#he jumped to save all might before j could even move a muscle

[zaiban2989]

So I'm watching episode 0 of season 2, basically a recap of the first season voiced by Izuku... And god, imagine they did this but with Katsuki's POV?!

The whole bullying and getting pissed cuz quirkless Deku wanna go to UA TOO?!

I told him to fucking die and he runs like an ass to try and save me from sludge villain, wtf?!

Why is he not backing down when I'm telling him to not go to UA?!

Fuck he's in my fucking class HOW?!!?!

FUCKING DEKU GOT A QUIRK, HE'S BEEN DECEIVING ME THE WHOLE TIME, FUCKER!!!

Rage, damn nerd, Imma beat the shit out of you for lying to me and looking down on me!!!

I FUCKING LOST TO HIM HOW????!!! *full panic attack*

Why the fuck did this useless nerd move before me when All Might was sure to die?!

God I wanna watch this 😭💚🧡

[simplylupin]

Pope saves JJ

What if Pope was the one who saved JJ from drowning in e10??

For the first time in his life, Pope didn't hesitate once - didn't think twice - as he swung over the railing of the ship and jumped into the water below. Somewhere, in the very back of his mind, he knew that launching himself at highspeed into the ocean wasn't the smartest of moves, but as he let go off the metal bar and let himself fall, he found he didn't care much. He was only focussed on JJ and the way he'd looked when Pope had peered over the edge: face down, his body limp and lifeless. All he cared about was making sure JJ stayed alive.

He impacted with the water hard, momentarily shocked by the cold, his muscles seizing up at the sudden change in temperature. A waved slapped against his face and shook him out of his daze, and he gritted his teeth, searching desperately for a sign of JJ. Panic flooded through him when he couldn't spot the boy anywhere, but then another wave broke and there, a flash of blonde hair against the dark water. Pushing past the ache in his limbs, Pope swam over frantically, gasping for breath by the time he'd reached JJ. He grabbed his arm, careful not to weigh him down but enough to keep him up, and slung it over his own shoulder, holding JJ up. He didn't give the slightest of movements at Pope's touch, nothing but shallow breaths and the scarily small rise and fall of his chest. Pope felt his panic rise again as he shook JJ as best as he could, trying to get a get a reaction, any reaction, out of him.

"JJ," he managed to gasp out, "J, stay with me."

Pressure in his chest began building up, and it didn't take him long to realise that it wasn't a result of lack of oxygen, but rather his anxiety slowly stirring inside of him. Not now, he pleaded silently, JJ. I need to help JJ. He gripped his hands tighter around the fabric of JJ's tank top, his fingers digging into his arms.

"Please," he said, not sure if he was talking to himself or JJ.

He closed his eyes and tried to take a deep breath to calm himself but received a mouthful of seawater instead. Now he was panicking, and he couldn't breathe properly, his breaths coming in short gasps and splutters. JJ's going to die and it's going to be your fault, a voice taunted from deep in his head. He's going to die because you were too useless and weak to do anything about it. Somehow, that small voice gave him enough motivation to kick his throbbing legs, lifting both of them above the surface a good few inches.

"JJ please, please. Stay with me, J," he begged, smoothing wet hair out of JJ's eyes.

Pope wasn't sure he could live a life without JJ. When he tried to imagine it, all he saw was an empty, dark place of nothingness. Like an endless void of heartbreak. He'd known the boy since they were eleven, skipping stones together in the school pond. Well, Pope had been skipping stones. JJ had been throwing them and seeing which made the biggest splash. Thinking back to it, he reckons he might have fallen in love with JJ a bit that day. Even if he hadn't realised what it meant until years after. Even if he was still grasping at the concept now; still confused on when along the way JJ's smiles and touches began to mean more than anyone else’s. Every moment just merged into JJ and so it only made sense to Pope that it had been love at first sight for him. And so, a life without JJ meant a life without loving. And Pope had been loving JJ his whole life. He wasn't ready to let that go.

He kicked hard again, pushing them back up, but he could feel himself begin to tire, his grasp beginning to slip. Faintly, in the distance, he thought he could the start of an engine, and for a moment he let himself believe.

"John B's coming, okay?" he said, reassuring himself as much as the boy in his arms. "Please, J, just hold on. Just a little longer."

Pope could feel himself slipping away. The cold was beginning to get to him, and he knew he wouldn't be able to keep them both up much longer. He was tired and freezing and all he wanted was for JJ to be alright.

"You fucking idiot," he murmured, half whisper, half sob. He managed to lift his hand and cradle JJ's face. "Making me fall in love with you was the stupidest thing you've ever done."

They were both slowly sinking as Pope's kicks got weaker and sloppy, their faces barely above the surface. He tried to keep JJ up and in front of him, determined to keep him out of the water as much as possible, but it was a feeble attempt.

"I'm sorry." His voice was sluggish, and his vision was going hazy. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

As his fingers started to uncurl from around JJ's forearm, Pope knew that if JJ was going down, so would he. They'd done everything together, for as long as he could remember. Why not this too? And then, just as Pope was about to give up entirely, there were arms grabbing onto him, hauling him up out of the water. His hold on JJ broke and he struggled before realising that hands were on JJ as well, saving him. He collapsed onto the lifeboat and Kiara immediately crouched down next to him, helping him up into a sitting position.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" she pressed, concern etched in her face.

Pope almost felt bad as he pushed her out of the way, scrambling to where John B had hauled JJ on-board. John B moved back as Pope knelt, hands on JJ's shoulders, shaking him. He was dimly aware that he was crying.

"Wake up! Please. Please, JJ. Just wake up."

There was an excruciating long silence where no one moved, no one said anything, and then JJ made a spluttering noise, cracking open his eyes as he started coughing up seawater. Pope was pretty sure the tears were coming down heavier now. He didn't move away as JJ scanned his surroundings through lidded eyes, finally settling on Pope's hand on his shoulder. When he finally looked up at Pope, it felt like a weight was being lifted off his chest, the heavy pressure disappearing from where it had built up in his lungs.

"Hi," he said, voice coming out in a whisper.

JJ continued to stare at him, unmoving and silent, until, "'Sup."

Pope let out a watery, somewhat hysterical laugh, and he heard the others behind him do the same as he pushed JJ lightly. And then his body was betraying him, and he was reaching out, drawing JJ in and cradling him in his arms. He rested his chin on top of his head and held him tight, not sure he would ever let go again.

"Pope," JJ said after a moment, "You're going to break my ribs in a minute, man."

Loosening his hold, Pope felt a sudden rush of anger flood through him, and he shoved JJ again, harder this time. The blonde made a noise of surprise and he looked up with a confused expression.

"You almost drowned, you asshole!" Pope said, voice cracking - unable to keep out the emotion.

"I'm okay, Pope."

Pope let out a hysterical laugh. "No, you're not! You probably still have water in your lungs which means you could be dying from secondary drowning right now and we don't know it, you're lips are turning blue from the cold, you're shaking and coughing," he shrugged away from JJ's hand that had been reaching to him, continuing, "You've been hit in the head which could mean serious brain trauma, and you most definitely have a concussion. You're bleeding and cold and trembling and--"

"Pope!"

JJ's sudden exclamation startled him, and Pope quickly stopped his rambling. JJ lifted his hand again and this time Pope let it settle on his cheek, cupping his face gently.

"I'm okay," JJ reiterated, smiling reassuringly. "I promise."

And Pope believed him.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I... I would... I would love to see Jameson testing Jake some more... I mean the drabble of him demanding Jake let him do things for him for food was... good...

Your wish is my command, my love

CW: Noncon/dubcon (nightmare, semi-explicit), noncon/dubcon touching and kissing, internal dehumanization, flashbacks, survivor initiates spice and is rejected, conditioned behavior, trauma response, knives, blood

More salt-copper-sweetness than sugar and vanilla, now, Nanda’s voice is rough with his breath hot against the pet’s ear. It’s a warmth that covers him, inside and out. 

It presses against the underside of the pet’s skin, and he opens his mouth to pant, sure that the blood will come back out from within him when he does, that he’ll spill Nanda’s voice back at him, a waterfall of the touch and tension and twist leaving him to fall like an offering or a plea at Nanda’s feet.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you?” Nanda asks, licking at the shell of his ear, and the pet shivers, all his awareness stretched between the hot tongue on his skin and the cold blade of the knife, the flat side pressed against his ribcage on one side.

Each is a promise, and the pet wants both to be kept.

“I-I...” His own voice is weak, snap of twigs, rosemary boiled in water until the flavor is gone. He shifts, kneeling somewhere that he can’t remember, a small room in a small house on a small street in a town where everything is named for the glory of the man he saved her from. There’s a folded paper on a desk and if he can only look, he’ll know, he’ll know why and where and when. If he can only look-

“I thought it might b-be difficult-... ah!”

Nanda’s hand, rough palms and calloused fingers, curving around the back of his neck over his collar, jerking him closer, and he forgets the note and the room and the town and there is only Nanda, there has only ever been Nanda and the pain. There are metal cuffs around his wrists, his favorite ones that scratch him and sting perfectly for hours after they’re done, keeping his hands behind him, just touching the small of his back with his wrists and his knuckles brush even lower. 

“What might be difficult, pet?” 

Oh, there’s the sugar, the slow melody of vanilla and egg. He loves how his owner says what he is, he has to love it, he was told to love it and there is no love but this one, no life for him but the custard voice of the man who cuts him to ribbons until he begs for more.

The pet’s mouth opens to pant as the knife is turned, Nanda’s motions slow and controlled, and the bright light of perfect pain sparks inside him as the knife draws a line. His skin opens like silk for the blade, and he moans, dropping his head forward onto Nanda’s shoulder, listening to the sound of his laughter like a spoon cracking the crust on creme brulee. Sugar, and fire, and blood.

“That... that it’d be difficult... mmmmn, fuck-... what with y-you... being dead.”

Nanda goes silent, shifting one thigh between the pet’s legs, pressing kisses into the soft, short shorn hair with bald spots from Robert’s muzzle, humming softly in thought. His thumb rubs, ever so gently, at the pet’s nape while the knife slips a little deeper.

The pet whimpers, rocks, ruts helplessly against Nanda’s leg, turns his head enough to lock at the soft skin of Nanda’s neck the underside of his jaw. Blood trickles in a welcome hint of sensation down his side, over the flat space just inside his hip. 

“That wasn’t very nice of you,” Nanda murmurs, fingers twisting into his hair, pulling it up and back enough to see the pleasure-drunk haze in the pet’s eyes, watch him bite his lip to muffle his whimpers and moans as he rocks in an erratic rhythm against the expensive fucking tailored pants Nanda is wearing. “To leave me like that.”

“You... ah, mmmh... fuck, you left me.”

“Look at you.” Nanda’s voice is a whisper again. The knife dips, swirls lazily through his skin like an artist pulling color across canvas. It presses in just a little too deep (not deep enough) and the pet throws his head back, briefly breaking Nanda’s grip, back arching into a perfect bow as he cries out. Nanda’s hand pushes between his legs, then, too-warm and not warm enough, firm grip curving around him, stroking with the same lazy slowness that he has with the knife. “What is it like, to love the pain?”

The pet swallows, the knife digs and digs digs into soft skin along his belly, drops down to his thigh, blood wells up swift and absurdly brightly red there. 

“It’s... it’s hell,” He whispers. “I hate, ah, ah, ah-... I hate this.”

Nanda’s laugh breaks apart like a mirror, shatters into a thousand bites of sweet blood, drips over his mind like oil. If he was kneeling before, he’s on his knees again with his face pressed down against the cool concrete floor of the specialty room, legs spread, and his back is heat and blood and pain. 

Nanda’s hands are on his hips, gripped tightly enough to leave the bruises he will kiss later, as he murmurs, “We know all about coming back from the dead, here, don’t we, J-”

Jameson wakes up.

There’s no gasp, no dramatic sitting-up-in-bed like in the movies. In one moment, Nanda’s voice murmured a name he can’t remember as the pet’s body gave way to his demands and in the next his eyes are open to pitch-black darkness and the soft sound of his roommate’s breathing across the room.

The pet’s-...

Jameson’s body shudders, shivers roiling under his skin. He is hard and throbbing, and one of his hands brushes down over his ribs just to make sure his fingers don’t slip through slick blood. He breathes in through his nose, heart pounding, and looks across the room.

The barest hint of moonlight through the window gives him enough to see Allyn by. Their hair spreads light red and thick around them, the blue light of night turning it all slightly eerie and haunted. The rounded lines of their face, the soft relaxation of their mouth. He wishes Allyn would bite him hard enough to make it bleed, and then pour their rain-voice over him and tell him he’s good. He wants their hands on him. 

He wants someone’s hand on him.

He reaches under the pillow and grabs his collar, keeping his fingers over the buckle to muffle its clinking, and pulls it quickly on around his neck, choking on a sob, on his rage, on how badly he needs to be cut apart until he feels taken in ways he wants no one to ever take him again. 

The constriction is soothing. He’s safe.

He’s safe, here.

He’s so hard the slightest brush against his boxers feels like he could finish just like this, just from the memory of Nanda’s voice whispering are you ready for me, pet?

A different voice, sonorous and droning, are you ready to leave the darkness and come back into the light-

False memories. Stop. Leave me alone. He bites his lip until he feels blood break free, but it’s not enough.

Jameson pushes the blankets down - he’s pouring sweat, cold but it doesn’t make him feel any better - and sits up. His feet settle onto the cool smooth hardwood, as old as the house, and he stands, stumbling to the door. He thinks-

He thinks, water.

A drink of water.

Rub one out to the memory of a dead man, then water, and back to bed.

The bathroom door is open. The light is on. He almost stops, but he knows Nova never turns the bathroom light off if she uses it, she says it’s bad luck, he doesn’t ask but she says it anyway. Everyone thinks he fucking cares about their shit here. He doesn’t.

He just needs-

water-

touch-

to be bled by someone who tells him he is a good boy-

The big guy who owns this place is in the bathroom. Jameson stops in the doorway, staring at his back. Muscles ripple under mostly unmarked skin, the slight curve of waist and small of his back. Jameson pictures his own nails digging into the skin, the soft red welts he could leave there, lines to mark him. How Jake’s hands could leave him bruised in all the best places.

How easily he could force his legs apart or shove him up against a wall and hold him there, hands around his neck, thumbs digging into his jaw on either side. How Jake’s voice would sound when he moaned, when he buried himself inside, when the pain between them was perfect, like it had been with Nanda, like it can be again.

His heart is still pounding, thumping so loud he’s sure Jake can hear it, pouring adrenaline in his veins he tells himself is lust and not fear of how deep this runs.

He moves.

Jake’s eyes must have been closed, whatever he was doing, because he doesn’t see Jameson coming, and he jumps when his hand lays against his back, turning quickly around. He’s so tall, and strong, but there are no bruises from him on the pet’s-

on Jameson’s skin.

“Hey,” Jake says, voice low, river under rock, wearing what seems eternal slowly away. His eyes drop to the collar buckled tightly around Jameson’s neck, and he takes in a breath. There’s no surprise, there. He’s seen this before, they’ve seen so many pets, but none like me, Jameson thinks, almost desperately. Not like me. Not like this. “What do you-”

Jameson backs him into the sink and grabs his face in his hands, pulling him down, forcing their mouths together. It’s less a kiss than a challenge, and Jake makes a sound of muffled uncertainty before his hands slide up to Jameson’s shoulders, and he thinks, yes, make it hurt-

Jake shoves him back and away, holding him at arms’ length. “No.”

“I want you to fuck me,” Jameson snaps, trying to twist free of the grip, but Jake’s hands are strong. “I want you. I want this. Fuck me!” He shivers in pleasure as he pulls too hard and feels a burst of pain that goes right between his legs, his already nearly painful erection seeming to throb even harder. Being hurt hasn’t felt so good since Nanda died.

Since he walked away-

“I said no.” Jake shakes his head. There’s a stubble along his jaw, and Jameson hates Kauri suddenly for getting the redness on his skin where the stubble scratches even though Jameson never does, not anywhere, not on his inner thighs, nowhere at all. Hates how they smile at each other. Hates that Kauri doesn’t feel like this, not anymore, and Jameson can’t imagine it will never stop for him. “You know I won’t ever touch you that way.”

“I want you to!” His voice cracks, he’s desperate, and when Jake lets go, just for a second, Jameson grabs his hand and shoves it down, so Jake can feel how hard he is, rocks forward against the heat of Jake’s palm. “See? I want it. Please, fuck, please-” His eyes are wide with need, and fear - of himself and Jake and his mind and his broken betraying body. “Please, I’m good, please-”

Jake’s hand jerks back with a hiss and he moves away. “I. Will. Not. Fuck. You. Listen to me. Just talk to me for a second-... I need you take in a deep breath, I think you are reacting to a reminder of-”

“Oh, fuck off! If you won’t fuck me, get out of here so I can take care of my fucking s-self.”

God damn it, his voice is weakening, he feels like he’ll collapse under the weight of death he’s walked away from or caused by his own hand. He slumps down onto the ground, onto the bathmat next to the tub, and puts his hands over his face. 

There’s a pause, then Jake again. “Just-”

“Just fucking go!” His eyes burn bright and hot, his breath hitches. Still desire runs up through his nerves and won’t let him go. “Get out! I hate you! I should have stayed with h-him, I shouldn’t have left, I should have been good and good and good and good until, until, unt-til-”

There’s a whisper at the door, Jake’s low murmur in return. Jameson hears, tell everyone I’m handling it if they ask, stay out here. Make sure Allyn goes back to their room, just in case. 

Just in case what? In case he hurts them? In case-

He came in here so he wouldn’t. 

Oh, fuck, what if he hurts Allyn?

A pause, and then the click of the door closing. Jameson looks out from behind his fingers, only to find Jake slowly sliding down to sit with his back against the door. 

“Talk to me,” Jake says softly. “What happened? Did you have a nightmare?”

Jameson’s tears break free, then, burn down his cheeks like a volcano is pouring liquid fire into a city below and leaving wreckage and empty air in the shape of bodies behind. He chokes on a sob and curls up around himself, shaking his head, again and again. 

He can’t stop crying, and Jake doesn’t stop him, only waits. 

He nods.

“Okay.” Jake’s voice is low. Fresh water on his tongue, a snowmelt waterfall by the side of the road. He laughed, didn’t he? He held his hand out to feel the icy water slide through his fingers and sink into the thawing earth below.

It doesn’t snow here.

Why won’t his mind stop inventing memories that aren’t his?

“What happened in your dream? You don’t have to tell me, only if you want to.” Jake’s voice, low and calming, doesn’t stop Jameson’s tears but instead it opens him up to them, he cries the same way he bled, helpless to stop. 

“M-My-... my first-... I was w-w-with him-”

“Okay.” Jake hesitates, and then asks, softly, “Can you tell me what you were so afraid of that you put the collar on?”

Jameson doesn’t look up. He keeps crying. Eventually, though, he manages to answer.

“M-myself.”

---

@astrobly @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @moose-teeth @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @endless-whump @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @vickytokio @outofangband @downriver914 @justabitofwhump  @thehopelessopus @butwhatifyouwrite @yet-another-heathen @wildfaewhump

[mrpenguinpants-alter-ego]

Kaeya: Frostbite

This was suppose to be an offering to Albedo but I don’t know anything about him so I ended up writing him as a more laidback Kaeya. Halfway through I realized so that’s why my tags are like that. Here’s your 2k words of cake. 

I’m back :DD My first fic is on Albedo Kaeya tho haha. I don’t really want Albedo since I’m saving for Xiao (but if he wants to come I ain’t complaining, he’s vv pretty) so here is my offering birthday gift before 1.2. I saw the cold weather effect for 1.2 and my breath of the wild ptsd kicked in. Is it gay to hold hands with your significant other as an excuse to not freeze to death? 

btw I have a taglist. If you want to be added see pinned post for details.

---

Kaeya: Frostbite 

Trying to find a way into Inazuma didn’t seem likely considering the Electro archon’s distaste to visions and causing a region-wide lockdown. So the next option was to travel through Dragonspine. There had been a few disturbances noted from the Adventurer’s guild but due to the harsh climate of the snow-touched region, not many adventurers were willing to set foot near the mountain. Albedo, the Captain of the Investigation Team and Chief Alchemist, however, knew no bounds for research and discovering the “truth” of the world. This is probably why by the time you found out that one of the Favonius Captains was in Dragonspine that could serve as an excellent travel companion/guide, he had already departed for the mountain weeks ago. 

“Why don’t you ask Kaeya to take you?” Jean recommended, smiling gently at your wilting state, “Mondstadt has been quiet lately so it shouldn’t hurt to have two missing Captains for a short while.” 

Kaeya? Well, it was true that he didn’t have cavalry to command considering Grand Master Varka had taken all of them for an expedition. Would it be alright to do that? Wouldn’t the Fatui try and start something with the infamous captain away?

“If you’re worried about the Fatui it’s alright. With the event in Liyue and the role of the Fatui Harbinger, they’ve been very skittish to start anything” Lisa laughed from her spot beside Jean. It always scared you how Lisa seemed to be a mind reader. Did alchemist secretly pick it up as a hobby or was Lisa just that scary? Both were equally correct possibilities. 

“He’s starting to miss you because you’ve been away from Mondstadt for so long. Jean and I can take care of things should something happen. Go meet up with him before his mood sulks even further. Even I’m starting to feel bad” Lisa smiled, waving you off to go find said Calvary Captain. 

---

While a pyro user would be better to travel within hindsight, Diluc was busy with the winery and Amber wasn’t used to the harsh climate of Dragonspine. That left Kaeya, who had been to Dragonspine before having met with an owl. You weren’t entirely sure what significance the owl of Dragonspine had but knowing Kaeya, it could either be a wise creature or an ordinary snow owl. He was a cyro user and while that didn’t necessarily mean he was immune to the frost, he was at least in his element. You couldn’t ask Diluc to set the ground on fire and burn to death and besides, the climate was too cold for grass to burn. Plus Jean did recommend him plus you were interested in this “sulky” version of Kaeya. 

“Dragonspine? That’s quite a jump from the noisy harbour of Liyue. May I ask why the sudden change?” Kaeya smiled easily when you approached him. You were surprised he already knew what you wanted to ask but maybe Mondstadt had the same idea as Liyue, that all the walls talked. 

“Ah, I heard that there have been some unknown issues there so I wanted to see if I could help. Albedo already left so Jean recommended that I travel with you to meet him since you’ve been there before” you explained trying to stifle the laugh bubbling up as he pouted a bit.  

“So I’ve become Plan B then? I thought we had quite a close relationship and yet you’re asking me to accompany you to see another man” 

“Kaeyaa...” you sighed at him, so this is what Lisa meant by a sulky Kaeya. 

“I’m just teasing,” Kaeya ruffled your hair as he stood up from his chair, “Mondstadt’s been quite boring lately. Shall we depart?” 

---

While you knew that Dragonspine wouldn’t be an easy adventure after spending so much time in the comforting warm weather of Liyue, it wasn’t an easy experience to suddenly switch temperatures so 180. The snow made it hard for your boots to trek through and while the snowflakes were pretty they made your body temperature plummet. Your hands were cold as you started to slowly lag behind Kaeya busy trying to keep your hands warm. It wouldn’t be awhile before the next torch so you just needed to toughen it out. How the hell was Kaeya fine in this kind of weather?

“What's wrong? Can't handle the cold?” Kaeya called over his shoulder before pausing in his step studying your shivering form, “Are you alright?” 

“J-Just fine” you breathed out trying to warm your hands a bit more, “Really, I’m alright. Just a bit cold-

As if the cyro goddess herself was mocking you a strong gust of cold wind flew past you two, ripping the buttons off your coat and freezing yourself to your core. You squeaked as whatever warmth you had was chased out and replaced with the harsh bite of frost as it slowly crept up your sides before two fingerless gloves quickly closed your coat and embraced you to a warm chest

“Be careful, frostbite is dangerous” Kaeya teased even though his eyes shone with concern as he nudged your head under his chin, trying to block the wind with his back, his hair wiping in the wind tickling your face “It’ll damage your skin and tissue. Do you feel any pain? Numbness?” 

He unwrapped his white fur cloak from his shoulder and wrapped it around your neck. You’ve never really seen Kaeya express this kind of concern before. Did his cyro vision accidentally hurt him before? You don’t recall Mondstadt ever facing harsh winters. He paused before taking one of his gloves off, breathing into his hands to warm them, despite your protest. 

“Haha, sorry. My gloves aren’t the best to keep warm but hopefully, it’ll be enough,” he chuckled lightly as he slide your hands into them. His fingerless gloves might keep his palms warm but his fingers were cold as he cupped yours in his bare hands. But as a cyro user, he was probably used to it since that was how he channeled his vision. His blue-lilac eye shined in amusement as he flicked a small snowflake landing on your cheek. 

“Feeling any better?” he asked as you quickly shook your head. For how lax Kaeya seemed it was always a bit of whiplash to see him so concerned. He nodded quickly as the wind began to settle down before he slowly let go to slightly peel open your coat to see the damage. 

“Aren’t you cold? I swear I’m alright” you quickly assured but Kaeya ignored you as he brushed the side of your shirt up to see small snowflakes melting away. 

“It’s just snow, nothing too different from what I’m used to,” he muttered to himself as he brushed away the snowflakes on your waist, before wrapping you in your coat and re-buttoning your coat, “Are you cold anywhere else?”

