since wasted away in the back of his mind. It was serene, almost deceptively so. The sun shone; the air smelled crisp and fresh; numerous waterfalls continued to crash down from the tall cliffsides; and a soft nonexistent breeze whistled through the thicket of pine trees that blanketed the outskirts of the town. None of it seemed to match the gruesome scene of the hundred wailing statues that littered every inch of the town.

He had found the boy's statue on the other side of town, deep within the green forest and toppled over the gnarled roots of a towering tree. Like the rest of the townsfolk, he too, was frozen mid-shriek; his stone face twisted and contorted into a mock impression of a silent scream as his body lay paused in a writhing struggle. He made sure to be gentle when he carried the boy's statue over to place it beside the girl's, whose statue stood far deeper into the forest, sporting the same rictus grimace of terror as her brother's. It somehow felt wrong for them to have been so far apart from one another, even in death.

He had come to dread meeting of the twins. He hated every second he had to confront yet another pair of dead children that did not belong here, but fate had decided they did. He despised having to listen to their tales of woe as they wept about the injustice of the world, of having died young; he despised himself for being unable to do more than weep with them.

"We don't belong here, Grunkle Stan," he would listen to the little girl weep, calling him a title he didn't recognize. He never remembered if they had ever told him their name, but they all seem to know his, without a fail. "If we're dead, then what about you? What about Grunkle Ford? Mom? Dad? What about them? We can't be dead, we can't be," they would say, confusion and frustration written all over their faces. They didn't understand. They didn't understand why they had come to the darkness so early, so unfairly.

He never knew what to say, he'd never been good with words.

All he could do was kneel down to their levels and engulf them in his arms, hoping he could somehow squeeze the pain straight out of their bodies in his embrace. He hugged them, because what else could he do?

[justaz]

that one deleted scene where merlin compliments percival and arthur takes him down, then merlin compliments gwaine and arthur takes him down, the merlin insinuates they’re letting him win so arthur challenges elyan and wins. merlin laughs after arthur stomps away and then lancelot comes over to chide him and complain and merlin laughs and says that arthur is just so predictable. out of the corner of his eye he can see the king returning so he flutters his eyelashes and places his hands on lancelot’s arms to squeeze his muscles and goes “and you’re all big, strong men. i’m sure you can take it” lancelot stares, confused, but can’t say anything before arthur plows right through them and grabs a weapon before dragging lancelot onto the field with him. lancelot turns to look over his shoulder with a betrayed look and merlin just waves back with a grin. arthur wins. leon sighs tiredly from beside merlin, scaring him bc he didn’t see the knight make his way over to him. leon doesn’t say anything but just gives merlin his Disappointed Mom stare and merlin mutters an apology

[nenoname]

hunting down a specific image but finding miscellaneous storyboards/some cut panels from the stan comic story instead

[dapper-lil-arts]

You try to do a favor for a friend, but

[stervrucht]

Wayne doesn’t come into his room. 

It’s something they established early on — by Wayne’s suggestion — and Eddie appreciates it, that Wayne respects him like that when he doesn’t really have to.

It doesn’t stop Wayne from giving Eddie knowing looks when Steve emerges from there several mornings a week.

“It’s like I’m payin’ for two kids,” he complains over his morning coffee, but there’s no bite to it. 

Eddie thinks it’s because Steve’s a good guy — he helps out, cooks, is pleasant in conversation, and honestly, he has changed Eddie for the better. 

He’s sure Wayne can see it too.

Still, Eddie finds it incredible that that’s Wayne’s only concern with the situation.

[sorryimananti-romantic]

saurrr what do we need to do to get that deleted scene??? 👀🤲🏼

beg.

LJHDFJGHKJ KIDDING you asked and i shall serve with not only the deleted scene but two bonus scenes:

from the fic guerrilla (serialkiller!dr.yunho x writer!reader)

wc: 4k

notes: surgeon yunho who just so happens to be a serial killer (a vigilante with morals if you must), reader is a writer working on gory crime fiction novels, they are housemates, fluffy stuff, talks about therapy, questionable morals, honestly very questionable morals, smut at the end (minors and anyone not comfortable with dark themes do not interact with the third section

"oh, you're home. almost didn't hear you," you said when you spotted yunho coming down the stairs. in the past few months, you had learned quite a few habits of his, one being that he could be as silent as a feather at times.

which was a bit scary, but you supposed it was just a natural skill of his.

"of course you didn't. you were humming something while you cooked," yunho stood near the counter, looking around and you muttered a silent curse- no wonder you didn't hear him. "need help?"

"yeah, if you could just set the table," you said and yunho obeyed instantly, taking out the utensils and scooping the dishes while you told him about your day- mail arrived, you befriended a stray cat that has now found home in your backyard, you went shopping for grocery today and got the stuff yunho had requested you to buy for him.

and while you ate, yunho said his thanks for saving him a trip to the grocery store and told you about his day- he went to assist a professor from his previous job in a complicated surgery upon his request. you told him he looked fond of that professor and he admitted that he owed most of his surgery skills to him and he often called him to assist him.

and just like that, you finished your meals and you started clearing the kitchen and washing the dishes while he went to the backyard to bring the laundry inside. it was the weekend and you wondered if yunho would join you in the living room just to hang out or watch something. or would he be too tired and just say goodnight and leave?

he stayed. he slumped down on the couch and took out his phone, probably responding to texts. you silently joined on the other end and turned on your laptop which opened to your document and reminded you of the question that had been looming over your head the entire day. you glanced at yunho but he seemed absorbed in his phone and you sighed- maybe you'll just ask him tomorrow-

"is something the matter?"

he didn't have to be that observant. you straightened. "nothing. just wanted to ask you something related to the book- but it can wait."

"you can ask me, y/n."

"you seem busy and tired, though..." your voice faltered when he shot you with a challenging look.

"never too busy for your weird questions."

"oh," you laughed a little and when he set his phone aside to focus on you, you stifled a satisfactory smile. "okay, so remember what i told you last time? the cop who's also a criminal, he's targeting the main character- the detective now. he finally baits her into entering the abandoned warehouse where she thought she would find some druggies."

"yes, and the warehouse doesn't have much space to run because of the abundance of shelves so when she's looking around, she keeps thinking she's hearing something- which is actually the criminal riling her up and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike."

"yes," you smiled. "now, he's going to attack, and another unfortunate cop who accompanied our detective is going to get killed by him while trying to protect the detective. so that gets the detective all messed up in her head and she's lost her gun but there's a dagger lying on the floor- remember the dagger i showed you for reference?"

yunho nodded and you continued. "the detective aims to hurt the criminal, not kill, but the lines must be blurred so when she is questioned about her motives, she wonders if she actually intended to kill the man."

"because there's the fact that the criminal is her colleague and that could have worsened her anger. she might have actually wanted to kill him," yunho recalls.

"exactly," you shift in your position so your legs are tucked under you. "now... where would the detective stab him? self defense, anger, confusion, all these elements."

yunho hummed in thought, his eyes running all over your body. something you had noticed that whenever he answered one of your questions, he would envision them on you. that might have made you a flustered mess in the beginning when his eyes would fixate on a spot on your body but it didn't really bother you anymore- you supposed as a surgeon, he got lost in vivid imagination or something.

"there's quite a few ways we could achieve that, but i think if you can narrow it down, it might help."

"somewhere near the heart? throat? something that would disarm the criminal immediately," you said.

yunho nodded slowly, his eyes fixated on your neck now and you subconciously adjusted your shirt. he finally met your eyes. "i think this spot might do the trick."

yunho fisted his hand but outstretched the index finger. "suppose this is the tip of your dagger, right? you would want to stab right here," he turned his hand to touch the space between his collarbones. "this spot is tricky because for males and females, it's not the same."

"oh?" you touched that same spot on yourself. "how so?"

"males usually have a thicker clavicle," yunho explained, stretching the collar of his shirt to expose his collarbones. "the gap between the two may be wider but it's definitely easier to stab a man here than a woman."

you touched your own collarbones for reference in confusion and when yunho had enough of your struggling, he scooted closer and touched the space between your collarbones with his finger. "this part. v-shaped, right? it's a bit straighter for men. so if your criminal was a woman, i'd have you stab them... right here," yunho trailed his finger up and dug it in that spot. you nodded. "the clavicle is a bit narrower in females too," he trailed his finger along your collarbones. "and positioned at a more diagonal angle-"

he didn't realise when he started rambling but when he met your eyes, he found them wider than usual and your lips parted, and only then did he realise the proximity between you two. you gulped and he felt that movement on his finger still situated on your skin and his own lips parted in surprise, his mind going black when your gaze fell down there.

and if that damned phone hadn't buzzed repeatedly, he would have done something about you. he definitely would have, ignoring all his strict rules, because there was no way you didn't feel a certain way about him. he was sure you did, especially now. especially when he drew back to check his phone and heard you let out a deep breath. you had been holding your breath all this time.

"i, uh... i have to take this call," he pursed his lips.

"of course," you nodded.

"i hope that cleared your confusion?" yunho dared to ask and when you stifled a smirk, he got his answer.

