#i imagine that taking this slow instead of just blowing the seals right away is important in some way so...oops?

[duckapus]

Not sure how to start this so I'll just say that Mr. Crocker is down in his not-so-secret Crocker Cave, laughing evilly while working on his latest fairy hunting invention. Currently, it's just a grapefruit-sized sci-fi-looking metal and glass orb full of glowing blue energy.

"With the addition of Meme Energy to my Artificial Magic formula and a bit of respawn code I bummed off of Gohma, the Artificial Magic Core is complete! And with it, I will power the ultimate advancement in fairy hunting technology..."

He turns on the Cave's big computer monitor, revealing schematics for a small, winged android, then spasms while shouting, "THE FAIRY GODDROID!!!"

He begins to pace, petting the core in his hand as though it were a small, glowing metal cat, "Yes, no longer will I be caught on the back foot, forced to compensate for the reality warping power Turner and every other Godchild has at their fingertips. Soon I'll be able to fight Fire with Fire."

Another spasm, "FIRE!!! I mean, FAIRIES!!!"

He wipes his brow, which has gradually become more and more slick with sweat, "Ugh, speaking of fire, I really need to fix the air conditioning down here at some point. California heatwaves and underground laboratories do not mix," under his breath, he adds, "almost makes me wish I was somewhere that was cold year-round instead."

As you might expect, idly wishing when you're holding a device designed to replicate the powers of wish-granting magical creatures isn't a good idea, which Crocker realizes when the AMC's glow suddenly gets brighter...

"Oh shi-" he's rapidly engulfed in a cloud of sparkling blue smoke with the word "BEEP" written on the front in blocky letters, accompanied by the sound of an airhorn, and when it dissipates, the Crocker Cave is empty.

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

Somewhere in Desiderio, an airhorn calls out across the frigid wilderness, and a human with unsightly features and clothing far too light for the climate is dropped from a mysterious blue cloud in such a way that he faceplants into the snow, screaming all through his brief fall. He quickly gets back up, violently shivering as he clutches his invention close to himself for the small amount of warmth it brings.

"I w-wish I had s-s-some dec-cent w-w-winter c-clothes right n-n-n-now," with another Beep, his collared shirt, black slacks and matching loafers are replaced by a dull blue parka with the hood up, dark grey snow pants, and heavy-duty black boots and gloves. As he's warmed back up, he sighs in both relief and annoyance, "well, at least I know it works now. Where am I, anyway?"

While the sensible thing to do would be to go back home, Denzel Crocker is far from a sensible man, so he stows the AMC in one of his pockets and starts trudging his way in a random direction, eager to see what he might find.

As he goes, he discovers that he's near the shoreline of...wherever he's ended up, and he follows the beach until he comes across a camp of some sort on a long outcrop. He continues onward, soon discovering that the camp is inhabited by humanoid cats in what appear to be medieval knight uniforms designed to withstand the frigid climate. They appear to be guarding something, and the scientist and troublemaker in him just has to see what it is, especially since they don't seem to have noticed his approach yet.

"Hmm...I wish I was invisible."

Once the wish is granted, he slowly picks his way through the camp, doing his best to stay as quiet as possible so the soldiers' no doubt excellent feline hearing won't pick up on his presence (this close to the ocean there's more ice and rock than there is snow, so he's thankfully not leaving much of a trail).

Eventually, he reaches the object that's caught so much attention; a large, round stone structure covered in strange runes embedded into the highest point of the outcrop. From what he can see, it's ancient, but appears to have been tampered with recently, as if someone is trying to slowly cut it away from the cliff. Either the doing of the soldiers themselves or whoever they're guarding this place from.

As he tries to approach for a closer look, he slips on some loose pebbles, and if that didn't alert the guards the sharp "OOF" when he collides with the ancient stone definitely does. He hears the nearest ones shouting, though he's too disoriented to make out exactly what, and he happens to look down and see that his collision somehow managed to make a small crack in the stone, likely due to the AMC's sturdy metal frame based on the position. A green whisp of something shoots out of the crack, which knocks him back on his bony rear, cancels out his invisibility wish, and slips into his pocket.

Now back to his senses, Crocker takes stock of his current situation and finally listens to his common sense, "Well, I think I've just about overstayed my welcome," he pulls out the AMC, briefly noting that it's changed from blue to green but deciding to worry about that later, "I wish I was anywhere but here!"

And with another cloud (green instead of blue now, of course) and airhorn, he's gone, just as the Desidarian soldiers are closing in with weapons and instruments drawn.

[peachy-panic]

Truth & Lies

(This picks up directly following this piece)

Tag list: @whumpervescence @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing

CONTENT WARNINGS: General BBU warnings, human trafficking, referenced/implied non-con, mentioned past minors of minors, blood, restraints, medical setting. 

Panic washes over him the moment the door closes behind them, putting him alone in the exam room. In the silence, he can hear only the sound of his labored breathing, obstructed by the plastic intrusion that has been secured between his teeth, straps cutting into his temples. His hands are bolted to the front edge of the table on either side of his thighs. The position pulls his posture forward just enough to be uncomfortable, his shoulders curling forward to accommodate the short buckle on the cuffs. He tries, to little avail, to calm the rising panic at the feeling of restraint. 

And all he can think is that he has done this to himself. 

He messed up. He had messed up so, so badly and the reality hadn’t fully settled over him until the door clicked shut, and the blur of the past several minutes came crashing into him with a sudden, sickening clarity. And now there is nothing he can do to take back his actions, his words, and he knows that no apology will be enough to smooth it over regardless. Still, he feels one bubbling in the back of his throat uselessly, trapped behind the gag and the slow, constant trickle of blood.

Suddenly, the sensation steals all his focus, until all he can feel is the warm liquid in his nose and throat, and the suffocating realization that he is helpless to stop himself from choking to death alone in this room, chained to a fucking table. 

His arms tug instinctively against the cuffs, but the steely hold on his wrists only serves to bolster his panic. Oh, god. What has he done? All at once, he is sorry. Jaime is so, so sorry and he wishes he could take it back but ‘sorry doesn’t do shit for me, baby,’ he can hear Mr. Torley’s rumbling voice clear as day in his ear. 

He jerks forward away from the phantom presence, a whimper caught in his throat that has nowhere to go. These flashes of imagination feel so real sometimes and Jaime can’t always tell them apart from what’s in front of him, just like when the Handler had pulled his sweatshirt over his head at intake, and when the gray fabric cleared his eyes it had been Mr. Torley’s face staring back at him, grinning in the glow of the bedside lamp that had been harsh, white Facility fluorescents only seconds before. 

He hadn’t meant to lash out. Jaime can’t recall ever stepping out of line like that, not since… not since his first week in the training facility. He has enough sense to know that fighting back won’t get him anywhere good. But something had snapped in his mind when they began undressing him of his street clothes, and it was as if he was no longer at the helm of his own body. His arm had lurched forward on instinct, striking out at the figment in front of him because this wasn’t right, he was supposed to be done with Mr. Torley, he had served his six month contract and it was supposed to be over.

It was supposed to be over. 

He had barely recognized the crunch that gave under his fist in the moment, nor the white blare of pain as the blow was reciprocated with double the strength. There was blood and a struggle and a distant screaming that made his head vibrate like the sharp, resounding clang of metal on concrete.

And then he blinked, and now he was here, and his head hurts and he can’t breathe right with all the blood and he is so, so sorry no matter how much it won’t matter in the end. It never matters.

He hates that he is sorry. He hates that he is back here. He hates that he can still feel Mr. Torley like static on his skin even though he isn’t legally his anymore. He hates the feeling of the bit between his teeth, reminding him of a hazier time in his memory, carved out with white tiled walls and bright lights and constant, unyielding pain. 

Jaime lets his head fall forward, cringing at the sticky dampness of his t-shirt against his chin, and focuses all his energy on trying not to cry. More than anything now, he needs to retain his already limited ability to breathe.

Even so, he can’t stop his breath from catching when he hears the telltale swipe of a clearance key at the door.

*******

Sebastian’s feet stutter beneath him as he pushes through the door. His eyes are drawn immediately to the anchor points along the front of the exam table, which currently serve to immobilize the terrified young man between them. He can see that the skin around the restraints is already pink with irritation. The boy’s head is ducked in what looks to be a quiet surrender, and he can’t see his face but he watches as a drop of blood hits the lap of his pants. Sebastian’s muscles freeze up. It’s only a fleeting moment, but he’s sure his recovery is not nearly as graceful as he hopes it is as he clears his throat and steps into the room. 

He lets the heavy door fall shut behind him, effectively sealing himself into the reality that he is now in charge of this person bolted to a table. It has become a daily occurrence long ago to question every life choice that had brought him to this place, but especially now he can’t help but think he’s made a horrible mistake. And then the light clinking of metal on metal draws his focus to where the boy has twisted his hand inside his restraints just enough to grip the side of the table, knuckles white and trembling, and it occurs to him how selfish he is for thinking that he is the one in the room who has earned the right to fear. 

He should say something. He knows he has to be the one to say something, because the Companions - the patients - aren’t allowed to initiate conversation without direct invitation. He knows this, but the knowledge doesn’t un-stick his tongue from the roof of his mouth or dissolve the lump that’s blocking his airway. For a moment, all he can do is stare. 

“Hi,” he says finally by means of a feeble introduction. He clears his throat, trying for something that doesn’t sound so much like a question. “I’m Dr. Tate. Sebastian. You can… just Sebastian is fine. If you want.”

Incredible, Seb. Off to a confident start. 

He might see the slight incline of the patient’s head in acknowledgement, or he could be imagining it. Either way, he moves on. 

“What is your…” He pauses, clearing his throat. Name? Is that what he wanted to say? He knows as well as anyone that he isn't allowed to use his. If he does and anyone hears him, it will only land him in deeper trouble. Which is maybe the last thing on Earth Sebastian wants. Instead, he asks, “What can I call you?”