“N-No” you answered quickly, this was not good for your heart. Where had this version of Kaeya come from? Was he always like this? “Well, I guess my hands are a bi-” 

He brought your hands up to his face as his cheeks warmed your hands as he ran his fingers over yours. Trying to transfer his heat to you as your cheeks started to flush redder and redder. He huffed amused under his breath which only served to make the red flush further down your neck. 

“Sorry, not a pyro user so this is the best I can do” he laughed lightly at your embarrassed expression. You knew it, he was teasing you this entire time. In sub-zero temperature where you both could die at any time. 

“I’m fine. Really” you pouted, at this point, you were sure you might be overheating. He chuckled at your flushed expression as you tried to unlatch your hands to cover your face as he leans his forehead against yours. 

“If you ever need me, let me know. Let's not make this a transaction relationship” he smiled smugly as you glared at him. Not that it was intimidating at all.  

“Fine, understood” you huffed as he ruffles your hair again before diving his cold fingers to the sides of your neck making your shriek as he dodged your failing arms. 

“Come on, let's get moving. We're not frozen in place, after all. As much dying here with you seems romantic, dying from the cold with a cyro vision is just embarrassing” he called over his shoulder smirked as he began walking away to the next waypoint. 

“Kaeya...”

“Sorry sorry”

---

You sighed in relief as you held your hands to the small torch just inside a cave. Away from the wind, away from the snow, and away from the cold. You could slowly feel the your muscles warm up and finally move without feeling that your bones would snap in half. You looked up at your surroundings, you never expected the giant mountain of Dragonspine to be so hollow with walkways and arches. It was really quite beautiful with all the blue ice hovering over you. Hopefully the wouldn’t break should you need to walk over them or worse, make you slip and fall. 

“Are you feeling better?” Kaeya asked as he eyed your bundled up form. His fur cloak was still wrapped tightly around your form as you breathed into your hands. He suspects that you forgotten about the cloak but he liked seeing you wear it so he never asked for it back. 

“Oh yes, so much better” you sighed out happily from your little warm bubble. 

“Just let me know if you’re still cold alright?” 

“Understood” you grinned, giving a small salute to the Captain. There’s a small pause as he nods again at you. You blink a couple times at him before Lisa’s words ring in your mind. You flush as you quickly wave at your cheeks trying to fan away the red. You shuffle a tiny bit on your feet before taking a quick look at Kaeya. 

“Um, Kaeya.”

“Yes?”

“My hands are a bit cold. So...”

“Yes?”

You pout at him. 

“Could you...”

“Could I?”

You glared at him as his chuckles slowly turned to laughter 

“Alright alright, don’t need to be so mad. Come here” 

You grinned as he held his hand out for you to take.   

[whumpmatsus]

tw // noises , loud noises : osomatsu afraid of an emergency alert system test

I went ahead and made it an actual emergency alert, because rainy days and Mondays and whatnot-

also it's worth noting I did look up Japan's emergency alert system, but I have no idea how J-Alert actually functions, I've just kind of assumed it's similar to the system that's in place where I live XD

Osomatsu, you've got some top-notch little brothers there!!

it's technically Allmatsu but like... big Sokudomatsu vibes tho :D

-

All things considered, a few days of bad weather keeping all the sextuplets cooped up in the house pretty much guarantees that they’re all going to be on edge.

They’re occasionally two seconds away from being at each other’s throats anyway, with all the challenges of being a big family in a small house. When the skies darken and open up with rain, though, it all becomes that much worse.

It means Ichimatsu can’t venture out to feed the stray cats, because being out in the cold rain for so long will probably lead to him getting sick. The comfort and stress relief that Karamatsu finds in playing guitar on the roof is vanished into thin air. Everyone has to keep Jyushimatsu from going outside since he’s half determined to play baseball even when it’s pouring. Choromatsu can’t hit the streets in search of a job or anything; too much chance of getting caught in a torrential downpour far from home. That’s also the reason Totty can’t make any plans with his friends, and counts his blessings that he doesn’t have any work shifts during these days.

All things being equal, Osomatsu is almost certainly the most laidback of their little group. Big brother tries his best to find solutions to keep all of them distracted, such as playing games or helping everyone settle on what TV show they should watch. Even though there are other places he’d rather be right now ― like the races or pachinko or maybe somewhere trying to pick up girls ― he can acknowledge that it’s kind of nice to spend time with his brothers when they can’t go outside.

The rain’s been coming down steadily today, a constant pattering that’s rhythmic and borderline soothing. It’s already put Ichimatsu and Totty to sleep, the two of them curled up under a blanket together. Before they fell asleep, Totty said something about the storm being “free ASMR”, whatever that means, and Ichimatsu mumbled an agreement as they cuddled in against each other.

To be completely honest, the energy in the house in general is pretty low. That might be best for a stormy day. Everyone can chill out and recharge their energy.

For the most part, Osomatsu is playing at being as responsible as he can handle today; gathering snacks, making tea, keeping kerosene in the heater so nobody gets too cold. Now that Totty and Ichimatsu are down for the count, everyone else is starting to get sleepy. Which, of course, means it’s time for a collective nap.

He takes a look around the room as he settles in on the couch himself. There’s Ichimatsu and Totty under their single blanket, seeming to be getting along just fine to share it. Choromatsu and Karamatsu are nuzzled against each other with their legs under the kotatsu, with Choromatsu’s head resting on Karamatsu’s shoulder and Karamatsu’s head resting on top of Choromatsu’s. And Jyushimatsu is… huddled up in a few blankets near the couch. For all intents and purposes, sleep has apparently claimed him, too.

Well, that’s good. Now that he’s made sure all his little brothers are comfortable, Osomatsu can doze off himself.

There’s a leftover blanket folded up at the end of the couch, so he pulls it up around himself and lies down with his head propped against one of the arms of the couch. He’d certainly like to be nestled up with one of the others, but he’s not gonna disturb them for that. They’re all in their own pairs, save for Jyushimatsu, and he’s not going to make the second youngest clamber up onto the couch just because Osomatsu wants some physical contact.

Besides, he can get that later if he wants. It’s going to be chilly and dreary all day, so more snuggles are inevitable. If he gets lucky, everyone will gravitate to one big cuddle puddle after dinner.

So he does his best to relax on the couch. He closes his eyes and tries to slow his breathing down a bit. The rain continues to pound in sheets against the window, and in heavy drops against the roof. There’s the soft rumbling of thunder that’s begun in the background, so low and powerful he can feel it. Somehow, it’s a comfort, something that whispers to him that he can go to sleep now.

Surrounded by his brothers and the lullaby of the storm outside, it’s easy to drift off.

Osomatsu is nearly sunk down into the beginnings of a deep sleep when suddenly, a blaring alarm goes off. And it’s not just one ― it sounds like several firing off in perfect, irritating harmony.

He can’t explain why he has the reaction he does. All he knows is that the abrupt, loud, obnoxious noise cuts through everything else and seems to hit the panic button in his head. A terrified yell rips itself from his throat, and he’s bolt upright. Then he’s on the floor, rolled onto Jyushimatsu and waking his younger brother up.

“HOLY MOLY!” And as soon as Jyushimatsu shouts, it’s enough to wake everyone else up. How anybody could sleep through that siren is beyond Osomatsu, though he’s pretty sure if anyone could, Jyushimatsu could. “Osomatsu-nii-san! You’re on top of me! What the heck is that?! Are we late for school???”

Totty groans as he’s woken up in the rudest way possible. “We’re too old for school, Jyushimatsu-nii-san. We’re adults.” He pulls his phone out, and his other hand reaches to pat Ichimatsu on the head. “Aaahnnmmm… it’s a weather alert.”

“Severe thunderstorm warning,” Choromatsu groans, having turned to glance at the TV. “Looks like it’s only gonna last till like 7 P.M., though.”

Karamatsu yawns and rubs at his eyes. “Should we get supplies together in case the power goes out?”

“The rest of you dumbasses can do that,” Ichimatsu huffs. “I’m not moving. As soon as the alerts stop making that shitty noise, I’m going back to sleep.”

“Well, I guess it falls to the three oldest, then.” Choromatsu stretches, giving a quiet, “Oof” when something in his back pops. “Osomatsu, do you wanna come help us… uh… Osomatsu?”

Strangely enough, the eldest brother is still incapacitated from the unexpected sounds, curled into a ball with his hands pressed over his ears. There might even be tears in his eyes, if one’s looking close enough.

Jyushimatsu runs a gentle hand, (or sleeve, as it were), over his big brother’s head, seeing as he’s the closest one. “I think something’s wrong with Osomatsu-nii-san. He’s all shivery and breathing funny.”

That’s really all it takes for Choromatsu to be over lightning-fast, knelt down next to the eldest. “Osomatsu? Osomatsu-nii-san, are you okay?” He frowns and tentatively tugs one of Osomatsu’s hands away from his ear. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Th… the noise…” His hand is trembling in his younger brother’s grip, tears welling up in his eyes. It still feels like his heart is trying to hammer its way out of his chest completely. He can’t really get a good breath in.

Choromatsu’s brow furrows and he looks back toward the TV, which Karamatsu scrambles to turn off in case it’s the prolonged sound causing the problem. “Did you… ahah… it startled you, right? I think it startled all of us…”

Ichimatsu pushes himself up a bit so he can turn his attention to his older brothers. “Looks like it did more than startle him. He’s about to jump out of his skin.”

“Ah…” Choromatsu quickly gathers Osomatsu into his arms, and is surprised with the fervor with which the eldest clings to him. It reminds them both of… being kids. “H-hey, Osomatsu-nii-san… it’s okay, it’s okay. It’s over now. Can you, um, try to follow my pattern of breathing here? That might help you calm down.”

Osomatsu nods and does his best, mirroring the way Choromatsu inhales for four seconds, holds the breath for seven, and exhales for eight. It takes several cycles, a few minutes’ worth of this, before he can feel himself starting to be a little less shaky. His heart is still pounding, but not as fast as it was a moment ago.

Choromatsu holds him carefully, rubbing Osomatsu’s back, until he can feel the tension beginning to fade from his brother’s muscles. That was… weird. It’s not like Osomatsu to get so anxious, especially not to the point that he’s crying. “There… is it better now?”

“Y… yeah…” Osomatsu raises a hand in an attempt to scrub the tears away. Man… how embarrassing. He’s the oldest and he’s over here acting like a baby because of a stupid weather alert. “Sorry… I, uh, don’t know where that came from, haha.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Neither of them make any move to get out of the position for a minute, then Choromatsu gradually pulls away once he can’t hear his older brother’s heart beating like a gong. “You… good?”

“Yeah… yeah, I think so.”

Ichimatsu stretches his arms above his head. “Damn. I guess we’re all awake. I hate those alert things… remember that one night when we were kids, and it came on just as we were getting ready for bed?”

Totty laughs, rolling over and propping his face up against one arm. “Yeah, I remember Choromatsu told me they were warning us a big storm was gonna come and wash all the baby brothers out to sea.”

“A-ah…” Choromatsu’s face goes red in an instant. He was such a little bastard as a child. “I’m sorry about that, Totty!”

He waves a hand. “Nah, it’s okay! ‘Cause remember what we did next?”

“Ah… I remember!” Karamatsu grins. “We all said we wouldn’t let the storm get you, and we wrapped you up in blankets and stood guard the whole night.”

“Until we fell asleep,” Jyushimatsu giggles. “I remember panicking when we woke up, but then we all high-fived each other when we saw Totty was still there in the morning!”

“W-we could do that again,” Choromatsu suggests, stealing a peek at their eldest who still appears to be tired. “Except this time…”

Totty’s up in a second. “Ooh, yeah!! Let’s cocoon Osomatsu-nii-san so the big, bad weather alerts can’t hurt him!”

Osomatsu feels like he should be having the hairs on the back of his neck stand up right about now. Instead, he feels sort of warm in a good way when everyone starts to wrap blankets around him. “Geez… you guys don’t need to do all this shit…”

“Well, no, but it’ll be fun.” Choromatsu gives him a smile and nestles in against his older brother’s side. “I’ll take first watch.”

Osomatsu snorts, but lets his head fall on top of Choromatsu’s anyway.

“Man… you guys are lame.”

Thank God for that, though.

[diaphragmjellyfish]

Miguel Diaz fluff alphabet

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Miguel loves your smile. He’s a funny guy and he thinks your smile lights up a room so he makes it his mission to make you laugh as much as possible. If you have some crooked teeth, he thinks it’s adorable. Also, looking at your smile makes him think about your lips which just makes him want to kiss you.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Yes, after he gets a stable job. He would love kids but he doesn’t want to be like his dad and end up abandoning his family so he would make extra sure he could support the child and you and makes a conscious effort to be there for his family no matter what. Asking about their day, being involved in their sports/clubs/hobbies, making snacks when they have friends over. He just wants to be the Cool Dad ™ and would probably try to teach them karate before they could even sit up.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

He loves to have you sit between his legs and lean back against his chest so he can wrap his arms around you and make sure you’re always safe and warm. It’s the perfect position for movies, video games, deep conversations, baths. He will also often come up behind you at a party and hold you like this if someone is hitting on you or if you look uncomfortable or bored. He can whisper little jokes in your ear or kiss you on the cheek.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

He loves fun dates. You both have always found fancy dinner dates really awkward. He likes something where you guys can move around, do activities, and just let loose. The go-to’s are usually mini golf, the arcade, the zoo, or just a nice picnic in the park. He often gets you little gifts before dates, though, like flowers, a stuffed animal, or a cool rock he found. His Yaya taught him never to show up for a date empty handed. And he’s a total gentleman, never making you uncomfortable or rushing things. Miguel keeps his hands to himself unless instructed otherwise.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)

You are my sunshine. As cheesy as it is, Miguel sees you as the shining light in his life. You make everything better, whether that’s an injury, a bad day at school, or losing a fight at training. He knows he can always go to you and be distracted by your beautiful smile.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Miguel first knew he was in love with you when you met his family for the first time. They invited you over for dinner one night and he told you his Yaya didn’t speak much english, so you asked him to teach you some spanish so you could talk with her. It wasn’t perfect, you made lots of grammar mistakes and really only said a couple sentences to her, but the effort you made combined with the smile on Yaya’s face made him fall absolutely head-over-heels.

If you already speak spanish, it would be seeing you talk with his Yaya and joke around with her over dinner.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

The most gentle boy on the face of the Earth. Like I said earlier, Miguel keeps his hands to himself unless you tell him otherwise. The first time you guys kiss, he barely moves a muscle. You had to grab his hands and put them on your waist. Even now, when he’s teaching you karate, he refuses to hit or grab you, so you honestly don’t really learn anything lol and if you’re sick or sleeping, he’s like a feather, so scared to disturb you. It’s like touching a kitten honestly

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

All. The. Time. He’s not too big on PDA, except for hand-holding. This is how he lets everyone know you’re taken without seeming possessive or gross. Miguel will grab your hand at the mall, at school, while y’all are cuddling, at the beach, literally whenever you’re in arm’s reach from him, he’s holding your hand.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

Miguel’s first impression of you is that you’re this bright ray of sunshine. He’s drawn to you like a magnet. Your eyes, your smile, your laugh! And when he finally works up the nerve to say hi (Strike first!) he thinks his heart might actually melt. When you actually laugh at the joke he makes and hold out your hand to introduce yourself, he turns bright red and can barely speak omfg this poor boy. But luckily you think it’s sweet and keep talking to him.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

He did at first, we’ve all seen how he acts with Sam and Robby, but you lay down the law. You have to tell him that it’s not cool, it makes people uncomfy, and then he finally starts to work on it. Now he’s better. He still feels jealous sometimes, but he trusts you and can control himself a bit more.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

So your first kiss. You were giving him The Look for like 10 minutes straight and he never made a move. He just stared at you. So you had to be the first one to actually lean in, but once you did, he met you halfway. His kisses match his personality. Sweet, gentle, and goofy, but with a more dominant, aggressive side if you know how to bring it out ;)

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

He did. After you had dinner with his family and he realized he loved you, he told you almost immediately. This boy just wears his heart on his sleeve. He was walking you home and when you got to your house and turned around to kiss him goodnight, he had a funny look on his face. When you asked him what was wrong he kind of went ILOVEYOU! Really fast and you had to make him say it again slower because you thought he had a stroke or smth lmaooo but once he took a deep breath and said it more clearly, you jumped on him and kissed his whole face and said it back a hundred times.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

When he first introduced you to Sensei Lawrence. He thought Sensei was gonna be super mean and make fun of you, but turns out you guys had a lot in common. You loved 80’s rock music, and responded to his sass with even more sass. Johnny almost couldn’t believe Miguel was able to get such a cool babe. You guys all had lunch after taking a tour of the dojo, and it was a super fun day! You all drove around in Johnny’s car with the windows down listening to Guns ‘n Roses.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Miguel spoils you in his own little way. His family isn’t as fortunate as others, but he still finds ways to make you feel special. Instead of a diamond necklace, he gives you a cool rock he found outside and cleaned up. Instead of taking you to expensive restaurants, he spends all day cooking with Yaya to make a nice picnic for you guys to have on the beach. And he saves up to buy you nice gifts for your birthday or anniversary.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Rose gold. You’re so beautiful to him and have this natural charm that everyone falls for. You’re so radiant and yet soft and unique. He just love love loves you.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Sweety, sweetheart, baby, gorgeous, and Princess during more intimate moments.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

80’s rock music. He learns to love it through Sensei Lawrence. He even saves up to buy a record player so he can feel more connected to the past.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Build blanket forts, cuddle, bake cookies, he might even let you put makeup on him if you ask nice.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Humor. He loves cracking jokes and lightening the mood. If you’re ever feeling down you know you can go to him and he will turn that frown upside down in mere minutes. Honestly even just being in his presence makes you happier. He cheers himself up by working out, taking some alone time to get his feelings out, and then going out with some friends or with you.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Umm, karate! Duh lol the boy is obsessed with it. Also superhero movies, video games, his day, he’s honestly kind of a rambler. He can talk about anything and everything if he’s nervous enough. Let’s not forget the gas station scene in season 1…

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

You, dark rooms, white noise, puppies, linen scented candles, his mom’s cooking.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

His new muscles. Ever since joining Cobra Kai, he’s gotten pretty ripped and now it’s a struggle to get him to keep his shirt on. He worked hard for that body, he wants people to see how good he looks!

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

After college, he takes you on a hike up to this ridge overlooking a lake. It’s fall, the leaves are changing colors, and there’s no one around. You guys have been holding hands the whole time, but his hand is super sweaty even though it’s like 50 degrees out. You guys finally get to the top of the ridge and he grabs both your hands and tells you all the things he loves about you. This boy basically recites your whole love story, and as soon as he sticks his hand in his pocket you know what’s going on. He barely even got the box out of his pocket before you were jumping on him screaming Yes! You guys fell to the ground and he stopped you so he could officially get the words out. You were both crying, it was very beautiful.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

More Than Words by Extreme. You guys dance to this at your wedding.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Absolutely. Y’all marry pretty young, like right out of college. He knew you were gonna get married on the first date.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Iguana. He thinks they’re like little dinosaurs! He would name it Wade because we know he loves Deadpool.

[getitinbusan]

The Studio Sessions Part 5 Smut

It's Min Yoongi's birthday and you're ready to give him whatever he wants. When he makes a sarcastic wish while blowing out the candles he didn't think you'd take it seriously. But he's glad you did.

When word spreads about these special "Studio Sessions" everyone wants to collaborate. A chaptered 0T7 smut. 

These stand alone but you won't want to miss reading all of them!

The Collaborators so far:

Taehyung

Jimin

J-Hope & Joon

Jin

The Jungkook Collaboration

You kissed Yoongi's cheek, "I'm going to go grab a shower and some clothes that don't have cum all over them."

He swatted your ass as you stood up, "Shall I summon the Golden Maknae?"

You scrunched your face in thought, "I'm not sure how we should approach him Yoongs, he's a bit of a scared rabbit." 

Yoongi nodded thinking the same thing, in many ways Jungkook was just a kid trapped in a man's body. 

"I'll figure it out, in the meantime you've got about ½ an hour of solid uninterrupted work time." You ruffled his hair, "I'll be back!"

_______________________________

Freshly scrubbed you made your way back to the Genius Lab. Just about to turn the corner you stopped, Jungkook, head down, was pacing back and forth in front of the door. 

When he noticed he was no longer alone his eyes locked on to you, his expression serious.

You kissed his cheek, it was smooth and his skin smelt like fresh apricots. "Hey, Kookie, what's up? Isn't Yoongi answering the door?"

Not skipping a beat he abruptly asked, "Don't you want to fuck me Noona?" 

"Oh," You stepped back, "what's going on here Guk?"

His ears went red, "Taehyung, he told me this morning about….what you guys did. Then Jimin, then Joon and Hobi and I saw Jin Hyung leave about half an hour ago smiling stupidly...but nobody called me."

"So you've been standing here wondering why you weren't invited?" 

He nodded, "I've been waiting for my turn all day, I even rubbed one out so I'd last longer for you." Reaching out he touched the fuzzy sweater that covered your arm.

So much for a scared rabbit.

"You placed your hands on his chest, "Guk, you were the prize. I saved you for last because I wanted you the most."

Looking up at him, small smiles graced both your faces as the distance between your lips lessened to nothing. It started soft and passionate but quickly moved to lustful and needy.

"I've thought of a million different ways to get you off Noona, how many times am I allowed to make you cum?" 

Your hands were wrapped in his hair and your breath was ragged, "Yes..." 

He laughed, "Are you that far gone already?" He shoved his leg between yours, knee slightly bent and grabbed your hips.

As your tongues explored each other's mouths he guided you up and down his thigh. You couldn't help but moan out loud as your clit found friction on his flexed muscle.

Dragging his lips to your collarbone he sucked hard, "Does all of you taste this good Noona?

Your mind was blank as you were quickly unravelling, no thought to the Big Hit security cameras catching you humping Kookie's leg in the hallway. He, however, knowing someone was watching, turned and smiled towards them.

"Crying out as you came, he held your body up against his. Turning the handle you both stumbled mouths attached into the studio.

Jungkook swung you over to the couch and grabbed at your legs to remove your pants. 

"Don't mind me I guess?" Yoongi frowned from his chair.

"So no problems getting him here huh Y/N?" 

Jungkook looked towards him, "Shit, is this okay?" 

"Since I already heard her cumming in the hallway it might be a little late for permissions."

He tongued the inside of his cheek, "I mean, both of you have been fantasizing about this since day one so... just fuck and get it over with." 

You knew he wasn't happy, but until he called it, you weren't about to stop. 

Jungkook got back to removing your pants. He either didn't notice or didn't care that he'd agitated your boyfriend.

Sucking two fingers he pushed your now bare legs apart and slid them inside you. 

He moaned at the sight, "You're so beautiful Noona, look at how they slide right in.

Putting in a third he cupped his hand. Rocking it quickly, his fingers hit your g spot, palm rubbing your clit simultaneously. He was already making your brain mush and his dick hadn't even left his pants.

As his right hand worked tirelessly to get you to orgasm number two. His left hand raised your shirt and he grinned devilishly, "No bra?"

He squeezed the base of your breast and latched his mouth onto your hardened nipple. Every nerve ending in your body was overcome with pleasure as he tugged it between his lips.  

Yoongi turned his chair to watch, you were unusually quiet except for the heavy breathing. "You okay babe?" He asked seriously.

"Uh-huh, yes...oh my god," barely able to form thoughts let alone words you were having an out of body experience.

He stared at your face, even screwed up in pleasure you were still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.  Sensing his gaze you forced your eyes open, both of you locked onto each other as Jungkook made you squirt all over the couch. 

The Maknae sat back looking in amazement at the mess he just helped create, "I... wow, I didn't think that..shit."

His breathing was heavy and his cock strained against his jeans but he still wasn't ready to please himself. "Can I lick you now?" 

"Jesus Christ you're a fucking machine Jungkook, you're making the rest of us look bad." 

He smiled his bunny grin at Yoongi's praise and immediately got to work between your legs.  

Yoongi came over and kissed you as Guk's tongue went on exploring. "I'm going upstairs. You don't need me here for this one." 

"Wait, what..why? Do you want us to stop?" I don't want this if you don't baby…" Jungkook froze unsure of what to do. 

Yoongi tenderly touched your cheek, "I'm okay, " he motioned to Guk, "this is okay. I trust you both."

Your mouth was open, yet you felt speechless. "Yoongi...I love you…" 

"I know baby, I love you too."

He patted Guk on the shoulder, take care of my girl."

The door closing behind him you found yourself alone with Jungkook.

"Are you okay Noona?"

You hesitated for a moment but made your mind up fast, "Ask me after you make me cum again Kookie."

Smiling so hard his dimples appeared and your heart melted. 

Resting his hand on your pubic mound he pulled the skin taught making your clit stand at attention. He stared at you as he teased it with just the pointed tip of his tongue.

Your body jumped, "It's too much Kookie!"

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked while he kept naughtily flicking it.

"God, no, don't stop...just…"

He switched to soft sloppy sucks and you were done. Convulsing around nothing you came again, the couch beneath you was soaked. 

Righting himself, he motioned for your hand, "Stand up."

He grabbed the blanket that had been thrown over the chair and placed it on the floor. Lifting his sweatshirt over his head he folded it into a makeshift pillow and set it on the blanket. 

You couldn't help but stare at his body. Lean muscle, taut, tan skin and tattoos that were rarely displayed were on full view before you. 

"When did you do all this growing up?"

You placed your hand on his chest and he put his over top, "Not soon enough or you would have been mine." 

"You shouldn't say things like that Guk, you might make me fall in love with you."