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

[bonus scene that takes place after the big revelation]

it's been a long time since you woke up feeling like there was a weight on your chest, unable to breathe properly, hair matted to your face and your head spinning.

a nightmare. no-

a memory.

you checked the time- it was almost 4. you shook your head- maybe you should have pushed yourself to stay awake until you passed out so you could have a dreamless sleep. you always slept better when you were tired- not the healthiest habit, but that was how you overcame your sleeping struggles as a teen when your father passed away.

would you have to do this all over again?

you managed to walk to the toilet to wash your face, staring at the sink for the longest time and letting the water run through your hands as if it could wash away the weight of what you had done before finally snapping out of it and turning the tap off, exiting the toilet to go to the kitchen. you took a deep breath and sat yourself on a stool in the kitchen, taking small sips from your glass.

you could not go back to sleep now. not anytime soon.

you briefly wondered when yunho got home- was he home yet? lately, you had been going to sleep at odd times so you didn't run into him much, but you couldn't sleep for long- you would always wake up, just like you did tonight. the nightmares were plaguing your rest hours-

the glass slipped from your hand and crashed on the floor loudly, making you squeal a little. you winced at how loud it sounded in the dead hours of the night and you tried to find a spot on the floor that was not covered with shards- how exactly were you going to put your feet on the floor with all the glass around you-

"y/n? is everything okay?"

you sighed internally. "did i wake you up? i'm sorry, the glass just slipped."

yunho turned on a light and surveyed the mess. "stay right there, okay? don't move- i'll get the broom."

you nodded and waited until he started cleaning the shards from around you, making sure he got everything and then running to your room quickly to get your slippers. you thanked him, taking the broom and dustpan from him this time, spotting a tiny shard at the other end of the kitchen.

"were you asleep? did i wake you up?"

"i got home like, an hour ago," yunho said. "was just scrolling a bit. are you okay, though? you look pale."

"yeah, i'm okay," you put the broom in a corner and washed your hands. when you dried them and turned, you noticed yunho watching you intently. "what?"

"did you have a nightmare or something?"

he always knew. somehow, he always saw through you.

"is it that obvious?" you let out a short laugh. "do i look like a mess?"

"i mean..." yunho stifled a smile. "you usually do look like a hot mess..."

"lovely to hear that," you nodded and he grinned, stepping forward and encasing you in his arms as he peered down at you.

"won't you talk to me about it?"

"what's there to talk about?" you cocked your head and yunho's heart sank a little at the way your eyes went blank. "i killed a man, yunho. again. of course i will have to live with the consequences now."

yunho licked his dry lips and he knew you had zoned out at the way your gaze was fixated on his face. "can i ask you something?"

it took you a moment to come back to your senses and nod. yunho took a deep breath. "do you regret killing the man who almost killed your father?"

"everything went wrong after i did that-"

"but if you could go back in time, would you change that?" yunho asked.

"no." you were sure you would make the same decision. "because if i had not done that, he would have killed all of us."

"so... do you regret killing the man from a few days ago?"

"not at all," your response was quick. "he was going to kill you. i would have done the same, no matter who it was."

yunho brought his hand to your cheek and caressed it, his eyes full of love. you continued, "but that doesn't change the fact that i have killed people."

"i know," yunho said. "you will have to live with that for the rest of your life. it won't get easier, it will always hang like a noose over your head. but if you keep all of this to yourself... it will only get harder, y/n."

"i just... i don't know what to do," you exhaled a deep breath, looking away. "i feel so helpless. you've done so much to help me, hell, you almost took the blame for it, but still..."

"all these feelings are normal," yunho took your hand and started guiding you to the couch in the living room. you both settled down close to each other with yunho's hand on your shoulder, his thumb caressing your neck. "but if it's troubling you to the point of nightmares... why didn't you tell me earlier, y/n? if there's anyone who can relate to you..."

"it's you, i know," you smiled a little. "and i'm okay, for the most part, but for a while that night, i really thought it was all over, and that scared me so much, yunho."

"it's okay-"

"it's not the remorse that's eating me up, see?" you let out a short laugh. "it's... the fact that it's not the remorse eating me up but my selfishness when i was scared that you were going to take the blame and i would have to pick up the pieces of what was left all by myself. that your friends would hate me for the rest of our lives. that you would rot away in prison, like my father did, and i would never get to touch you again. it's wrong, isn't it? that this is the product of my nightmares and i don't need to sleep to feel this? does this make me a monster, yunho?"

if yunho could tell you how he felt at that moment, perhaps you would cower away, but he just had to ask you something. "do you still think you're the monster when i'm right in front of you?"

you looked at his unbelievably soft gaze and furrowed, somewhat confused brows. the dim lights from the kitchen softened half of his face, but even the shadows on his face didn't change who he was. you found his hand on your neck and held it, pressing your lips against his palm.

"i have killed more people than i can count, y/n," yunho continued, his voice pained. "but if that means that the world is somehow safer, i will continue down this road no matter how weary i get. does that make me a bad person or a good person? i realised long ago that i needed to stop categorising myself into one category, however... i sure as hell wouldn't call myself a good person," he let out a short laugh and you shook your head.

"if you weren't a good person, you wouldn't have tried to take the blame for me that night. and on that note... what were you thinking when you did that? without hesitation? can you imagine how wrong it could have gone if you got caught at that time-"

yunho leaned in and captured your lips in a deep kiss and thought it took you by surprise initially, you quickly melted in his grasp, your heart fluttering uncontrollably at the way he held and kissed you. when he drew back, he lingered for a few moments before looking at you.

"i would have done that anyway, no matter the consequences," he told you and you smiled sadly. "for you... i would do it again. so will you listen to me? will you let me help you?"

you nodded and he pulled you in for a hug. you scooted closer, almost sitting in his lap as you wrapped your arms around his waist, fisting the material of his sweatshirt.

"i know how hard it is to live with what we have done, no matter how we feel about it or think we feel about it," he caressed your head. "we think we have it all figured out. we think we'll be okay but really... it's still a human life, isn't it?"

you nodded- he was absolutely right.

"i harboured so much negativity in myself when my parents were killed. i thought if i would face their killer, i would not hesitate to kill him, but i did, and it cost me my sanity for a good while. if it weren't for hongjoong and mingi helping me figure out everything that was going on... i would have been so lost. i still think i am- the twisted, monstrous part in me is okay with what i do-"

"please don't call yourself a monster," you whispered. "you're anything but."

yunho embraced you tighter. "thank you for believing in me, but you should also tell yourself that."

and that's when it all made sense, what yunho was trying to tell you. it wasn't okay, it probably never will be, and it never should be. that's what you have to live with, and that's what will ultimately differentiate you from the actual monsters in this world.

"how do i convince myself i'm not the same as them?"

"that's what i'm here for," yunho laughed and you joined, drawing away from him. "but actually... i have a suggestion for you."

and that's how he told you all about mingi, the psychiatrist and the therapist who would never judge you no matter how dark your deepest thoughts and desires were. the person who would be able to understand your situation better than anyone else in this world since he was also a part of what yunho did. and most importantly, the person who wouldn't convince you to be someone you weren't. someone who wouldn't put you high on a pedestal or push you to your lowest. you adored the look on yunho's face when he told you all about his friend and you thought that mingi must be an admirable person if yunho believed in him so much.

and that night, he made a vow to you- he would always be there for you. he would be there to help you with the nightmares because he wished someone was there for him too. he would make sure you get proper sleep, and how couldn't you, if you were in his arms, safe and secure? how couldn't you, if you were showered in kisses before you fell asleep? how couldn't you, if you were enveloped in his scent that felt like home now?

the nightmares wouldn't easily stop but at least you wouldn't feel alone now, and that was all that mattered.

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

[something romantic but unhinged bc man now that i'm writing guerrilla again i wish i made it even longer LMAO]

[mdni!] [and do not interact if you're not comfortable with dark themes]

"yunho, what if your dark fantasies take over while we're having a moment and you kill me or something?"

yunho almost choked on the last sips of hot chocolate you had made him and he put the cup down on the table before shutting his eyes, inhaling and then opening them to glare at you.

"what stupid book are you reading now, babe?"

you pursed your lips in guilty admission. "you don't need to know that."

it had been a good few months into your relationship with yunho now, and he knew to expect odd questions like these way before that. when you first moved in, the questions had been related to your crime fiction wip but now that you were comfortable with him...

too comfortable, he thought. you couldn't ask something like this while you were seated so casually, defenceless across the couch with your legs in his lap while you used your tablet probably to edit your current draft.

"but do you think it happens? do you have moments like those when you... you know."

"when i what?" yunho smirked. he could play this game.

you immediately knew the mood had changed when his eyes glinted playfully. one thing about yunho was that no matter how strange or ridiculous your questions were, he would always answer.

"i won't judge you, i promise," you laughed a little. "but do you ever want to? or do you think others do?"

"words. i need you to say it out loud," yunho sat back cockily while his hand rested on your thigh, squeezing it almost suggestively.

and you knew it could only go one way from here. one thing about yunho was that no matter how strange or ridiculous your questions were, he would always answer-

practically. whenever he could, practically.

"if you're about to see if you feel like killing me right now, no thanks. and for your information, i can fight back."

"can you?" yunho scoffed.

"i've killed two men."

yunho laughed mockingly at that. "two. such a cute number."

your heart sank at that but you tried to lighten the situation. "okay, yeah, i should probably stop reading stupid books-"

"do you want me to check and see, though?" yunho cocked his head dangerously, removing his hand from your thigh only to hold your hand and pull you closer.