For the first time since he entered the room, Sebastian sees unmistakable movement in the muscles of the boy’s neck. There seems to be a moment of hesitation, and then he lifts his head to level with Sebastian’s gaze, and he nearly takes a step back.

By some miracle, Sebastian has made it this far into the program without witnessing - or god forbid implementing - the use of heavy restraints on a patient. Today, it seems, his luck has run out. The boy stares up at him with dark, empty eyes over a round bit of black plastic secured over his mouth with the WRU logo emblazoned in silver. A fucking gag.

A slow-dripping acidity makes its way into Sebastian’s stomach. The picture in front of him is so starkly, uniquely horrifying that it stops him in his tracks. It’s exactly the kind of raw imagery that WRU conveniently left out of their pamphlets and commercials and brightly-colored career packets. This, he thinks to himself, is the truth behind every lie they sell. 

“Oh,” he says, stunned, the word slipping out of him in a breathy gasp. He forces himself to take a step toward his patient, choosing to ignore the quickly concealed flinch. “I don’t… I don’t think we really need that, right?” He says a pitch too high. The patient’s eyes track him warily as Sebastian moves closer, an outstretched hand hovering in his direction. “Uh. Can I?”

Instead of the permissive nod he expects, the young man’s eyes flit over to something to the left of Sebastian’s shoulder then back again, holding his gaze. Sebastian turns and finds a tin box affixed to the wall just behind the door. He blinks, and when he looks at the patient again with confusion written all over him, the boy hesitates — which he seems to do before each new move — and then angles his head just enough so that Sebastian catches a flash of silver at the back of his neck.

A small padlock. Holding the straps of his gag in place. 

The room wavers around him. 

“Key,” he chokes out dumbly in a whisper. “Right, I— right.”

He turns on his heel and crosses stiffly to the box on the wall. His hands are shaky when he opens the hinge, fingers brushing over the small selection of keys dangling inside. For a horrified moment, he catches himself wondering what other inhumane devices these could possibly go to. He doesn’t allow himself to linger on the thought. It won’t be helpful here.

The smallest key catches his eye, looking to be the most likely to fit the lock. 

“Is it alright if I—?” He turns back with the intention of seeking his consent, but he finds that the boy has already lowered his head to allow him easier access to the lock. “Okay,” he says quietly, mostly to himself. 

Sebastian works as quickly as his nervous fingers will allow and feels a tangible weight lift from his chest as the lock releases. 

“There,” he says, stepping back immediately once the intrusion has been removed. He tosses it into the sink basin in the corner, not wanting to look at it for a moment longer, as he is sure his patient would agree. “Better?”

The patient waits a moment before raising his head again. “Th...thank you.” He murmurs without meeting his eyes. His voice is low and brittle and nearly knocks something loose inside Sebastian’s chest. 

A slow trickle of blood swells out from his bottom lip, the bit from the gag almost definitely having irritated whatever injury had already been put there. For half a second, Sebastian wonders why he doesn’t reach up and wipe it away, and then he realizes—

“Shit! Your hands.” He’s back at the box before he can spare another thought, sifting through the row of seemingly identical keys. He doesn’t really allow himself time to consider the possible reasons why he shouldn’t be removing the restraints, including but not limited to breaking protocol on his first day off probation and having no actual idea if this person was a physical threat to him or not. All he knows for sure is the visceral feeling he gets in his gut every time he sees him bleeding and bound to a fucking table when he should be here to receive care.

“Sir?”

He whips around to find the boy watching him with naked apprehension, as if he isn’t sure he has clearance to have spoken. 

“Really, Sebastian is okay,” he reiterates. “Or Dr. Tate, if you want to be formal.” Of course he’s going to be formal. His entire existence is a series of formalities, meeting new strangers and having to pay them undue respect, and none of it has anything to do with what he wants.

Sebastian watches something flicker in his eyes, a momentary break in the solid wall before it closes up again. “Yes, Dr. Tate,” he says with an automatic obedience that flips Sebastian’s stomach. His lips part just slightly as if he is going to say something else, but instead he glances pointedly down toward one of his wrists. The way he holds it allows Sebastian to see the silver hook attaching him to the table with what looks to be a similar mechanism to a heavy-duty carabiner. 

Oh. There is no key for these. Just a simplified method that doesn’t allow the restrained person any access to release the clip. 

He wastes no time crossing back to him. “You’re not going to start swinging on me, are you?” Sebastian says, mostly as a joke to cut the tension, but it’s the wrong thing to say, and he knows it as soon as the boy’s eyes darken and fall away to his lap.

“No, S— Doctor Tate. S-sorry,” the boy stumbles through a rushed assurance, still not meeting his eyes. “I didn’t mean to— I… it wasn’t…” He seems to slow himself with considerable effort, forcing in a deep breath, then out again. “I’m sorry. I will not step out of line again,” he finishes in a quiet, frustrated tone of defeat. 

Sebastian is glad for the distraction of unbuckling his cuffs, which he goes straight to work on, because he’s not sure what to say to any of that. “Sorry,” he murmurs as he frees his left hand from the restraint. “I was only kidding.” 

Another thought pops into his head, and only just stops himself from saying, “Whatever happened, I’m sure those Handlers had it coming.”

Once he is freed, Sebastian tosses the cuffs onto the counter, eager to get them out of his hands. The patient wraps his arms around his middle as soon as he’s able to, keeping his shoulders drawn in even now that he has full mobility to sit up. Sebastian forces himself into clinical mode. He may feel out of his element here and his sense of morality may be steadily decaying in this place with each passing day, but he’s a good doctor. He knows he is. And he needs to remember that he is the one with any amount of power in this room, and he isn’t doing either of them any favors by floundering helplessly. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up before we do anything else,” he says decisively, turning with a bit more confidence in his step to wet some paper towels in the sink. 

“Thank you.” His patient accepts them with something like genuine gratitude, bringing the damp towel to his nose. It seems the bulk of the active bleeding has stopped, so they at least have that going for them. 

It takes a conscious effort to stop himself from staring as the boy cleans himself off with soft, calculated movements. Instead, Sebastian tears himself away to claim the stool in front of the monitor beside the bed. One quick scan of his key card gains him access to the patient intake home screen.

“So, um.” Sebastian clears his throat. “Let’s try that again, shall we? What can I call you?”

“110750, Domestic Services,” the answer comes automatically, as if he didn’t need to be in his own head to recite the words from memory. 

Wordlessly, Sebastian types the numbers into the system. A moment later, a digital chart appears in front of him, and he has to bite down on his cheek to keep from cursing. The photo in the top right corner is dated just over nine months ago, but the person in it looks… so fucking young.

He can’t help but toss a glance at the man on the bed he had just unshackled, gingerly wiping his injuries, and then back at the screen. Less than a year separated the two faces, and yet there was a world of difference etched into the space beneath his eyes, the posture of his spine and shoulders, the hollowness of his gaze. In the photo, he looks afraid. Here, in front of him though, he looks… dismantled.

Which is a horrible thing to think about someone, Sebastian scolds himself immediately. Had things gone differently in his own life and Sebastian himself had somehow landed in this boy’s position, he is quite sure he wouldn’t be handling it with an ounce of the composure most of these people seem to have. He doesn’t like to think about that. 

“Here you are,” he says mostly to fill the silence, nodding toward the screen. “Let’s see…” His eyes scan down the monitor until he sees the highlighted red portion at the bottom, which generally lists the reason for admittance. In his, he finds two lines he immediately wishes he could unread.

Domestic Return Intake Physical.

Comprehensive STI Panel.

As if the words themselves are not enough, it’s the small text inserted next to the second line — only the second line — that really delivers the blow. In barely-there letters next to a bold asterisk, it reads: 

RFR.

Sebastian has seen just enough during his probationary period, in the fleeting glances over Dr. Geer’s shoulder, to understand its meaning. 

Redact From Record.

Sebastian’s mouth feels dry around the swallow he attempts. Despite his best efforts, he’s sure his expression is not as impassive as he hopes. The screen is angled away from his patient, but if what they say about some Companions still losing their literacy during training is true, maybe that doesn’t matter. WRU claims that’s no longer a part of the training process since their rebranding, but as Sebastian is well aware, it wouldn’t be the first or most heinous lie they’ve told. Not by a long shot. 

With the words buzzing around like angry hornets in his skull, Sebastian forces himself to turn toward patient 110750. The blood has been mostly wiped from his face, leaving only trace amounts of pink-tinged skin in its wake, and he has pressed the paper towel into a soiled wad in his fist. 

He is watching Sebastian carefully, like he’s preparing himself for something. Or… like he’s preparing himself for anything, because of course he can’t know what to expect, only that he is helpless to prevent whatever comes. The haunting revelation tucked away inside his patient file is kerosene on the wildfire of Sebastian’s imagination, supplying him with a litany of past horrors that must be swimming behind those eyes to fill them with a dread so pure. 

He suddenly remembers the Handler’s words when they had dragged him in, and it makes more sense now. “Freaked the fuck out at strip and started throwing punches.”

Sebastian can imagine why. 

Overturning the Romantic division of WRU had been the largest, most public part of their new regime. It had come on the heels of several small pockets of the company being blown wide open to expose the outlawed buying, selling, and subsequent abuse of minors within the system. At that point, they’d been left with little choice but to make a big move to save face in whatever way they could. 

There had been liberators that moved in some of Sebastian’s (very small) circles in undergrad. He had heard their vocal disdain for the company’s half-hearted attempts. Sebastian had never once stood in defense of the system, but perhaps some small part of him had always hoped for a grain of truth in their promise to turn over a new leaf, if only for the poor people who are stuck inside of it. 

Now, there’s no shielding himself away from the truth that had always existed, and he felt like an idiot for ever believing their intentions could ever be anything but malicious. Divisions and legalities aside, the people here are given numbers instead of names and sworn to a secrecy disguised as confidentiality regarding the people who have unlimited access to them. They have no legal standing. They have no power. 