You gave his rock hard nipples a teasing little pinch and he moaned.

"Can you play with them a little Noona?"

You felt your walls pulse at his request, what wouldn't you do for him right now? 

Replacing your fingers with your mouth you ran your tongue over them, goosebumps covered his body as you suckled.

Letting your hand wander lower, his jeans still on, you couldn't take another minute of anticipation.

Grabbing his sweatshirt to kneel on, you kissed your way down his abs. Splaying your fingers over his soft pubic trail you unhitched his button as your heart raced.

Sliding the zipper down slowly, revealed his lack of underwear. He was still painfully tucked in as you reached in to release him.

Impatiently he pushed the denim down just enough that he freed himself into your waiting hand. "How are you so perfect Jungkook?"

He felt heavy in your mouth, big and smooth as your lips slid up and down his cock. Holding your hair back he watched. No pushing or pulling he just stood enjoying the feeling of your mouth finally wrapped around him.

Working him over hand and mouth in tandem he got more vocal. "So good, oh my god, Noona."

His balls were getting tighter in your palm and you knew he was almost there. You pulled him out of your mouth and kept stroking, "Are you going to cum for me Kookie?"

His head was back and his eyes were closed as he slowly rocked himself into your strokes. He moaned, "No I want to be inside you Noona," he pulled away, his cock so hard it stuck straight out. 

Laying back you opened your legs for him. "Do I need a condom?" He asked as he stroked himself.

You shook your head no.

"You're gonna let me cum in you?"

God he was so sweet, you nodded and smiled.

He got quiet, "I can't believe I can finally have you, I've wanted this for so long." Laying over you he was slow and gentle, almost afraid.

"I want you so badly Jungkook, please…"

He held your hips as he entered you, taking long deep strokes you felt like you could black out in ecstasy. 

"You feel so good I'm not gonna last," he was so wrecked. 

"Jungkook you've taken such good care of me tonight, let me ride you."

Wrapping his arms around you he rolled you on top. You held still looking down at him.

Fuck, you were fucked. There were feelings here, you knew it, he knew it.

Deciding the only way out was through, you smiled and went hard.

Grinding yourself onto his cock he moaned beautifully underneath you as your walls squeezed him.

Cumming for the fourth time you were getting tired and sloppy. Your hands were pressed to his chest holding you upright as your hips clapped together.

He began fucking himself furiously into you, chasing his orgasm. His closed eyes leaked out tears as he came hard shooting deep inside you.

"I can't believe you just let me do that to you."

_______________________________

Laying cuddled up beside him, he buried his face in your neck and whispered quietly, "Was it ok Noona? Was I worth waiting for?"

"I can't believe you'd even have to ask that Jungkook, nobodies ever made me feel that good."

He smiled shyly, "I'm glad. I was afraid I wouldn't be good my first time."

You sat upright absolutely stunned at his revelation. "That was your first...and you gave yourself to me?" 

He smiled that little boy smile that now seemed so contradictory, "I've always loved you Y/N."

Your heart swelled and broke all at once. "Jungkook, was I worth waiting for?" 

His strong arms pulled you closer and he kissed your lips, "So worth waiting for."

Laying in silence you couldn't stop thinking about being his first. You were perplexed that his skill level didn't match his experience. Then it dawned on you.

"Jungkook?"

He nodded

"How much fucking porn do you watch?"

_______________________________

Yoongi

[jettingtothemoon]

Save You; chapter 9

➳ pairing: hector x witch|reader x alucard ➳ genre: fantasy, angst, fluff ➳ warnings: violence, swearing, smut, mentions of rape, past slavery, spoilers for seasons 1 thorough 3. ➳ word count: 2099 ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ summary: In which y/n and Hector continue to flee from the council of sisters, finding refuge among an unlikely acquaintance with fresh scars and a cold personality. ➳ Part two of, ’Rescue You’.  ➳ tags: @afierayeehaww​

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09,

Three

The rest of the day felt like years, hours dragging on. Surprisingly, although the three of you- particularly Hector -were a little more awkward than usual, none of you brought up what you spoke of again. It was business as usual. Well, almost.

There was a feeling in your stomach, an excitement, a fear, a feeling you were sure the others were also experiencing. Butterflies that just wouldn't go away. Worry that this might end badly. Would Adrian really be okay? Would this only make things weird between the three of you? That was what you were worried about.

Of course, however, nighttime soon arrived.

You and Hector had headed up before Adrian, allowing him a moment to himself, after tucking Alexander into bed, in order to decide whether he would be joining you or not. You dressed for bed, in your nightgowns as you waited for him, wondering if he really was going to come.

When the door quietly opened and his almost hesitant footsteps walked in, closing the door just as quietly after, you both sat up.

Adrian met your eyes, smiling softly as he took in a deep breath and walked over to accompany you on the bed. He crawled up from the end, sitting on his knees in front of the two of you. Hector reached out for his hand, squeezing it reassuringly in his own whilst you placed a gentle hand against his cheek.

"Are you sure about this?"

He only smiled and brought up his hand to cup your own, fingers delicately wrapping around it as he turned his head to press his soft lips against it.

"I am."

When his lips left your hand, his attention turned to Hector. He reached out, running his fingers through Hector's hair. He just closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. Your hand was soon on Adrian's cheek again, turning his face towards you so that you could kiss him, pulling him closer to the two of you.

For a while, it was just like this. Gentle touches and tender kisses shared between the three of you. The pace was slow, comfortable. But, as the minutes passed, you all began to grow more eager to move on.

It was Hector who first pulled at Adrian's nightgown, helping him remove it whilst you took off your own.

When Adrian said that he had scars all over his body, you hadn't imagined this. They were everywhere. A dark red burnt into his skin, a permanent mark of all the horrors he had been through. You ran your hand over them, starting with the one from his father. He looked away, as if ashamed of them. You took his hand again as the three of you moved, allowing Adrian to lie down against the bed. He sucked in a breath when your lips delicately began to kiss the scars along his arm, slowly working your way up to his shoulder.

"You're so beautiful." You whispered into his ear before kissing him again.

Hector then took over, his hand taking Adrian's most vulnerable organ in his hand. Adrian hissed, eyes closing as Hector began to stroke him whilst kissing along his torso, working his way down to his stomach.

His first moan was such a pleasant sound. So rich and sweet, like a fine dessert wine. It only made both you and Hector want to hear so many more.

It wasn't long before Hector was pleasuring Adrian with his mouth, sucking his already hardened cock with such tenderness. Nothing about this was going to be rough or rushed. You were going to take your time. To enjoy this for as long as you could but also to explore those feelings you were having.

Whilst Hector continued to work on Adrian's lower half, you found yourself kissing him again. Swallowing his little moans and groans for a moment before you lips travelled along his jaw and down onto his neck. From there, you continued to leave little open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone and torso until your mouth was around his nipple, tongue rolling over it before your teeth lightly teased the sensitive skin.

Adrian hummed in pleasure, throwing his head back against the pillow as he bit into his bottom lip.

"H- Hector." He whined, hands carefully pulling the other man off of him before he could go too far and back up so that their lips could meet again.

As the two of them kissed, you made your way between Adrian's legs. You pressed your lips to his thigh, softly kissing the skin there. Whilst your hand slowly ran up and down his leg, fingers lightly smoothing over his scars, you began to suck and bite little marks into his pale skin.

Hector was the one to gather your attention, his hand on your shoulder as he led you to trade places with Adrian. Now you were the one lying beneath them, reaching up to place a hand on each of their cheeks as they smiled down at you. Hector kissed your hand and then his lips began to travel down your arm, his soft lips making sure to savour every inch of your skin. All the while, Adrian's head dived down to your chest.

Never did you think you would ever lie with two men at once and feel such love and care in each and every touch. And yet, that was exactly what this was. Being with them, both of them, brought you a feeling of joy you had never felt before. You loved Hector and he loved you but there was a chance you both loved Adrian too. Or, that you could grow to love him in the near future.

Now Adrian's teeth were on your nipple, being careful not to use his fangs as he lightly bit down and tugged just was you were doing to him only moments ago. Hector soon joined him, his lips tending to your other breast once he was finished with your arm. The feeling alone had your toes curling as you hands ran through their hair. On one side, long, silky golden locks ran elegantly through for fingers. On the other, shorter, wavy silver strands. There was a comfort it in, their hair. A comfort in touching it, running your fingers through it.

You could no longer hold back your voice, allowing moans to slip from your lips as Hector's fingers travelled down, soon pushing into you. With a gasp, your grip on their hair tightened ever so slightly, not enough to pull but enough for them to notice.

Adrian came back, kissing you again. Your tongue was soon in his mouth and his in yours, swirling about as the kiss deepened. The feeling of his fangs occasionally scraping against your tongue was unexpectedly pleasant, it had a danger to it and yet, you never felt any less than safe and comfortable.

When he pulled away, Hector was retracting his fingers from within you, clearly now ready for something more.

"How are we going to do this?" Adrian questioned, kissing your forehead affectionately before turning to Hector for answers.

The answer he received, however, was one neither you nor he had seen coming. Hector simply took his fingers, that were now coated with your own natural lubrication, and began to push one into himself. You and Adrian jumped into worry the moment his face scrunched up in something that wasn't quite pain, and were by his side in seconds.

"You don't have to do that." Adrian reassured but Hector didn't stop, instead, he just rested his head against Adrian's shoulder.

When he put in another, he groaned, "I- I want to."

Adrian looked down at him so softly, wrapping an arm around him before turning his head back to you. You simply offered him a gentle smile and began rubbing soothing circles into Hector's back. When he was finished, or had simply decided it was enough, he pulled his fingers from himself and kissed you.

Soon, he had guided you back to your position on the bed so that you were lying beneath him. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb lightly stroking over your skin as he lined himself up with you. You nodded and he pushed into you with a groan but, before moving, he turned to Adrian and reached out for him to come closer.

Adrian hesitantly approached, taking Hector's hand as he reached the two of you.

"Don't act so clueless, you've laid with a man before." Hector chuckled, not bothering to hide the way his cheeks blushed at his own words.

"But I've never..."

Before he could finish his sentence, he was already pushing himself into Hector, who's face once again turned to one of discomfort. 

Adrian kissed his shoulder, "Does it hurt?"

"J- Just uncomfortable." Hector admitted, opening his eyes to look down at you from where you were beneath him.

You smiled up at him, comforting him with a kiss.

After a quiet moment of adjusting, Hector spoke again, "Y- You can move now."

And so, he did. As Adrian began to roll his hips into Hector, the latter consequently rolled his hips into you. The three of you let out sounds of pleasure. Your arms wrapped around Hector's shoulders whilst his hands gripped the sheets beside you. Adrian's hand soon found it's way to Hector's, their fingers twining together whilst the blonde kissed your hand.

This feeling was like one you had never felt before. Both physically and emotionally. You and Adrian felt good. This felt good. But Hector, he was clearly experiencing something different altogether.

From the looks of it he couldn't muster any words, only moans as the three of you rocked back and forth together. Tears had gathered in the corner of his eyes but it was clear they weren't tears of pain.

You kissed him whilst Adrian peppered kisses across his back, lips brushing against his honeyed skin and toned muscles.

"I'm going to- to-"

You quietened Hector with a kiss, letting him know that it was okay for him to finish inside you. A few more of those gentle thrusts and he came, spilling his load into you as he moaned into your mouth. Not even seconds later, Adrian pulled out and came over Hector's back, your orgasm followed soon after.

The three of you collapsed onto the bed, lying beside each other and panting heavily. Hector remained between you, lying on his front so not to dirty the sheets any further with what was on his back.

"Thank you." Adrian was the first to speak, smiling at the two of you as he did so.

You simply smiled back, knowing now that whatever this was between the three of you was something real. It was also something none of you had ever expected to happen, especially when you once knew him all those years ago.

When you woke up the next day, you were pleased to see the two naked men lying beside you. Hector was snuggled up into Adrian's chest, you had an arm hanging over the pair of them. Legs tangled together, bodies warming each other. This was cosy, it was comfortable and most of all, it was how you wanted to spend the rest of your mornings until the day you died.

Adrian was the next to wake, looking at you with a smile and then down at Hector. He began to run his slender fingers through Hector's hair, gentle enough so not to wake him. The two of you just silently lied there, allowing Hector to sleep just a little while longer since it was clear that last night had truly worn him out.

When he too finally awoke with a sleepy smile, Adrian kissed his forehead before climbing out of bed.

"You two stay here, I'll go prepare breakfast."

You shook your head, "We'll all go prepare breakfast, together."

Your statement may have been true about the matter at hand but it was clear to all of you what the true meaning behind it was. You were going to do things together from now on. You were going to stay together. The three of you, like this. This was the new normal, this was what you wanted. From the way they both looked at you with such love in their eyes, you knew that they both wanted this too.

"Very well, we shall all go make breakfast. But first, perhaps a bath?"

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 

[foxie-roxie]

why rayllum is a MASTERPIECE part 3

*RUBS MY CLAWS TOGETHER* IT IS SEASON 3 TIME BITCHES AND H O L Y S H I T I LOVE THIS SEASON SO MUCH

i even rewatched it for this!

this time i’ll try to have SOME order, and go by episode. this will however still include unintelligible screaming

1. DAMN THESE FUCKERS BE PINING MORE THAN A PINE TREE FOREST!

first off, affectionate eye rolling, nose boop, and head bonk is the best thing.

second, IF SOMEONE SAYS THAT DURING WHEN CALLUM WAS HELPING RAYLA PUT ON HIS SCARF AND THEY J STARED AT EACHOTHER FOR A BIT BEFORE RAYLA TURNED AWAY THAT HE WAS N O T LOST IN HER EYES? they’re wrong. this is fact now.

third, their teamwork and decision making is excellent. they agree to try and sneak past sol regem, and when that fails try talking to him and then decide to simply trick his senses with the scarf. and instead of rayla shooting down callum’s “smelltriloquism” idea, she simply adds onto it! LOVE HEALTHY FRIENDSHIPS

“i think it’s good luck!” YES IT IS RAY THAT’S UR BOYFRIENDS SCARF

also, here you go. you’re welcome.

2. STILL PINING. GOD DAMN.

first, CALLUM BEING SO EXCITED BY ALL THE MAGIC IN XADIA IS S O CUTE! MY SON. this might turn into an overrall review of s3. o well

second. FLUSTERED RAYLA AND FLUSTERED CALLUM. Y E S

third, THE ADORABURR FIELD! their smiles were so fond and soft and A. they make me cry of joy. 

an overall look on it, i like how this episode really shows their feelings clearly. no “will they won’t they”, at least for rayla. it’s clear she has feelings.

3. AH FUCK. ANGST.

first i love how when rayla mentions that she’s excited and happy but also terrified, callum tries to comfort her. good boi. best boi.

second, elf callum. i love that scene so much even if the second-hand embarrassment kills me, and rayla is j like “why the fuck do i love you. im gonna kill him.”

third, DANCE! callum not being rude and saying her home is “modest” before rayla explains it’s an illusion, his BLUSH WHEN SHE HELPS HIM, and the softness in general. rayla’s excitement that she’s home and talks abt that she can show callum where she went to school, the best moonberry surprise place, until...

fourth, AH FUCK. A N G S T T I M E. rayla being crest-fallen before callum says that it must’ve been a mistake, and she realizes that ethari would probably understand!

and then CONFIRMED GAYS. YES.

rayla realizing ethari ghosted her too and then callum GOING O F F. he angy and when rayla runs out callum IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWS (like in a later episode) and comforts her again.

when ethari comes down and breaks the spell and says to callum “trees to meet you too” and rayla’s like “don’t encourage him”

also callum trying to get on the shadowpaw and ethari being Concerned is AMAZING. concerned dad content

i’ll talk more about ezran/ruthari/the dark magic trio in a later ted talk

4. H E R E W E G O

first, rayla clearly being sad and callum picking up on that quickly (he even seems to be almost falling on purpose, perhaps to make her smile?) and asking if she’s ok before being shot down by rayla insisting she is fine. GOD DAMN. THAT HURTS.

second, their interaction with nyx is so amazing. rayla being protective of zym and callum being a DORK is awesome, but also their decision making.

after rayla reluctantly decides that they can go see how nyx could get them across the desert so quickly, they see the ambler and then their reasoning is amazing.

“what do you think?”

“the dragon queen is dying.” and then i forget the rest of the exact quote but they give a subtle nod to eachother. they make their decisions TOGETHER. AS A TEAM. AND THAT’S ON HEALTHY FRIENDSHIPS X2!

third, callum continuing to gently press for rayla to express her emotions. he doesn’t pressure her, but seems to simply let her know that if she needs to talk (when she insists she’s fine), he is there. 

four, MORE FLUSTERED RAYLLUM. YES. TY NYX but also fuck u for taking zym but also ur hot- A N Y W A Y

five. OOOOOOH. MY FAVORITE SCENE.

rayla’s crying and callum tries to reassure her. nyx is plotting, while rayla runs away and callum follows. Y E S.

rayla talks about how there’s nobody left that cares about her and she lost everything.. and then the SPEECH. i have this speech memorized i’ve watched this scene so many times

"JUST SHUT UP, YOU'RE TALKING CRAZY. JUST, LISTEN TO ME. YOU'RE TOO GOOD TO FEEL THIS BAD ABOUT YOURSELF. I KNOW THAT, AND YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT. YOU HAVE TRUE COURAGE, AND A BIG HEART! I'VE SEEN YOU GET KNOCKED DOWN SO MANY TIMES AND EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. YOU GET UP AGAIN. THAT'S REAL STRENGTH. AND.. AND YOU'RE TEN TIMES FUNNIER THAN ANY HUMAN I KNOW! chuckle SEE? SEE YOU KNOW YOU'RE AMAZING. YOU'RE SMART AND FAST AND BEAUTIFUL. RAYLA YOU'RE THE MOST AMAZING PERSON I'VE EVER MET."

LOVE THEMMM

and then rayla kisses him and that’s all that happened. callum was not a dumbass. right? RIGHT???

5. MY FAVORITE EPISODE!

first, rayla saving callum from the soulfang serpents and callum helping her get up is AMAZING, LOVE THAT.

second, callum tryna get a good position and rayla j saying to hold onto her and callum GETTING FLUSTERED. BOY IS PINING also he didn’t have to hold her that close.

“I DON’T THINK OF HER THAT WAY” “YOU AND I DON’T HAVE THAT YET” LIAR.

three, THEM JUMPING OFF THE AMBLER AND. THAT WHOLE MOMENT? THE ROMANTIC TENSION IS KILLING ME

four. DAMN CALLUM RLLY DO BE HAVING HEART EYES @ RAYLA WHILE SHE KILLS LIKE 80 SOULFANGS HE IS PINING PART 2

five. THE SPEECH. THE SOFTNESS. THE KISSES. GOD DAMN. FAVORITE SCENE OUT OF THE ENTIRETY OF TDP. LOVE THEM.

also here you go again

what can i say except YOU’RE WELCOME

6. ANGST BUT ALSO FLUFF ALSO REUNION

once again won’t b talking abt ezran specifically but there’s some passing mentions of him from now on

first, rayla and callum reaching the stone thunder and callum asking “is it... a statue?” and rayla sadly saying “no. it’s not a statue” A. I CRI.

1.5 ayla and callum best dragon parents

i’ll get to an actual analysis later

second, THIS MOMENT IS UNDERRATED EVEN THO IT’S ONE OF MY FAVS why has nobody mentioned the lil tender moment where ezran is by phoe-phoe and rayla puts her hand on callum’s shoulder AND CALLUM PUTS HIS HAND ON HERS. SO SWEET.

third, OK I’LL STOP MOST OF MY UNINTELLIGIBLE SHRIEKS AND ACTUALLY ANALYZE THIS.

callum is upset because of thunder and rayla sympathizes immediately. this is similar to how callum lets rayla let out her own emotions, and rayla is doing the same. he explains how he feels angry, upset, confused, sad, and rayla quickly empathizes. he keeps on venting, not knowing whether to feel regretful, or glad, and how he’s confused because that’s sarai’s spear. he feels sorry that all this happened, but rayla reassures him that zym and ezran are going to break the cycle! that’s hope! and then they hold hands and i screech

AND THAT’S SO FUCKING HEALTHY AND I LOVE IT. THEY RLLY BREAK ALL BAD HET RELATIONSHIP STEREOTYPES (coughbutistillheadcanonthembothasbiandcallumistransilldieonthishillcough)

7. angst but not rayllum angst so its ok

first, they begin to go up the storm spire and i really love their banter. “and i’m guessing the dragon queen didn’t make her den at a nice, halfway kinda place?” “nope. tiptop!”

cuties.

second, ASSDHFNF THE FACT THEY M O C K THE IDEA OF A FORBIDDEN RELATIONSHIP. THEY’RE IN LOVE AND THE WORLD CAN DEAL WITH IT. LOVE THAT FOR THEM

third, RAYLA CATCHING CALLUM. IT’S. NOT RLLY BIG I JUST LIKE IT AND THINK IT’S CUTE HOW EVEN THOUGH SHE WAS ALSO OUT OF BREATH SHE RAN UP TO CATCH HIM. 

four, AHSDHGDHFG THEY DEADASS FORGOT EZRAN WAS THERE. more flustered rayllum i love that

8. FUCK IT’S RAYLLUM ANGST NOOOO

one, ibis is j a good boi. back to rayla and callum

two, rayla going in to see the dragon queen and when she runs out callum QUICKLY FOLLOWS to see if she’s ok. asks her if she’s ok, and she OPENS UP!! CHARACTER GROWTH BABY!!! and then they hold hands and i once again shriek

three, AH. HELLO ANGST.

before we go to the actual angst, can i say that THE LAUGH AFTER RAYLA SAID “STORM SNEEZE” IS SO CUTE. CALLUMS IN LOVE. MY SON.

oh no.

*bonks rayla on the head* nO SELF SACRIFICING!!

although their fight is super angsty and i hate it, it does provide some conflict and more plot because it gives callum a reason to want to find out the truth about rayla’s parents. and then he does! people argue that this fight was unnecessary or that callum was a jerk, but this was needed i think. he did let his worry become a bit of anger, and that was not a nice move, but he knows he fucked up and fixes it!

and then we get soft rayllum this is fine

9. AND YOU THOUGHT LAST EPISODE WAS BAD N O *CRYING*

there’s not much rayllum featured in this ep, but the amount we do get is 80 PERCENT ANGST AND I WASN’T OK WITH IT

first, the fluff! callum trying to do the wing spell and rayla teasing “did you pull a muscle in the middle of a jumping jack?” is so cute. i LOVE THEM. also they hold hands and i SH RIEK again. 

also soren how dare you interrupt callum he was abt to confess

second, callum when he’s explaining the battle plan and his ZAP HAND. rayla is j watching him like “yep. that is my dork.”

and CALLUM SEEMS SO FOND WHEN JANAI CALLS RAYLA THE LAST DRAGONGUARD. PERHAPS I SOB

skipping forward in time a bit for the angst oh no

third, callum going up to the storm spire after ez encouraging him to go to rayla. love that soft brotherly relationship. and we think “oh, soft rayllum, right?”

NO. VIREN’S UP THERE.

fourth, THEY DIDN’T NEED ME TO BE ROLLING ON THE FLOOR WTF. the fact that rayla’s blade went right in front of callum and he looks up and sees zym in danger, viren is there, and RAYLA is there, p a n i k.

and then rayla jumps and the entire rayllum fandom SC REAMS after callum’s “no!” before she jumps and “no, no, no, RAYLA!”

fifth, CALLUM NO WHY ARE YOU JUMPING TOO- oh wait its ok he did the wings and im still crying fuck

THAT CONFESSION THO- i cri tears of joy now. they’re in love

sixth, I J WANNA KNOW WHAT THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT BEFORE EZRAN SHOWED UP. like it’s clear that they’re talking or something, but abt what is the question. also yes they hug and raylas fond

seventh, THEY HOLD HANDS!! soft bbs,,,

AAAND IM DONE! this is. quite long so if you read all of this i hope u have a good day and thnx for listening to me ramble with some coherent thoughts

[demigodsanswer]

Once Upon a Pointe

Summery: 

"Annabeth, you’re with Percy,' Chiron said. Annabeth. She looked like the figurine in a little girl’s music box had come to life to dance in City Ballet. Percy felt like every opportunity to dance with her was a privilege. Just don’t forget the choreography, Percy thought as he got into the right starting spot for the wedding pas de deux. Don’t forget the choreography, and don’t drop her."

Percy, a soloist with the ballet company, and he is offered one chance to dance with Annabeth, one of their star principals. If he nails the choreography, he might just earn a chance to dance with her. And, if he's really lucky, he might get a date out of it as well. 

Chapter 1/?: Once Upon a Dream 

Read on AO3

“Alright Percy, you’re up,”

Percy looked at his artistic director, Chiron Bruner, who was looking back at him with a deadly seriousness.

He had been standing in the back of the rehearsal room, not dancing, for days as Chiron tried to cast their company’s upcoming production of Tchaikovsky’s The Sleeping Beauty.

Percy knew from the minute he has been brought into the room that he wasn’t a favorite for the Prince, the male principal role. As a first soloist, he had had opportunities to play principal roles (a few times even in the first cast), but big classical ballets like The Sleeping Beauty were long, intense pieces that drew in big crowed and, more importantly, big donors. Big name stars like Charles Beckendorf were always shoo-ins for principal roles and first cast spots.

In fact, Beckendorf had pretty much been guaranteed the spot until his knee popped when he landed a jump last week. He was out for the season at least.