"geez, you really take answering my questions so seriously," you teased. of course he would never hurt you, but the thought of where this could lead to excited you in too many ways and you internally slapped yourself. "i guess i'll find the answer if i live to tell the tale?"

yunho pulled you properly in his lap, one hand stationed across your legs to keep you close to him while the other hand stayed on your neck, his thumb caresseing your adam's apple. you loved putting yunho in this headspace, when his gaze darkened as he thought about all the ways he would mess with you.

"do you know how easy it is to take someone's life if you press this wrong?" yunho pushed your adam's apple with his thumb just a fraction. "even just a little pressure can make it difficult to breathe."

you twisted away from him to put your tablet away and then put your own hand on his neck to feel his adam's apple. you pressed it a little just like he had demonstrated and nodded in understanding.

"it's ironic then, isn't it?" yunho looked up at you. "that some of the most sensitive spots on a human are around there?"

before you could ask him to elaborate, he pulled you closer to kiss you on the side of your neck and you gasped when you realised where this was going. he didn't stop there, though, no. he flipped you effortlessly so your back was flat on the couch and he was on top of you. before you could process anything, he was back to peppering kisses along your neck, planting a rather long one right on your adam's apple before finding your sweet spot and continuing to kiss and suck there.

your back arched in pleasure when one of his hands went to hold your waist but found your bare skin instead, your shirt having ridden up. you squirmed under him, one hand at the nape of his neck. when he was satisfied after earning a loud moan from you, he drew back to admire the bruising mark on your neck.

and then he grinned at your breathless form.

"that was so out of the blue," you laughed.

"i'm nowhere near done though," yunho kissed your temple, trailing his lips down along the angles of your face and then kissing your jaw sweetly. you brought your limp arm up to fist his shirt and crash your lips on his because he should stop teasing you already. yunho smiled into the kiss before responding enthusiastically and you tasted chocolate on his lips which made you hum in satisfaction.

yunho took that as his cue to escalate things further. while he kissed you, he let his hand travel down your body until it reached the waistband of your shorts. he broke the kiss to look at you and make sure you were okay and when you nodded, he pulled them down a bit to slide his hand down and he looked at you in surprise.

"you're soaking wet," he laughed a little. "tell me, which part turned you on?"

you slapped his hand and he laughed louder, pecking your lips and drawing away to lock eyes with you just in time to see your reaction when he slid a finger along your slit. he captured your gasp in another kiss and soon, things got all heated up. the sound of your moans were swallowed in his kisses as he slid two fingers knuckle-deep inside you and started thrusting them, curling them inside to earn loud gasps from you.

"so responsive," he praised, trailing kisses down your neck again and finding another spot to suck at. it was good that you mostly stayed at home, you thought. he had a thing with marking you and you could only imagine how much a hassle it would have been to cover it on a daily basis.

"yunho," you gasped when his thumb started circling your clit. it hadn't even been that long that you started getting more physical but he sure knew all your buttons. "please."

"please what?" he breathed against your adam's apple, reminding you once again how this all started.

"i'm so close," you moaned.

"already?" he tsk-ed, kissing the protruding spot on your neck. "how badly do you want it?"

you cupped his face and kissed him in answer, your tongues colliding in the passionate makeout which only sent another wave of arousal through your body and you shivered against him. he knew you were close so he drew apart and made you rest your head against the cushion again.

"you asked me about my dark fantasies, right?" yunho almost whispered and you nodded, anticipating what was next. "not the darkest fantasy, but a good start- choking."

you frowned- choking was pretty common... no?

"there's a very subtle difference in choking for pain and choking for pleasure," yunho explained, his hand around your neck now, his other hand still rubbing your clit in circles, his fingers pumping inside you slowly. "and sure, choking is common, but sweetheart..."

yunho pressed the sides of your throat for a second experimentally and you gasped. "feel that? see how everything you feel inside you becomes heightened but your senses grow numb?"

"yeah," you breathed, squirming under him- you were almost there. "pleasure."

"and if i pressed like this," he said, gently squeezing from the front- so gently that you almost didn't feel anything. "it would be to kill you. how faint is the line between pain and pleasure, y/n?"

you didn't realise when yunho sped up his fingers thrusting inside you but you were almost out of breath now and when he flicked your clit and provided the friction it needed to get over the edge, right when you could feel your orgasm beginning to wash over you, he leaned in to whisper in your ear-

"do you think i have dark fantasies like that?"

and you almost wouldn't have heard him because he pressed the sides of your throat, choking you right as your orgasm washed over you and your vision darkened, your back arching against him. everything was so heightened- yunho on top of you, his fingers inside you, his hand palming your clit, the other hand squeezing your throat like a choker necklace, his lips on your temple in a kiss, his thighs caging you, but the most heightened of all-

his question, the itch in your brain yet to be scratched. it clouded your thoughts as you took deep breaths to recover from the orgasm, as he kissed you everywhere and drew back to clean his fingers with tissues.

"so..." you breathed. "you won't be answering that, will you?"

he only smirked. "answering it would kill all the fun."

[eywaseclipse]

Friendly reminder that we were robbed

[alchemistc]

So about that deleted scene:

(shovel) talks - read on ao3

"So how many shovel talks should I be expecting?" Tommy asks, once the cake is mostly gone and Eddie and Christopher have wandered off. He tilts his voice low, so as not to draw the attention of Eddie's aunt, who has been eyeing him closely since he came back without any cake for Evan.

"Shovel what?" Evan's eyeing the cake.

"You could just have a bite," Tommy tempts, letting his grin go a little teasing, waving his fork a bit for emphasis, and Evan sighs. Pats his stomach, which Tommy is intimately familiar with, and very fond of, even if Evan wants to be a bit more cut.

"You're trying to deflect. Who gave you a shovel talk?"

"So far?" There's no reason to keep it going, really, except when Evan gets exasperated he huffs and puffs about it and Tommy - he doesn't not like his little attempts at dramatics.

Evan rolls his whole head in an effort to emphasize how much he's not in the mood, but his smile gives him away. It always does.

"Well, Hen and Karen just accosted me. Christopher's already promised anatomically improbable harm."

Evan, if anything, looks a little chuffed about that. Considering some of the things he's gleaned about his home life growing up, it's not all that strange.

Still, it doesn't hurt to ask. "They do know you're an adult, right?"

"Y-yeah, of course they know. It's - you know, that whole family thing you were so jealous of sometimes includes them being a little overbearing."

"Personally, I think they were just looking for some gossip."

Evan's face goes red. "Uh - that might be - that might be my fault. I'm... usually an over sharer."

"Is there something wrong with what I'm doing that you don't feel like over sharing?" It's a dirty ploy, but he's already over invested in this, in them. He wants to weasel a bit of praise out of Evan, even though he hasn't exactly been shy about it to this point at all.

Evan's face does something - a series of tiny expressions he'd have been hard pressed to catch if he weren't staring so closely - before he kicks at Tommy's foot under the table. "You're teasing me again."

Tommy doesn't hide his grin, even as he shovels his fork around the plate to get the last of the frosting off. "Can you blame me?"

Evan's blush is deep deep pink, but he still bites his tongue, tilts his head, tips his foot so that he can slide his toes around Tommy's ankle. He really, really wasn't kidding when he joked that he was trying his best to keep up.

He taps two knuckles against the table, looking like he's physically restraining himself from reaching for Tommy's hand. "It's - it's not like I don't talk about you. I just - some of it I wanna keep for myself."

Tommy fields fifty questions a day at work about the man who has him smiling to himself randomly, checking his phone and losing track of conversations because something ticks at a newly made memory of Evan Buckley. He understands the urge to keep some of those memories for himself.

"So what have you told them?"

He's picking at the thread, trying to unravel it, and he doesn't know why. He's more than satisfied with the state of things as they are now. Things are... different than he's used to, this early in. He's never been with someone so intent on getting to know him, spending time with him, so ready to share himself. It's intoxicating, really, and Tommy's never had a great handle on when to cut himself off.

Evan's expression is overly fond, and Tommy feels the thrill of it down to his toes.

"I told them about our date at the aquarium," he says, eyes sparkling a little. It had been a spur of the moment thing, Evan texting him for three days straight about hammerhead sharks, Frederickson mentioning his son-in-laws obsession with manta rays and the glass-side dinner they offered Saturday's and Sunday's. Evan's eyes drifting to the creatures in the water only half-as-often as they drifted to Tommy, and the air expanding in Tommy's lungs every time that smile landed on him.

Tommy hums.

"I told them a... very abridged version of you trying to teach me Muay Thai."

Evan, gleaming and wide eyed, pinned beneath Tommy, his hands giving up any pretense of doing anything but bracketing Tommy's hips, the gentling kiss Tommy'd placed to the birthmark over his eye before Evan whined and Tommy decided he was done playing games.

"Well, now Hen thinks I lied to her." Tommy jokes, and Evan's brow jumps quizzically. Tommy can't quite help it. Even with Gerrard here, even with eyes around them, even though they'd both decided together to keep the contact to a minimum, this being a work event and all - he reaches out and taps his finger to Evan's nose just to see his face crinkle in confusion. It'll have to do, with friends and family and colleagues all around them, but he can feel the urge to drag him in, to give Evan a taste of the frosting still on his lips, to press their bodies together and feel Evan's heart beat beneath his. The desire is there, crawling beneath his skin, and Evan watches him lean back in his chair like he knows every spare thought rattling around in Tommy's head.