The word “Domestic” is etched into this boy’s designation line, but Sebastian knows that doesn’t mean shit. 

Now, Sebastian looks into his wide, guarded eyes and thinks about how his first task as a solo practitioner is going to be forcing this person to undergo a full panel of invasive testing. And he feels the first spark of what he’s sure will stoke a flame of the desire to see this place burn.

[writingsbychlo]

smoke and fire (17)

word count; 8202

summary; after a dangerous call, neither of you can handle the waiting around anymore, and everything finally bubbles over.

notes; you’re welcome.

warnings; descriptive injury, reference to death, reference to arson, minor character injury.

“Holy fucking shit, I know they prepared us for this stuff with all those drills and what have you, but I never expected this.”

You smacked at Newt’s arm roughly, covering your face as you stared up at the building, smoke curling up from the top of the building, and scared students were all gathering on the grasses and the tennis courts, filtering out of the buildings and lining up, and it was eerily quiet. The usual fires you attended were loud, screaming and shouting of worried relatives as chatter went up, and big ones like this had news cameras and reporters gathering around, hounding victims for interviews and information.

This time, it was unsettlingly calm.

The kids had all followed routine, lined up with their teachers, each of whom were going along with attendance records, checking off the kids that had arrived and making sure they were where they were supposed to be, while tickling names off. Only the gentle voices of teachers talking in low tones to their classes could be heard instead of the usual clamouring, and you could still hear the alarms of the school’s fire alarms from inside as they rang.

Glowing flames licked up into the sky, windows shattering as glass got too hot and the smoke was black as possessions burned. Kids were crying, and at the gates were camera flashes and news team, all of whom held back out of earshot as they weren’t allowed to film the children, kept back from school property, and it was a blessing you were thankful for, because they would have been overwhelmed. You let out a slow breath, three other ambulances all pulling up, and you swallowed thickly while staring at the burning remnants of a once productive high school.

Even if they weren’t injured, you’d be required to check every kid here, and you were grateful for the assistance of other paramedics. They were already beginning to shift their equipment, setting up with tables and chairs that staff were carrying out from a sports hall storage room that wasn’t connected to the main building, safe from the flames and creating a makeshift triage bay.

Even just as you looked around, there were hundreds of kids that you and Newt would have to sort through alone. The firemen were buzzing around behind you, undoing rolls of hoses and taking them to the nearest hydrants, trying to come up with some kind of game plan, and you stared up at the building, nothing but pure confusion and empathy for the terror these students must be feeling.

“There’s gotta’ be, like, two thousand kids here.” You mumbled, cupping a hand over your eyes to look up at the glare, and your body sank a little.

“Yep, and you get to pick a piece of paper, choose your year group.” You jumped slightly, an unfamiliar voice, and your eyes found a similar uniform to your own, stretched over broad shoulders of a man who was a lot taller than you were, hair pulled back neatly behind his head in a ponytail, tattoos peeking out from under the collar of his shirt, and a beard neatly tucked away underneath his chin. “I’m Arthur, firehouse ‘46, and I’m apparently the one in charge of dividing up all the classes.”

“Is it too much to hope we get the freshmen?” You chuckled, taking a piece of the folded paper from his hands as he tried to keep it fair, and a deep chuckle vibrated through him as he nodded.

“Unfortunately, it would be, because my partner already picked that one out for us. No favouritism, I swear, just luck.”

“I’d challenge you on that, but your fist looks like it’s about the size of my head, so you’d probably win that fight.” He let out a louder laugh at that, raising a brow as you opened the piece of paper, his messy handwriting illegible for a second, and you studied it, before he was letting out a low whistle. “Juniors. Tough break.”

Newt let out a groan, what was arguably going to be the rowdiest and loudest group, protesting the most and kicking up a fuss, and you shrugged, accepting his final pitiful smile before he moved on. Newt watched him go, eyes scanning along him slowly for a second, before you clicked your fingers at him. “Hey, you just fixed things with your boyfriend! You gave me shit for being friendly with other firefighters, stop checking out other paramedics!”

“I wasn’t checking him out!” Newt gasped, cheeks tinting pink. “I was just looking, I guess. He’s not my type, I don’t want them too tall, it makes me feel tiny. I hate that. I want to be pushed up against the wall, not thrown around like a rag-doll. Too much muscle.” You glanced at him again, noting what he meant, because the man did look like he spent every free minute he had at the gym, and you shrugged.

Your eyes wandered then, you couldn't help it, flickering over the others around you before finding your team. The Truck team were all reporting to Thomas, no step-in lieutenant having arrived in Gally’s place yet, and didn’t like the idea of being a firefighter down on your team. He seemed to be coping through, giving out orders to a team twice the size, each breaking away in the usual pairs he made as they divided off to complete tasks.

Around the entrance to your ambulance, two tables had been set up, one on each side and a third one across them, forms being laid out in stacks with pens, each to be filled out by a student and held with them to take home, ones you’d have to sign every time to show you dismissed them, and you flexed your fingers, already anticipating the ache that would come.

The lines were beginning to shift again, teaching staff arriving with their lines of students, waiting to be told what to do, and you shared a look with Newt, before diving right into it. Splitting off the classes, you sat down behind one table, kids slowly filling out each form and coming to sit with you, letting you do initial checks across their eyes, their pulse and their reaction times, before signing each form.

Some were a little more injured, with small cuts and grazes, jostling in the halls knocking them around or to the floor, and you had quite a few bumped heads. Some had worse smoke inhalation, and some had been closer to the initial blast. Those were the worst ones, the ones with head injuries that were filling up the chairs laid out to wait for parents, and you had to not only sign your name on their forms but fill out medical information cards for them, ready to be sent to the hospital, and only an hour in, you felt like your hand was going to drop off. You’d scarcely made it to the other side off half of the kids, watching them all slowly being collected by crying and fearful parents, let in at the gates to find their kids, when you found out what had happened.

The gas taps in the science labs had exploded, a leaky seal that hadn't closed off and a bunsen burner that was too close to the leak. The science experiment gone wrong had sent flames bursting through all the labs along the floor, and you had to choke back bile when the kids who’d been sitting closer to the flames had come in.

They were shaking, sobbing tears and blood from burned skin that still smelled of gas. Melted plastic on smart uniform ties and burned clothing that still looks smokey. Ash was beginning to fall from the sky, blowing in your direction from the wind, some still glowing until it reached the ground, and they were all trembling from the trauma just at the remnants of it. You didn’t blame them.

The kid coming forwards next was shaky, an empty form clutched carefully in his hands as he handed it over, and you scribbled your name on it, looking up at him with a raised brow. “You know you gotta’ fill this out, right? I can’t let you leave until you have.”

“I know.” He whispered, the hands that were clenched under the table being lifted after a moment's hesitation, and he held his palms out, open hand facing you, backs pressed to the table. “I would but it hurt, I tried.”

You could see the etched strains of dotted ink at the top, your eyes wide as you took in the damage to his hands. He seemed alright everywhere else; a little red along parts of his skin where he’d gotten too close to some flames, but other than that, nothing too bad, but the damage to his palms was extensive. Blackened skin was charred and burned, bleeding and red flesh exposed underneath and raw to the cold air and you imagined it would be agony, the injuries travelling all the way to his wrists. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I, um, my hands got burned when I was trying to get out.”

I can see that, kid, but how?” You were filling in the form yourself, scribbling down the notes you could do yourself, and letting him substitute his name, date of birth and class number as you reached those sections, pen moving quickly over the paper as you waited for a reason. “I can't let you go until you tell me.”

“A door got stuck. I had to push it open.”

“How stuck was this door, because these aren’t the kind of burns that happen with quick movements, this took prolonged exposure.” He squirmed in his seat, avoiding your eye, and you gave in. Beside you, scattered around on your table and in the ambulance were the contents of your medkit, and the drawers, all running low on supplies as you’d tended to many injured kids, and you shook your head at his reluctance to speak. “Alright, fine, we’ll wait it out. Any allergies?”

He shook his head, chin wobbling a bit, and you handed his form back over to him, a neat crease down the middle where it was folded in half, and he held his hands out for you upon request. His face screwed up at the sting of the antiseptic spray, soft warnings on murmured apologies on your lips as you sterilised the wounds, before beginning to wrap them with aloe and cream soaked bandages. He shed several tears during the process, twisting to wipe his face on his shoulder as you patched up the first hand.

“Ready to talk, yet?”

He looked up at you again, shaking his head slowly after a second, and you let out a disappointed sigh that you hoped might make him cave, but he held strong. You worked on the other hand, wrapping the medicinal bandages slowly and carefully over his skin, weaving between his fingers and around his thumb, making sure to cover all of the exposed flesh right down to his thumb, before tucking it in carefully and sealing them with tape.

“You can go and wait over on those chairs until you’re ready to fess up, and you’re gonna’ have to go to the hospital for real treatment.” You nodded to one of the teachers as he went, head hung low and sulking as he walked away, before you turned to the next kid.

This one was worse, the same burns but these ones travelled halfway up his forearms, another empty sheet placed down in front of you, before he too was glancing at the last kid with burned hands, and your eyes narrowed on the two. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I got stuck, behind a-”

“A closed door? Is that what you're about to say?” A guilty look flashed over the second boy’s features, wide-eyed as he swallowed the lump formed in his throat, and he nodded. “That’s total bullshit. I don’t know what the two of you have been up to, but you don’t think I know what causes burns when I see them? I work in a firehouse, my firemen get burned up all the time, and this isn’t what happens when you push open a burning door. This is what happens when you hold onto something hot for a long time.”

He didn’t say anything, he just held out his hands, hissing in pain but managing to blink away his tears, unlike his friend, when you began to treat his wounds. The more severe they were, the more supplies you required, and you opted to dab the aloe gel and burn cream mix up to his elbows on each hand with a cotton pad, gentle not to let the tips of your fingers drag on open flesh as dry rubber from your gloves irritated the wounds.