Percy was the fifth man they brought into the room to start learning the choreography. Of the five of them, four would lead a cast (first cast would open their run of the show), and the fifth would likely be an understudy.

It wasn’t a good sign that it had taken four days for Percy to be offered the opportunity to dance at all. If he was getting the chance now, it was his only shot.

He had been watching the choreography for days and practicing it alone in his apartment at night (a challenge without a partner, but he made do). He hoped that was enough to get it into his body. He did a few small jumps and rolled his shoulders to make sure his muscles were warm before stepping into the center of the room.

“Annabeth, you’re with Percy,” Chiron said.

Annabeth. She looked like the figurine in a little girl’s music box had come to life to dance in City Ballet. She was stunning – long arms, legs, and neck, beautiful blonde hair, and sharp features. Percy couldn’t even think of a time she had so much as fallen out of a turn.

Nothing was ever set with ballet casting – Chiron could like a pair better than another, or a dancer could get hurt – but if Percy was betting man, he’d bet that Annabeth was already set (in Chiron’s mind at least) as first cast Aurora.

Being able to dance with her was a privilege. She was only a year older than him, but she had been in the company for a decade already, getting her apprenticeship at sixteen. He’d only been there for seven years, earning his apprenticeship at eighteen. She was made soloist the next year – the same year he entered the corps.

Last year, they had been slotted to dance Balanchine’s Diamonds pas de deux in Jewels. But she dropped out a week before the performance. All he got out of Chiron was that she was dealing with a personal loss and would be taking a short leave from the company.

Silena, the woman who ran the costume shop, seemed to know everything, though. “Dancers like to talk to me or around me,” she told him.

“So, what happened?” He didn’t want to pry, but he wanted to know if she was okay. He hadn’t had may opportunities to dance with her, but everyone was close in a company. They had talked, they had shared barre space. She’d even used his foam roller once.

Silena pinned some fabric on his doublet into place, “She broke off her engagement,” she said.

“What?” He asked, turning so quickly that Silena accidentally poked him with the pin.

“Stand still,” She said, adjusting her measurements again.

“What happened?” He asked, being sure to stand still and composed.

“That I can’t tell you,”

“You don’t know?” He asked.

“No,” she said, “I know. It’s just … really not great,”

“And it’s not your place,” Percy said, finishing the sentence for her. Silena nodded and finished her alterations.

It had been nine months since Jewels, and Annabeth had been back for months and dancing better than Percy had ever seen. Her ex-fiancé, Luke, had retired just before her comeback and had moved out west. It was a young retirement – he was only thirty-three – but Percy had never liked him. (“Yeah, and your dislike of him has nothing to do with your major crush on her,” his best friend, Grover, said after Percy admitted his schadenfreude at hearing about their breakup and Luke’s retirement. Percy tried to deny it, but Grover knew him too well for that. “Crush on her or not,” he said, “I still think he was a dick,”)

Nine months later and Annabeth was walking towards him the rehearsal room, already looking like a young and beautiful princess. Just don’t forget the choreography, he thought as he got into the right starting spot for the wedding pas de deux, don’t forget the choreography, and don’t drop her.

Throughout his life, people had critiqued Percy for acting without thinking – jumping to action without considering all the options or the consequences. That had gotten him into trouble when he was younger, but in dance it proved to be his strength. He was able to turn his brain off when he danced. He didn’t have to think step-by-step; his brain heard the music and his body knew what to do. He let his body move on its own and used the extra mind space to focus on his artistry.

This is your wedding day, he told himself as they began. You met her in a dream and saved her from a curse. This is fairytale love. Show Chiron how much you love Aurora.

 He was lucky. It wasn’t hard to pretend to love Annabeth Chase.

Most days, he loved being in a Balanchine company – the arrangements, even for classical ballets, were faster and more exciting. Typically, this suited his ADHD. But as he supported her in the final signature fish dive, he wished they were dancing in London or Moscow just so he could enjoy a slower arrangement and let this moment last longer.

But, of course, that couldn’t happen. All he could do was wait for the music to end, before gently lifting her out of the dive and back on to her feet.

She was smiling at him. That has to be good, right? He thought. Annabeth, of course, had no say over casting, but she knew good ballet when she saw it.

Chiron was a master of the poker face, though. He just nodded at them and said “Good,” before calling an end to the day.

Percy went to the side of the room where his dance bag was to grab his water.

“Good job today,”

He looked up and saw Annabeth sitting down next to him to take off her pointe shoes.

“Thanks. You make it easy. You’re a great partner,” he said. He moved a little back towards the center of the room, looking for a place to stretch.

She joined him soon after, pointe shoes replaced with warm-ups.  

“I don’t think I ever apologized for leaving you high and dry with Diamonds last year,” she said.

Percy shrugged casually. “Don’t worry about it. Piper’s a great partner. I think we managed to pull it off,”

Annabeth nodded, sliding into her split and bending forward over her front leg. “You guys did a great job,” she told him.

Percy looked at her. “You came to see it?”

Annabeth nodded before bending backwards towards her other leg. “I didn’t stop loving dance just because I wasn’t doing it,”

Percy smiled, “Well, I’m glad you're back. Things weren’t the same around here without you,”

“I’m glad to be back,” she said, coming out of her split. “I hope we get to work together again soon,”

Percy tried to think of something funny or kind to say in response, but after hearing Annabeth express a genuine desire to work with him, he could really only manage to pull of something articulate: “Me too,”

~*~*~

Percy found himself humming along to The Sleeping Beauty score as he made dinner that night, dancing around his kitchen like he used to when he was a child. He still wasn’t confident that he’d be chosen as a prince for any of the casts, but he couldn’t help but daydream about dancing the ballet with Annabeth. If, for nothing else, the opportunity to dance with such an artful and technically skilled dancer. Sure, all the women in the company had good artistry and technicality – they’d mad it into the company for a reason – but Annabeth was something else.

The next day, Chiron had Percy and Annabeth run the pas de deux one more time, and then he had him run it with Reyna. Three chances, he thought, maybe that will be good enough for Chiron.

Annabeth didn’t say anything to him afterwards, choosing instead to stretch near some of the other women on the other side of the room. He didn’t take it personally; it wasn’t like they were close friends.  

As he left the studio to head home, he passed a room with just Chiron, Annabeth, and one of their ballet mistresses. Percy recognized the dance already – Aurora's act one variation. That’s it then, he thought, she’s going to be first cast for sure.  

He wanted her to succeed. Of course he did. But there was a small part of him that hoped that, if he didn’t get first cast, maybe she wouldn’t either. First cast didn’t really mean anything, anyway. It was more for reviews and promo photos. Every cast danced the ballet. The only thing that changed was who you danced it with. With only his three chances next to all the other men’s four, five, six, or seven chances, he was not going to land any higher than third cast.

That was if he got a cast at all.

Percy tried not to worry about it too much as he walked to the subway. If they were both lucky, he and Annabeth both had at least another decade of dancing left. There would be plenty of time for partnering.

But she’s going to be a beautiful Aurora, he though.

~*~*~

Percy sipped his coffee as he walked into the studio the next morning. He headed towards the office where he knew the cast list would be posted.

It was old fashioned to post the cast lists on a bulletin board outside Chiron’s office like they were in some high school theater not a world-class ballet company, but Chiron had always been old fashioned.

He started reading from the bottom and made his way to the top, never the optimist about his own chances. He made his way through the third cast without seeing his name at all.

His heart rate started to rise as he became more and more sure that he hadn’t been cast at all.

Not in the second cast. That was it then. Nothing.

He looked at the first cast to confirm his suspicions about Annabeth.

There she was, at the top of the list:

           Aurora: Annabeth Chase.

He almost dropped his coffee when he looked at the line below:

           Prince Désiré: Percy Jackson.

[kimvvantae]

till the end of the line • myg

➜ the world has ended and everything you have ever loved died with it. now, you have nothing but a gunshot, an old van, and most importantly - him.

pairing: yoongi x (n) reader

genre: angst, angst, angst, angst • zombie apocalypse au

warnings: lowkey horror, violence, language, disgusting zombies

word count: 11k

A/N: this took me an awful lot to finish so i hope you guys like it! don’t hesitate to send your opinions about it!

➜ check out masterlist in bio for more of my works!

It's been exactly fifteen days since you arrived here.

The mansion many kilometers away from the city was the only refuge you could find. The gigantic property was abandoned, so no alarms echoed when you managed to jump over the wall and get into the house.

If you were in different conditions, you would have enjoyed the place more. Comfortable king-sized beds to sleep in - way better than sleeping at the back seat of that broken car -, beautifully decorated rooms, luxury and technology everywhere. Not that it was of any help, since the house had no electricity and the generator has been stolen, but somehow, the water system still worked here. You took your first decent bath in more days than you could count. There were also some clothes remaining in the closets - clothes that, when the world was still what it used to be, you would have no money to buy because they were just too expensive. But today, money doesn't matter. These were simply clothes.

The best part was when you found food in the kitchen. You almost couldn't believe your eyes; the cabinets were full of canned food and snacks within the expiration date. Honestly, you didn't even remember how it feels to have your stomach full since fifteen days ago. For the first time in many days you could sleep, eat and feel like a human being again.

But your luck has ended.

You stare at the last sardine can near your foot - the last edible thing in the house which you ate five days ago. It has been three days since all the faucets of the house stopped working. Your throat is so dry that it hurts, your stomach aches. Your blood pressure is so low that you can barely walk.

And, after two weeks of silence, you hear the first grunt.

They finally found you.

The instinctive part of your brain is yelling at you, telling you to get up and run away, to grab that baseball bat and defend yourself. But you're way too tired, way too weak - not only physically, but mentally and spiritually as well. Is it even worth it to keep trying to live in this world? Living in fear of death every day, every hour, every second? Friends, family… they're all gone. Everything that once mattered in your life is nothing but a distant memory now. All you've been doing since the world ended is follow your survival instincts - and you are about to ignore them. 

Because you have no reason to keep living.

The slow steps of that thing echoes through the living room, as well as its low grunts. The smell of rotted flesh invades your nostrils. You don't move one centimeter from the place you're sitting on the floor.

Despite everything, you're still grateful. You had a happy life. You used to be just an ordinary person, you didn't do anything considerably great, but you have no reason to complain. You had family and friends. You had moments of sadness and happiness. You regret the fact that you didn't travel as much as you wanted and didn't say “I love you” to the people you loved enough times, but still - at least you shared good moments with them.

Tears start streaming down your cheeks. You try not to sob.

The creature is closer now.

You think of your friends and family. It's hard to do so, because you notice that you can't remember their faces well anymore, and it makes more and more tears fall. You still don't know what happened to some of them. Others, you saw dying with your own eyes.

You loved them so much…

When you sob loudly for the first time, the thing finally notices you.

And walks in your direction.

The first cold shiver of fear finally hits you. You stare at that creature that once was a human man, but now is nothing but a walking corpse. Who was he when alive? Maybe he felt as scared as you are before dying? Maybe he died to protect someone? Maybe he was as lonely as you are?

It doesn't matter. That thing is not a person anymore.

And it is about to kill you.

You don't know how, but it already felt you. It grunts louder and grits its teeth in a disgusting way, producing a noise that makes you flinch. Yes, you are scared, yet you don't move. You do nothing. 

One step closer. Two steps closer.

You close your eyes tightly.

If there is a God, you just hope he will have mercy of your soul…

A shooting sound, so loud it makes you scream and open your eyes immediately.

The zombie before you now has a hole right in the center of its forehead. You retract your legs closer to your body, disgusted at the sight of blood and pieces of its brain right on your legs.

The thing grunts one last time and falls with a loud thud. It doesn't move anymore.

You stare at it wide eyed, trembling, completely shocked. And when you finally look up, you feel even more shocked.

Standing at the entrance of the living room is a man.

Being honest, you don't know what makes you more astonished - the fact that someone miraculously saved you or the fact that there is a living person in the same place as you. The unknown man stands there and checks the gunshot on his hands. He lifts his gaze and looks around the giant living room.

Then, your eyes meet.

You shiver.

The man's eyes are astute and smart like a cat's; you can see he's analyzing you in those brief moments. He also seems surprised to find another living person. His skin is pale and his figure is thin, cheeks hollow and he has deep purple marks around his eyes - finding food is not an easy task for anyone; you have lost weight at an unhealthy pace these past months, and you suppose that's also his problem. He wears a black cap that almost makes it difficult to see his cat-like eyes, an oversized green coat, black jeans and combat boots. There's a knife attached to his thigh and another gun rests in a holster on his hip.

He approaches slowly.

All the fear you felt with the zombie comes back in an instant. He's fully armed and you have nothing to protect himself. That thing was unconscious and would just kill you instinctively, while this man might do worse things to you just out of pure cruelty. People are not the same after everything that happened; death is casual now, something people do without any type of moral standards. The world forgot what morality is after they saw themselves having to fight over water.

For a moment, you wish the zombie had had time to kill you.

The man stops right in front of your frightened form and looks down at you with those cold eyes. 

“Is there any food in this house?” He asks, his voice echoes and you shiver. His voice is deep and husky. It's the first human voice saying something coherent you hear in more days than you can count.

Instead of answering, you just keep staring at him, too scared to move a muscle.

The unknown man keeps staring down at you, and then you immediately notice he doesn't have much patience. “Are you deaf?” He says louder. “I asked if there is any food here.”

“N-No,” you stutter, scared of his voice. He doesn't seem particularly angry, just impatient. You can't also forget the gunshot he holds. “T-There is n-no food.”

He tsks, obviously frustrated, and looks around. “Is there any water, then? Medicine, clothes?”

This time, you have no courage to speak. When he notices you won't say anything, the man rolls his eyes and turns around, leaving you by yourself on the floor. You hear the noises of him opening cabinets at the kitchen and mumbling to himself.

You can't even breathe at this point. 

The man didn't hurt you, what seems like a good sign. In fact, he's ignoring your existence. Maybe he'll just leave without making any harm…?

He'll just… leave you alone again?

This thought makes you even more scared. 

Now, your survival instincts scream louder than ever. Maybe this man is the chance you need to live a little longer. He has guns, he can protect you. Also, you doubt he came all the way walking; he probably has a car. 

You don't really want to die anymore. 

What would your family and friends think of you if they knew you gave up so easily? They died because they didn't have a chance, but this man can be your chance. It doesn't matter how scary he makes you feel at the moment. If he at least gives you a chance to take you out of here…

You hear steps and get scared when the man appears on the living room again. He doesn't look down at you not even once; he just walks straight to the entrance of the house. You panic, realizing he's about to leave, and use all of your strength to get up despite the weakness.

“Wait!” You call, voice shaking. The man stops on his tracks and turns around. His piercing gaze gives you another shiver. “Please, take me with you.”

The man looks at you from head to toe.

“No.” He simply says and starts to walk away again.

The way he didn't even consider your plead is impressive.

“Please!” You scream desperately, going one step closer to him. He turns around and now he looks actually annoyed.

“Do you wanna die? ‘Cause if you keep screaming like that, those things are gonna hear you,” he scolds harshly. You flinch at the tone of his voice.

“Please, just take me with you,” you plead again, determined to change his mind. It's annoying how a tears is already trickling down your cheek. “I have nowhere to go. My car broke and I don't know how to leave this place. I j-just don't wanna die here anymore.”

“That's none of my business,” he says blatantly. 

“B-But I can help you!” You can't hide the despair in your voice. The man lifts one eyebrow.

“And how would you do that?”

He clearly doesn't believe you can be of any help, and honestly, you don't blame him. All he sees in the moment is a shivering and fragile person that can barely stand.

“Two people work better than one. I can help you to make vigilances, to find food or other things. If I prove to be useless, you can just kill me anyway.” 

He stares at you deeply. You can see he's considering the pros and cons of taking you along. He looks up at the grey sky, scratches his chin and then looks at you again.

“Is there any medicine here?” He asks again.

You nod furiously. “Yes. There's some medicine on the second floor, in the bathrooms.”

“That's everything?”

“N-No. There are many clothes and… a-and all the cars were stolen, but there is still one in the garage. It's broken, I tried to fix it, but I think that the battery is still working.”

The man nods. “Good. Then start doing something useful and help me taking these.”

He immediately walks past you hurriedly to the second floor. You follow him, confused and still shaking. 

“Where's the medicine?” He asks. You point to the bathroom and he enters; he takes a plastic bag and shoves every medicine he can find without even looking what it is for, as well as other hygiene products. 

“A-Are you letting me go with you?” 

“I'll change my mind if you keep making stupid questions.” He says harshly again without looking back. “Now can you start helping? That shot must have attracted every zombie in this area. We gotta leave right now.”

Adrenaline rushes through your veins; instead of saying anything else, you run to the closet and take all the clothes you can find, especially winter clothes, and put them hurriedly inside carriers. He doesn't help you taking them down the stairs. You wait for him at the living room for a few minutes - and for a moment you think he ran away without you - until he shows up holding a car battery and some tools he found at the garage.

“Let's go.” 

You run out of the property carrying the bags until you see an old grey van parked on the sidewalk. You and him shove everything inside the car and enter as well - just in time to hear the first grunts you have learned to get used to. 

The man ignites the van and drives down the road.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“A place away from the city where we can spend the night.” 

You nod and just sit there uncomfortably for some moments.

“Won't you even tell me your name?” He asks suddenly, scaring you.

“Ah… it's Y/N.” The man nods, not taking his eyes off of the road.

“Hm. My name is Yoongi. It wasn't nice to meet you,” he still sounds slightly annoyed.

You don't open your mouth after that.

Two weeks have passed and you still don't know what to say about your convivence with Yoongi.

First, because you literally just talk the bare minimum to each other. Most days are reigned by silence. Second, because you can feel how immensely suspicious Yoongi is of you. You catch him staring at you all the time and he doesn't even try to pretend he isn't staring - it's almost as if he's saying I'm watching you so don't you dare to do anything. He gets tense and immediately puts his hand over the holster every time you move too fast, and you know he doesn't trust you enough to sleep when it's your turn to do the nightly vigilance.

You don't blame him, though, because you are suspicious of him all the time as well. You don't know anything about this man other than his name and the fact that he aims very well, what is concerning. You also don't know how he managed to get so many guns and bullets - he even has a machine gun hidden in the van. Normal people aren't so armed, and you doubt he got all that after the virus has spread.

All you know is that he's scary and that he's angry because the food supplies are ending too fast. Perhaps he's starting to regret saving you that day. You just hope that if he decides to kill you, he'll do it on your sleep. At least it won't hurt this way.

It is around nine in the morning as you have these thoughts, laying in the back seat of the van, staring at the ceiling. This “safe place” he mentioned is in the middle of nowhere, many kilometers away from the city. Of course, creatures may appear, but since the place is close to a highway and plain with no trees, you will see them approaching from far and will have enough time to run away.

You gasp, startled, and immediately sit up when he knocks on the van's door. Yoongi is standing there without the coat since it's hot, just wearing a simple black T-shirt. He never takes that cap off.

“Come here,” he simply says, motioning with his head.

Frowning, you simply follow him instead of asking. You widen your eyes when you see that Yoongi took some empty bottles and placed them over a wooden box. He stops exactly five meters away from that box, making you stop as well, and takes the pistol he keeps on the holster.

“You don't know how to shoot, am I right?” He asks.

“No. I never even touched a gun in my life,” you admit sheepishly. Yoongi huffs.

“It's past time for you to learn, then.” You watch as he puts bullets on the gun, as well as he places a silencer on it. You hadn't noticed how his hands are big and his fingers are slender. “We're going to the city in two days.”

“What? This is suicide!” You gasp. “There are too many zombies there.”

“Yes, and that's the point. Almost everyone died before they could steal everything, so there are still supplies in the markets, and we're getting out of food if you didn't notice yet.” Yes, you noticed. The cup of noodles you shared this morning is one of the last ones. “We also need water, gasoline and more bullets. I've been there before by myself twice and didn't die. You just have to be quiet enough.”

Yoongi hands you the pistol and shows you where the safety lock is and how to put bullets in it. 

“The only way to kill a zombie is by shooting its head,” Yoongi proceeds to explain. It's weird, but you notice how his voice is soothing when he's not being harsh. “As far as I know, their only sense working is the hearing. They can't feel any smell nor see anything. Hadn't you killed any by now?”

“No. I've been just… running and hiding.”

Yoongi tilts his head. “Well, you better get ready to do it, then. Now, aim on the targets and shoot. You better focus, we can't waste bullets just because you can't aim a damn bottle.”

Again, his harshness is annoying, but arguing won't be productive right now. Instead, you lift the pistol and aim in one of the bottles.

The shoot barely produces any sound because of the silencer. 

You completely missed the bottle.

“I asked you to focus,” Yoongi says between gritted teeth.

“It was just my first try! Can't you be a little patient?” You complain. He just huffs and crosses his arms.

You try again. And again. You miss both times.

Yoongi really is an impatient guy.

“Look, you gotta firm your arms,” he says.

Before you can notice, Yoongi stands right behind you.

You feel the heat radiating off his body as he places both hands over yours, his chest pressing against your back, his chin almost resting on your shoulder.

“You need to have your arms ready to bear the impact of the shot,” he explains, and the fact that his mouth is so close to your ear sends goosebumps all over your body.

Perhaps it's because his voice is so deep and husky. Perhaps it's because his hands are so big that they completely engulf yours. Perhaps it's because you don't even remember the last time someone has been so close to you. But, right now, your heart is beating so fast and loud that you're scared he'll be able to hear it.

“Shoot,” he orders softly.

You pull the trigger.

One bottle falls to the ground in pieces five meters away.

“Good,” Yoongi approves and steps away. You shouldn't, but you miss his touch immediately. “Keep doing just like that.”

You gulp and try shooting another bottle. You don't hit the center, but it breaks anyway. Yoongi just stands there in silence, watching your progress, arms crossed.

“When someone gets bitten or scratched… when someone gets their blood contaminated with a creature…” he says after some moments, catching your attention. “It takes exactly ten seconds until this person transforms. So, you gotta act quick.” He lifts his gaze and looks at you. “If I get bitten, you have to shoot me before these ten seconds.”

You gulp and drop your arms. “Kill you? I… I don't think I can make it.”

Yoongi opens a humorless smirk. “Bad for you, then. Because if you get bitten, I won't hesitate to kill you.” He turns around and heads to the van. “Keep practicing.”

You stand there speechless.

He has much to teach you, you realize.

This is probably one of the most tense moments of your life.

The gas station is outside of the city, and for some miracle there was still some gasoline on the bombs. You filled the tank and let the van parked near the city, walking all the way here in order to not alarm the creatures with the sound of the engine.

You wonder how can Yoongi be so calm when you're in a city crowded with zombies. You lost count of how many you saw on your way to the supermarket, even though it is in a less populated area. They're all inert, literally walking corpses; you and Yoongi had to wrap pieces of cloth around your mouths and noses because the smell of rotted flesh is unbearable and you could feel it even before you entered the city.

In a normal world, you would have been shocked to see human bones and body parts thrown around the street. You would have been disgusted to see a raven eating the eye of a little girl that somehow is still standing even though she's dead. You would have screamed to see a man with his intestines falling from his stomach as he stumbles and grunts lowly. 

But the world isn't normal anymore. In fact, this is what became normal. The constant smell of blood, clouds of ravens flying above your heads, the unstoppable fear. Death is the world's reality now.

Yoongi has also wrapped pieces of cloth on your shoes to muffle the sound of your steps as much as possible. You've been doing a good job until now, so silent that the zombies didn't notice you yet. You also have been talking with eyes instead of words; Yoongi and you had combined some hand signs to make things easier.

The supermarket's steel doors are closed, there is only a small gap you use to get in. Yoongi and you immediately turn your lanterns on. Carefully, you walk around the shelves that are almost empty; all the few vegetables and meat inside freezers are rotted, as expected. Yet, Yoongi was right; you widen your eyes when you see gallons of water, some snacks, packs of rice and beans, noodles, and even some candies. If you carry everything, you think you'll be able to survive one month or so.

Without a word, you and him start to put all you can find inside the many bags you brought. Both of you are thin and weak due to the lack of food, so for a moment you wonder if you'll be able to carry all that, but the desperation and fear gives you strength. Your fingers are shaking, you're scared that even the smallest noises you make will attract the zombies outside, you wonder if even your rapid breathing will be enough to alarm them. You have to leave this place as fast as you can. Your hands are busy shoving band-aids, gaze and some pills you don't bother reading what they are for in another bag, so you have to put the lantern on your mouth. Sweat trickles down your temples and forehead. Calm down, you repeat in your mind like a mantra - because if you keep trembling like that, you will definitely drop something and it will cause much noise.

You lift your gaze and see Yoongi. He has literally two backpacks stuffed on each shoulder, many bags over his arms, and holds two big gallons of water on his right hand. With the left hand, though, he's lifting a pack of beer happily.

You can't see his mouth because of the cloth, but by the way his eyes became two thin crescents, you can tell he's smiling. 

It's the first time you see Yoongi smiling.

How can he smile when you're honestly about to have a heart attack?!

You are so shocked that end up smiling, too. This dude is crazy…

That's when you catch movement with the corner of your eye.

It's dark. Your lantern isn't lightening that part. But your eyes recognize the grotesque form of a human right behind Yoongi.

Your instincts take control of your actions.

Your hand flies to the holster on your hip. Yoongi frowns at the brusque movement, but he doesn't have time to do anything as you take the pistol in the blink of the eye and aim beside Yoongi's head where the zombie stands.

You didn't have enough time to train. You could make a mistake that would cost Yoongi's life…

But you pull the trigger anyway.