"I told them you make me stupid happy," Evan says, all bright and sincere, something softening around the edges of his eyes, and the cage around his heart strains under the pressure of the muscle pressing for freedom.

Tommy darts a look around the room. Things are winding down, families with children drifting off early to enjoy having the day off, members of the 118 returning to their duties now that they've been thrown back on the dispatch register, higher ups huddled off in groups whispering to themselves about how they all would have been fired if Chief Simpson wasn't gunning for a promotion. Evan tips forward, chin dropping to the bridge of his hands with a grin.

"What do you tell the Harbor people about me?"

"Oh, absolutely nothing," Tommy says, standing, tilting a hip sideways so that he can hide the thumb the presses to the divot of Evan's chin. "If I did they'd think you'd bewitched me."

Evan's smile curls over his cheeks with the dopey expression Tommy's grown to adore.

"Let's get out of here before we get recruited for cleanup."

Evan looks like he's thinking about staying, anyway, so Tommy sweetens the deal. "I told Hen and Karen you were setting the pace. Are you gonna make a liar out of me again?"

Evan barely waits until they're out of sight before he's got two hands bracketing Tommy's hips from behind. Tommy knows he's staring at his ass - can't quite blame him. He works hard on making it look good in dress blues.

They manage to make it to the far side of Tommy's truck before Evan spins him, presses him to the passenger door before Tommy can get it open for him. "When we get home," he starts, too busy pressing his tongue to Tommy's pulse point to notice Tommy's quiet inhale at the phrasing. "I'm gonna take this uniform off of you, piece by piece, and then I'm gonna blow you so good you see stars."

"We should both wear our hats," Tommy negotiates, hoping to keep it light enough that he won't hone in on 'home'.

"The medals can stay too," Evan says, and sucks a bruise into the side of Tommy's neck when Tommy tilts his head back to laugh.

[honeyhotteoks]

this night together - in their hands (j.yh, s.mg, p.sh, c.sn)

a 'this night together' deleted scene: in their hands

summary: chapter twelve of this night together from the boys perspectives, if you haven't read that yet, go here and read that first.

warnings: every warning that applies to chapter twelve, plus a lot of violence. blood, fighting, descriptions of body parts breaking, ideations of killing, and a lot of internal panic and emotion.

notes: this deleted scene is entirely dedicated to the person who commented and said it would be interesting to see chapter twelve from the boys perspective. i've never written from their povs before, so i hope this still flows well and feels good, but i couldn't get that thought out of my mind. i pretty much wrote this in one sitting and only edited it once..... so i hope it doesn't disappoint but i really just wanted to share it with you all.

there are some things that will be covered in chapter thirteen that are getting lightly spoiled here, but for the purpose of consistency i'm going for it.

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader plus alpha!san x alpha! seonghwa

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 7.8k

Yunho feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up and the air around him shift just enough to make his stomach tight about three seconds before he hears your scream. He doesn’t need to think through if it’s you or someone else, he feels it in his gut like a brick and he’s scrambling to his feet so fast his brain feels sluggishly behind. 

“Something’s wrong,” He manages as he starts to move, but Mingi is already gone like a flash and he follows at  breakneck speed behind his best friend. 

His heart feels heavy in his chest, his mouth is dry, and in the seconds it takes to run from the back office to the far studio rooms, he starts to realize that there is something very, very wrong with his omega. 

Footsteps behind him don’t deter him, his eyes are steady on Mingi’s back. 

“What the fuck was that?” San. 

“y/n,” Seonghwa, but Yunho stops listening the minute he watches Mingi push in the door to the practice room, the sound of it as it swings back on its hinges and collides with the wall stark and sharp. They take in so many little things at once before adrenaline pumps through their brains and throws them all forwards into action.

Mingi catalogs Minseok’s hands, one sunken into the back of your hair and pulling your head to the side, the other pressing you back into the wall at your chest. His knee is pressed between your thighs and the straps of your top are roughly wrenched to the side to bear the length of your throat. 

All Yunho can see is your face and everything in him is suddenly so full of cold fear. You look so blank, your body unmoving against the mirrored wall and palms upturned in submission. For a single second he thinks he’s lost you already, that the strange metallic taste in his mouth is the scent of your blood from Minseok’s successful claim and something strange and panicked bubbles out of his chest. It takes him a moment for his brain to catch up and to realize it's you, the metallic taste isn’t iron at all; it's ripe tannins, over-steeped tea, bitter and sudden and pulsating your fear and panic through the room. 

Mingi moves first. “Get the fuck off her!” His hands close over Minseok’s neck and shoulder, wrenching him backwards with a curt jerk of his arms. 

Your body tips sideways, but your face is still empty and Yunho’s mouth is so full of dry, acerbic chamomile and he can’t catch you, he can’t do anything. Everything goes absolutely silent in his mind. 

His fist connects with Minseok’s cheek first, but it doesn’t feel good enough. Mingi hauls him back up and Yunho throws a cross hard and with sure direction and then he feels the crunch of bone under his knuckles as Minseok’s nose snaps, the blood quick as he shouts and reaches to clutch at his face. 

If there’s one thing alphas typically aren’t good at it’s de-escalation, and whatever primal release of hormones his broken nose unlocked, Minseok shoves Mingi off and comes back up swinging. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Yunho narrowly misses the return shot, dipping to the side, and hands once again close down on Minseok, the combined weight of San and Seonghwa pressing him down towards the floor. 

“You broke my fucking nose!” Minseok scrambles against them. 

“Stay down,” San presses his knee square between Minseok’s shoulder blades and drops his weight. 

“Fuck you!”

Yunho drops fast, locking his hand over the back of Minseok’s neck to press his face into the wood floor and help hold him down. 

Mingi stumbles forwards after being pushed off balance, but then his eyes flick up past the scuffle and he sees you. You’re lying flat on your back on the practice room floor, eyes vacant and unfocused on the white ceiling, your leg bent in a strange position, one that can’t be comfortable but still you don’t move. 

He knows it all at once. 

“Oh, God,” His stomach turns as he ignores the writhing alpha on the floor and the others doing their best to pin him down so he can skid to your side and drop to his knees. 

Yunho can’t see you from his vantage point, he’s holding Minseok and facing the opposite direction and that wall of the practice room doesn’t have any mirrors to guide him, “Mingi, what? What’s going on?” 

“Baby,” Mingi’s so quiet as he shifts forwards, but Yunho hears it. 

“Is she alright?” Yunho can’t wait, he twists around and loses his steady grip on Minseok, but he has to know, “Mingi! Seriously, is she,” 

Mingi’s hands cup your cheeks, and he studies your empty expression for a moment but he doesn’t need to, “Jesus,” he manages, “he put her in subspace,” 

“He did what?” Seonghwa’s voice is sharp. 

“I’ll fucking kill him,” Mingi’s something else entirely when he’s angry, really and truly angry, and he has Minseok right where he wants him in a second. He cuts through the other alphas in a flash, rolling Minseok onto his back and straddling the smaller man’s hips to pin him in place. His fist has never felt as good as this moment, cracking across this coward’s teeth and splitting his skin again, and again, and again. 

The sound of your whimper only makes it feel better. 

Yunho suddenly and with perfect clarity knows what to do. In this moment you need him, even if you’re not in the presence of mind to ask, he knows. He looks you over fast as he slides close to you, relief flooding him when he sees the unbroken skin of your neck. He’ll process the redness later, the wet glisten of saliva over your gland, but his first conscious thought is that he’s strangely grateful for Minseok’s sadistic approach to claiming you against your will. He thought he had time to savor you, and those seconds of his carelessness saved your life. 

Despite your blank eyes, tears slip from the corners and snake down into your sweat-damp hair, and Yunho watches the quiver of your lip, the way your whole body seems to tremble right from its very center despite how still you really are. He drops his head to the side and calls back to the others, “Calm down or get out of here, do you understand me? You’re scaring her,” 

“Mingi,” San is wrapped around his friend’s back, trying to pull his arms into his chest, “Mingi, stop! Mingi, you’ll kill him, man, stop!” 

Minseok groans, spitting blood onto the practice room floor with choke, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, fuck,” 

“He,” Mingi’s voice is tight, “you saw what he did,” 

Minseok whines again, “Rut, it’s my rut,” 

Mingi’s nose crinkles at that and he has half a mind to keep swinging but San’s arms tighten, banded around him now and he lets him keep him still. 

“I know,” San soothes, ignoring Minseok and staying focused on his friend, “but she’s safe now,” 

“I,” Mingi breathes, but a voice breaks through the fray. 

“I called the police!” Everyone’s heads snaps up at the sound of Dahan in the doorway, her eyes shining and terrified, “they’re on their way…. I… I’ll get an ambulance too,” 

“Good,” San nods, “go wait for them out front, Dahan, tell them to hurry,” 

Her sneakers squeak on the hardwood as she darts away, her cellphone pressed against her ear. 

“We got him,” Seonghwa interjects, locking his hands down on one of Minseok’s arms, “San, help me get him to the office,” 

Everyone hears the soft, panicked noise that bubbles from the back of your throat. 

“G-go,” Mingi pushes himself back off Minseok’s hips and San finally releases his arms, “get him out of here,” 

San yanks Minseok up off the floor and winds an arm under him to hold him steady, Seonghwa on the opposite side so they can drag him up the hall to the back office. 