“You need to tell me what happened, because I can’t let you go when you’ve got burns like this. You know it’s criminal evidence, right? If you don’t fess up and tell me the truth, you’ll have to tell it to the police. Why didn’t your teachers bring you forwards first if you had these kinds of injuries?”

“Because we weren’t in class.” He eventually whispered, and now the tears flowed, something inside of him seeming to crack wide open as hot tears flowed, the kid breaking down before you in a sob. You were wrapping his second arm carefully by the time he managed to catch his breath, his reaction shocking you a little, you didn’t want to make the kid cry with your threat of talking to the police, you just wanted to know what would happen. “We didn’t do this, I swear! We weren’t involved!”

“I know that, this was a freak accident, we already know that much, but you can tell me what happened.” Once you were finished, you took a seat before him, taking off blood and ointment stained gloves and throwing them in the bin bag you and Newt were rapidly filling up. As you did, you noticed Newt treating a kid with much the same injuries, your eyes narrowing a little on them for a second, before you sat down, picking up your pen and beginning to fill in the empty form. “We were skipping class.”

“All kids do that.” You chuckled, taking his name and date of birth as he worried his lower lip between his teeth, and just like that, all of a sudden, he was twisting to the side in his seat, retching violently onto the floor, as more tears began to flow. You abandoned the forms, rounding the edge of the table and the area around you where parents had been collecting their kids and teachers had been dismissing them suddenly fell silent, everybody turning to look over, and you rubbed his back gently, the contents of his stomach emptying.

When he was finished, he sat back up, trying to wipe at his mouth and wincing when he rubbed his mouth against his bandages by mistake, before lowering his hand. He slumped, seemingly drained of energy, eyes hooded a little, and you checked his pupils and his reactions again but they came out perfectly fine, and so this reaction wasn’t related to any injuries. “There were four of us.”

“Four of you?”

“Yeah, four of us skipped class.” You glanced around, noting only three with burned hands as Newt dismissed his kid to join your first, and a chilling feeling settled like a pit in your stomach. “We were in the theatre rooms, they’re below the science floors. We were messing around, and Ian went to the toilets in the corridors. When the explosion went off, the floor started to collapse, and a beam went over the door.”

You hated that you already knew where it was going, and your eyes impossibly wide as you glanced around, trying to find the yellow stripes of any fireman you knew to be free from your house, or any house, but they were all busy and out of view.

“The beam caught fire, and we tried so hard to move it, we tried but it hurt so much, and there was so much smoke and it got so hot, and we couldn't do it anymore. We had to go, we tried so hard but we had to go!” He was borderline hysterical, stuttering over his words as he cried, before he was gagging again, and you stepped out of the way, just avoiding his upchuck as he emptied his stomach again, guilt and anxiety taking a physical reaction on him. You processed his words, before the heavy truth settled over you again.

“Oh my God, Newt, there’s a kid still trapped in there.”

“What?” Your partner whipped around in his seat, eyes wide, before looking to the kid still heaving, and the other two with matching injuries. “Go find someone on the team, I'll finish up here!”

You nodded, pausing for a second to look around, before catching sight of a few metallic strips glinting in the light not far from the Squad truck. You stumbled over your feet, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to get there. Rounding the edge of the red van, you found Winston sitting on the edge of the truck, door open, one foot on the floor by his helmet as the other was pulled up, his back pressed to the wall, and he was panting for breath, sweating as his mask lay beside him.

He cracked an eye open as he looked up at you, confusion taking over his face for a second, before concern was replacing it. “What’s up? Aren’t you dismissing kids?”

“There’s still a kiss trapped in there?”

“We did a sweep, everyone did, they checked every room and every floor, all the rooms.” You shook your head, hands shaking a little with your fear, and you felt the tremors spread over your body.

“No, no, there is someone.” You took a deep breath to steady yourself, and he sat up a little further. “There’s three kids, burns all over their hands and up their arms, because they were skipping class. They were right under the explosions, a kid was in one of the bathrooms and a beam fell over the door, they tried to move it but they couldn't, he’s trapped inside.”

“He’s been in there since this fucking happened? That was hours ago!” Despite his shock and disbelief, he was on his feet again, grabbing for his mask and his helmet, being the first one to finish his set of tasks clearly not coming much in handy, because he was going to be going back inside. “Where was he?”

“Uh, they said they were near the drama and theatre halls.” He nodded his head, hooking his mask back up to his oxygen tank as he pulled it up and adjusted the straps on his shoulders. “Winston, I gotta’ go with you.”

“No way, it’s falling apart in there.”

“I know, but you said it yourself, it’s been hours. That kid is gonna’ need immediate first aid, and how much first aid do you know?” He looked conflicted, tapping his foot a little and glancing around, watching as a few more members of your team, as well as others, all began to emerge from different exits. There was only so much of the fire they could risk putting out, when the building was igniting faster than they could contain it, it would have to simply burn itself out. “C’mon, Winston. Just grab me gear and let's go.”

“Fine, but stick by my fucking side and don’t take a step away, okay?”

“I promise!” You nodded, and he opened up one of the spare lockers. You knew the drill, kicking off your shoes and grabbing the heatproof gear that was labelled in a silver tin with your name across the front in permanent marker. Tugging the pants up your legs as fast as you could, you sealed them at the waist, tying them tightly and grabbing your jacket. You buttoned it up, fingers shaking as you did, before kicking off your shoes, uncaring of where they landed.

Pulling on your boots, you knelt down to tie them, your med bag landing beside you as Winston had retrieved it, and he looked more than anxious as he stared at you, letting you tuck the laces into the edge of the shoes to hide them once they were tight. “You’re gonna’ have to carry your bag, because you need to wear a tank and mask.”

He shook the other objects in his hands, and you stood, turning around and guiding your arms through the straps as he held it out, your breath forced from your lungs as the heavy weight settled onto your back. Following it, he rested the mask over your face, the glass fogging up for a second as you took heavy breaths, clearing a second later when cool oxygen was twisted on and began to come through. He fixed his own mask, gloves and helmet following as you copied him, checking it was all sealed up tight around your skin, before grabbing your bag.

You always felt like an astronaut in this gear, big and puffy and baggy, like you were walking with added gravity following behind him in wide and shuffling steps as quickly as you could, nerves and fear riding more and more as you headed towards burning entrances. It was something you’d never get used to, the idea of walking straight into flames, of walking into a burning building, and you patted deftly across the front of your helmet to find your torch, turning it on as Winston did the same, and then, you were plunging into thick black smoke.

It was like something from a horror movie, you could see other firemen wandering around, their shadows as they tried to at least secure as much as they could as the fire ripped through the building, burning through whatever fuel it could, and none of them paid you any mind. Clutching your bag up to your chest, you kept your eyes fixed on Winston, not daring to take your eyes off of him in case you lost him, and he was following signs as he went, trying to find the downstairs floors of the drama and theatre.

Your steps left footprints in the ash that was lining the floor, each footstep padded to silence by the thick grey layer, like a breadcrumb trail as you went, and it was a guiding light that was brushed away seconds later with the air currents created by flames.

You knew it when you finally arrived, large amphitheatres and halls, Winston pausing as he tried to identify which way the toilets would be, and his head twisted as he looked from one end to the other.

“You check that side, I’ll check this one. Do not go out of yelling range or sight.”

You gave him a mock-salute, peeling off to the left when he went to the right, and you scanned along the walls for the doorways.

There was nothing, just places where posters had been on the walls, the smashed glass of photos or peel offs to more corridors, but no toilets or burned beams. Just as you reached the end of the hall, only one direction coming off of it in a short pathway, you noticed something. It was crumbled now, black and crumbled but it could definitely have once been a solid beam, and as you squinted through the smoke, you could just about make out a doorway.

“Winston! I think I got it!” You yelled as loud as you could, turning around to find him spinning to look at you, and you held an arm out in a point down a connected corridor. He took off in a jog, as fast as he could move in the heat and the layers of clothes, and while it took him only seconds to reach you, it felt like it dragged on and on, the emergency making everything seem too slow as you worried for the trapped kid’s well-being.

He stepped ahead first, pacing towards it, and you followed after him, a slightly relieved breath leaving you when you were close enough for your head torches to reflect on signs signalling for the toilets. Winston placed a hand on the beam as the two of you approached it, pressing down on it as best he could, and the beam groaned at the pressure, but despite the force he applied, it didn’t crack.

He held out an arm, pushing you back slightly as his hand went to the toolkit around his waist, and unhooking a small hand axe. He held it up, adjusting it carefully in his grip, before swinging it up high and bringing it back down. It dug in, getting stuck for a second, and a large splintering sound filled the air, but it didn’t break.

He tried again, and again, and your anxiety was almost ready to burst when it finally cracked, hitting the floor with a loud thud, and you jumped, wincing slightly at the sound. The half still attached to the ceiling fell down, bringing a little more of the ceiling down, and it all became unstable again. Pieces of the roof were crumbling away, crashing down in bundles of flames to the floor, but at least one problem was solved.

Putting away the axe, Winston kicked open the door, waiting to see if any fire would come out. There was fire crawling along the roof, but the tiled floors were clean, the room smoky and filled with ash but reasonably safe, and the two of you entered.

As promised, there he was, the fourth student was unconscious on the floor beside one of the sinks. You glanced around, noting the jacket he must have been wearing was soaked with water, lay over his face as he’d tried to breathe through it to stop too much smoke inhalation, and Winston glanced at you as you sunk to your knees.

“Smart kid, that move probably saved his life.” You peed it back, checking for any signs of breathing, and you found his vets to be rising and falling very slowly and weakly, barely taking in any oxygen at all. Lifting up the torch from your keyring, you raised an eyelid, bloodshot eyes encasing pupils that were hardly responsive, reactions that took over a second to come into focus, and barely moving.

Scanning along his arms, you noted the raw burns that were forming along his flesh, tugging your bag open quickly and grabbing for the aloe inside. If he was to be carried back through the building, you wanted to minimise any risk of his wounds getting any worse. You didn’t try to be delicate or gentle, you were rushing, knowing you had to put speed over gentleness now, and that you could treat them properly once you were back outside.