The sound is muffled by the silencer.

The bullet passes buzzing by Yoongi's ear and crosses the zombie's skull and brain, spilling blood everywhere.

In an even faster movement, Yoongi turns around and holds the creature's arm - fortunately, he's wearing gloves - before it can fall to the ground and make too much noise.

He places it on the floor carefully. The thing doesn't move anymore.

Your hands are shaking.

Yoongi looks back at you, completely shocked, eyes widened. 

He gets back to his senses way faster than you and, instead of saying anything, he motions with his hands for you to move. You do as he said, taking all the bags from the floor and two gallons of water. There could be more creatures inside the big building, you had to run away before the rest could notice your presence.

Somehow, you make it out of the supermarket. You walk all the way out of the city and when you finally reach the highway, you both run like crazy even though you're carrying much weight, and you don't stop running until you finally see the damn van peek in the horizon, and when you jump inside the car Yoongi drives away at the speed of light.

You're sweating, your whole body aches and you can't stop shaking. Your heart beats so fast you think it's about to fail. You just want Yoongi to take you away from that city, you never want to be there again, you've never felt so desperate or-

You gasp when you feel Yoongi's hand holding yours.

“Hey, look at me,” he asks seriously. Only now you notice he stopped the car. Even his figure seems distorted due to the tears. “Breath, okay? Breath with me.”

He breathes deeply and slowly, motioning you to do the same, holding your hand tight. You imitate and start to feel your heart beating at its normal pace again.

“You good?” He asks after some moments. You nod weakly, wiping the tears away. “You were about to pass out. Just relax now, okay? We're safe. You did very well today.”

After giving your hand a tight squeeze, he finally drops it and holds the wheel, turning the car on again. You gulp multiple times; your hands stop shaking at some point. You just lean your head on the window for the rest of the ride, trying to come back to your senses.

It's evening when you two finish organising everything.

Yoongi found a place to park near the highway and right beside a flowing river. You're not crazy enough to drink that water, but at least cleaning yourself sounds like a good idea - and that's what you do. You think it's the first time you can clean yourself properly in two weeks. Yoongi locks himself inside the van as you bathe, and you do the same when it's his turn. He's a respectful guy, that one.

Going through so much danger was worth it. If you economize, now those supplies can help you surviving for even two months. You don't know what to do when it happens, but by now you just want to enjoy the fruits of your hard work: and actual chocolate bar. Although you'll only eat two tiny pieces by now, it already lifts up your mood. 

“Want one?” You hear Yoongi saying as he sits by your side on the van's floor, legs swinging outside. He hands you a can of beer, which you accept gladly. “Gosh, it's been so long since I drank this,” he murmurs, opening the can. “This thing is warm, it's gonna taste like tea.”

He takes a sip and makes a disgusted scowl. You see yourself giggling. “Yeah, the worst tea I have ever tasted.”

“Why are you drinking, then?” You quirk one eyebrow. Yoongi shrugs.

“Alcohol makes people feel alive, I think.”

Although you know it's gonna taste bad, you do the same and take a sip as well. You just sit there in a somewhat peaceful silence.

“You saved my life back there,” Yoongi finally speaks up, resting his elbows on his legs. His voice is quiet. “Thanks for that.”

“Now we're even,” you say.

“I thought you were going to kill me, though. When I saw you taking the gun.”

“Well, I just didn't kill you for a few centimeters. You were lucky that you didn't lose half of your ear,” you joke, what makes Yoongi crack a chuckle. You soon find out you like seeing that tiny smile. “But why would I kill you, though? It would be suicide.”

Yoongi sighs and shrugs again. He always looks tired - just like you. “I don't know. It's just that… people have changed.” He looks down at his legs. You just stare at him, waiting for him to keep speaking. It's the first time you're having an actual conversation with Yoongi and you don't want it to end so fast. “I didn't want you to come with me because I already tried to live with other people, you know. After the virus has spread.” He took one more sip. “Things were fine in the beginning. It was that… we'll take care of each other kinda bullshit. And we really took care of each other until food started to end.” Yoongi frowned and shook his head slightly. “I thought we could make it and 'take care of each other’... Until I saw a man smashing his own ten years old daughter's head with a rock just because she didn't share a bag of cheetos with him.” You flinch just imagining that scene. “We were always so comfortable, we never considered having to fight for food. That made people go crazy.” He let a humorless chuckle past his lips. “If you don't die infected with the virus, you die killed by another crazy person. The worst of all is that they're not even unconscious. They're just… evil.”

You nod. You've been by yourself ever since your family died, so you didn't experience this type of situation, but you know he's right. The survivors became animalesque, primitive and violent.

“And how did you escape?” You ask.

“While they were killing each other with their bare hands, I stole their van and all their guns.” Yoongi shrugs. “I decided to be alone ever since. But, well, having you now isn't that bad after all. We could take much more food than I could when I was by myself.”

“I'm pleased to help,” you say, smiling at him.

Yoongi smiles, too.

Then he avoids your gaze.

As he lifts his hand to drink more, he flinches slightly and grunts.

“What?” You question.

“Nothing. It's just this tiny cut in my finger.” He says, looking at his hand.

“Oh, let me take care of it,” you immediately take the first-aid box you've organized from below the seat.

“Hey, that's not necessary. Let's save the medicine for important stuff…” he tries.

“Any cut is important. We've been at an infected place, Yoongi. I'm sure you don't want your hand to gangrene.”

If it was bright enough, you would have noticed Yoongi's shy expression.

Carefully, you take his hand and clean the cut. “I have to thank you too. You helped me a lot with calming down,” you say softly.

“You looked about to explode or something,” he mumbles lowly. His voice is actually very deep… you like how he sounds.

“I was about to explode,” you admit, giggling, as you wrap a band-aid around his finger. “Done.”

“Thanks.”

When you look up, Yoongi is already gazing at you.

You stare at each other in silence.

There is something else on his gaze… it has shadowed in a way that made your stomach jump. It's not as if you hadn't noticed that Yoongi is attractive before, but now - when you're so close to each other, when he's not wearing that cap and you can see his dark soft hair, when he's not looking at you with such suspicion - is when you first feel affected by him. His features are actually delicate; smooth skin, small beautiful lips. He's a well-balanced mix between masculine and feminine.

He doesn't say anything. Yet, when you notice his body leaning in your direction, when you feel he's getting closer, your heart starts beating faster again… only panic isn't your motivation this time.

However, Yoongi stops midway.

He blinks as if getting back to his senses and straightens his posture. “Uh, thanks,” he repeats awkwardly, coughing. “I… I think I'll take a nap now. It's your turn to make the vigilance.”

“O-Okay,” you stutter as he gets up and enters the van.

What just happened here?

You were sure Yoongi wanted to do it, too…

The scene of his face getting closer to yours repeats in your head multiple times as you do your vigilance throughout the night.

That's the first time Yoongi actually sleeps.

As weeks go by, you learn more and more about Yoongi. Not that he's telling you anything, but convivence can teach many things about someone without words.

He's not as quiet as he used to be. After you saved his life at the supermarket, Yoongi started to trust you; he doesn't glare at you as if you were a defenseless rat he was about to kill anymore. He also started to care about you - but on his own way. Yoongi had a hard shell around him that didn't let him show many emotions straight away, but as days passed by, you noticed how he shows his care in tiny ways. Like putting more rice on your plate than on his, for example, or letting you sleep more hours during his vigilance, or even washing your clothes sometimes.

Every time you notice those small signs that he cares, your heart gets warm.

You've been alone for so long that having someone caring about you is strange in a good way. You also started to care for Yoongi. He was wrong when said that “taking care of each other” was just bullshit, after all - at least with you two, it is working.

The tension between you two is getting stronger, too.

As expected of two people that had nothing but each other. Humans naturally need physical contact, they can't live without it. Sexual tension would happen at some point. You'd catch Yoongi staring at you for way too long sometimes, you saw how he gulped when you showed a little bit of skin, you would find dumb excuses to touch him. Your bodies are screaming for it; you both know it.

However, Yoongi always seems to finish things before they even start.

He always looks away, he always steps away. You're sure he wants it as much as you. There's nothing wrong when both want it, right?

Deep down, you know very well why he always keeps a certain distance.

More than that. You understand him.

Both of you have lost way too much; you lost your families, friends, everything and everyone you loved. You have not healed and you never would, for this type of cut is too deep to cicatrize. The idea of getting involved with anyone when you both know how it hurts to lose a loved one is too scary. You live in a dangerous world; death is literally everywhere, you don't know when your time will come. How can you two get so involved when one of you might die the day after? The other would be left alone again, suffering again, because they lost someone precious again. 

You can't do that to Yoongi. You can't do that to yourself. So, deep down, you know that keeping some distance is a way from preventing you both from feeling more pain.

You don't think you can bear more pain.

Pain can change someone completely. Looking at Yoongi, you feel this more than ever. You know he wasn't always this quiet, harsh person, because sometimes you see a glimpse of his true self through the shell he built around him. Perhaps in the past, when the world hadn't gone crazy yet, he was someone that used to laugh a lot. Perhaps he was someone that liked to joke around, that liked to get drunk. Perhaps it used to be easier for Yoongi to show his feelings towards people. Perhaps he liked to visit places, perhaps he wasn't suspicious of his own shadow. Perhaps in the past, he didn't have as much nightmares as he has now.

You're sure he wasn't as fragile as he is now.

And you're sure that nothing hurts your heart as much as when, in the middle of the night, when Yoongi thinks you're sleeping, you hear him crying quietly. Soft sniffles, muffled sobs. Sometimes you hear him whispering a few names. Perhaps it is the names of his family.

Yoongi is shattered.

You are shattered.

The world is shattered.

“We could settle here for a couple of weeks. What do you think?” He says, gesticulating around.

You look around the small house as well, hesitant. “We don't even know if this place is safe.”

“Y/N, we're literally in the middle of nowhere,” Yoongi puts his hands on each side of his waist. “The closest city is twenty kilometers away. We didn't find not even one zombie on our way. Besides, there's a water well out there; it's safer than to drink water from rivers that might be infected. Of course, nowhere is completely safe, but at least here we could have a good night's sleep.”

You cross your arms and sigh. “I don't know, Yoongi…”

“Look,” he starts, standing right in front of you. It's stupid to notice this at the moment, but the way he pouts while speaking makes your heart flutter. “We'll surround the house with traps. Let's make a test. If this place proves to be dangerous, we leave.”

“But maybe we won't even have a chance to leave if they surround the house.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at your stubbornness. “Y/N, what I'm trying to say is that… we can't keep running away for the rest of our lives. We'll need to settle down sometime.” He gesticulates out of the window. “This place is a farm. The soil must be fertile. We could get seeds somewhere and plant. Running from city to city, putting ourselves in danger in the hopes to find food inside a market or something… it won't work forever, and you know I'm right. The world has changed and we have to adapt.”

Yes, he is right. Yet, you can't help but not feel scared.

“Hey,” Yoongi says softly before putting his hands over your shoulders. His eyes are gentle, a tiny smile adorns his face. “Have I ever been wrong about anything? Have I ever let you down?”

You roll your eyes at his huge ego. “No,” you admit, smiling.

“Then let's try it. If it doesn't work, we move out. Alright?”

You sigh and nod, finally giving in. “Alright.”

Domestic life feels nice.

Sure, you've been domestic with Yoongi all the while, but it's different when you're living in an actual house. You had so much fun placing all the traps - as weird as it sounds - and cleaning the place. You don't have electricity, but that's not really a problem; you're used to the medieval life at this point. You're sure that if you find a working smartphone, you won't know how to use it. 

Yoongi looks actually happy and more relaxed. It warms your heart to see him smiling as he waters his small plants. Of course, it will take some time until the vegetables grow enough, and you'll have to find something to eat while it doesn't happen.

That's why you're in another expedition to find food.

You think you'll never get used to be under such danger. It's been a long time since you don't hear the disgusting grunts and feel the scent of rotted flesh so strongly - even at the farm you feel it, but it's not so evident. It is summer, though, and the acrid scent gets worse as the sun burns their decomposing bodies.

Yoongi found a map inside the house, and that's what you used to guide yourselves. You found a luxurious condominium some kilometers away where old rich people tired from the city used to live in. As expected, the place is abandoned and there is absolutely no security, so you simply enter it. 

“Hey, there are many solar plates on these houses,” Yoongi remarks as he drives slowly on the main street. “We could take some and find out how they work.”

“Yes, but our priority right now is food,” your remind him, putting the improvised mask over your nose again as Yoongi parks the car.

It seems that the zombies didn't come this far, or maybe they went away since there was no living here. Because of it, you calmly search inside mansion after mansion through the entire afternoon. Unfortunately, you don't find much food - as expected, someone came before you and stole everything they could find -, but many things came out handy, like clothes, utensils, more medicine, gasoline and car batteries, a 60” TV you had no idea why Yoongi wanted, and an old battery radio. After some effort, you managed to put solar plates and cables inside the van. Yoongi swore he would find a way to make it work. 

This is the last house you inspect before going away, since it's getting dark and dangerous. You just found a few canned food and more clothes, nothing more. “We better get going, Yoongi,” you say, looking out the window at the setting sun.

But you stop when you see what he's doing.

There is a beautiful white piano on the living room. Yoongi approaches it quietly and places his hand over the keys without pressing them. He just stares at it, lost in his own world.

By now, you know Yoongi used to be a musician. Your chest tighten. From being an artist to being forced to hold the machine gun he holds at the moment…

“Why don't you play it?” You question hesitantly, stepping closer. Yoongi looks at you wide eyed.

“It would be way too loud… I can attract something.”

You know he wants to do it so bad. Just a glimpse of what his life used to be, just a small taste of his old passion… 

You smile encouragingly. “We didn't encounter zombies the entire day, Yoongi. It's safe. You can do it.”

He still seems hesitant, having an inner battle. Then, his wish takes the best part of him.

Yoongi doesn't sit on the bench, choosing to keep standing. He rests his fingers over the keys and takes a deep breath before starting.

When he does, your eyes fill with tears.

It is a beautiful, melancholy melody you have never heard before; bittersweet, calming, it somehow touches your soul. It's been so long since the last time you listened to music. Yoongi looks immersed as his fingers travel with ease and confidence around the keys. It gives you a feeling of… longing.

Beautiful, however short. When he finishes, his fingers are trembling slightly.

He tries to hide the tears on his eyes.

“Yoongi, that was…” you start, sighing. Yoongi turns around to face you. “That was amaz-”

“Y/N!”

You get scared at his sudden scream, the alarm on his eyes.

You feel arms surroundings your neck and the sticky feeling of decomposing flesh touching you.

The creature grunts right beside your ear, grabbing you with incredible force for a dead corpse. Panic takes control of you; you stumble back and fall over the zombie, yet the creature don't let you go. 

Your shoulder hurts. It's the feeling of something digging on your skin.

You fight to free yourself of its grasp; taking the gunshot, you manage to shoot its arm somehow and get up in a jump. The second you break apart, Yoongi shoots its head.

“Yoongi, I-” you turn around to him-

And he's aiming at your head.

“Oh my God,” he exclaims, hands shaking.

Yoongi is staring at your shoulder.

A deep cut.

You immediately lose your breath. Did it bite me? Did it scratch me?!

Am I… infected?!

You look up at Yoongi again, eyes filled with terror.

One second.

“Yoongi, you have to shoot me,” you say, voice shaking.

He just keeps aiming, hands trembling.

Two seconds.

“Yoongi!”

“Shut up!” He screams. You've never heard him using this tone before.

Three seconds.

“Yoongi, please! Save yourself!” You plead, tears streaming down your face.

Four seconds.

“You said you wouldn't hesitate!”

He's holding the weapon so tightly that the knots of his fingers get white.

Five seconds.

“This can't be happening. Not again. Not again…” Yoongi says, shaking his head, eyes filled with tears.

Six seconds.

“Yoongi…” you sob.

He passes his hand over his hair angrily. “Fuck!” He screams at the top of his lungs. “I can't!”

Seven seconds.

“Not you!” 

You sob harder, fists tight. “Yoongi, save yourself!” You repeat.

Eight seconds.

“I don't wanna lose you!” He screams, a single tear trickling down his cheek.

Nine seconds.

“Shoot!” You yell.

Yoongi aims again.

You close your eyes tightly and wait for whatever's about to come…

Ten seconds.

…

Eleven seconds.

Twelve seconds.

You open your eyes again and look at your hands. 

You don't feel any change.

Fifteen seconds.

Yoongi stares at you in shock.

“I-I…” you stutter, looking at him.

Twenty seconds.

“I think it was a glass shard-”

Yoongi drops the machine gun and engulfs you in a hug.

He tightens his arms around you and grips your shirt hard. You stand there astonished for a moment until the tears start falling uncontrollably and you're a sobbing mess; you try to hug him weakly. His entire form is shaking, his breathing is irregular, he presses your bodies together until there is no space existent between you two.

Yoongi has never been so close to you. Not like this. You feel fear, but you also feel relief and comfort. It seems that he doesn't want to leave you at all; he even forgets about your injury and squeezes it.

“Don't you… don't you ever scare me like that again,” he sobs in your ear. You just nod, unable to speak, too overwhelmed by this moment that you somehow don't want to end.

But it has to come to an end, and Yoongi is the first one to realize it. He steps away and holds your arms softly - puffy eyes, reddish nose.

“W-We need to go,” he says. “We must have attracted many of them. Let's go.”

Yoongi takes the machine gun again and grabs your hand, running out of the house. He just lets go of your hand when you enter the car and he's obligated to drop it in order to drive.

His hands are still shaking as he does.

“I'm sorry,” Yoongi asks for the hundredth time as he sees your expression of pain. “I'm almost done.”

Both of you learned how to sew a cut, but it's the first time it became necessary. The cut on your shoulder was too deep and just gaze wouldn't be enough. Yoongi also had to take small shards of glass from inside the cut and disinfect it. He isn't a specialist, however you could tell he was doing his best not to hurt you even more.

“Now I just have to put the bandage,” he announced and you finally put the lantern over the table. 

“There's gonna be a scar,” you remark.

“A war scar. It's cool. Increases respect,” he says, shrugging, and you can't help but smile. He is trying to make you feel better. Yoongi knows you so well at this point that he can see how scared you still are; just remembering the guttural sound of that thing in your ear makes you shiver.

“Done,” he says. “You should not make much effort with this arm until you heal.”

You nod. You have already cleaned yourself and put clean clothes, and after eating dinner, you feel the tiredness smashing your body. Without saying anything else, you head to your room.

Ever since you arrived here, no more nightly vigilances are necessary; you have put many traps around the entire area, the windows and doors are protected by steel bars and many padlocks, you made sure to block each and every gap in the ceiling. Yoongi still insists in keeping awake until late at night, but after all this time, only one zombie appeared and you quickly got rid of it.

It doesn't mean you're completely safe, of course. You'll never be safe. 

And the idea that many of them will appear and surround you inside the house still haunts you everyday - especially now that you can't even close your eyes despite all the tiredness, because you feel as if there's one creature hiding in the shadows, waiting to jump on you the same way it happened today-

You get up from bed in a jump.

Quietly, you walk over to Yoongi's room and knocks three times.

You hear him stumbling immediately and opening the door in a rush, his hair and clothes a mess, eyes widened. “What happened?!” 

“Ah… nothing happened.” You gulp and scratch the nape of your neck. “It's just that… I can't sleep.”

Yoongi looks down at you with one quirked eyebrow. “This is why you woke me up?”

Suddenly, you feel embarrassed - but he's right, you already woke him up, so it's better to blurt out what you want.

“C-Can I sleep with you?” You stutter.

Yoongi widens his eyes again.

“Why?” He asks. Yoongi can be very dumb sometimes. You avoid his gaze, even more embarrassed.

“I'm scared,” you confess in a whisper.

Yoongi takes so long to move or say anything that you're about to turn around and get into your room again, not knowing how you'll cope with the shame of being turned down, until Yoongi finally opens the door wide and steps aside.

“Okay,” he says quietly.

You enter his room and he closes the door. It feels awkward; Yoongi is moving around in a strange way, as if he himself doesn't know what to do.

When you both finally lay under the covers, a deep silence hovers above you. You're as stiff as a board; you don't dare to move one muscle.

You're happy it's too dark to see anything, because you don't want Yoongi to see your embarrassed face. Maybe it was a stupid, childish idea and you should have stayed in your room-

“I am scared, too.”

You turn your head in Yoongi's direction, surprised. He never talks about his feelings. He never demonstrates fear. He doesn't like to be saw as weak.

The sincerity in his voice touches you.

“I don't want to put you in danger anymore,” he whispers.

You don't know exactly what he means, and it doesn't really matter at the moment. His voice is fragile, featherlight. You remember the way he hugged you earlier today, how desperate he sounded… You thought he reacted this way due to the heat of the moment, you didn't think he would say something like that after all…

“I wish you wouldn't be in danger, too,” you whisper back.

Yoongi doesn't say anything else.

You feel him moving beside you. You feel him getting closer. You feel his arms embracing your body slowly, pushing you closer to him, until you head is pressed against his chest. 

He sighs.

This moment feels too delicate and intimate. You both just admitted your fears and cares for each other, you are trying to get comfort in each other. You hug his waist, you feel his scent. Yoongi caresses your hair slowly until finally falls asleep.

For the first time, you feel safe.

Yoongi wakes you up with the most astonished expression one morning.

“You need to see this,” he says, and the way his eyes are sparkling is enough to make you jump off the bed and head downstairs after him.

The TV you brought weeks ago is turned on. Yoongi kept his promise: he found out how the solar plates worked and installed it, bringing electricity to your house. Seeing lamps brightening the house during the night or the microwave working felt like some sort of witchcraft after so long, honestly - and seeing Yoongi's gummy smile as he admired his hard work was totally worth it.

The thing he was most excited about was the TV, but, as expected, it didn't find any channel. You supposed it happened because there wasn't anyone monitoring the satellites anymore. Yoongi tried and tried and tried all those weeks, but still, the screen didn't show anything.

Until now.

You gasp loudly when see the image of a man on the great TV.

“What- How did you-?” You stutter, too shocked.

“I don't know,” Yoongi says, sounding as shocked as you. “I tuned in with this channel somehow. It's repeating the same video over and over.”

You sit down on the couch and watch.

It's much different from the fancy TV productions you remembered; you figured it was probably recorded with a simple phone judging by the quality of the video. The man is sitting in front of a simple white wall. It's the first person other than Yoongi you see in more time than you can remember and this fact itself is shocking.

“We finally connected with a satellite. We hope that this message will reach as many people as we can,” his voice echoes around the living room. It makes goosebumps cross all over your body. “My name is Uriah. I am part of an organization called HS. This organization is an union between scientists and military… well, what still remains of it. Our goals are to protect as many humans as we can and to find a cure to the virus.”

You look at Yoongi with widened eyes for a moment. You have discussed many times if any government or organization still remained…

“We have been gathering information and research about the virus. Although it's hard to communicate with our branches, we have made significant improvements. We still do not know the cure to the virus, however, we discovered a way to live free from it.”

You hold your breath and grip the couch tight.

“The virus does not spread under temperatures below zero.” the man says. “Because of that, we have been building forts in these environments. Our main and greatest forts are placed in Greenland and Antarctica, but these are not the only ones; we have built forts on the peak of mountain chains. Right now, we are making an invitation.”

The man leans closer to the camera, looking directly at the lenses with hopeful eyes and you feel he's looking at you. 

“If you're watching this… if you somehow managed to survive, if you're doing your best to keep alive… come to us. Our forts are ready to receive you. We have medicine, doctors, potable water, plantations and animals. We can help you. We know that it will be a tough journey, but please, do not give up. We'll do our best to help you. It doesn't matter who you are or  where you are ; come to us. The coordinates of our forts will be shown now.”

His image fades and a screen full of coordinates takes place.

You sit there.

Still. Barely breathing.

One or two minutes after, the man shows up again. “We finally connected with a satellite. We hope that this message…”

You're not listening anymore.

“Yoongi…” you call under your breath, gulping. He sits by your side. 

You just fall in silence and watch the whole video all over again.

And again.

And again.

Until Yoongi speaks up.

“That coordinate,” he says quietly. “It's considerably close.”

You side eye him. “It is literally in another estate, Yoongi. It is far.”

“But it's the closest.”

You turn your entire body on his direction, frowning. Yoongi doesn't look back at you. “You're not considering this, are you?”

“You heard them, Y/N.” He crosses his arms. “They have food, water and medicine.”

“But we don't know who these people are! We talked about it many times. People, they are… they are different now. What if that's just a lie?”

He keeps silent and stares at his own lap for many seconds, avoiding your gaze. The living room feels heavy with tension, the air is almost thick.

“I've been thinking a lot since the last time we left the house,” he starts quietly, carefully, weakly. “That time when you… when you were almost infected. And I realized that… this place is much more dangerous than I supposed.”

“Yoongi, no zombie even approached this place ever since we arrived-”

“But they wander, Y/N.” He finally looks at you, gaze shadowed by seriousness and concern. “You know it very well. After they don't find anyone to eat, they start wandering around, searching unconsciously. You were right back then. What if a horde surrounds the house? We won't have anywhere to go, our guns won't be enough. Staying here is waiting for death.”

Silence falls over you two again.

“But… but you were the one who said that running from place to place is dangerous. We'll never be truly safe.” You try to convince him.

Yoongi sighs.

“I told you… I don't want you to be in danger anymore. This travel will be dangerous, but if we make it, it will be the last time.”