“Mingi,” Seonghwa manages, “please take care of her,” 

He nods once, annoyance bristling under his skin. Of course he will, you're his omega and no one, no one will ever care for you like him and Yunho. Even if you never want to talk to him again, even if he has to watch you go and let you live your life some other way with some other alpha, somehow he knows that truth down to his very soul. 

As Mingi returns to your side, Seonghwa allows his eyes to wander. He’d been trying to look anywhere else but you since he made it into the room, too afraid that he’d see the evidence of a violent claim on one of his best friends, too afraid he’d lost you. He’s never put an omega into subspace before, not even when they’ve wanted to be there, and now he doesn’t know if he’ll ever see anything but your empty eyes when he thinks of it. 

The last thought he has as he rounds the corner is that the man in his arms used to be his teammate, but now he thinks he’s as good as dead. 

Minseok groans between him and San and he can’t help but tighten his grip on the man just to make it hurt a little bit more. 

He groans again, but this time San’s the one who stops dead, “Stop whining,” his voice is cutting, “you don’t get to complain after what you’ve done,” 

A little huff of air passes through Minseok’s lips, “Some alphas you are,” 

“Excuse me?” San’s fingers tighten on Minseok’s arm where he still holds him upright. 

“There’s nothing wrong with taking what’s on offer,” Minseok says it like it’s obvious, “isn’t that right, Seonghwa?” 

Seonghwa’s stomach goes icy and he’s not really the type to get into a physical fight, but this? This is something altogether different. He has him back up against the wall of the hallway with a sharp knee to his gut, and then his mind goes absolutely blank. He’s never felt rage like this, true and deep compelling retribution singing through his blood and he just can’t help himself. 

“She’s a person,” Seonghwa lands a swift kick to the man’s ribs as he lets him drop to the floor, “and you’re a fucking waste of an alpha,” 

“Hwa,” San’s voice is low and calm, but he ignores it. 

Another kick, another. He feels ribs give way to make space for his rage, “Stand up if you’re such a big man,” 

Minseok groans again. 

“You’re alpha enough to terrify an omega,” Seonghwa spits, “come on, get up, try and terrify me,” 

He’s coughing now, fingers gripping the cold hard floor beneath him, “P-please,” 

“What was that?” Seonghwa lands a stiff punch to his gut. 

Minseok curls in on himself with a cry, “Please, you know what, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for what I said,” 

“I’d keep your mouth shut,” San again, but Seonghwa can’t conceive of where he is or what he’s doing, his eyes are so singularly focused on this man. 

“It was,” Minseok coughs, blood across his lips, “the rut, I just lost it, you know how the haze is,” 

“I don’t know a thing about how you are,” Seonghwa drops another punch. 

“No, no!” Minseok shrieks at the sensation of another rib popping. 

“Hwa,” 

Minseok’s voice is getting threadier, “y/n, she,” 

Seonghwa’s hand redirects, a sharp strike across his face as he descends on the man in earnest, “Keep her name out of your fucking mouth,” 

He loses count of the number of punches it takes for Minseok’s jaw to pop and his eyes to roll back, and San knows he should have stopped it all sooner, but there’s a part of him that wanted to watch this man suffer too. 

Seonghwa is shaking, blood spattered across his gray sweatpants, smears darting up the sleeves of his white shirt. The soft skin of his knuckles is split open and angry, and San thinks if it was possible to love someone’s hands more, he does. San curls his body around Seonghwa from behind, but unlike Mingi, Seonghwa allows his arms to be pulled in by his sometimes lover. 

“Jagi,” San whispers low in his ear so only he can hear, “come back,” 

Minseok is still, his eyes closed, “Sannie,” Seonghwa’s voice cracks, “w-what did I do? Is he dead?” 

“No,” San squeezes him, “he’s just knocked out. An ambulance is coming, you did nothing wrong.”

“What did I do?” Seonghwa asks again, his voice small, and San knows he has to take care of things now. 

San pulls Seonghwa up to stand, turning him physically away from the bloodied man on the floor, “Jagi, come away with me, alright?” 

“What did I do?” 

“You’re in shock,” San says softly, “but I’m here,” 

“What did I do?” He repeats, empty as San steers him towards the back office. He’s never been in a fight, he’s never hurt someone like that in his life. He’s not prepared for the way that the feeling of a body under his angry hands replays on a loop in his mind, he didn’t know he was capable of things like that. 

“Shh,” San bids him as he gets him directed into a seat, “I’ll be right back, baby, but I need to take care of something first.” 

Seonghwa is vaguely aware of a shout from the far practice room, and down the length of the hall he finds Minseok’s body again with his eyes. 

San steps cleanly into his eyeline to break his gaze, “Stay right here, just breathe.” 

He manages to nod, and then San is gone and the door is shut. He wants to cry. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tone is not something Mingi has ever enjoyed using. He’s tried it, of course, every alpha has even when they say they haven’t. It’s natural, it’s a part of growing up, he just always hated the way tone seemed to change every boy around him. Mingi remembers the first time he ever tried it, in the mirror in the emptiness of his childhood home. His voice broke a little later than the other boys around him, but when it did it dropped fast and deep in the smack center of his chest. 

He remembers his middle school teacher’s eyebrows drawing high when he said hello to her the next day. He remembers how she smiled and the way she said - Maybe you’ll make a good alpha afterall. 

He started to speak less and less after that. He practiced at home in the mirror just to understand the shape of his voice like that, but unlike some of the other boys who couldn’t help but torment with their tone, he knew what it could do. Yunho was the first boy he ever met that didn’t need to use it to command respect on the school yard, and when Yunho swung an arm around Mingi’s shoulders and said he was with him, he got respect too. No one asked why he was so quiet after Yunho, they finally just let him be. 

Mingi hasn’t used tone since he was maybe sixteen, joking around with Yunho to make each other laugh trying to stay up late on a summer’s night. But an alpha never forgets how to do it, and Mingi just has to let it come. 

He’s crouched over your prone body now, his hands holding your face steady as he tries to get your eyes to focus on his. Yunho is practically a knot of panic next to him, but he can’t focus on him when he knows he has to focus on you to pull you out from under. He doesn’t know what Minseok said to you to put you this deep into headspace, but he knows he should have killed him for it. 

He watches tears track silently down your temples and over his shaking fingers as Yunho begs him, “Why isn’t this working?” 

“I’m not sure,” He answers quietly, but he knows exactly why, he just doesn’t for the life of him want to do it, so he tries one more time with his normal voice, “y/n. Omega. Listen to me now,” 

People respond to their designations, it’s natural, and in a state of submission like this the possibility that you’d be able to latch onto the word ‘omega’ alone is certainly possible. The noise you make is thready and tight, but at least Mingi knows he has your ear now.

  “Come up now,” He repeats, “right now. Listen to me, omega,” 

He might be able to get you up without using tone, but he doesn’t know for sure. You don’t make a single sound in response to his last plea, and suddenly he can’t stop it, he can’t lose this one chance of your conscious mind floating close enough to the surface. 

He takes a low inhale, letting the otherworldly calm fill his chest, the familiar feeling of his alpha tone building in his lower throat and then he says it, “Don’t disobey your alpha.” 

Your eyes finally flick to his, pupils dilating as you focus on Mingi’s face. 

Yunho draws in a sharp breath. 

Mingi remains passive, he doesn’t let himself feel the joy yet of knowing you’re okay, he has to get you there first. He needs you awake, talking, crying, screaming, anything to tell him that you’re here. He holds your eyes steady, “When you’re given a directive, you follow it.” He hates this part, the way an alpha’s bark can make an omega snap to attention, but he almost has you back. Shifting closer he levels his voice more and gives you a clear and present order, “Come. Up.” 

Mingi watches your face break from cold blankness, grief and panic etched into the lines on your forehead and by your eyes, your hands reflexively jerking up to defend yourself like it was your last thought before you lost the ability. 

“I’m sorry,” You choke out, and he watches you start to curl in on yourself. 

He’s not thinking anymore really, he just can’t let you hide away from them, and he pulls your body up into his shaking arms, “You’re here? You’re with us?” 

His name on your lips. 

Your body is vibrating with panicked sobs, and he feels you claw against him like you want to crawl into his chest, pushing your body against his with desperate heaving breaths. For a moment he’s so worried that his own use of alpha tone might have hurt you more than helped you and his mind spins. 

Yunho drops a heavy hand on Mingi’s thigh, a steadying comfort bringing him straight back to center. 

Mingi drops his face to your hair and strokes your back, “Shh,” his body rocks naturally to soothe you, “we’ve got you, we’re right here, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” 

“She’s bleeding,” The edge in Yunho’s voice scares him, and Mingi snaps to attention. 

His hands search over your body, looking for the source of pain, trying to find the problem that he can fix so you’ll just stay whole and here and with him. 

“Here,” Yunho says, stopping Mingi’s frantic movements, “it’s not too bad.” 

It’s not, rationally he knows that by the small amount of blood smeared across Yunho’s fingers, but Mingi’s never seen you bleed before and his stomach knots up tightly in rage. 

Mingi holds you while Yunho steps in, talking you through the moment as you come back to your senses. He can barely breathe at the way your body shakes in his arms, your nails digging into his thigh where you grip him unconsciously, and he hears your fast breath and the quick step flutter of your heart, but he can’t move. His hands keep making fists, he wants so badly to stalk down the halls and find this man. Nothing he did was good enough, not now that he’s hearing you cry. You were never supposed to be afraid like this, not ever. 