Twisting on down on the taps, not much water came through, dripping through the pipes, and you used your teeth to pull off one glove, daring to touch the water. It wasn’t exactly cold, the pipes underground being heated by the fires above, but it was cool enough, and you dropped piles of bandages down into the sink to begin to soak. Taking open the gel, you squeezed out thick rows of it onto his arms, using your bare hand to rub it in, trying to be fast as the skin on the back of your hand began to hurt. Once it was rubbed in, you began to pick up dripping bandages, not even bothering to ring them out, before sealing the cool wrapping around his arms as best you could to keep them secured.

As soon as they were on, you were pulling your glove back on, and rubbing at the back of your hand through the material to soothe the pain there.

“He needs oxygen, with reaction times like this, I’m surprised he’s still breathing.”

“I can give him my mask.”

Winston reached for his mask, and you shook your head. He was covered in burns, he was out cold, and there was no way he’d wake up anytime between now and the hospital, it at all. Despite being alive, you had no idea what the long-term effects would be on him, and you hoped for the best, but you knew there wasn’t much Winston could do without his mask. “You can’t, you’re gonna’ have to carry him out of here. He takes my mask.”

No way, I’m trained for this, you aren’t. You’ll choke up in here before getting back to the main corridors.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t exactly carry this kid. So, if we want to get him out of here alive, we’re just going to have to risk it.” You didn’t wait for his response, ignoring his protests as you took off your helmet, reaching behind your head for the elastics of the mask, and pulling them off. The second it was gone, your skin flared up at the rush of heat, and you took a gasping breath. Your lungs were searching for oxygen, the flames burning most of it away, and you were getting so little now that your pure source was gone.

Hooking the mask over the kid’s face, you took off your tank, holding it on your arms as Winston glared at you from behind the glass, crouching down to pick the boy up from the floor, and you placed the tank onto him too, waiting for Winston to adjust his grip before letting go of the pair. Putting your helmet back on, you tucked your hair under the collar of your jacket, protecting the back of your neck.

Zipping your bag back up and draping the damp hoodie over his head for added protection against the flames, you hid your face in your elbow, coughing against the smoke and trying to breathe lightly so as not to suck too much of it into your lungs.

“Follow me, keep up, okay? Don’t fall behind.”

There were worry and concern in his voice, friendly and desperate as he pleased with you, and you nodded your head. He turned, moving as quickly as he could as he left the bathrooms again, backing or of the door and back into the hallway. If you’d thought the bathroom had been bad, this was far worse, your eyes watering and lungs burning as soon as you stepped out. You kept one arm raised, simply to protect your face, your bag clenched under the other arm.

Winston was moving faster than you were, the lack of oxygen making you fall behind, but you could still seem him ahead, and you could see the large and fresh imprints of his bots in the ash before they were fading in the swirling storm of burning debris, following them once the smoke was too much for you to keep your eyes raised for too long. They were stinging, watering continuously to blink free dust that got in them, and your tears were almost absorbed right off of your face.

When you looked back up, daring to stare into the hallway, it was void of movement, all the firemen having cleared out as the smoke got thicker, burning through the insulation in the walls now. The corridors forked, and you paused, trying to remember which way you’d come. There was no daylight to guide you, no windows you could see through, just thick smoke lit up by orange flames, and you swallowed down on a sore throat coughing again as you grew more and more scared.

You had to move, you knew you did, and so you chose one option, knowing that moving in either way was better than simply standing still. Following it along, the further you went, the more and more unfamiliar it became, the minutes melting away as you stumbling along all the while knowing you’d chosen the wrong way. You found the wall, hand sitting on it lightly to help guide your way, and your fingers bumped against a raised section.

Pausing, you brushed the dust away, squinting to read what it said. There were several classroom guidances, and then something that made you want to cry with relief, even if it was the wrong direction. The gardens. You hadn't seen any gardens upon coming into the school grounds, and so you assumed you were on the other side of the building now, having stumbled along for so long you’d moved all that way, but as long as you got out, you’d be fine.

Following that guidance, you paused each time you found a sign, before finally, doors that had burned right off their hinges and had fallen off allowed a little sunlight to poke through the smoke.

Your feet scraped on the ground as you finally made it out, soft ash falling away to be replaced with concrete, and you wanted to fall to the ground, knees weak with bliss at escaping the building, but you forced yourself to keep going. You were gasping, throat raw as you took deep breaths, finally able to do so once again and you felt a little dizzy as your head spun at the sudden rush of fresh air.

You grabbed at the front of your jacket, sweltering in the thick material as you tugged on it until it came loose, flapping at the front and letting in cold air and you felt a little less restrained.

You stayed away from the building as you tried to walk around it, following the flashing lights on the ambulances until the place where you’d been stationed started to come into sight once again. It was clearer, only a few kids left milling around, the fire teams having retreated back to their vans, equipment being stripped off and water bottles handed out, and you searched for your own team.

You found them, all gathered around and starting at the entrance, even Winston and Newt, and you noticed that one of the ambulances was gone, presumably having rushed your reduced child to the hospital. They were waiting for you to emerge from the entrance you’d entered, all looking nervous, and Newt was the first to notice you coming around the other side.

As soon as he had, the group were turning to you, your body slumping a little more under your weight, and you staggered towards them. Newt found you first, taking your bag from your hands as you held it out to him, and offering him a tired smile as he shook his head fondly.

“You gave me a fucking heart attack.”

“I’m perfectly fine, Newt, I swear.” He frowned for only a second longer, before his lips were breaking in a smile, and Brenda was up next. She took you into a tight hug, arms underneath the edge of your jacket, which Minho was peeling down your arms for you and taking away the added weight, and you thanked him silently with a nod as you wrapped your arms back around her. “Bren, I’m okay.”

“You think you’re a damn firefighter, I swear it!”

You laughed at that, throat a little raspy as it trailed off into a caught, and Newt chuckled. “Let’s get you some water, okay?”

“That sounds awesome.” You followed them over to the trucks, Newt jogging ahead to get you a bottle, and as soon as you arrived, you took it. You cracked the lid open taking a large gulp, and looking around for a second, before the person you were unintentionally searching for was found. He looked angry, a face like thunder as he stormed over, shoulders squared and tense with furrowed brows.

His steps had purpose, and the closer he got, the more you could take him in. Slightly dirty skin, sweaty and stained with soot and ash had tracks under his eyes cut into them from tears, the edges of his scowl wobbling as he looked still on the edges of jagged emotions, and you were filled with guilt. You met him halfway, mouth dropping to talk to him but he beat you to it, a sharp inhale before he is grabbing your arm, and dragging you between the two parked fire trucks as the rest of the firemen all seemed to clear away in fear of his anger.

“Are you fucking insane?” There was a crack to his voice that you didn’t comment on, giving away that his anger was actually fear, no rage at all but simply worry that you had caused, and you hated that you’d done it, but you wouldn't take your action back, not when you’d saved a life once again. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you’d let that boy die in there. “Do you have any idea how fucking worried I was? I come out after hours in that burning building to find you and check you’re okay just to find out you’ve gone into the fucking wreckage? To find out you took off your goddamn mask and got lost?”

His frown melted away, fresh tears filling his eyes, and he sniffed lightly, his face crumpling again as his tears came free. Two large droplets leaked along his cheeks, leaving wet marks, and your stomach twisted with guilt. You took off your gloves, dropping them down to the floor without a care to be able to cup his cheeks and wipe them away from his flushed skin as he stared at you. “I got stuck, Tommy. That’s it, I’m sorry, okay? I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I knew that kid was in there and I let him die to save my own life.”

You sank down, every muscle in your body aching as you sat on the edge of the van, finally giving in to your exhaustion, and he let out a shaky and weak sob again. He followed, sinking to his knees in front of you, his entire body collapsing under the weight of his worry, but his eyes never left your own.

He lifted a bare hand, cupping your cheek the way you had for him a second ago, and his eyes moved as he swept his sights over your face, trying to take a more deep and calming breath. The simple skin to skin touch grounded him.

“Don’t make me lose you, too.” He whispered, a silent beg in his words not to leave him, and your heart cracked a little in your chest. “I know you’re mad at me right now, okay? You say you’re not but I know you are because I spent enough time with you mad when we first met to know what that looks like on you.”

You chuckled, his lips flicking up at the edges as you did.

“I can handle you being mad, though, okay? I can handle that, because I love you, but I can’t handle you dying. I can’t take that. Don’t do that to me, I need y-” Your hands smoothed over his chest, finding the edges of the jacket he had yet to shed and pulling him forwards. You bowed your head down to his level, cutting off his words by placing your lips on his, and he shuddered under your touch, groaning into your mouth as his mind caught up with what was happening.

He panted slightly, twisting his head to the side to get a better angle, and this was nothing like last night. He wasn’t shy or worried, he just poured out everything he felt, his lips working slowly but surely with your own, a desperation and need hidden underneath in the kiss that made you tremble, because it was nothing like you’d ever felt before. You didn’t feel the metal you were sitting on or the truck behind you, the voices of everyone still around seemed to face away, your entire focus shifting to only him.

He pressed up, kissing you just as firmly and gripping your jaw with a little more force. After a moment longer, lungs demanding air, he pulled back, long enough for a gasping breath and to lick over his lips. He forced himself to stand up on shaky legs, one hand on your waist pulling you with him, before he was pressing you back into the edge of the truck for support. The cold metal against your back was nothing with the way his chest pressed to you, drawing in his head as he held you so close, that hand sliding around your waist to pull you flush up against him.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, your nose bumping his as he stole several more pecks from your lips as the two of you caught your breath, and you puckered your lips for him each time, stuttering as his fingertips pressed into your skin through your shirt. “I know this isn’t how you wanted our real first kiss to go.”