When you look at Yoongi's dark eyes again, you know he already decided.

There's no turning back.

“This isn't happening,” you whisper. “This can't be real.”

Your feet are rooted on the floor. The freezing wind seems to be cutting your cheeks; not even the heavy clothes seems to be enough. The air lacks oxygen, the pressure already makes you feel dizzy and nauseous.

This can't be happening.

“There must be another way,” Yoongi says, walking to side to side nervously, running his hand over the cap. 

“The other trail is at the opposite side.”

“Then, let's make our way back-”

“They are coming for us, Yoongi.”

He stops.

Yoongi opens his mouth as if about to say something, but stops.

This can't be happening.

After all your efforts. After almost one month traveling, going farther than you've ever went. After leaving the comfort and security of your house in the hopes to find something better, after going through so much danger, now that you're so close-

No.

You can't go back, because slowly but surely, a horde is coming for you two.

You can't go forward because there are giant rocks blocking the way up.

An avalanche.

You look, speechless and motionless, to the wall of rocks and ice in front of you. You can't drive through it and you can't climb either - even if you do, walking up the mountain is a death sentence. You don't have enough food, clothes and the equipment necessary. 

A dead end.

Yoongi stops for a moment. He's pale, desperate.

"Let's explode it."

"How?" You ask weakly.

"I don't know. We have some gasoline. We could try something. We could open our way through the rocks." His voice is shaking, uncharacteristically high pitched.

"It won't work."

"Why?!"

"Because the noise will attract even more zombies. Besides, we could make another avalanche."

He stands there, his hands on each side of his waist. He's trembling. You don't know if it's due to the cold or fear.

"We need to do something."

"We can't do anything, Yoongi." You hate the way you're saying it. You hate the sound of your voice. You hate to feel this defeated. You hate the tears trickling down your cheeks.

Yoongi stares at you. He looks mad. "No. I can't accept it. After everything we went through…"

He has always been the most hopeful of you two. Seeing him hopeless is the worst of it all. The despair, the fear, the madness on his eyes are what hurts the most.

But then, you see it.

Resolve.

"At least one of us will survive." He says under his breath. You frown, confused, as Yoongi walks back to the van.

"What?" 

"One of us will survive." He repeats loudly this time. His steps are heavy, hands shaking. "We still have some bullets. I will hold them back as much as I can and you climb the wall."

Your eyes widen.

Yoongi takes some things from inside the van.

No.

"You can make it if you take clothes enough." He starts to shove the little food you still have inside a backpack. "Take food and a pistol. I'm sure someone will find you up there."

"Yoongi-"

"Come on, you need to hurry up! You have a few minutes before they arrive." He placed the backpack on your weak hands. Yoongi avoids your gaze, moves rapidly, almost automatically. "Take my coat with you. You'll need it."

He starts to take the coat off.

No.

You drop the bag and hold Yoongi's face with both hands.

He stops and widens his eyes, almost as if he had woken up from a trance.

"Yoongi, what do you mean?!" You never sounded so scared in your life.

He swallows hard before speaking.

"You must survive." His voice is almost inaudible over the wind. "I-I… I need to make sure you survive."

No.

"I won't let you do it!" You can't hide your emotions anymore. "Stop trying to act like a hero, Yoongi!"

"You need to make it, don't you understand?!" He is screaming by now, holding your shoulders, almost shaking you. His eyes are widened. A tear trickles down his cheek. "All I've done up until now was meant to keep you alive. I don't care about myself anymore. You need to go up that mountain and survive!"

A sob.

All the suppressed feelings explode all at once. Everything that held you back seemed to not exist anymore.

You kiss him.

Your lips smash against his abruptly. Yoongi gasps, surprised, and stands there in shock for some seconds - but he kisses you back with the same passion you kiss him. He hugs you tightly, hands grasping your clothes, and your arms embrace his neck - both desperate to get closer, to feel better.

The kiss carries all the unsaid words, all the subtle touches, all the avoided gazes and the silenced wants. It's rough, it's desperate, it makes your body heat up despite the low temperature around you. You grip his hair, fingers trembling, tears falling. Yoongi became the most important person in your life. Because of him, you were able to carry on all this time. You can't lose him now.

When your lips finally break apart, you're both out of breath.

You look right into Yoongi's eyes.

If the world was still what it used to be, you don't think you'd get along well at first. You were too different from each other. You wonder if your friends would like Yoongi. You can imagine your best friend texting you, saying that he's handsome, but strange. You can imagine you and him discussing what was the best hip hop album of all time. You see yourself sharing an ear bud with Yoongi, listening to a song he made. You imagine yourself texting him and your stomach twirling when he replies. You imagine Yoongi introducing you to his friends. You imagine yourself sitting on the bleachers, watching him playing basketball, sending you a gummy smile from time to time. You imagine yourself having dates late at night when Yoongi couldn't sleep; you'd go to a convenience store to buy snacks, walk around the park in the chilly night, lay in the grass and star gaze, kiss under the moonlight.

If the world was still what it used to be, everything would be perfect.

But it's not.

Your family and friends are dead. They will never meet Yoongi. You'll never do the things you wanted to do.

However, as you stand there in the snow with him - both weak and thin, scared and cold, about to die - you realize that things couldn't be more perfect.

Because you have each other.

"You know why I am still alive?" You ask him, sobbing, caressing his cheek. "You know why I decided to survive all this time? Because of you, Yoongi. You made me live. I… I can't live without you anymore. If you die today, I'd rather die too than to live in a world where you're not with me."

Yoongi closes his eyes. More tears fall. He's beautiful, you think. So, so beautiful.

"I'm with you 'till the end of the line. It doesn't matter how things will end, as long as we end together."

Yoongi kisses you again. Strongly, passionately. Why did you hesitate all this time? You realize now that you shouldn't have kept yourself so distant. You should have enjoyed your time with him more.

He breaks the kiss, but keeps you close. He analyzes your features with those gorgeous dark eyes. You love his eyes. You love him.

Yoongi nods seriously. You still see resolve. Because that's just who Yoongi is: he refuses to give up.

"Let's go back and try the way up at the other side of the mountain." He says seriously. 

There is no reason to question him. Yoongi has been right about so many things. If he still has hope, if he still thinks you can make it, then you can make it and you will make it.

You run and get into the van again. 

Both ready to do the impossible.

Ready to die. That's what you've been ready to do all along, right? The end line has been right in front of you, peeking on the horizon just at sight all this time. You might cross it today, or tomorrow, or next week...

It doesn’t matter.

As long as you have him... the ending doesn't matter.

[writingkeepsmewhole]

Angel Eyes

This is part 1 of a new fic I’m starting. It’s called Angel Eyes and it’s going to be following the show Supernatural from the end of season 3. I really hope yall like it I have spent a lot of time planing this so let me know what yall think. Also this is day 8 of my 365 fic challange.

Fic Summary: Claudia has been with the Winchesters her whole life. Her with them at the beginning of them trying to find John and her at the end of losing his son. (That sucked)

Dean Winchester x OC Claudia AKA Callie

Warnings:Blood, death, sadness, language.

Let me know if you want to be tagged.

I woke with someone shaking me making me sit up quickly slamming my head into something hard.

"Ow, what the hell!" I said turning to look at Dean's shadowed face.

"We're here." He said smiling an ear to ear grin at me. 

"I hate you." I said flipping him off and sitting up all the way. 

Feeling something tickle my arm I looked over to see Dean holding a hair tie between his pointer and middle finger.

"Drop something." 

"Thanks." 

Smiling a little at him I pulled my long raven hair back putting it in a high ponytail as soon as I did I felt Dean tug on it softly.

"Come knock it off before I tell Sammy how much his big brother missed him." I said sticking my tongue out at him.

"I didn't miss him, you know why we're here." 

"I know. I'm just teasing."

"Well lets go before you start something you can't finish."  He said taking the keys out and opening the door. 

"Oh I always finish." I said once I was out of the car.

"Whatever you say Callie."

Flicking him in the back of the arm I ran off in front of him quickly climbing the fire escape to Sam's apartment. I stopped when I got about halfway up not knowing which one was his. 

Dean was quickly in front of me picking the lock of the window. Watching him I smiled softly. He would never say it out loud, maybe not even in his head but he missed his little brother. He didn't want to hurt his pride by calling or coming to see him for no reason. But that's just the way Dean was, the way he has always been. 

Climbing in the window after Dean my knee hit the lamp on the table making it fall over and break.

"I didn't do that." I whispered biting my lip and looking up at Dean.

"We'll get it later let's see if we can find any blackmail on Sammy before we wake him." Dean said shutting the window behind me his chest brushing my shoulder. 

"Your so mean."

"I'm not mean I'm smart he might not come with us." 

"Darlin' he is gonna come you know he will."

"I hope." Dean mumble

I opened my mouth to reply but a rough warm hand covered it. Looking up at Dean he pressed his finger to his lips and pushed my back into the wall of the kitchen. He smirked and walked down the hall to what I'm guessed to scare his baby brother. 

Not even two minutes later I could hear fist meeting hard muscle. Sighing I walked into the living room and turned on the light to find Dean pinning Sam to the floor. 

"Are you two done." I said making them both look up at me. 

I got a boyish grin from Dean and a confused look from Sam. 

"Callie?" He asked

"In the flesh." I said smiling widely

"Get off me." Sam said pushing at Dean

"Wouldn't have to if you were not so out of practice?" Dean said jumping up and pulling Sam to his feet.

"What the hell are you two doing here?"

"Well I was looking for a beer." Dean said making me giggle.

"Sam what's going on?" Asked a soft voice from behind me making me turn quickly. 

Behind me was a tall blonde, dressed in a cropped smurf tee and short shorts.

"I take it your Sam’s girlfriend." I said smiling and waving a little. 

"Umm, yeah." She said confused.

"Jess. This is my brother Dean and my little sister Claudia." 

"We can't all be freakishly tall Sammy." I said glaring at him and moving to stand next to Dean.

"Love your shirt. The Smurfs great show but hey I gotta tell ya your out my brothers league." Dean said taking a step closer to her. 

I could not help but roll my eyes and cross my arms. I felt my face scrunch up with confusion when a heat ran threw me making my stomach flip but not in a good way. Shaking my head a little I cleared my thoughts to see that Sam had his arm wrapped around Jess tells Dean that he could say anything in front of her.

"Um okay, dad hasn't been home in a few days."

"He's probably working overtime he'll stumble in sooner or later."

"Dad's on a hunting trip and he hasn't been home in a few days." Dean says a little more slower and clearer to get the point across.

That was the start of our journey. The start of years full of always being one step behind. We found John, even found the thing that started this whole mess. Losing Dad wasn’t the hard part. Even losing Sam wasn’t. But everything changed after Dean died. Nothing was the same after that.

How are you?I'm sorry, If you need anything... That's what you always say whenever someone dies. Trying to tell them you understand and wish you could help them with their pain. I just never thought it would happen to me. I always guessed I would be the one to go out first. Being the smallest of everyone I knew I was always easy picking for the things we hunted down. 

Witches, ghosts, werewolves and everything thing in between that's what I hunted.

Or rather that's what we hunted. My names Claudia I'm the adopted daughter of John Winchester.

I was taken in by him after demons killed my parents. I witnessed the whole thing. John found me because I finally crawled out from my place behind the couch. After he exercised the Damon out of the policeman that came into my home.

They all died leaving me alone covered in my mother's blood.

I was four. 

That was 23 years ago. A lot has changed since then. I was no longer the little girl hidden behind the sofa. I knew how to kill the monsters under my bed. That didn't prepare me for what I was going to have to go threw tonight. Tonight is the night I'll lose my best friend and the only man I ever had feelings for.

I sat in the back of the impala us racing towards the demon that held Dean's contract. The thing that said Dean was running out of time. That he would be dead, killed by the hounds of hell tonight if we didn't pull this thing off.

Sam was determined to make it happen. He felt like he owed Dean, since Dean sold his soul to bring Sam back from the dead.

I wasn't so hopeful. I was scared but I didn't show it. The same way Dean didn't show that he was already hearing the howls of the hounds or seeing things. I knew. I always knew when Dean was hurting he didn't put up as tall of a wall when he was around me like he did with his baby brother. 

Dean was running out of time and he knew it. He never seemed to care if he lived or died. Something that always broke my heart.

"Hey Dean." Sam says pulling me from my thoughts.

"Yeah?" He says answering him.

"If tonight... If this doesn't go the way we planned, I just want you to know-."

"No, no, no we're not going to do the last goodbye speech. I mean if this is my last night on earth I do not want it to be socially awkward." Dean says making my eyes water.

"You know what I want." He says putting in a casest tape.

Wanted dead or alive filling the car.

"Bon Jovi?" Sam asks looking at Dean. 

"Bon Jovi rocks. On occasion." Dean says holding up his hand.

"So I walk these streets, with a loaded six string on my back!" Dean sings loudly.

"Come on." He says smacking Sam's chest his green eyes bouncing back to meet mine. 

I smile at him and join in on the singing. Sam joining us. As we do, I can't help but feel like this song fits Dean. Looking at his face I realize he's not singing anymore. A look of dread in his eyes, of sadness.

Meeting his eyes I he smiles and winks at me. Something he's done for years he's way of saying he's got this that everything will be fine.

I smile back it sad and not expressing the hurt in my chest. I can't stop the tear that runs down my face. I wipe it away but not before he sees. No never before he sees. 

We were running out of time, and Lilith was nowhere to be found. If we couldn’t kill her we couldn’t save Dean. I was with Sam and Ruby a demon that was helping us find her. But I knew deep down it wouldn’t work. I kept checking the time counting down the minutes. Knowing there was nothing I could do. 

“No we can still save him right?” Sam says looking at Ruby.

“There’s no time. You can just flip the script.

“There’s gotta be some way, whatever it is I’ll do it.”

“No, you won’t.” Dean says walking into the room.

“Dean I’m not gonna let you go to hell.”

“Yes you are!.” Dean yells making me jump.

I wrap my arms around myself hating this.

“Yes you are.” He says again but this time calm.

“I’m sorry, I mean this is all my fault I know that. But what your doing it’s not gonna save me, it’s only gonna kill you.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Sam asks his eyes watering.

“Keep fighting, take care of my wheels. Sam remember what dad taught ya, kay?” Dean says, Sam nodding.

“Remember what I taught you.” Dean says making my heart clench.

I lift my hand and quickly swipe the rears off my face.. 

“Hey how's my girl doing?” Dean asked taking a step to stand in front of me.

“Not so great.” I say my voice cracking, Dean placing his on my face his thumbs wiping off my cheeks.

“I’m gonna really miss you.” I say trying my best not to cry.

“Yeah I know, me too.” He his bloodshot eyes meeting mine.

“I need you to be strong for me.”

I nod not trusting my voice.

“Take care of Sammy don’t let him do what I did.”

I again nod moving forward to wrap my arms around him, hugging him tightly. He returns it him kissing the top of my head.

Pulling away from me he strokes my face lifting it up. I feel like the world stops when he leans down and presses his lips to mine. Them at first barely brushing mine then he deepens the kiss.

It soft and sad. The taste of my tears mixing in. His lips were soft and warm. Familiar as if I've done this a hundred times before. It was the first time Dean ever kissed me and it would be the last. That thought making my heart clench.

I practically jumped when the ner by clock struck twelve. I felt like I was in a messed fairy tale 

It was time we were too late. Pulling away from Dean I made myself look at him really look at him. This would be the last time I saw him.

"I'm sorry Dean. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy." Ruby says looking at us.

I feel and watch Dean tense up him turning to look over to the side.

“Hell hound.” He says softly, his grip on me tightening.

“Where?”

“There.” He says looking next to the table in the dining room.

“Run!” He says grabbing my hand and pulling me behind him as we run down the hall and into the study.

Sam and Ruby holds the door shut as Dean pours goofer dust along the door. Having my own bag I go to the window, Dean quickly joining me.

“Give me the knife maybe I can hold them off.” Ruby says to Sam, talking about the knife that could kill demons.

“Wait!” Dean says making me turn to look at him.

“Sam that’s not Ruby.”

As soon as Dean says that I feel my back get slammed into the wall being pinned there. It felt like I was being pushed down my brick wall.

“How long you been in her?” Dean ask groaning as he tries to fight to get up from being pinned to the table.

“Not long.” Ruby will Ruby’s body says.

“But I like it, it’s all grown up and pretty.” She says her eyes turning white.

“So where’s Ruby?” Sam asks.

“She was a very bad girl, so I sent her far far away.”

“You know I should have seen it before, but you all look alike to me.” Dean says.

Ruby glares at him but turns her attention to Sam. I try to push myself off the wall, the demon knife at my feet. My head pounding as I do,

“So is this your plan?” Dean asks her.

“Drag me to hell, kill Sam and Claudia and what become queen bitch?”

“I don’t have to answer to puppy chow.”

She says walking over to the door, my heart drops as I watch her open the door.

“No, don’t!” I yell as I watch Dean get dragged off the table his leg being torn to shreds.

“Stop!” Sam yells.

I push hard on the force holding me down as I watched Dean get attacked it making my head pound and my heart race, but I didn’t care.

I don’t know what happened but I suddenly fell to the floor, quickly rushing over to Dean. I scream loudly as I feel invisible claws dig into my side cutting down to my hip.

“That’s impossible.” Lillith says.

But I don’t listen to her, my head is swimming with pain and dizziness. I look at Dean his green eyes meeting mine. I was covered in his blood and a part of him was covered in mine.

“I’m sorry.” I say holding his head in my lap.

He smiles at me as his bright eyes go dim, there life draining into nothing. I take a shaky breath as the room is filled with white it that last thing I remember before I passed out.

[madlori]

Unveiled Chapter 5

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Epilogue

by MadLori Word Count: 2500 Fandom: Men’s Hockey RPF Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin Rating: NC-17 (like, heed this, please) Tags: Arranged Marriage, Modern Royalty AU, Mpreg, Not Omegaverse, No Consent Issues, Veiled Sex, Weird Traditions, Don’t Think Too Hard, Handwavey Biology

Definitely sex in this one.

Read it on AO3

Just before lunch, Dr. Rjskov came to Zhenya’s office. “It’s about His Highness, sir.”

Zhenya jumped up. “Is he all right?”

“He’s quite well. But his best fertility window is closing for the month. I thought you should be advised. It is of course up to you and your husband how you conduct your relationship, but he’ll be unlikely to conceive as of this afternoon.”

“This...afternoon?”

“Yes, I advised His Highness that his hormones were shifting last night, and that they’d reach their baseline levels around lunchtime today.”

“Ah.” Zhenya sat down, feeling a little deflated. That explained the surprise morning sex. His consort had wanted one last try for a conception before his fertility window closed. It had nothing to do with any thirst he had for Zhenya’s cock. “Thank you for the update, Doctor. You’ll advise us when his fertility window reopens?”

“Of course, sir. About three weeks.” He bowed and excused himself.

Zhenya sat there for a few minutes, staring down at his desktop, littered with the latest notes and suggestions from his consort’s perusal of the memos and white papers he’d gotten from Seryozha. He got to his feet, grabbed his coat and strode out of the office.

A walk. That was a fine idea. That’d set him to rights.

It was sort of working, too, until he took a turn around the athletic fields and came upon the consort and his guards in the lower rugby pitch. They were engaged in some kind of hand-to-hand combat training and, to his surprise, his husband was participating in it.

The guards were all clad in black training gear; a variety of pads, weapons and training aids were scattered in the grass. His stomach clenched; his consort was sparring with Sidney. Because that was just what he needed -- to watch a karmic re-enactment of his inner turmoil.

Sidney was shirtless, his muscled torso shining with sweat and his hands and wrists wrapped. Zhenya’s consort was wearing the same training kit the other guards were wearing, with the addition of...well, he wouldn’t have thought there was such a thing as an athletic veil, but there seemed to be. These gray veils looked to be lighter weight than his usual ones but were still opaque, and they were fastened to his clothing at strategic points to prevent them from flying up and exposing him when he moved quickly. The sides were shorter, to let his arms move freely, but his torso was still covered.

Zhenya lurked in the shadows near the gear shed and watched, feeling like a creeper. Letang was directing the sparring, and neither Sidney nor the consort seemed to be holding anything back. He watched as they moved quickly around each other, hands and feet flashing, his consort’s veils billowing around his head. Sidney was laughing, and Zhenya suddenly realized that his consort was, too. Of course, he wouldn’t be aware that Zhenya could hear him. It would be improper for him to continue to observe in secret.

He stepped out of the shadows and approached, telling himself that he had every right to walk on the grounds of his own palace. His consort saw him and abruptly drew back, causing Sidney to turn around to see what had gotten the consort’s attention. He grinned -- dear God, that smile. Zhenya forced himself to look only at his consort as he nodded to him and the rest of the group.

“Your Royal Highness, good morning,” Fleury said. “We were just sparring. We’re all feeling like we need some exercise.”

Zhenya nodded. As long as his consort was present, he was prohibited from speaking, a fact that Fleury seemed to abruptly remember. “Of course. Uh...your Highness, perhaps Kris should escort you back to the palace.”

The consort waved to him; Zhenya waved back as Letang and another of the guards (his name started with J...was it Justin? Jeff?) flanked him and they walked back up the hill. 

The other guards were gathering up the pads and gear. “If you’ll excuse us, sir, we should return to our duties.” Fleury bowed and followed Kris, the rest of the guards save Sidney trailing behind him.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your exercise,” Zhenya said.

Sidney shrugged, unwinding the tape from his hands. “We got in a good hour. He was feeling restless.”

“Were you going easy on him?”

“Did it look that way?”

“No, it didn’t.”

“He doesn’t need me to. He’s a good fighter. Almost as good as me,” he said, winking. “Then again, I taught him everything he knows.”

Zhenya shoved his hands in his pockets. “I keep stumbling over skills my husband possesses which I do not.”

“You could learn. I’ll teach you.”

“I’m a bit old to learn new tricks.”

“Ah yes, so old. What are you, twenty-seven?”

“Suck-up. I’m thirty-one, as you well know.”

“I’m thirty. Do I seem infirm to you?”

He couldn’t help it, his eyes crawled down Sidney’s absolutely not-infirm body. “No.”

“You’re in good shape, I’ve seen you running on the grounds.”

Zhenya swallowed hard at the thought of Sidney watching him run. “I do have a concern about my consort engaging in this kind of exercise. It’s too early for us to know, but he very well could be pregnant. Given how much effort we put into getting him that way, a stray blow to the stomach seems like a big risk. It could jeopardize everything.”

Sidney’s jaw tightened a little. “Isn’t that his call to make?”

“I don’t think it’s unreasonable that I have some input as well.”

Sidney kept his eyes on his tape-unwinding. “Perhaps he didn’t think about that. I’ll remind him. There are ways we can spar that wouldn’t pose a danger.” He met Zhenya’s eyes. “He’d no more want to endanger a pregnancy than you would, that much I know.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“He’s…” Sidney pulled on his shirt and shouldered his bag. “I think he might be frustrated that the fertility window is up today.”

“I’ve been advised. I’m surprised he’d share that with you, if you’ll pardon me saying so.”

“There isn’t a lot we don’t share between us. All of us. We’re the only ones he can really be free with. For the time being.”

“Of course.” They started walking back toward the palace. “I admit I don’t really know what to do now. I’d be disappointed not to see him for three weeks.”

“You mean not to sleep with him.”

“Only in part.”

“You think he would want to stop until the next window?”

“I have no idea what he wants.” Zhenya couldn’t believe he was discussing what was a private matter between him and his consort with a man who he could no longer deny he was wildly attracted to. “If our goal is his fertilization, why would he wish to continue?”

Sidney laughed. “You have strange ideas about consorts. The veil doesn’t turn off his libido. He’s a human, Zhenya. Of course he’s going to want to keep having sex. He has an attractive partner available to him on demand. Why wouldn’t he keep partaking of that?”

Zhenya had stopped walking and just stood there, blinking. “You think so?”

He looked back, amusement in his eyes. “I’m kind of amazed I have to tell you that.”

His mind was rewinding Sidney’s statement. “You think I’m attractive?”

A flush bloomed on Sidney’s cheeks. “Just quoting the consort.”

“Oh.” Zhenya hesitated. “He thinks I’m attractive?”

“Quit fishing for compliments,” Sidney said, laughing.

Zhenya resumed walking at Sidney’s side. “You called me Zhenya.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

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

Zhenya did not receive an appointment confirmation card that afternoon, to his dismay. What he did receive was another knock on his door later that evening, after he had retired to his chamber. He nearly injured himself leaping off the bed and dashing to respond.

He barely had the door shut behind him before his consort was undressing him again, but this time Zhenya intended to make his own plans. He slid his hand around the consort’s waist and down to cup his ass, pulling him tight to his chest. His other hand dipped between the consort’s legs to grasp his stiffening cock. He gave it a few strokes, staring down at his husband’s veiled face and wishing he could see his eyes, and then Zhenya dropped to his knees before him. He heard a quiet sigh from above that turned into a surprised gasp when he swallowed him down, allowing himself the pleasure of grabbing two large handfuls of his backside. He felt hands grip his hair and the consort rocked forward into his mouth. Zhenya pulled back a little and tugged at his hips, hoping to communicate to him that yes, that was what he should do. The consort got the message and began to fuck his mouth, cautiously at first and then with more vigor as Zhenya encouraged him with tugs and strokes and glances up at his veiled face. He slipped one hand between the consort’s legs and found him wet; Zhenya slid two fingers into his pussy and stroked him, eliciting more strangled gasps and groans from above. His fingers wet, he moved them back to his ass, circling the entrance for a moment to give him time to object, and when no objection came, slid one, then two inside.