He comes back into his body when you pitch the contents of your stomach into the little plastic trash can that Yunho pushes into your hands, the sound of your tight wretch shocking enough to pull him back down. 

He gathers your hair back, “Okay,” he tries to soothe you, “you’re okay,” 

“He touched me,” You manage, and Mingi’s mind flashes with static images. His hand in your hair, on your chest, lips, tongue, teeth. 

Mingi and Yunho both hold you steady while you heave again, “The things he said,” 

“Shh,” Yunho tries now, “you’re safe, none of that is true.” 

“He talked to me like a dog, and I couldn’t move, he told me not to move and I just let him,”

Mingi finds his voice too quickly, “No.” 

The way you twitch under his hands makes him sick and he softens his voice as best he can despite the curl of anger in his belly, “He used alpha tone on you, he wanted you to stop fighting and he said it in tone until you couldn’t hear anything else.” 

Yunho’s hand lays over his on your back. 

“You didn’t let him do anything,” He needs you to understand. 

“I’ve never,” You heave again, nothing in your body this time. 

Mingi’s ears are ringing, but Yunho’s soothing you now like he’s so good at doing and you’re pushing back the plastic bin, but then you slide out of his arms and onto the wood floor and he doesn’t know if he should reach for you or not. 

“I’ve never been in subspace,” He hears you say. 

“You’re not there now,” 

“I don’t remember, it’s so muddled, I can’t remember,” 

Mingi watches you frantically check your body and he wishes he had had the foresight to fix your shirt from the way that it was pulled to the side over the cap of your shoulder because maybe you wouldn’t have had to remember that and he could have saved you this one small thing.

  Yunho dips lower in front of you to meet your eyes when he says, “What can’t you remember?” 

Mingi watches you reach up your hand, desperate to know. He remembers suddenly the moment in his bed all those months ago when you mistakenly thought in the haze of heat Yunho might have claimed you. Rage and sick guilt swirl in his gut and then he hears you ask it, soft and terrified, “Did he… did we?” 

“No,” Yunho brings you right out of that terror spiral and back to the moment, “absolutely not.” 

Mingi hates the smell of your fear and he’s learning that he hates the way you look when you’re scared. He never wants to see you like this again for as long as he lives. 

“All I can smell his him,” 

He has to get out of this room. 

“I can’t even breathe,” 

Mingi knows you need someone calm right now, someone centered and capable, but if he has to feel you shaking on his lap again he might just snap. His eyes flick to Yunho, “Take her,” 

There’s a question in his friend’s eyes but Yunho’s careful not to say it out loud. 

“I’m getting water,” Mingi says, and then he’s moving. 

In the hall his breath comes back in heaving gulps and he nearly slips in a little pool of blood on his frantic way to the locker room. 

San is up the hall, in front of the closed back office door with his cell phone tucked tightly against his ear but at the sight of Mingi he drops it immediately and presses it to his chest, “How is she?” 

“Awake,” Mingi responds, “alert,”

“Herself?” San asks. 

Mingi nods, “Where is he?” 

He’s not sure it’s actually best for him to know that information at this time, but he had to ask anyway. San nods his head to the right towards a smaller studio space, “He’s unconscious, don’t even think about it.” 

“I’m… I’m not, I,” Mingi feels dizzy, he needs to sit before gravity makes him. 

“I have to,” San shakes the phone, putting it back to his ear, “she’s okay, I’m telling you, she’s okay.” 

Mingi can’t be here, he can’t be anywhere. He pushes himself to the connecting hallway that leads to the locker room. 

“Wooyoungie,” He hears San say from behind him, “listen to me, she’s okay, I promise you.” 

Mingi cannot understand how this day went from normal, hopeful about Saturday, to catastrophically terrible in every way imaginable. 

In the locker room he collapses on one of the wooden benches, his mind pulsing with questions. He needs to get back to you, but he can’t let you see him like this, he knows he’d scare you after everything you’ve just been through. He wonders if this is a panic attack. 

The thought that presses into him sideways and buries deep in his brain is sickening. He left you alone with that man for three months. He was traveling, and laughing, and dancing, and eating stupid junk food thinking his biggest problem was whether or not you might be into Seonghwa. He was so selfish. He blanches when the next thought occurs to him. Have you been afraid of Seo Minseok this whole time, afraid in ways you felt you couldn’t tell them? 

Mingi rips open his locker and pulls out anything he can find to muffle his bubbling voice, a sweatshirt and a towel stuffed tightly against his mouth to capture his angry scream. He has to get this out of his body, and he has to get back to you, but he’s so, so angry in a way that feels uncontrollable. 

His body collides with the locker door, denting the middle inwards enough that it no longer properly latches shut, but he doesn’t care. The pain spiking up the side of his arm is good, it’s real, and it pumps his brain full of all the chemicals he needs to focus. 

He puts any thought of going across the hall into the practice room where Minseok lays unconscious. He ignores the little voice that says he would be justified in finishing him off. He forces himself to think about your face, your smile when he saw you at the party for the first time in months. 

He holds that image while he moves quickly, grabbing a few water bottles and turning right down the hallway towards you and away from every impulse flicking through his body.  He stops short at the door when he hears Yunho’s voice, “I’d put him on the floor faster than you could blink. Mingi and I both would.” 

He breathes through the spike of anger as he hears your soft voice in response. He hates that you’re still afraid, even with him here, but he knows he has to show you for you to believe it. 

“You are completely safe,” Yunho says, and at this moment Mingi is so grateful for Yunho’s steadfast calm. 

He takes one more deep, deep breath, and pushes through the doorway with as much softness as he can muster. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

San ignores his phone. He’s told Wooyoung everything he can about what happened and that you’re safe and now he has other problems to deal with. 

As Mingi disappears into the locker rooms, Dahan races back through the hallway, her eyes darting down at the puddle of blood, “Oh, god,” 

“It’s his,” San assuages her fears immediately, “are they on the way?” 

“Yes, I told them to hurry,” She nods, “does he need an ambulance too?” 

“The ambulance is for him,” San says, clearing his throat, “can you wait for them and show them where to come? I need to,” he jerks his head towards the back office. 

“Yes, yes, of course,” 

“And Dahan,” He remembers himself, “don’t go into studio two, okay?” 

Her eyes flick to the door, “Is he in there?” 

San nods, “He’s hurt, but still, he’s not safe to be around, okay?” 

Dahan might be a beta, but he’s not taking any risks where Minseok is concerned, not after he heard the way he talked so casually about what he did to you. She nods, stepping backwards down the hall once more. 

With everything taken care of, he can finally focus. 

San pulls open the door to the back office and Seonghwa jumps, his eyes going from unfocused to focused in a second. “It’s only me,” San says softly, “I’m here now,” 

“San,” Seonghwa’s eyes well up with tears, “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” 

San shakes his head, dropping to crouch in front of him, and he gently lays his hands on Seonghwa’s knees, “There’s nothing wrong with you at all,” 

“I should be helping,” Seonghwa swallows tightly. 

San shakes his head again, “Everything’s handled,” he says, brushing his hand over Seonghwa’s long black hair, “there’s nothing to do right now.” 

“y/n?” Seonghwa murmurs. 

“She’s awake,” San repeats Mingi’s words from a few moments ago, “alert, and she’s herself,” 

“Thank god,” Seonghwa’s breath hitches, “and she’s alright? She’s not alone?” 

“They’re with her,” San soothes him, cupping his cheek, “she’s right where she needs to be,” 

“Good,” Seonghwa sinks back into his seat. 

San lets his hand drop back to Seonghwa’s thigh, his phone once again buzzing incessantly in his pocket. He’s sure Wooyoung is frantic, but right now he needs to focus here on the man in front of him. Wooyoung will have to wait. 

“Who’s calling?” Seonghwa nods towards San’s pocket. 

“Woo,” 

“You told him?” Seonghwa surmises. 

“I thought she might need him,” San confesses softly, “I don’t know what an omega would want at a time like this… I wouldn’t know what to do,” 

“You’re doing it now,” Seonghwa corrects, “you’re doing better than me,” 

San squeezes Seonghwa’s knee, giving him the smallest shake of his head, he never was one to accept that kind of self deprecating talk and he’s not about to start now. 

“I should,” Seonghwa starts to shift away from San and put space between them, but then he actually looks down at himself and his chest starts to pound, “oh, Jesus,” 

He hadn’t properly looked, he hadn’t really taken it in until this moment. He’s never seen so much blood before, and his hands are shaking as he turns them over to see his stained palms. 

“Shh,” San covers Seonghwa’s trembling hands with his own, “I’ve got you,” 

“H-he’s alive, right?” Seonghwa can’t think of anything except the way Minseok’s jaw felt coming loose under his fist, “Sannie, did I kill him?” 

“No, no,” San dips closer, pressing a warm kiss to Seonghwa’s forehead, “he’s fine, it looks worse than it is. You didn’t do that, you’d never do that, I know you,” 

Tears pool in Seonghwa’s eyes, tracking down his cheeks quickly as he drops his head against San’s clean knuckles, “I thought about it,” his voice is tight with tears, “what does that make me?” 

“Hey,” San moves in, pressing quick kisses along Seonghwa’s temple, any part of him that he can reach, “no, it makes you a person, alright? He did something awful to someone we love.” San squeezes his hands tight, “He hurt her, he could have claimed her, we all know what that means, okay? You were protecting her, you did nothing wrong,” 

Seonghwa stills, letting his words sink in. He thinks about what an unwanted claim would have done to you, who you would have become. 