“I so don’t care anymore. Just shut up and kiss me again, sweetheart.” He closed the gap himself, and you hummed happily as his tongue dragged over your lower lip, tempting you to part them, and you moaned weakly when his tongue dared to dip out and brush with your own. It was a connection you both needed, long overdue and frantic.

A messy kiss, clashes of teeth with need and raspy breaths between kisses, bumping foreheads when you moved but you'd have time to perfect it, but right now, you just needed to make the promises to each other that you were okay, and you were still here. When he finally pulled back, it was reluctantly, dragging slightly kiss swollen lips away from your own to stare at you, darkened eyes going soft the longer he looked, and he pulled away long enough to run the back of a finger over your cheek, a look that could only be described as adoration taking over. “I love you, and you don’t have to say it back, not until you really mean it, but I mean it and I want you to know. I want everyone to know, you’re always gonna’ be my first and only choice, angel.”

You grinned, a giggle that you muted by pressing your lips to his own in a chaste kiss, and when you pulled back, he followed your lips for a second, only furthering your intimate amusement.

“I’m never going to get tired of being able to kiss you now.”

“I should hope not.” He beamed, brushing the tip of his nose with your own, before stepping back fully, and bringing his hand to yours, weaving your fingers together. “Go sort out your team, lieutenant, they’ll be needing you to help pack away.”

“I’m sure they can wait a few more minutes, I’ve waited months to get here with you.”

“Yeah, well, you can have me all to yourself later. You still owe me pizza.” His joy only brightened more at the offer, his brows raising, and he was nodding enthusiastically. “I’ll stay over, and you can kiss me as much as you want.”

“I’d love that.” He pecked your lips one more time, a pink blush taking over his features as he realised he could now, before he was stepping back. “I’ll meet you back at the firehouse?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You whispered, and he turned away, giving you a second of privacy, lifting your fingers to brush over your lips, your mind still reeling as you attempted to process what had happened. A throat cleared a second later, and Newt was standing with his hands on his hips, head tilted toward the ambulance.

“I’m not putting all that shit away myself so you can daydream about kissing Tommy.” He scoffed, teasing you a little as he made his way over, and you couldn't help the smirk your lips were forming. “So, did he finally man up and kiss you? He's only been talking about it for months.”

“I kissed him, actually.” Newt’s jaw dropped, his hands shooting up in the air with a loud cheer to follow.

“I fucking knew it! I fucking knew it! Gally owes me twenty damn bucks, and I will collect.” He slung an arm over your shoulders, guiding you towards the ambulance that he needed help with beginning to pack away, and you shrugged, reaching up your hand to hold onto Newt’s as it hung over your shoulder.

“I can’t believe you were betting on us.”

“I was betting on you, I knew he would psych himself out, all my money was on you, love.” He offered a cheesy grin, pinching at your cheek, and you raised your brows.

“Well then, shouldn't I get half of the winnings? Since I helped you to victory, and all..” Newt let you go when you reached the van, the tables being folded away by the staff, but there were medical supplies piled high in the entrance to the ambulance, and you had to pack them all away correctly, and double-check over the doses of medicines, in such a high-risk area for theft.

“Tell you what, I’ll buy you a cocktail with half the winnings, if you come on a double date with me and Derek?” You chuckled, unsure whether or not he was serious, and an odd look passed over newt’s face, the blond scratching at his jaw and avoiding your eye.

“A double date, really?”

“Look, you already know Derek, you and he are friends. Good friends. Tommy has been my best mate since I was just a lad and always will be, and you’re my best friend too. I really like Derek, okay? I really like him, and I want him and Tommy to get along too, because they’re both so important to me, and I figure a double date makes it casual.” He shrugged, looking back up to you, curious for your opinion as his cheeks grew warm. “Is it stupid? I just felt like going out to dinner or something made for less tension than a baseball game and a pizza.”

“It’s not stupid, Newt. I’m totally down for it, sounds fun, but you’re gonna’ have to convince Thomas.” You teased, and your partner rolled his eyes.

“Oh, please, I don’t gotta’ do shit if you’re on board. You have him wrapped around your little finger. You don’t even have to pucker up or bat your eyelashes, he’s already all soft on you.” Newt pouted, mocking you playfully with the words, and your guts twisted in a nervous excitement.

“I’ll talk to him about it, tomorrow morning.”

“Breakfast date?” He climbed up into the back of the van, beginning to scoop up the materials like bandages and plasters to put them away, and you started sorting through the bottles of medicine and pills that would need counting.

“Dinner date, actually.” Newt gasped falsely, holding a hand over his heart.

“Scandalous, staying over already.”

“You’re just jealous.” You shot back, his face dropping in a mock glare.

“Low blow.” He threw a roll of bandages at you, ones that bounced off of your head as you laughed at him, and rolled away to the concrete, and he pointed at them. “Go get them, and leave your attitude out there when you come back.”

You flipped him off, standing up to follow after the sealed bandages packet, and you scooped them up, glancing around the scene as two ambulances had already left, their house firetrucks following, and the third house was finishing their packing up. Brenda was packing away the coats into the van, hanging them up on the hooks inside the compartment to be washed and cleaned for later, and Minho was rolling the fire hoses back up with Jeff and Clint.

Thomas was rubbing a hand over his forehead, staring up at the building for a second, before turning, glancing around, and his eyes found yours. He paused for a second, one eye dropping in a lazy wink a moment later when he let Thomas crack through his lieutenant persona for a second, and he licked over his lips, stretching to a wide smile. He nodded his head for a second, a simple gesture but it felt like more than just that, and your lips pressed together to hold your smile, nodding your head in return, and letting your stare linger for a second longer, before going back to work.

Newt was waiting, still packing away and whistling a tune to himself as he worked, taking the bandages from you when you approached, and you hummed along in time with the tune once you recognised it enough, his eyes glinting when you did. It was an unspoken thing, a delicate symbol of friendship as the two of you worked in quiet harmony, humming along to the same song as you worked, settling in to a well worn and familiar routine that you hoped would never break.

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 9.2

"Oh my god!"  Your shriek nearly deafened the yaksha while your nails dug into his shoulder and back.  The wind whipped your hair into both of your faces, much to his dismay as he struggled to keep track of his footing.  "This is crazy! This is awesome!" Another leap and your heart dropped to your stomach in a fashion that sucked the breath out of your lungs.  "W-wait this is terrifying!  Xiao!  Slow down!"  

You asked for this yet have the audacity to panic?  Xiao tensed under the increasing grip around his body and made another leap.  Well, a 'leap' is a bit of an understatement; whether he was teleporting or zipping through the air, you couldn't tell--it happened so fast your mind couldn't keep up.  The two of you were nearing the top of Mount Tianheng, and with every 'jump' he took you'd look down to find another fifty or so feet added to the distance between you two and the ground.

Just as Xiao was beginning to think you wanted him to stop, an exasperated laugh left your lips.  "This is awesome!"

The yaksha clicked his tongue at the myriad of sounds you were making.  First you were screaming with excitement, then terror, then laughing, and now you're gasping?  Will you just make up your mind? Are you scared or not scared?  He couldn't keep up with your quick switches just as you couldn't keep up with his speed.

And then there was the fact that you asked him specifically to carry you up the mountain, not climb up with you or merely teleport to the top.  Was this the duty of a boy friend?  He didn't recall you ordering Aether to carry you at all during your travels.  Minus the time you had your leg clawed by that lawachurl, but that doesn't really count--

His feet lightly landed onto the grass at the top of the mountain and he stilled, stealing a glance at your profile.  "We're here."  Archons, your grip finally relaxed against his stinging skin.  He was expecting that classic dumbfounded look on your face, but you pulled away with the widest--and dumbest--grin once your feet lowered to the ground.

"That was amazing-!" You nearly lost your balance from the vertigo of travelling so quickly, but Xiao grabbed your arm before you could stumble over the edge of the cliff.  "Can we do that again?"

"You can't be serious," his eyes narrowed in disdain.  

"One hundred percent! Come on, please?"

Wha-What is this all of a sudden?!  Xiao averted his eyes the second your pleading ones took hold.  He let go of your arm as his gaze fell to the grass.  

You couldn't contain the gasp within your lips, "You're...blushing?"  You don't remember if it's happened before, but the very tips of his ears were pink and it was painfully obvious in the sunlight of late morning.  "Xiao, the Vigilant Yaksha, BLUSHING?!"

"I suggest you keep your quips to a minimum unless you--"

"I can't believe this is happening! What did I do to make you blush? You're ears are bright red!"  Your hands cupped the sides of your face as you freaked out.  He was so neutral when it came to emotion, but the past sixteen hours or so he's shown you more of his vulnerable side.  But the adeptus was visibly showing emotion! "This never happened before!"

"There's nothing timid about you, having the courage to mock me.  So fight me," he started to raise his glare from the ground.  "How long do you think your body will last against my blows?"

"Rex Lapis must've blessed me-!"  

In your excitement, you failed to remember that the ledge was right behind you.  One second you were laughing your ass off with a face as bright red as Xiao's, and the next you were flailing breathlessly in the air attempting to find solid ground.  Xiao's figure shrunk at the top of the cliff as you plummeted.  The shock rendered you unable to scream and instead you gasped for breath as the wind whistled in your ears.

Xiao lifted his gaze in time to watch you fall over, and he simply moved so that his gaze could still follow your shrinking figure.  "It's a wonder humans survived this long," he muttered with a slightly amused expression.  Does she not realize she has her wind glider?  He failed to notice the corner of his lips curling upward.  

He had no intention of letting you plummet to your death.  But after the stunt you just pulled on him, he figured it wouldn't hurt to tease you a bit too.  You were by no means anywhere near the ground or any other hazardous objects; his enhanced vision and depth perception confirmed it.  Why not let you fall a bit?  Maybe your wits would return to you and you'd actually remember the glider attached to your back.

Three...four...five...Xiao counted the seconds.  You were nearly half-way down the cliffside.  ...Six...She's not going to remember, is she?  Seven..."Tch." He prepared to jump.