That pushed his partner right over the edge. He grunted and came hard down Zhenya’s throat. Zhenya pulled off and stroked him through it, his consort’s whole body quivering. His husband dropped to his knees and let his veiled head fall to Zhenya’s shoulder; he was limp dead weight in Zhenya’s arms. Zhenya grinned, pleased with this result. 

The consort’s hand wandered to Zhenya’s still-hard cock, a clear offer to assist him, but he moved it away. He guided the consort to the bed -- all he wanted right now was to jerk off all over that magnificent ass. Somehow through a mixture of gestures and touches, this was communicated between them, and his husband laid himself out very appealingly on the bed, back arched and legs spread to present his rear to its best advantage. Zhenya knelt between his spread legs and quickly fisted his cock. His consort reached back with both hands to spread his cheeks wide, his head turned so he could watch Zhenya over his shoulder. Zhenya groaned and spurted his come over the round cheeks and his consort’s exposed hole. After a few moments’ recovery, he picked up one of the many towels placed around the bedchamber by the long-suffering palace attendants and wiped his partner clean, or as clean as could be achieved in this moment.

The consort turned on his side, propping his head on an elbow as if contemplating this prince he’d married. Zhenya smiled, indicating his sleepiness with a fake yawn. The consort shifted again, moving to his back and leaning his shoulders against the copious pillows on the bed. He arranged his veils, held out his arms and beckoned with his fingers. A thrill ran up Zhenya’s spine -- was he being invited to stay with him, here? It certainly seemed so.

He crawled up the bed into the waiting, veiled arms of his husband of six days and nestled his head down in the hollow of his shoulder, draping his body across the partially hidden one beneath him. His consort’s arms came up around him and held him; peace stole across his mind and ushered him quickly into sleep.

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

“You’re in a good mood.” Sidney said, casting his line over the lake with a practiced flick of his wrist. Zhenya had started out fishing, but had given it up and was now just lounging on the dock with an ale, watching Sidney fish and absolutely not admiring the flex of his legs and back when he cast.

“I slept well.” Indeed, in his consort’s arms he had slept better than he had in months. They’d both slept like the dead and woken up slowly, touching each other awake in the dim morning light and having gentle, drowsy sex before either of them were fully alert, his husband’s body warm and welcoming, twined around him like a climbing vine. Zhenya could still feel the smooth tightness of the consort’s pussy as he’d fucked him, one of his legs hooked over Zhenya’s forearm, his hands gripping Zhenya’s shoulders and pulling him in, urging him deeper.

“Well, that’s good. Everyone needs sleep.”

Zhenya hesitated, but it seemed silly now to turn reticent. Sidney seemed to always know everything, anyway. “You were right about the consort. He still wants to have sex with me.”

“Oh, for sure. Who wouldn’t?”

“I keep waiting to find out what you’re buttering me up for.”

“You’re going to be King, isn’t that enough?” he said, looking over his shoulder with a mischievous smirk. “Doesn’t everyone suck up to you?”

“My staff don’t seem to have gotten that memo, and my friends seem to actively do the opposite.”

Sidney kept casting. “Just out of curiosity, why aren’t you the one trying to get pregnant?”

“It’s the custom. I’m the royal one.”

“The kid would be half you either way.”

“True. This is just the way it’s done. If I’d been married off to a prince and gone to another country to be his consort, I’d be the one getting knocked up.” Zhenya frowned. “Does he resent that?”

Sidney shrugged. “Not that he’s mentioned. He always talked about wanting kids. I don’t think he cared if he was going to be the one carrying them or not.”

“Tradition encourages the consort to carry the first one, but nothing’s to stop me from carrying a second one, should we decide to have another. It would be unusual, but it’s not forbidden. Maybe we could trade off.”

“Seems fair.”

“I’m glad he wants children, and it’s not just duty. It’s nice when arranged marriages aren’t entirely abhorrent.”

“He always knew he’d have one -- an arranged marriage, I mean. He tried to look at it as a way to contribute.”

“Well, he’s certainly done that.” Zhenya got up and joined him on the shore. “Why do we always talk about him?”

“He’s what we have in common.”

“Is that all?”

Sidney looked at him. “I hope not.”

“Tell me about where you grew up. Your childhood.”

He grinned. “You don’t want to hear about my stupid kid escapades.”

“Well, now I want to hear about them more.” He watched Sidney’s face flush and brighten as he began to recount a wild tale about his best friend Marc-Andre and a runaway toy wagon, and wondered why on earth he continued to torture himself.

Next Chapter

[liathgray]

Okay what about dick Almost drowning and one of the other boys saving him and then they have to sit in the cold for evac but its taking /so damn long/ and the batbro is trying so hard to keep dick (and themselves) awake and coherent and warm, of course only if you want to

The horribly familiar sound of a knife sinking into spun steel was like hearing a nail rammed into a coffin. Dick felt the give of his line, the one that was— will have been — wrapped firmly around the landing skid of a pitch-black helicopter packed full of stolen viruses and software that had to potential to collapse half the worlds economy in less then a year. As the machine rose higher, it’s blades beating gravity down with a vengeance, Dick could feel his line shiver under the stress. It was splintering and his stomach dropped at the sight of the dark expanse of water below him. They’d flown out of their way to get rid of him.Permanently.Dick’s rope was already at its end, there was no getting closer to lessen the impact onto the… the ice.Of course the water was half frozen over.Fucking Gotham.

The one night he agreed to cover for Tim and it might be his last.Wonderful.Frantically he started trying to pull a flare from his belt, hastily sending a distress beacon as he went about wrenching at the cap with his teeth.His arm was going numb as the last wire holding his aloft began to fray.Dick yanked off the activation tab and plummeted downwards.Wind pulled at his hair and lungs, stealing his breath as quickly as it did his ground above the harbour.He tried to aim his back downwards but the rushing air continually pushed his head towards to rapidly approaching tundra.It was getting closer.Too close.Way too close.And with the closeness of the freezings waters and sheet of ice came the dawning realization that he wasn’t getting out of this.With only meters between him and hypothermia, Dick let out a desperate shout, twisting near violently to get his feet under him before a sickening crunch reached his ears.He felt his bones shattering, not clean breaks, pressing hard against his skin.In the micro second before he was plunged beneath the surface, the sheer amount of immediate pain knocked any remaining breath from him.The ice broke on impact, sending him in chilled waters.Dick’s body went ridged to the cold and he felt the fatigue settling into his limbs at an unprecedented pace.He was sinking. Fast.He couldn’t even force himself to move as water bit into his skin and pulled him deeper.Would they ever find his body?Dick felt a burn in his lungs, and the panic of being unable to breath spurred his muscles to draw on some reserve of adrenaline he apparently had.It had been, what, two minutes under now? Three?He couldn’t think straight.Dick tried to kick upwards to the shrinking dot of moonlight.Bad move.Pain radiated up his form from his broken legs.He placed a hand over his mouth to keep from gagging from the sudden sickness bubbling in his throat.Everything felt hot inside and frostbitten outside.He was starting to curl in on himself, nearly choking on the water slipping between his teeth and into his lungs.Everything hurt.He was tired and his vision was tilted.Dick blinked hard, trying to focus on that pinpoint of dull light that was rapidly vanishing.He was pushing six minutes, vision tunnelling and hazy buzz filling his ears.Slowly Dick pulled his hand away from his mouth, watching with horrified amusement as little bubbles rose from his lips, leaving him to suffocate. Distantly he heard thumps tracking above him, like footsteps, but…But it‘s so dark.He‘s exhausted.If he just closes his eyes for a second… just for a second… just for… just…

———————————————————

Heavy boots pounded against the ice of Gotham Harbour, steel toes leaving a trail of cleaved footprints.It was thick ice, about three and a half inches, which means it was thin enough to break with too much force but dense enough to do serious damage if you were dropped from a helicopter roughly ten stories up. Like Dick had been.The distress call had come in about five minutes ago, Jason had been two away.He’d arrived just in time to see a trail of pale yellow smoke following after something small and dark as it slammed into the mix of ice and liquid nitrogen. Followed by dreaded silence.No shouts, no splashes or gasps.Just silence.The three and a half inches of ice wasn’t thick enough to support his bike so he went on foot, cursing all the way.They damned ‘copter had flown nearly eight hundred yards out to drown their tail.Dedication, he had to admit, but it was about to get Dick killed.Differences aside, Jason doesn’t hate his predecessor. Thats not to say he’d really go out of his way for him, but he cares. Enough to hang out together every few weeks, enough to give a hand on a case or raid, and enough to not want him dead.Jason skidded to a stop at the fracture in the sea of tinted ice. Spiderwebs of cracks splintered out several feet from the hole, ones that would definitely give way under Jason’s weight.“Crap.”He yanked off his helmet and started tugging frantically at the sleeves of his jacket.As he stripped off a sweatshirt, his eyes were roaming with determination (desperation) around the landscape, looking for something— anything —sturdy.His eyes settled on a buoy frozen in place not to many paces away. With the press of a button he extends the entirety of his grappling line, the hooked end of which was tied onto the thin metal railing of the buoy, and the grip held tightly in his palm.“Okay,”He kicked off his boots, “okay. This’ll work. This’ll- yeah. Okay.”He put a rebreather between his teeth and jumped.Through the stinging cold, Jason swam down, drawing in as measured breaths as were to be expected in a situation this stressful. It was getting harder to see, his hands were numbing in the water.And he couldn’t see Dick.Silt and murk were muddling his vision and he was starting to panic.He was running out of time.Frantically he kept plunging downwards, slowing losing all sense of ocular awareness and relying mostly on touch to search for Dick’s body- for Dick.His hand brushed something solid and cool.Jason grabbed hold and pulled upwards, feeling along the form ‘til he had one arm hooked under his shoulder and held steady against his own chest.His line went taunt and began dragging two up.They broke the surface unceremoniously without shouts of victories or even a sputtering gasp.Jason spat out the rebreather and hauled Dick out of the water.He wasn’t breathing.“Shit.”The younger man tore off his glove and held two fingers to his neck.Weak pulse. Definitely filled his lungs with water on the trip down.And he’s not fucking breathing-Jason pulled Dick further from the weakened ice.He tilted the older vigilantes head upwards, pinching his nose and blowing air back into his lungs.On some level, it felt like he was defiling his, well, his brother. He should’t have to be doing this, having to do fucking rescue breaths for a comrade. He should’t have to think about him drowning or anyone else being killed every night. He could feel just how cold Dick’s skin was and the unnatural paleness to his complexion looked ghastly.“C’mon, dickhead.” He huffed, hysteria edging into his voice.“You’re too stubborn to go out like this.” A wet, strangled cough jerked through Dick’s chest, water bubbling from his mouth as he lurched onto his side.A wave of relief washed over Jason.He placed one hand on Dick’s upwards facing shoulder and the other on the small of his back to keep him steady.For minutes he sat there, keeping his brother in place as he threw up what had to be several liters of water.It was only then that Jason realized Dick was missing his mask.Probably loosened and tugged away by the will of the harbour. When the sickness seemed to pass, Jason straightened.“Hey,” he said, tightening his grip in a hopes to ground the other, “you with me?”Dick was out of it, clearly. His eyes were clouded and expression blank, but communication is helpful even if half-ass and uncertain.“Y-yeah,” he responded shakily, bracing one hand beneath him and trying to sit up.“I- shit,” Dick turned to the side and heaved. Once the tension and strain in his muscles from emptying his stomach faded, Dick practically folded in on himself.“Hey!” Jason shot forward, only just managing to kept him upright, sorta, letting the older lean against his side, an arm wrap firmly around his shoulder, “Dick? Hey, Don’t black out on me.”He heard the dull, rattling breaths plowing through Dick’s chest. The intense shivers and chattering teeth.“W-w-won’t,” he forced out between the chills running through him.“Good, cause we really gotta go.“ He snatched his jacket and sweater and off the ground, hastily wrapping Dick in both and shoving his feet into his— blessedly —dry boots.“You were under way too long and I’d rather get back before someone jacks my bike-““J-jay.” Dick interrupted breathlessly, “I c-c-c,” he swallowed back a gag and tried again.“I can’t.”Jason looked down, startled and a little confused, “What?”“M-m-my legs. I… F-fuck.”“Your… Oh.”Jason looked and felt something heavy drop in his stomach. A stone, maybe an anvil.“Christ…”They weren’t just broken. They looked like straws that some kid had been using like pipe-cleaners.Jason could feel icy beads dripping from his face as he stared in— in horror —at the mangled limbs.Possible nerve damage, months in casts and double the time in rehab. A hand was weakly pulling at the sleeve of his shirt.“Can’t wa-walk.”Dick was practically panting from the effort it took to speak, looking at Jason with tired, hazy eyes. Jason had a tendency to get tunnel vision, that was no secret. Added to the fact that he had been trying to, in effect revive, a sibling and you’re gonna have a preoccupied and shortsighted Jason. But this was something he shouldn’t’ve missed.“That’s… that’s fine. It’s not too far out. I can pull your dumb ass back in, ‘kay?”Dick stared at him blearily, blinking hard like he couldn’t get things into focus before nodding.Jason, still sitting back on his knees, drew Dick’s arms around his neck, holding them together at his sternum.“This is probably gonna hurt like hell but try not to move.”He slowly dragged himself and his brother up, wincing all the while because he could feel Dick pressing his forehead into his back and gritting his teeth hard enough to chip them. His breaths were coming in choked gasps and his shoulders were shaking worse then before.“You alright?” Jason asked.“No,” Dick replied weakly, “go.”He complied, taking long strides across the ice and peppered snow, hoping once again that no one stole his bike because otherwise they were screwed.Jason did all he could to ignore the crescents being cut into Dick’s palm as to refrain from crying out.About halfway across, Jason stumbled. His stupid boot had dug a rut into the ground and he tripped.The epitome of grace.As he regained his footing, he heard the sound of a breath hitching from his passenger. “W-why’re you ca-arryin’…” Dick shifted in his hold, “I-“ Jason felt some of the, weight lifted off his shoulders. As in, the literal weight.“Wh- Shit! Stop it!” Dick dropped back down, with what was dangerously close to being a sob. “Your legs are fucked, idiot! Did you forget about that?!” Jason shouted, feeling the first inkling of fear-driven anger bubbling in his stomach.“My..? Oh.”The confusion rolling from Dick was palpable.Jason began to trudge forward, fixing his gaze ahead where he could see his bike waiting.“H-head h’rts…”Dick mumbled between the intense inhales racketing his chest. “I know man, I know. Just keep your eyes open.”Memory loss. Bad sign. He was getting less coherent, which meant the wet uniform was making Dick quite accommodating to hypothermia.He pressed on, almost smiling when they reached his bike.But before he had the chance, he notice something.Some sick, twisted version of karma, or the universe just messing with him. Playing a gross practical joke.The fucking tires were missing.“Damnit!” He growled, kicking the absolutely useless vehicle.“What..?”He breathed out hard, eyes darting about for any signs of civility.Apparently, not to many decent people are hanging around this particular abandoned waterfront at three am.“Nothing, it’s nothing we-… we’re just gonna have to wait a bit.” He spotted a small tackle shop, about the size of those ticket booths at carnivals. Quickly as he could, Jason made his way over and kicked in the door.It was covered with layers of dust and mostly empty, save pile of well-loved plaid shirts and an old sign. The letters were too faded to make out, but it didn’t really matter.He ducked inside and pushed the busted up door shut, leaning the sign against it to keep out unwanted wind.Cautiously he let down his brother, leaning his back against a wall in a mostly upright position.Luckily Dick was still conscious.And feeling ever ounce of pain Jason inadvertently inflicted.“J-j-jay.”He stuttered, looking frustrated all the while.“Dickhead.” He deadpanned, leaning over to inspect the damage on his legs, and boy was it bad.“Hell. We’re gonna have to immobilize your legs Dick.”He pulled out a knife and started tearing the dusty old shirts into long strips.“W-wait,” Dick protested, shaking his head, “jus-s-…”He put a hand behind him to stay upright.Jason happily ignored him, instead choosing to yank the trimming off the door and line them up with Dick’s leg.Who was currently glaring at him through the exhaustion.Jason sighed, shooting the older man an almost pleading look.“Listen we can’t just leave them like this,““Sh-sh-shock.” Dick intervened, “Jay I-… I’ll.” He closed his eyes and tried in vain to slow the volatile rasps coming from his throat. “M’c-cold.”Jason hated the feeling creeping up in him. Just- just helplessness. Utterly helplessness.He’d sent out his own beacon during the trek to the tackle shack, and all he could really do was hope that someone was on their way.He backed away from the mess of skin and shattered bone“Okay.” he raised his hands in a surrender, “Okay, Dick. Just… I’m not gonna touch ‘em, yeah?”He settled besides Dick, allowing their shoulders to press against one another for warmth and maybe his own reassurance.The shaking wasn’t coming in intervals of intensity anymore, it was just a constant hum of trembling.Every few seconds Jason found himself looking down to make sure Dick was still awake. After a while he started to ramble. Not about anything in particular, just because he knew even if he was completely fine and not slowly shutting down due to freezing temperatures, Dick would be falling asleep from the stillness and silence of the room.He draped an arm across Dick’s shoulder and leaned him into his side without a problem and that was kinda the scary part.Even as he pushed through some random idea he had a few nights ago, there was a growing discomfort. Because Dick was always the one talking. He was always the one to protest and make conversation. His brother was an insanely stubborn person. Had he been even a little coherent he would’ve insisted that Jason stay in his comfort zone of almost exclusively touch through combat and antagonist rather then this. This is what scared him.That and the fact that Dick’s lips were so blue they looked pained and his skin looked like wax. “M’tired.” A soft voice broke his train of speech and he was suddenly aware of the absence of gasps and shivering.“Shit,” Jason could feel panic skipping down his spine.Dick’s body is shutting down. “M’really tired.” Breathing is way too shallow. “shit.”Jason shook him slighting, “Don’t sleep.” He demanded, gripping Dicks shoulder tight enough to bruise. Dick didn’t even have the energy to pull away.“Jay… it’s c’ld.”Jason felt like throwing up. Or hitting something. Where the hell are the rest of this stupid towns vigilantes?!A hand weakly held the hem of his shirt, “H’rts…. tired..”“Don’t sleep. Dick, listen to me. Don’t fucking sleep.” He watched uselessly as Dick blinked, long and slow, turning his head to stare up at Jason. “S’rry.”He slumped forward.Jason fumbled to keep him from knocking his head against the floorboards.“Fuck.” He muttered, he voice shaking more then he would ever admit, pulling Dick’s limp form closer in a last ditch attempt to keep him warm.He tucked his brother’s head against his shoulder, keeping one hand against his neck, feeling his pulse as is slowed.He stayed like that, trying not to panic, keeping two fingers firmly pressed into Dick’s clammy skin.Counting the beat drumming gently beneath it. He doesn’t know how long he stayed frozen in place like that. He could barley concentrate on anything other then the cold dread seeping into his stomach.There was a timid knock as someone pushed the door open.“Cass,” he breathed, exhaustion and pent-up fear flooding out. “He’s not- I couldn’t- We gotta go.”She nodded silently, taking a little less then half of Dick’s weight, slinging his arm over her shoulder with an arm on his waist. They pulled him across the snow-specked ground towards an empty, very cracked, road. Jason could hear the roar of a car ringing through the air.“He’ll be okay.” Cass reassured, tapping his hand with her own.“You did what you could.” Jason drew in a sharp breath. “He’s hypothermic and busted to hell.”She huffed, “You did what you could.”“Yeah. Might not be enough.”He watched the Batmobile (still a stupid name…) pull up and he and Cassandra laid Dick inside alongside Jason who Cass insisted needed to go too.“You’re shaking,” she pointed out with a frustrated glare, “and you’re tired.”Jason grumbled but complied. She gave him a hard, somewhat understanding look as the car peeled away. She mouthed a single word as she began to fade from view. “Rest.”Jason sunk down into his seat miserably.Easier said then done.Fucking Gotham.

[lady-divine-writes]

Coldflash - “Not All Endings Are Happy, but We'll Give it a Shot” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Len is going through some changes - big changes. But instead of facing them in Central City, he's running away - from his life, and from Barry. Barry doesn't mind Len running ... as long as he can go with him.

Written for the @coldflashweeks Valentine’s Day Exchange, and @sparroet prompt 'A merfolk au. It can be either or both of them. Something with a happy ending preferred'. I actually wrote both prompts given, but the other story is turning into a monster, and it isn't ready yet. It'll go up when it's done :)

Read on AO3

“You runnin’ again?”

Len, shirtless at the end of this weathered grey and abandoned dock, stops undressing at the sound of Barry’s voice. Len hadn’t heard him approach, too focused on making plans to pay attention to what might be sneaking up behind him. But he also couldn’t care less. Because if it wasn’t Barry - if it was another meta out on the take, or some rival back from the dead looking for revenge - that might solve his problems for him.

But no. It would have to be Barry.

It’s always Barry.

Len shakes his head and rolls his eyes at Barry quoting his least favorite movie of all time – X-Men. That was the movie they saw together the first time Len ever hid out at Barry’s place. Barry thought Len would like it. He figured since Len talked like a comic book villain, he might be into it. But Len hated it. He hated the story, the plot, the reformulation of the characters and the weakening of their origin stories. Basically, the franchise sucks in Len’s opinion, but that’s besides the fact.

Barry chose a quote from that movie to irk Len.

And to prove a point.

Barry knows Len hates that movie because Barry knows Len, inside and out. Not just the big ticket items – the things that any Tom, Dick, and Harry can find on a rap sheet, during a Google search, or splattered on the front page of newspapers across the country, but the tiny, arguably insignificant things as well.

Barry knows that Len’s favorite color was blue long before he ever got his cold gun.

He knows that Len’s favorite cake flavor is German chocolate, even though he eats red velvet now.

He knows that Len’s routine is like a religion to him, that diverting from it tends to set him back a few days.

He knows that Len’s a bit on the obsessive side when it comes to how he keeps his things and where.

He knows how Len takes his coffee – black with a heaping dash of whiskey.

He knows that Len became a pescetarian a few months or so ago (which should have been a huge clue that something was up), even though his diet mostly consists of French fries and beer.

He knows why Len wakes up at night drenched with sweat and panting as if he’d been drowning in his sleep, his head forced under water until his chest is about to explode, then yanked out in the nick of time, long enough to get a single taste of fresh air, just to be plunged again.

Barry knows whom in those nightmares is playing Russian Roulette with Len’s air supply, whose sinister laugh Len hears ringing in his ears before Barry’s voice seeps in and rouses him from his sleep.

Barry knows these things because they’re the things a lover would know.

But the biggest secret Len has been carrying - a secret he’d kept from his sister, his partner, his team on the Waverider - Barry didn’t discover until recently. Which is one of the reasons Len has yet to turn around and face him. Because Len knows that the eyes staring through the back of his neck are filled to their lightening depths with hurt over him keeping it for so long.

Len could use it to get what he wants, to make Barry go away, but he cares too much about him to exploit that.

Barry is right, of course. Len is running. And since he recognizes it’s a dick move, especially after sticking around this long and allowing Barry to make assumptions that he hadn’t reconciled with, he’d hoped he could slip out of Central City without Barry noticing.

No such luck, but at least he gave it a shot.

“Sorry, Red,” Len says, back turned to the man he never wanted to say goodbye to. But that��s why he has to. Barry has become more than a lover. He’s become an anchor, someone Len has begun to rely too heavily upon. That makes Len weak. And Len can’t afford weaknesses. “Time’s up. You know the motto. One and done.”

Barry scoffs. “Yeah, well, one and done was about six years ago, so don’t give me that crap.”

“I know. That’s why I have to go. Gotta stop throwin’ plans out the window until I end up behind bars … permanently.”

“But why would you end up behind bars?” Barry moves forward, stepping carefully along the worn wood of a dock so old it shouldn’t be able to support their combined weight. “You gave up robbing ATMs.” He glances at Len’s cold gun, sitting at Len’s feet, wrapped tightly in some sort of plastic cocoon and ready to go … like its owner. “Didn’t you?”

“Yes, Red. I gave it up,” Len groans, sliding his pants down his legs, taking his underwear with it, mildly concerned about what Barry thinks when he looks at him now. You can’t tell what he is when his skin is dry, can’t see the scales that erupt up his legs like gooseflesh if he even so much as thinks of water, nor the excruciatingly painful fusing together of his bones when they become a single fin. Isn’t that how the fairytale goes? The mermaid gets to have legs as long as she stays on dry land, but the second she touches water, she turns into a fish.

As it turns out, those fairytales may have been documentaries.

Only then does he realize he’s thinking of the movie Splash and groans again.

He’s getting too old for this crap.

“So, why are you leaving?” Barry asks, using his voice to conceal two more creaky steps.

“To save you the trouble.”

Barry takes another step, but Len does, too, dropping over the side of the dock and into the water. Barry rushes to the edge, determined to have his say before his boyfriend swims off and leaves him. He scans the calm, dark water, counting the seconds until his boyfriend emerges. There’s no guarantee that he’s going to. Even with his cold gun and his duffel waiting for him at the end of the dock, there’s a fifty-fifty chance that Len said, “Eff this,” and took off without them. That thought makes Barry’s heart hurt. He knows for a fact that STAR Labs can whip up something that will help Barry track Len under water, but the fact remains …

… if Len left Barry behind, he doesn’t want him to follow.