“It wasn’t his rut either,” San leans his head against Seonghwa’s, his thumb caressing the back of his hand, “you know that’s just what these alphas say when they try to do what he did,” 

“I don’t understand why he would try it here,” Seonghwa lifts up, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“He thought we were all gone,” San says quietly, “I’m sure he thought y/n and maybe Dahan were the only ones working late. Yunho and Mingi had the back office door closed, I was in the gym, and you said you were leaving early. It was quiet,” 

“He planned it, then,” Seonghwa’s stomach rolls. 

“I think so,” San nods, “we just need the police to believe that.” 

“They’re coming?” Seonghwa murmurs. 

“Mhm,” San smiles, close lipped and then sighs, “jagi, I need you to do something for me,” 

Seonghwa studies his face, he hasn’t heard San call him that outside of bed in so long, “Why are you being so nice to me?” 

San sighs, eyes flicking away, “You know why,” 

The feeling sits between them for a moment, and then Seonghwa nods, “What do you need me to do?” 

“We need to get you out of these clothes,” San cups his cheek again, “and you need to wash your hands,” 

“San,” Seonghwa’s jaw tightens, realizing what San is pushing him to do, “I’m not lying to the police,” 

“It’s not lying,” San presses, “you’re just changing after work,” 

“If I get in trouble for what I did, I’m not going to get caught lying on top of that,” Seonghwa murmurs, “I know what you’re trying to do, but think it through.” 

San’s jaw tenses and relaxes and then he nods, “Alright, but I’m cleaning your cuts, and you’re not going to argue about that.” 

Seonghwa smiles softly and nods, “Okay,” 

San ignores the phone in his pocket again and finds the first aid kit in the cabinets, pulling out a pack of alcohol wipes and gauze. He doubles back for a water bottle and some paper towels, and then he pulls a chair close to Seonghwa to sit and take his hands back in his. 

Seonghwa is quiet while San works. He uses the water and the paper towel to effectively wash the blood away from his palms and the alcohol wipes to clean the broken skin of his knuckles. He works on him quickly and quietly, and he fights the urge to kiss his broken skin when he’s finished, he’s gotten away with too much today already. 

He holds Seonghwa’s hands in his, so much softer and more delicate than his. He thinks that after today he’ll have to take care to make sure he never has to use them in violence again. San thinks the next time he will do better, if Seonghwa ever has to kill, San will be the one to kill for him. 

San smooths his thumbs over the backs of Seonghwa’s hands, and this time he does give into temptation. Dipping forward he presses a kiss to each of his palms. 

“San,” Seonghwa’s voice is soft, “we’re alright,” 

“I know,” He whispers into the soft skin of the hands he misses so deeply, hands he aches for. If anyone ever touched him the way that Minseok touched you, he can’t even conceive of what he wouldn’t do. 

His phone rings again, and this time he answers it. 

“Now you answer?” Wooyoung’s voice is taut, “I’m downstairs,” 

“I had things to take care of,” San sighs, standing and giving Seonghwa’s hand one final squeeze. 

“I’m coming up,” Wooyoung ignores his excuse, “he better be in a fucking body bag when I get there,” 

The line goes dead, and San steps into the hall. He takes quick stock. Minseok is still unconscious in studio two, he can hear the tone of your voice from down the hall mixed with Yunho and Mingi’s. The slick patch of blood on the tile is gone, and San wonders if Dahan had the same idea he did about cleaning up before the police arrive. 

The door to the access stairs by the elevator swings open, Wooyoung looking wild and full of panicked rage, and San dives back into the chaos. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

For the first time in his life, Yunho wishes he wasn’t the designated driver for everything. He wishes Mingi had a license. He wishes that after the most uncomfortable and awful hospital trip of his life he could have tossed Mingi the keys and told him to drive and climbed in the backseat with you. Instead he’s stuck in the driver’s seat again, trying to focus on the road but finding himself glancing up every few seconds to check his rear view mirror just so he can see you asleep with your head in Mingi’s lap. 

“Green light,” Mingi murmurs with a nod of his head, and Yunho breaks his eyes away from the mirror to watch the road again and press the gas. 

“Sorry,” He manages. 

“I get it,” Mingi replies, his fingers slowly brushing along your temple, “I can’t believe she’s here either.” 

“Is she sleeping?” Yunho checks. 

“Mhm,” Mingi nods, “she’s out,” 

Yunho breathes a sigh of relief, he hated having to wake you up with Mingi every few minutes on the way to the hospital when they weren’t sure if you had a concussion or not, he’s just happy you can actually get some rest if you need it. 

“Yunho,” Mingi says quietly, a question in the lilt of his voice, “what did the police want to ask you?” 

“Um,” His eyes flick to the mirror and then back to the road, “they wanted to talk to the owner, but Jaemin obviously wasn’t there,” 

“Right,” Mingi nods. 

“I don’t know,” Yunho admits, “San gave them my name and said I could give a statement about what happened,” 

“Which was?” Mingi asks. 

Yunho watches your face for a moment, but it’s clear you’re still deep asleep and he shrugs, “The truth, that we heard a scream and that when we went into the room we saw him attempting to hurt her. It was clear he was trying to force a claim and that she was in subspace, and that Minseok fought us while we tried to subdue him.” 

“Do you think they believe that?” Mingi murmurs. 

“They have to,” Yunho won’t let that thought enter his mind, he knows what Mingi’s implying, they both heard the way your conversation with the police went at the hospital, but he can’t entertain the thought that the police would side with anyone but you. 

“Do they?” 

“Not tonight,” Yunho shakes his head, “not in front of her, she’s been through enough.” 

Mingi stays quiet, and Yunho drives on. 

When they pull into the alleyway that leads to their apartment, Yunho watches you start to stir. It’s like you have a sixth sense that the energy in the car is changing, and you make soft, sleepy noises as you come out of it. 

Mingi runs a hand soothingly up and down your back, “We’re home, okay? You’re with us,” 

Yunho watches the way you don’t respond. Your eyes look vacant again, unfocused and distant and when he pulls the car to a stop he watches the way you don’t wait to just step out yourself and start the familiar walk up to their front door. 

He exchanges a fast look with Mingi, and they follow you at a little distance to keep the pressure off until the door’s unlocked and you’re stepping over the threshold. Everything about this is wrong. Not you back in their home, that’s never felt so right to Yunho in his life, but you look glassy and scared and he wants nothing more than to take it away. 

“Hey,” He tries, waving a hand across your field of vision, “are you alright?” 

Your eyes flick away from his, a pregnant pause between you before you look back up, “I’m fine, sorry, it’s just been awhile.” 

He feels heat flood his cheeks, his ears warm. Of course you’re not alright, and he feels stupid and small at even asking the question. He feels foolish about every little thing until you walk down the hall and shut yourself away in the bathroom. 

“I don’t know what the fuck to do,” Mingi says suddenly, running a hand through his hair before moving towards the couch, “I still want to break something.” 

“I know,” Yunho nods, sitting next to him on the sofa, his knee bouncing nervously. 

Mingi shoots him a glance, his eyes flicking down to his knee, and Yunho freezes. They settle into the quiet of their apartment, and they listen. Yunho expects to hear you cry, something more than just the steady spray of the shower, but he doesn’t and that scares him more than anything. 

“Should we call the others?” Mingi clears his throat after a while, “Woo or,” 

“Seonghwa?” Yunho finishes his thought for him and then swallows tightly, “No, I, I wouldn’t know what to say.” 

“Me either,” Mingi nods. 

“She wants to be here,” Yunho remembers the way you clung to his shoulders at the studio, begging for home, and maybe tomorrow you’ll regret that decision but he’s done trying to think for you. 

“I know,” 

“Let’s just let her be here then,” Yunho murmurs. 

Yunho knows that Mingi doesn’t want to lose you just as much as he doesn’t. They agreed one night after just enough alcohol on tour how they felt, everything finally out in the open between them. They had never stopped and imagined a pack together, but they both know it feels right. 

“We’re her friends,” Mingi reasons quietly. 

“Friends,” Yunho nods, “and the fact that we’re both stupidly in love with her can wait,” 

“Yep,” Mingi sighs, “I think we’ve gotten pretty good at that,” 

Yunho huffs, a short breath of laughter through his nose and nods, “Yeah,” 

The sound of the shower turning off draws both their gazes up and down the hall, and then Mingi stands, “I’m going to make up my room in case she wants it,” 

Yunho watches him go. He listens to the stillness of the apartment around him. 

Mingi comes back and you’re still in the bathroom. They make themselves scarce. They listen as you come out of the bathroom and go straight into Mingi’s bedroom. The door shuts tight. Yunho listens but he doesn’t hear the turn of the lock. The bed creaks, sheets rustle, and then all is quiet. 

“What do we do now?” Mingi asks quietly. 

Yunho’s eyes flick over the closed door down the hall, “We wait.” 

Being pulled from sleep at four in the morning is never a good thing, but Yunho would put seeing you struggle through a night terror and a flash back at the absolute top of his most awful moments list. The way it took so much to get you to snap out of it and come back to them, the pile of Mingi’s bedding in the corner, the way your muscles stayed locked tight for minutes even with their arms around you. 