I-I'm going to die!  You finally managed to inhale a reasonable amount of air, not daring to peek behind you at the ground that was closing in.  Your thoughts were racing with nothing but panic.  Think, think! Think of something! You wanted to smack yourself when you remembered who accompanied you.  He wouldn't just let you die like this, it was stupid of you to even forget that much!  You involuntarily reached for the cliffside where Xiao was now nothing but a miniscule dot in the distance.  

"Xiao!"

Warm arms wrapped themselves around you the instant his name fell from your lips, and the familiar sensation of teleporting enveloped you.  You spun around and hugged him as tightly as you could the second your feet touched the ground.  He didn't even tense up this time--

"You didn't remember your glider," he pointed out nonchalantly.  Almost teasingly.

"That's why you just stood there?!"  He grumbled something you couldn't hear and returned your embrace with his head buried at the crook of your neck.  His ears were still red.  Are you telling me this is how he acts when he's shy?!  

The two of you stayed in that position for awhile, never quite loosening your hold on the other as if to ensure they wouldn't float away like an anemo slime or a bloaty floaty.  A cool breeze slid across your skin--an intimate gesture Xiao wouldn't dare outright commit, much less think of.  And yet the wind entangled itself in your hair much like his hand would clasp around your nape.  It seemed to embody the long-lost gentleness of the yaksha.  It was subtle.  Soft.  An indirect display of affection.  Maybe it was just your imagination.

Just awhile longer, Xiao's heart yearned as he held you close until rational thought returned to power.  Your absence would sting more now that he's seen you, but that didn't take away from the fact that this visit allowed the sealing of your bond, and therefore saved you from a painful demise for the time being.  The last thing he wanted was for you to return to Childe, but maybe this is what would prevent his karma from touching you.  The farther you are from him, the safer you'd be.

But for right now, just awhile longer, he'll allow himself to drown in your warmth.

...................

"You seem more than eager to get back to work, Mezzetin," Childe teased as he led you through the halls of the palace.  The two of you had just returned to Snezhnaya, but the Tsaritsa had apparently no intentions of letting either of you rest after your long journey.  

"Don't mistake my happiness for the Lantern Rite as happiness for the Tsaritsa's operations.  I'm only cooperating to keep the peace in Teyvat."  

"So, when are you going to tell me what you and Xiao did?"

"Excuse me?  Since when is my private life any of your business?"

"I have the right to know since you so blatantly disobeyed my orders not to leave the harbor."  Childe grabbed the door handle and faced you.  "I expected more professionalism from you, but honestly, I'm not at all surprised," he baited with narrowed eyes.  "I could tell the Tsaritsa, you know."

Your heart seemed to skip a beat at the thought of facing her again.  Something about that nightmare you had when you were with Xiao ignited a vague fear of her that you didn't really have before.  You swallowed hard before jutting your chin up at the harbinger.  "Do it."

"Oh?"  Childe squinted as he towered over you.  

"Do it," you repeated.  "Who do you think she'll discipline more, since it was a certain harbinger's idea to bring me along and didn't properly watch me?"  Childe stared at you for a few silent seconds before twisting the door handle and entering Dottore's lab without another word.  Yeah, that's what I thought.

"GAHHHHH!"  A deafening, sickening cry of pain snapped you out of your gloating session.  It was much like the rest that you've heard; the test subjects of Dottore were often strangers to mercy.  But unlike the trials before, there were no piles of bodies lying in the middle of the arena.

"Did he just start for the day?"  You forcefully peeled your eyes away from the suffering man and kept them on Childe.  It would be unusual if he did; he started in the early morning hours, but you and Childe had arrived in mid-afternoon.  

"Dunno," he shrugged slightly.  

"Ah! Childe."  Dottore noticed your presences and gave a signature manic grin, his arms spreading wide.  "We have made a breakthrough!"

"This doesn't look like a breakthrough to me," you muttered loud enough for him to hear.  Anger flickered across the masked man's face before he reset his eyes on his fellow harbinger.

"This is the fifth subject of the day."  The man's cold stare eyed the suffering Fatui agent with something similar to a sadistic excitement.  "It appears your idea to bring that brat with you succeeded."

You didn't hear Dottore, intent on watching the Fatui agent closely.  He had finally stopped shrieking, and he pushed himself to his feet rather unsteadily while wiping the sweat away from his forehead.  He was healthy despite being drenched in sweat and breathing heavily while he recovered from the subsiding pain.  You let out a sigh of relief you didn't know you were holding in.  You didn't have to watch another person die at your feet--

Wait a minute.  He wasn't dying.

A cool shiver crawled down your spine at the realization, and you flinched when a manic laugh escaped Dottore.  "That was the original serum at work.  How's that for a breakthrough, brat?"

"That's...impossible," you uttered with wide eyes.

"Thank your superior for making it possible."

Your attention slid to Childe, who didn't bother to look you in the eye.  His expression was unreadable, and it remained that way when he escorted you to your room in silence.  His presence couldn't feel more hostile in that moment.

"You...my bond...," you choked when the two of you were at the door of your room.  "You lied.  You used me! You used our bond for your own selfish purposes!  How could you?"

"Don't start this, Mezzetin," a weary sigh left him as he turned to you.  His allegedly guilty appearance only infuriated you.  

"Outside, now."

The second the two of you were outside the palace walls, you let yourself snap into a fit of rage.  Childe had barely started to turn around when an ice shard shot at his face, slicing across his cheek.  His blood splattered onto the snow, and he wiped at his face to examine his blood on his fingers.  "Mezzetin--"

"Don't 'Mezzetin' me!"  Hundreds more icicles shot at him in a flurry until he had no choice but to defend himself and summon his hydro blades to parry the blows.  "This was the last straw!  I'll kill you!"

"Then I'll be more than happy to give you a fight."  Despite his usual excitement when it came to battle, he was calm and collected, even so much as cold and distant.  He lacked the usual spark fighting always gave him.  His eyes were empty and lacking of enthusiasm.

"Tch."  Your vision glinted in the sunlight as the temperature surrounding you dropped below zero.  Snow whipped through the air to create a barricade that caged the two of you in a small arena.  The blizzard made the snowflakes like needles that could cut through skin if one got too close to the edge.  Your own powers seldom hurt you, but in your anger, a few rogue icicles cut across your forehead, arms, and your back.

At the pace you were going at, it was self-destructive.

Childe noted this as he parried your every attack despite his blades turning frozen solid now.  "Mezzetin!  Keep this up, and I won't hold back!"  His warning fell on deaf ears.

"What makes you think I want you to hold back?  I'm settling this here and NOW!"  The snow beneath his feet erupted, sending him spiraling out of the eye of the storm and into the blizzard's rage.  You summoned your polearm without hesitation and began to walk towards him.  

His arms were stuck to his blades, which were stuck in the ground.  He must've attempted to summon a new set and accidentally froze his limbs.  He watched you approach, hunched over to shield himself from the blizzard.

"You said visiting him would be good for me!"  Your screams were carried away by the wind.  "That you realized your own selfishness!  This was nothing but more manipulation, wasn't it? You're NOTHING but a lying monster!"  The wind grew harsher.  Your blade grew sharper once you were a few feet from him.

Cold eyes looked down upon the Tsaritsa's war dog.  What a pathetic site it was; an esteemed harbinger on his knees before you.  A harsh kick to his jaw dislodged his hands from the ice they were trapped in, and more blood was splattered onto the snow.

"That's it," a smile of satisfaction spread across Childe's lips, making your eyes narrow in disgust.  "You're finally showing potential."  He sat up with his back to you.  "If you constantly fight like this, I'd listen to you more carefully."

"Shut up--!"  Your lance stabbed at his figure, but in one fluid motion he swung around and deflected your blade with his hand.  A sudden burst of electricity sent you flying several feet backwards.  "Ngh!"

"But unfortunately for you, ojou-chan, you misinterpreted the entire situation."  Your clearing vision settled on the electro delusion that glinted at his hip.  His figure stood over you and a sharp, hot pain tore through your side.

"Gah!"  

"I have the right to discipline my subordinates as I see fit," he twisted his blade and dug it deeper into you, completely uncaring that you were squirming around and twitching from the electric shocks pulsing through your body.  "Listen closely, girlie, because I won't say it again."  You desperately clawed at his weapon, but he held it firmly in place and refused to remove it.  "You needn't tell me what you learned from Mr. Zhongli or your adeptus boyfriend.  I don't care for that information.

"My bringing you back to Liyue was truly for your own benefit, and it just so happens it was for the Tsaritsa's benefit as well.  Make no mistake Mezzetin, I am on your side when it comes to private life.  But when it comes to work and the Tsaritsa, my loyalty lies with Snezhnaya.

"I don't care if you don't believe me.  If you so badly want to escape the Tsaritsa's grasp, you have much to learn.  Patience, for starters."  He ripped his blade out of you.  "Don't take this too personally, ojou-chan.  I don't condone disorderly conduct from anyone under my supervision."

[skswriting]

the lottery offering

Rating: M Pairing: Jeongguk/You Words: 22,334 Summary:  “I volunteer,” you say softly, gasps rising up from the crowd behind you.  You can hear some of your tribe members burst into tears, some mutterings of thank the gods.  Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Elder Choi smiling smugly.  “Are you sure, child?” Alpha Kim asks gravely, “Are you ready to leave all this behind?  You will not be able to come home.”  You internally scoff.  Home.  This place hasn’t been home in years.“I am sure, Alpha Kim.  I volunteer to be the offering this year,” you confirm, voice unwavering. AN: i’ve been working on this for too long and it ITSELF is too long i literally just wanted to write about big dick jeongguk why am i like this Warnings: jeongguk is an alpha, there’s like a hint of beastiality? you don’t actually get fucked by a wolf though you just want to be lol, lots of gratuitous sex and overall cheesiness because jk is still a goofball, pussy eating, finger, edging, overstim? maybe? or at least a poor attempt at it, blowjobs, vaginal sex and knotting, i’m not sure if i have to warn about anything else, also major warning i read through this SO quick i was tired of looking at it i’m sorry

When one of the Elders asks for you to meet in their cabin after dinner, your heart sinks to your feet.  The Elders, and most of your tribe for that matter, don’t go out of their way to speak to you, so for one of them to call upon you can’t be good news.