Caught between racing back to the lab and jumping in after him, the subtle sound of splashing grabs Barry’s attention and he sees Len’s head bob to the surface a few feet away, the bulk of his body shrouded by the water. Barry smiles, relieved that he has a chance to change Len’s mind. His voice trembles with it, but he can blame that on the chill air.

“J-jeez! If you’d told me this was a pity party, I’d have brought a cake. Maybe some streamers.”

“Nice one.” Len wipes a hand over his shaved head and down his face – a hand covered in silvery-blue scales. They catch what sunlight diffuses through the clouds and wink at Barry, and Barry can’t help thinking how beautiful they look, how delicate, how ornate – such a stark contrast to his stern, rough-around-the-edges Leonard Snart.

“You know, there isn’t a place in the world better equipped to deal with metas than STAR Labs.”

“Thanks but no thanks. I’m not interested in becoming a part of your little aquarium.”

Barry chuckles. “Interesting choice of words.”

“I’d rather deal with this on my own.”

“And what exactly qualifies you to do that?”

Len sighs, this witty banter that has become the heart of their relationship, suddenly exhausting to him. This confrontation wasn’t part of his plan. But then, when it comes to Barry, most of Len’s plans fizzle into obscurity anyway. “I don’t think your friends down at STAR Labs would be too happy about accepting me into the fold, do you?”

“Well, you have been an ass to most of them …” Barry stops and looks thoughtfully up at the sky “… all of them, but I think, considering your turn around, they might be willing to overlook it.”

“Bullshit.”

“Au contraire. See for yourself.” Barry reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a crimson tube, plain except for the familiar yellow lightning bolt that’s stamped on every piece of Flash tech. Len, against his own better judgement, swims closer, pulled by his curiosity … and his reluctance to leave. Barry pinches an edge of the cylinder between his thumb and index finger and gives it a hard shake. It pops open, immediately quadrupling, continuing to expand in size.

“What … is that?” Len asks, brows cinched together as the object transforms.

“This is a prosthetic tail,” Barry says proudly, holding it up higher so Len can get the full effect. “Otherwise known as a Flash Fin.”

“A … Flash Fin?” Len props himself up on the lip of the dock to examine the material, which looks like a cross between the same fabric Barry’s suit is made of and actual fish skin. And while he does, Barry examines Len. Scales, like the ones on his hands, dot his flesh in odd places like freckles, but they also travel in distinct paths up his arms to his elbows, down his spine from the nape of his neck to the curve of his tailbone, and cap his shoulders. They bring a new and exciting definition to Len’s body, putting emphasis on bones and joints instead of muscle, protecting him like armor.

Streamlining him for speed.

There’s something about that in particular that makes Barry’s skin sizzle straight to his blood.

“A-ha,” Barry says. “Cisco made it.”

“Named it, too, I bet.”

Barry shrugs. “It was kind of a group effort.”

“It’s grotesque,” Len declares, pushing off the dock and dropping back into the water.

“Harsh.”

“And what, pray tell, is it for?”

“I think you know what.”

Len locks eyes with Barry. Yeah, he knew, but he wanted to give Barry the opportunity to back out of it. “The answer’s no, Red.”

“I’m not asking.”

“You can’t come with me. We’ve talked about this before.”

“Not enough, if you ask me.”

“I told you everything I know! We went to this freaky version of Earth that was all water, I fell in, and got bit by a … a something. After that, this happened.” Len lifts his arms out of the water for emphasis. “I didn’t find out until we were home. And the time signature of that Earth? Lost for some reason. Possibly even destroyed. No way back. What else is there to talk about?”

Barry hears the bitterness in Len’s voice and he understands. Without access to that other Earth, there’s almost no chance of them finding out what happened to Len, or how to reverse it. Not unless he gives himself over to STAR Labs for testing. But coming up with a cure? That could take months, possibly even years, if ever. If the ‘fish fry process’ (as Cisco calls it) has mutated Len’s DNA for good, there may be no going back for him. And then all that time spent in the lab would have been for nothing.

But there’s another wrinkle to this whole situation. The crew of the Waverider didn’t encounter the inhabitants of ‘water Earth’ aside from Len’s attacker, and Len never saw the creature that bit him. The only evidence they had was the bite mark - jagged and made from pointed teeth, like a shark’s. There’s a chance that the inhabitants of water Earth aren’t like the half-human/half-fish incarnations of their Earth’s folklore, but completely scaled aquatic monsters, void of a discernible language, society ...

… or sentience.

They won’t know for sure until Len becomes one.

“When you met me, I was already the Flash,” Barry says. “I was known – my strengths, my weaknesses, how I became that way. And yet, we’re still learning about my abilities, my limitations. We know nothing about what’s happening to you. I don’t even know how you feel about it.”

“You belong here,” Len says, swiftly avoiding that subject. “Central City needs their superhero.”

Barry frowns at Len’s dodge. “Maybe. But I deserve a little vacation time. I think the team has things pretty well handled here. And if anything big comes up, I can be back …”

Len smirks. “… in a flash?”

“I was going to say a couple of minutes, but, whatevs. Where are you headed anyway?” Barry asks with another glance at Len’s gun, the weapon an even more sinister presence the more Barry considers its possible purpose.

“You’re always on my case about doing good deeds here on this Earth, so I thought I’d pull an Arthur Curry – become an environmental activist. Take the old cold gun up to Antarctica and fill in that Manhattan-sized hole in the glacier.”

Barry raises an eyebrow, not entirely sure Len’s not kidding. “That does sound noble. It also sounds like a big job. Maybe a little too big for one man. You might need some backup.”

“Backup?”

“Leopard seals, man. I hear they’re … vicious.”

Len blows out a sarcastic laugh. That’s his Barry, beating dead horses and never knowing when to take a hint. “Why are you doing this, Red? Why do you always have to make things harder than they need to be?”

“I want to help you through this.” Barry kneels on the dock, trying to get as close as he can to Len without pushing him away. He curls his fingers into the wood, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him, to grab him back before the swells pull him out of reach. “I want to help you the way my friends helped me. I want to help you find a solution to whatever’s going on with you. I don’t … I don’t want you to be alone.”

“Don’t want me to be alone, huh?” Len rolls his head on his neck in annoyance, his smug grin becoming a grimace. “I don’t need your pity!”

“I’m not pitying you!” Barry snaps, knowing he’s lying a little, knowing he’s bad at it.

Len meets Barry’s gaze, stares him down. “Then try again.”

Barry hears the wood beneath his hands complain, the tips of his fingers sinking in like it’s made of sand. “Okay, how about this: at heart, I’m a selfish, terrible excuse for a superhero, who’s tired of being at everyone’s beck and call, but who can’t seem to save the people in my life that I care about! The people who really matter to me! And if this … this … whatever it is …” Barry gestures in Len’s direction “… is going to take you away from me, and you’re too pig-headed and stupid to get help, then I’d rather spend as much time with you as I can, because, to be honest, I don’t know what my life is going to look like without you in it, so I don’t want to find out what that’s going to look like today!”

That final word echoes off into the distance, leaving a tense silence behind. Len doesn’t say anything, floating in quiet observation of Barry Allen, leaning so far over the edge of the dock, one stiff wind would push him in. Threads of electricity circle his fingertips, bouncing arcs off the surface of the water. But Len’s not afraid of being electrocuted.

He’s afraid he’s about to make the worst decision of his life.

“If I told you to go home, would you go?” he asks.

“No,” Barry answers quickly.

“What if I told you I was hoping you’d keep an eye on Lisa for me while I’m gone?”

“Cisco’s got that one handled. She’ll be fine.”

“I’ll bet,” Len mutters, dipping under the water – a new habit he’s developed when he needs a second to think. “What if I told you I didn’t want you?” Len swallows hard. “If I told you I didn’t love you? Would you leave?”

“No,” Barry says, the reality of those words burning his eyes. He doesn’t think Len is talking about now, but about some point in the future, when he might turn into something undefinable, something so far from human, it isn’t even Len anymore.

Something that doesn’t recognize Barry as the man he loves.

But that’s a chance Barry is willing to take, as long as they take it together.

Len nods. Then he grins. “So, you’re a selfish asshole, huh?”

“I never used those words exactly,” Barry says, prying his fingers out of the now splintered wood, “but that’s the gist of it. Yeah.”

“I guess I can live with that. Toss me my stuff, will you?”

“How about I toss you the duffel, and I take the gun?” Barry shoves Len’s abandoned clothes into the neoprene duffel, then adds his own shoes, socks, and jeans after he undresses. Len watches in amusement, slightly annoyed that Barry didn’t have the decency to go commando if he was going to crash this escapade.

At least he’s wearing a Speedo.

“Not a chance.” Len leaves the bag to Barry and snags the gun off the dock before his boyfriend can confiscate it. “What do you say, Red. Do you think you can keep up with me?”

“I’m offended you’d even ask that question.”

“Oh, and another thing.”

“What’s that?”

“That creepy tail? It stays here.”

Barry looks at the fake fin he was preparing to slip on over his legs, disappointed that he doesn’t get to take it for a spin, especially after all the tricks Cisco said he’d included. But in terms of compromises, this is a small one, so he can’t turn it down.

“Alright,” he concedes, rolling the fin back up, sliding it into the bag when Len isn’t paying attention. He jumps into the water, shocked by how cold it is when it touches his skin, marveling over how at ease Len seems hanging out in this frozen bath from go. The Speed Force inside him, at odds with the icy cold encompassing his body, kicks in like a generator to keep him warm. Moments later, the cold is not an obstacle. “Len?”

“Yeah, Barry?” Len asks, busy securing his gun to his torso with thick straps.

“Can you talk to fish?

“Barry …”

“Ooo, what about whales? Can you talk to whales?”

“Barry …”

“Because it would be awesome if you could talk to whales.”

Len grabs Barry by the shoulder. He drags his body close and kisses him hard, kisses him to feel his lips on his again, the warmth of his mouth – a warmth he no longer has, that’s foreign to him.

But mostly to shut him up.

“Don’t make me regret this, Red. Don’t you dare.”

[xxelijahxxscottxx]

i wanna see you be brave|darco

Who: @sshardassanderson && @southsidefranco

Where: Franco’s hospital room

When: 19th January in the morning.

Info: Dare makes good in his promise to visit Franco.... Lots of fluff, a confession and a dream come true.

Word Count: 3,378

Trigger warnings: None (I think).... Fucko crying.... Lots of angst!

@sshardassanderson in ITALIC & @southsidefranco in BOLD

After going over to Blaine’s for the night to recharge from the nonsense of yesterday, Dare got up early to make sure he could make good on his promise. He showered and dressed in the minimal clothing he had left over at Blaine’s and started over to the hospital where he’d last left his brothers. Every floor had at least one Serpent skulking around, keeping an eye on things in case any of the fuckheads from yesterday decided to try some shit again. It wasn’t likely given that they’d really have to make a scene to get to Franco, but it was worth sending a few snakes in. Once in Franco’s room, Dare talked Cujo out for a few so they could talk and the taller Serpent could clean himself up a bit. He lightly tapped Franco’s hand, not really eager to wake him, but knowing they should talk. “Hey man. It’s Dare.”

Franco wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep but he knew it was in the early hours of the morning. He had woken throughout the night many times, nightmares consuming him every time he had tried to close his eyes. When he felt someone tap his hand, he jumped, his body aching with the movement. His eyes shoot open, and through the little gap he had, he could make out a man before he heard that it was Dare. He gulped and pulled his hand backwards, Dare should be able to touch him, the man had saved him, why was he so scared. He sighed, "True to your word. Hey Dare" he breathed.

“Easy easy,” Dare’s first thought was to restrain, but given the litany of injuries he held back and just moved back a little to avoid backlash. He kept away from Franco’s hand. He could sympathize with not wanting to be touched. “Hey you’re okay...” Dare murmured, keeping his hands to the side of the hospital bed instead. “Hey Fracko. Nice to see you’re awake in person. Gotta say, you’re still better looking than me. Despite the circumstances.” It was a weak attempt at lightning the mood, but he hoped it might gain some traction. “How are you feeling? Alejandro come see you?”

Franco took a few deep breathes and watched Dares hands. He felt terrible making him keep away, especially as Cujo had held his hand all night. He tried to laugh at the joke but it sounded choked, "Fracko" he whispered, "That's a different name. I've always been better looking then you". He felt himself tense and shiver as his body woke up and the pain seemed to wake with it, "I feel like shit. He came last night but I freaked out. He had a syringe. Pain relief or something but I couldn't let him near me". His hand was twitching on the bed, why had refused the help?

Dare frowned lightly, leaning on the guardrail of the bed. He wanted to comfort, that was part of his compulsive need to fix everything. But he needed to leave that part to Cujo. “I know you’re worried about the syringes my man, and if it was a rando I could get it. But Alejandro is trustworthy. If I remember, in order to make it go in faster, it goes in the IV.” He gestured to the needle in Franco’s hand. “And morphine is hella nice. Think maybe you can give it another try? I don’t want you to be in so much pain even opening your eyes hurts.”

Franco shook his head, "Its not. I don't know him. He might be a doctor but, Dare I can't" he forced out, fighing back tears, he didn't need everyone to see him cry. He gulped, "They said that it was nice, that I would just sleep but it didn't. I can't. I don't want to sleep. I'm scared of what happens if I close my eyes". He felt weak, felt pathetic... Dare was his leader,  "I gotta be brave and strong, like a real serpent would".

“Hey hey hey,” Dare leaned back over a little more. “Shh. Listen to me. Even brave and strong Serpents have their moments of weakness. And you have gone through a lot of shit. This isn’t just ‘Franco got a boo boo’. These aren’t baby injuries. You endured six days of hell and lived to tell the tale. I don’t know that all of us could’ve done the same. So what about that makes you think that you’re not strong? That you’re not brave?” Dare sat back down, looking into his companion’s face sternly. “I could kill every last one of them for what they did to you. But I can promise you that until you do feel safe again, you’re not gonna be alone.”

Franco gulped as he listened to what Dare said, "I don't think I could have gone much longer" he nodded, "Bravery comes from those who fight. Not those who try and run and fail all the same". He regretted every day not trying to fight again but he had been tipsy, "I was just tipsy and didn't think it was something I could win". He watched Dare sit back and shook his head, "No revenge. It'll make it worse". He looked up at the door, at Cujo stood outside, "I don't think he'd leave me if you forced him".

“It probably wasn’t. It sounds like these guys were paid professionals. I mean...who jumps someone wearing a fucking suit?” Dare shrugged slightly. “Bravery comes from those who are smart enough to know when to fight or flee. You were outnumbered. And these guys were professionals. You could’ve been killed right then and there. Honestly if you weren’t so hurt right now I’d bop you on the head for being so dense. If instead of it being you it was Julian, would you be telling him he was cowardly and didn’t try?”

Franco nodded, "I think they worked for whoever owned that casino" he spoke. He didn't really know who owned it but he knew why he was kidnapped. Franco sighed and nodded, "I think being killed in the forest would have been kinder then what they did" he admitted. He listened to him talk about Julian, "That's not fair Dare" he breathed, "Julian's different".

“No, it’s the same exact thing. J is a bit younger but he’s no different than all the things you’re calling out. He’s a Serpent. Not every one of us is going to be a Cujo. Sure...he probably would’ve went down swinging.” Dare paused briefly, gathering his thoughts. “In your position I don’t know that I would’ve fought back either. I probably would’ve tried to run instead. Outnumbered by guys in god damn suits. They could’ve had guns.” He reaches over, cautiously and gingerly brushing his hair back. “You did what you could with the time you had.”

"Julian is smaller and no offense, doesn't exactly have as much muscle as me. He would have had to run". Franco sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, when would he stop blaming himself. "I'm not even sure what they had. I know they had some rag that made me feel sleepy". He watched as Dare reached up and moved his hair. His whole body tensed but he didn't push away. He held his breath and fought through it, "Why is it so hard for you to touch me? Cujo does all the time".

“Because I’m not Cujo.” Dare explained with a shrug, bringing his hands back away. “I’m not somebody you’ve been intimate with or shared anything deeply personal with. It’s not the same kind of connection that you have with me. I’m your friend, your family, but I’m not that kind of family.” Dare grabbed a cup of ice water that was sitting next to the bed with a straw sticking out of it and brought it over, offering it, not forcing. “You gotta stop beating yourself up for this. Nobody got hurt. Whether or not we could have is irrelevant because no one did. And most importantly, we got you home. Water?”

Those 4 words hit Franco like a sack of bricks. They were true and accurate. Dare wasn't Cujo. No one was. No one could compare to how he felt about that man. He finally broke and let the tears roll down his cheek, "God, what am I putting him through? How must he be feeling?" he spoke softly. He looked at the straw and nodded, leaning forward slightly to sip the straw, "Water is good" he nodded.

Dare offered an understanding, cautious smile, making sure that Franco had his fill of water before he set the cup back aside. “He’s right outside the door. And what he’s feeling is probably relief. You’re putting him through relief that he still managed to hold your hand and see you looking at him again. And soon he’ll hear you laugh and smile and you guys can do a bunch of fucking around.” He straightened up a little, cracking his back before standing up. “How about I get him back in?”

Franco shook his head quickly, "No" he whispered. He knew he had to tell Cujo how he felt and he wasn't ready, "I'm not ready Dare" he hurried. He looked at the cup and tried to lift his arm to reach it himself but the side effects of all the drugs were how weak his limbs felt, "More water please".

“Alright, I can stay longer.” Dare sat back down and gathered the cup, bringing it back over to Franco’s lips with the straw. “Seriously don’t worry about it, okay? I know it’s going to take you some time to get through this and that’s okay too. But I want you to stop focusing on where you think you failed.” He waited until Franco had his fill before putting the cup aside again. “I’m your leader, right? You’re not going anywhere. Whether or not you think you were cowardly, it’s my call on who gets to be a Serpent. You’re not going anywhere, my brother. You got me?”

Franco took the water gratefully and he nodded at Dare's words, "Yeah, it's gunna take a while. My injuries could take up to eight weeks too heal. I'm hoping to be out of here by the end of the week" he stated. He hated hospitals, "Who owned the casino?" he asked. The question was burning at him, he wanted answers, "Thanks Dare. I like being a serpent. It's the only family I have".

“That’s why you’re not gonna be going on any missions either. You’re going to stay with someone at all times. A Serpent. And you’re going to make sure you relax and take care of yourself.” Dare frowned a bit. “The Clarington family. And before you start getting your own revenge boner, Hunter is the one who figured out where you where and helped us save your life. Clarington Senior is the one responsible.”

Franco nodded, "I'm not ready for missons" he agreed. He sighed, "When I come home, I'm going to stay with Cujo. He said I could and I don't know. I think I'm in love with him Dare". The words escaped before he could stop them and he cursed himself for it. He raised an eyebrow though, "Claringtons? Hunter helped? Are they in jail?"

Dare hardly hesitated at the confession, flashing a light smirk. “I think you’re the last person to figure that out. Maybe second to last because I think Gigantor out there doesn’t realize it either. Maybe that’s something you two need to explore together, yeah?” He gestured to the applesauce left aside too. “You wanna try to eat a little? As far as the Clarington’s...nothing right now. You know how shitty this police force is. They didn’t even officially arrest Adrien Smythe after we found that recording.”

Franco's jaw dropped slightly, "You knew?" he asked hesitantly. How had everyone known before him, "Cujo doesn't know, of course he doesn't know. He'd probably never look at me again. Run a mile or something". Franco looked at the apple sauce and sighed, "I want to eat but I can wait till Cujo comes back, if you want?". The idea of needing help with the smallest things until the drugs wore off embarrassed him. He nodded, "I should have known the answer to that question. He'll get away with it won't he?"

“Of course I knew. The way you two blockheads are around each other? I’d have to be blind.” Dare chuckled. “And I doubt he’d run a mile. It’s not like you guys don’t already fuck. But I’ll let you sort that one out yourself. So, your secret’s safe with me.” He considered for a moment, silent in his thoughts. “After we found you the other day I...looked up your sister. Isabella, right? She’s cute.” He shrugged. “I told her you were hurt. She’d...liked to hear from you. Gave me her new cell phone number.”

Franco gave the tiniest laugh, "Cujo isn't a relationship kind of guy but I will tell him. No matter how much it hurts". He gulped and nodded, "Thank you. Our secret until I've said all that needs saying". Franco's eyes widened and he felt like he couldn't breathe, "Isabella" he breathed, "You... you got her to contact you? My Izzy" he asked, confusion and emotions lacing every word, "You have her number? Dare" and he started to cry again, "Keep it. Until I'm home. Please".

“Hey hey hey what did I say about getting worked up?” Dare demanded, though his tone didn’t raise, not wanting to escalate the situation. “Breathe. You’re gonna make it hard to breathe if you cry with those fucked up ribs.” He tried to soothe the situation as best as possible before Cujo fucking kicked down the door and threw him out. “Yeah. I got in touch. She...she’s worried about you. Wants to talk to you when you’re feeling up to it. After she heard you were in the hospital it opened her up a bit. Relax.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down when you contacted my sister who I tried to contact for years Darius” Franco said, though it was getting harder to breathe. “I don’t care about my ribs, you have. A number for my freaking sister. I’ve been dying to speak to her for 3 fucking years”. He tried to control his breathing, his hand searching for something to hold as he did, “Fuck Darius”

“I’m telling you to calm down because if you still wanna talk, you can’t have your lungs collapsing. And Cujo will actually throw me out of here if that happens. So breathe. C’mon, dude.” He sat up and gripped Franco’s struggling hand. “Try and take a slow, deep breath for me, or I’m gonna have to leave.”

Franco gripped Dares hand as hard as he could. It wasn’t hard at all but it made him feel something. He took deep breathes in and out, the pain in his ribs making him squeeze his eyes shut. He hated this. He hated being sick and he hated being injured. His lungs were already fucked from the broken ribs and Dare was right, he didn’t need to make it worse, “Dare, I can’t thank you enough for it” he started, “But I can’t have that number until I’m better. It will kill me hearing her voice like this”.

“You can thank me by getting better.” Dare reassured, holding the hand as tightly as he dared so he wouldn’t send Franco spiraling negatively downwards. “Slow down. Good.” He eyeballed the stupid monitors to make sure they didn’t go ballistic as Franco’s oxygen levels evened out. “I’ll hold onto it until you’re home, no worries there. She didn’t set a time stamp for how long you had. Just that she wants to talk to you too. We didn’t really chat. But...yeah. So now you have to get better.”

Franco nodded at Dare, feeling safe with his hand being held, “I’m gunna get better” he whispered, “I’m gunna get through this”. He paused as his breathing finally came back under his control. He opened his eyes and looked back at Dares face, “I want to come home” he spoke, knowing home was the place he’d be able to try and live again, “Can you get me home?”

“In a few days, I promise my man. But we gotta get you breathing better before we move you around. You were...very, very close to dying. That’s why we couldn’t just have Max or Alejandro looking you over. And you gotta try and accept some pain meds, or this healing process is gonna be a bitch. We might be able to get you pills instead of the injections, but it’s not like you can swallow much stuff. So...try and reconsider, okay? Then when you get home, I’ll get you the best weed we got.”

Franco nodded, “When I come home, can Max look after me medically? Ale made me take some tablets last night, some antibiotic thing but he scared me half to death”. He felt bad, Ale was only trying to help but he was terrified of the man after seeing the syringe. The words about dying rang in his head, maybe he’d used his extra life and he got really lucky, “How bad was it when you found me?” He asked. He hadn’t even seen himself in a mirror yet, he didn’t know how bad it all looked. He nodded and sighed, “Dare, I don’t know what drugs they gave me... but I think it was stronger then weed”.

“I’m sure I can work something out with her. I’ll hit her up on my way out and see if she can help with your care. It’s okay. Seriously.” He sighed, unable to comfort further than just holding Franco’s hand in a grip that just said I’ve got you. “It was bad. Enough that we only thought about bringing you here. That’s...all we can really say about it my man. Antibiotics are probably gonna be necessary with how many open wounds you had. Can’t have you keeling over from just an infection after you survived all this. And I say weed just to help you relax. But no ones gonna make you take anything.” He paused. “Besides the antibiotics.”

Franco tried to smile, “Max is nice. I’m not a big fan of Ale. But if you say it’s safe for me to take these things then I’ll take them”. He trusted Dare with his life, especially now. He listened to what a Dare said, “I’m gunna get Cujo to show me my reflection at some point. If it’s as bad as it feels, then I must look like shit”. He looked up at the door and smiled sadly, “He’s going to be going crazy out there”.

“Hey even at your worst? Better looking than me. I’m kinda pissed. How can this even be?” He glanced at the door too and patted Franco’s hand affectionately. “Let me get Cujo back in here, yeah? Maybe you can get some more sleep then too.”

Franco gave a half smile and nodded, “Well it’s not hard to be better looking then you” he tried to joke, but his voice still sounded numb. He nodded once again, “It’s easier to sleep when Cujo is here. I feel safe”.

“Then we’re gonna swap places. I’m gonna bounce and you,” He leaned over the guard rail to very lightly bop Franco’s nose. “Are going to relax and get better so we can get you discharged and home again. So if I hear that you’re still shitting on yourself or fighting getting better, I’ll be back to lecture you until your ears fall off. Got it?” He moved away from the bed and murmured to Cujo it was time to swap. He held the door open and gave Franco a half-wave. “You know how to reach me if you need me.”

Franco gave a little sigh of breath as Dare bopped him in the nose and he nodded, “I owe you Dare” he breathed, as Cujo came into the room. He wiggled his fingers to say goodbye and sighed, “He’s a good man” he said into the room.