Holding you now with Mingi he keeps thinking of the purple bruises that litter your skin from where you rubbed your glands raw. He’s a swirling mix of emotion, but the worst part of it is that there’s nothing left to do. He can’t channel it anywhere, there’s no threat except the one in your mind now, and he doesn’t know how to make that kind of threat recede. 

He remembers the way you shrank back into his chest at the hospital at the glimpse of Minseok’s name on the hospital room door as you passed through to the exit. All he could do was wrap an arm around your body and try to steer you away, and he doesn’t know if that was even close to good enough. 

His mind turns it all over as light starts to spread in the sky outside, and he feels the way you’re shifting in the bed getting closer and closer to sleep. He hopes you can all get a few more hours before the reality of whatever tomorrow is going to bring. Your lips move against Yunho’s chest and he doesn’t risk shifting a muscle so he can hear your quiet words in the dark. It’s faint, but he hears it when you whisper, “Don’t let me go,” 

Yunho’s throat constricts, his eyes flooding with tears. He presses his eyes shut tight, trying to keep his breathing even and low so you don’t know he’s still awake. The weight of the night sinks into him, pushing against his chest and there are so many things he wants to say to you heavy on his tongue. 

It doesn’t take long for your breathing to level out and your body to unspool and relax, they both feel it when you do, and Yunho takes a shaky wet breath now that he knows he can. 

When he opens his eyes again it’s straight into Mingi’s and for some reason his friend’s unwavering gaze makes the tears come faster. 

Mingi waits, and Yunho looks away in discomfort at the raw moment of exposure. 

Quietly, and careful not to wake the woman in his arms, Mingi shifts closer to you and Yunho, his arm stretching across you both and settling on Yunho’s side. 

“It’s okay,” Mingi murmurs quietly. 

“How is this okay?” Yunho manages, getting his moment of overflowing emotion under control. 

“She’s here,” Mingi says simply, “even if it’s just tonight,” 

Yunho’s arms tighten around your sleeping form and he nods, “She’s here,” 

Mingi presses a kiss to your hair and squeezes Yunho’s side just once, “Sleep,” 

“What if she has another nightmare?” Yunho murmurs. 

“I’ve got her,” Mingi assures quietly, “you sleep,” 

You shift between them, winding your way deeper into Yunho’s embrace, and he passes a hand up and down your back until you sigh heavily against his skin. If this is all he has, he’s going to take it. He nods to Mingi, and despite the growing light leaking in through the curtains outside, sleep pulls him under. 

Mingi stays awake for as long as he can stand watching over you both, but held in their arms you barely stir. There are no nightmares, no subspace to hold you under. With the birds starting to sing, Mingi falls asleep. 

He wakes to the sound of a fist on their front door and the sinking feeling that last night might have really been their last with you. He hopes to god he’s wrong. He so badly wants to be wrong. 

[froglover7789]

luke skywalker needs a man who isnt afraid to manhandle him. like. pull him somewhere grab him round the middle pick him up type manhandling.

look at me in my eyes and tell me luke isnt a certified space cadet. bro is Known for daydreaming like his head is always somewhere else. now you might be thinking "well once hes a jedi master that surely goes away right?" WRONG id argue it gets worse bc now bro can get lost in the force too!

he needs a man who'll prevent him from being a clumsy mf.... a man who will grab him before he walks right into a wall.... a man who will drag him somewhere else when hes clearly standing in the way....

[cheshire-wink]

This was going to be a scene in River's Child, but then I realized the season was wrong, so I had to delete it. But it was too cute to just let it die, so you can all have it as-is. Maybe someday it will fit into a different fic and I'll have an excuse to clean it up a bit.

"Xian-gege! Xian-gege!" Wen Yuan tugged at Wei Wuxian's sleeve.

"Yeah?"

"Show pretty-gege flowers!"

Wei Wuxia had to bite his lip to hold back his laughter. He glanced at Lan Wangji, who was looking away with flushed ears. "Sure! We can show pretty-gege the flowers."

Lan Wangji shot him a glare, and Wei Wuxian nearly lost his battle with laughter.

"Eat them!" Wen Yuan beamed up at Wei Wuxian.

"Yes, yes," Wei Wuxian ruffled Wen Yuan’s hair and then scooped him up, "We can eat some." He looked at Lan Wangji, with a grin, "Well, pretty-gege, shall we go harvest some fresh lotus seeds?"

Lan Wangji could feel his ears burning, but confronted with Wei Wuxian's amused grin and Wen Yuan’s eager expression he could do nothing but nod helplessly.

Wei Wuxian's grin widened, and he quickly spun around, causing Wen Yuan to giggle, and headed in the direction of the back pond. "All right, my little dumpling, let's go teach Lan-er-gongzi how to peel Lotus seeds!" Wen Yuan cheered and waved his hand over Wei Wuxian's shoulder as Wei Wuxian began walking away.

"Come too, pretty-gege!"

Lan Wangji followed, ears bright red.

<>

Out on the pier in the Lotus pond Wei Wuxian paused, "Lan Zhan, can you keep an eye on A-Yuan while I go grab some of the pods? I'd take a boat, but honestly it would take longer to get one."

Lan Wangji nodded, and Wei Wuxian lowered Wen Yuan to the ground and crouched down in front of him, "You have to stay with Lan Zhan, ok?"

Wen Yuan nodded rapidly, and quickly moved to latch onto Lan Wangji's leg.

Wei Wuxian chuckled, and stood, and then, to Lan Wangji's mortification, he began removing his belt, and then his outer robes. Lan Wangji looked away. The flush on his ears was beginning to make its way down his neck. He didn't look back until he heard the sound of Wei Wuxian slipping off the wooden pier into the water.

A few minutes later Wei Wuxian returned holding a bundle of Lotus pods by their stems. As he set them down and then lifted himself out of the water to sit, dripping, on the edge of the wood, Lan Wangji felt his heart start pounding. Wei Ying in very little clothing and completely unashamed about it was bad enough. Wei Ying in nothing but his pants, and those wet and thin and sticking to his skin, was so much worse. He was fairly sure he was going to die.

A small hand tugged on his sleeve, and he numbly sank to sit on the pier next to Wen Yuan, who snatched up a Lotus pod and held it out to him. "Eat gege!"

Lan Wangji took the pod and stared at it blankly.

Wei Wuxian snickered and moved closer. It took every shred of self-control Lan Wangji had in that moment not to move. Whether he wanted to move closer or farther, he wasn't entirely sure.

He could smell the fragrance of the lotuses in the air, and the smell of the wood of the pier, warmed by the sun, and something distinctly Wei Ying as the man leaned close. Lan Wangji swallowed and forced his eyes away from the broad expanse of still wet skin right in front of him and tried to focus on what Wei Wuxian's hands were doing.

"Here, like this." Wei Wuxian had another Lotus pod in his hand, and he demonstrated how to extract the seeds, and then how to peel them. "Then just eat them!" He tossed one into his mouth, smiling, and handed a second to Wen Yuan who was trying, with a look of intense concentration, to open a pod by himself. 

[missingn000]

hey all! i wrote a what-if character study & action fic for if king fought sanji instead of zoro during the raid on onigashima. i'd really love if you gave it a read! thanks so much!

link

playlist

happy reading!

[nenoname]

stan twins the canon cptsd brothers i will always think about all your unaddressed issues that would make perfect plot fuel for your spinoff

and also the whole 'stan getting that poem by bill via a website which contrasts with bill getting one from the axolotl via a website' foreshadowing thing

like idk i would love something like su future but like more optimistic, aka not an accumulated breakdown that has to be mostly resolved off screen at the end :/// but something thats being kinda addressed throughout? (although would love to see one of them turn into a monster thats always fun lol)

stan having severe issues from his dad and those years of being homeless that we keep on getting more info on but never really getting confronted on (the drifter catalogue and tijuana incident...), him being completely alone for like twenty years when running the shack before soos comes along to the point that 1998 is noted as his low point, and him not really learning about bill+what he did to ford until ages after he killed him if he ever did get the full context

while i think amnesia and everyone seeing him as a hero actually helped with stan's 'i'm a worse version of my brother' thing its still a lingering issue too and we now got him being insecure over his own hands

ford being immediately thrown from 'being tortured by bill' to 'being stuck in the multiverse and being chased by bounty hunters constantly', him fully expecting himself to die when destroying bill, and him only now being safe for the first time in 30 years ....relatively safe, he's still in constant danger because of course he is

idk in the end the series wants them to be happy and they deserve it, its why i wasn't too worried about the book being like 'ooh bill is back!! and the book is haunting ford' thing cos i knew they'll be ok

[rvspecter]

[stervrucht]

Steve is still awake. Eddie can tell by his breathing by now.

He pulls Eddie close until his back touches Steve’s chest. A hand snakes around his waist, holding him. It’s probably too warm to lie like this. The heat of the day still lingers inside the trailer, regardless of the windows they cracked open. 

It’s too warm, yet he craves the heat.

He can feel Steve’s breath in his hair as he whispers sweet nothings. 

Steve’s mouth on his neck, behind his ear, as he places a soft kiss there.

Steve whispers something — his voice soft with sleep — that can’t possibly be what Eddie thinks it sounds like. Steve says strange things all the time, just before falling asleep. Usually, it's gibberish, sometimes it’s plain weird. 

Never before was it that.

It feels nice, to be held like this and Eddie feels like he would die a happy man if this moment were to be his last.

“Love you too.”

It’s barely above a whisper and he isn’t sure if Steve heard before falling asleep.