You don’t eat much, stomach twisting violently as you sit in a secluded corner, immune to the chattering around you.  Maybe today is the day they kick you out.  It’s no secret your tribe doesn’t like you, your orphanism a major hurdle they’re unable to overcome, considering the scarce resources your tribe are reluctant to share with someone who’s unable to provide.

“Elder Choi,” you knock politely, bowing your head as you pop your head in, “You wished to see me?”

“Ah, yes, Y/N, come in child,” his voice is soft, giving no hint as to what’s to come, “Please, sit.”

You kneel on a pillow at his tea table, accepting the cup from him.  It’s silent as you both drink, your mind whirling as you try to think what’s about to happen.

“It will be your first Lottery tomorrow, yes?” he asks.

“Yes, Elder Choi,” you answer.

He nods and falls silent again.  He stares out the window and you watch him carefully, the flames of his fire casting shadows over his face.  He gives you a small smile when he faces you again, setting his cup down with a decisive clank.

“We have not had to host a Lottery for a few years.  The Lottery, though of mutual benefit to us, is a sad affair.  To lose a member of our tribe, a son or a daughter, to have them ripped away from their family and friends.  The tears and the good byes.  Heart wrenching, isn’t it?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but you answer anyway, “Yes Elder, very heart wrenching.”

“It is a blessing, however, when someone is selfless enough to volunteer, someone prepared to give themselves over instead of letting someone be ripped from us.”

It hits you, what he’s asking.  There’s no love lost between you and your tribe, but to have an Elder hint that you should just give yourself over cuts in a way you weren’t expecting.

“Little Mina will be in the Lottery this year, won’t she?” Elder Choi asks, and it’s a low blow.  She’s been sick for a few years and it’s been hard to obtain medicine for her, but she’s been so optimistic about everything and is the joy of the tribe, “It would kill her mother if she was chosen.”

“It would…” you whisper.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to bring the mood down.  I merely wanted to make sure you were ready for tomorrow.  Do you have your dress ready?” it’s a ruse and you know it.  He’s laid the seed and now he’s waiting for it to take root.

“Yes Elder, I’ve been working on it for weeks,” you tell him and he nods.

“Good.  Please, finish your tea, I don’t wish to keep you too late and have you tired for tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Elder.”

He says nothing more as you sip slowly at your tea, mulling it over.

You don’t like his manipulation; it’s abhorrent, really, to use your outcast status and the personal attack of Mina against you.  But really, what is there to keep you here?  There’s no happy ending for you, just a life of solitude, always on the outskirts.  What could the other side hold that would be worse than what you’re already facing?

You’ve made up your mind as you push your empty cup away.

“Good night, Y/N, I’m glad we had this talk,” he tells you earnestly, leaning forward as he stares into your eyes.

“Good night Elder, I will see you at the Lottery tomorrow,” you bow to him, before you take your leave.

-

It’s a somber atmosphere, you and the other participants standing in front of the stage, Elder Lee standing beside Alpha Kim behind the bowl with all the offerings’ names.  All of the participants are dressed in white, as symbolism of consenting to being an offering, blank and ready to leave everything behind.

You’re standing at the front, Seyoung on one side and Bongsoo on the other.  They both have their hands clasped in front of them, the tension evident in the rigidity of their muscles, but you’re standing loose.  You’ve already made your peace, you just have to wait for the right moment.

“Everyone,” Alpha Kim booms, “Thank you for gathering here today.  It has come time for need of another offering.  We have plenty of goods to provide for trade, to be delivered next week before the cold sets in.”

There’s no call back, as the crowd waits for the end.

“Let us not stall any longer.  Jeongguk, please, step forward and draw the name.”

The recipient this year is tall and toned, muscles shifting under his tunic as he steps up beside the alpha.  Judging by his aura, he too is an alpha, dark eyes sweeping across the crowd.  It must be your imagination, but you feel as if his gaze lingers on you for a moment longer.  There’s no mistaking the red bleeding into his eyes, overtaking the gold specks of his status.  He’s the closest you’ve ever seen turning feral and you’re surprised they’ve let him get this far.

Your heart kickstarts when you see him raise his arm and prepare to reach into the depths of the bowl and seal someone’s fate.  Before his fingers get the chance to grasp onto a slip of paper, you step forward.

“I volunteer,” you say softly, gasps rising up from the crowd behind you.

You can hear some of your tribe members burst into tears, some mutterings of thank the gods.  Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Elder Choi smiling smugly.

“Are you sure, child?” Alpha Kim asks gravely, “Are you ready to leave all this behind?  You will not be able to come home.”

You internally scoff.  Home.  This place hasn’t been home in years.

“I am sure, Alpha Kim.  I volunteer to be the offering this year,” you confirm, voice unwavering.

He examines you for a moment, before turning to Jeongguk.  Jeongguk takes a moment to take in your figure, head tilting as his eyes roam over you.  You stand tall and proud, looking him head on.  His mouth quirks when your eyes meet and he nods.

“What is your name?”

“Y/N, Alpha Kim.  My name is Y/N.”

“Y/N, we have accepted your volunteer as this Lottery’s offering.  Gather your things, we leave within the hour.”

You bow to them, surprised to receive a bow back, before you turn to the side and bow to the Elders.  You don’t say anything to anyone as you head back to your small hut to gather your meager things.

-

The Lottery started when a shifter pack approached tribes like yours, desperate beyond belief.  Their numbers were small and members of their pack were on the verge of turning feral, unable to sustain mates to keep them from turning.  They proposed a trading system: tribes would provide bodies for mates and in turn they would provide resources.  This would keep either of you from dying, letting the pack slowly grow their numbers and letting your tribe stockpile food.  The Lottery was considered the easiest and fairest way to pick who would be traded. The Lottery has been around for as long as you can remember.

The redness of Jeongguk’s eyes means the process has started; his canines are elongated even in human form and his nails are too long.  His hair is shaggier than others and his communication skills are lacking.

The other problem is that he apparently tends to stay in his shifted form, a big, black wolf that’s almost as tall as you and definitely bigger.  The first day of your return trip, Jeongguk walks ahead of you, tail swishing as he leads with Alpha Kim.  Alpha Kim had explained quietly that you might have a harder time mating with Jeongguk with how far along he already is, the feral part of him fighting to reject the bond in order to move forward with the transformation.

It’s not a comforting thought, because if you mate with Jeongguk and the bond is rejected, you’ll both die.

“Please be patient with him,” Alpha Kim asked of you, which seemed uncharacteristic for his alpha status, “I watched Jeongguk grow up, I can’t let him go feral.”

“Yes, Alpha Kim, I’ll do my best,” you had told him.

Now, you’re on your way to your new pack, your new home.  You’re still wearing your Lottery dress and you’re starting to sweat, unused to walking for so long, but you don’t say anything.  It’ll take a few days to reach their pack and you don’t want to already be a burden to them.

There’s only a few of you.  You, Jeongguk, Alpha Kim, and one guard introduced as Yoongi.  You can keep up for the most part, because Jeongguk and Yoongi are the only two that are shifted, so they keep it slow for Alpha Kim.

Eventually though, the fatigue catches up to you.  Your calf muscles are screaming, urging you to take a break and rest, and you think you can feel a blister on the back of your foot.  You don’t mean to lag behind, but it’s getting harder to breathe, your chest tight, as you focus on each next step and not just dropping to your knees.

A rumble breaks you out of your headspace and you glance to see Jeongguk standing in front of you.  His eyes scare you, blank as they stare at you, and you’re almost unable to see the gold amidst the red.  There’s a brief stare down between you, before he turns his back to you and hunches down slightly.

You’re surprised that he’s offering to carry you, but your screaming feet don’t let you look a gift horse in the mouth, so you tiredly straddle his back, anchoring your hands in his midnight black fur.  He doesn’t even seem to register your added weight, trotting to catch back up to the others.  Alpha Kim doesn’t say anything as you rejoin them, but he does give you a slight smile.

“Thank you,” you whisper quietly to Jeongguk, for his ears only.  They twitch in recognition, but that’s all you get.

Bedding down for the night is slightly awkward, the shifters trying to give you privacy as you roll out a sleeping pad and lay a thin blanket on it.  There’s a little of the fire left from dinner that they’re maintaining to keep you warm and you’re thankful, huddling down beside it.

The blister on the back of your foot needs tended to, the skin peeling and the blood dripping.  You hiss as you touch it, digging into your rucksack to see if you have any salve.  You keep your groan to yourself, frustratedly running your fingers through your hair before you go to stand.

“Where are you going?” a soft voice asks and when you turn, you’re surprised to see that it’s Jeongguk who asked you.

He had shifted back earlier, but this is the first time you think you’ve heard him speak, and the airiness of his voice doesn’t match the sharpness of his face.  It’s pleasant though, a soothing, melodic timber.

“I’m going to see if there’s some salve materials nearby, burdock root or chamomile or something,” you shrug, limping a little as you turn away, “I’m not running away, I’ll be right back.”

“I’m not worried about you running away, I’m worried about how dark it is and the wild animals around here,” his voice takes on a gruff quality as he snaps the words out, gaze heated, “I’m coming with you.”

Your bite your lower lip, feeling properly chastised.  You didn’t mean to cause offense and you duck your head as he nears.  Neither of the other shifters say anything, watching you two leave.

It’s quiet as the two of you walk, you using the waning light to search.  You want to apologize, but you don’t want to add insult to injury, and he doesn’t seem keen on saying anything either.

“Burdock?” he gestures to a flowering purple bush.

“Oh, yes!” you grin, hobbling over to it.  You hum as you gently dig into the ground, unearthing a few roots of the plant and tearing them apart gently.

“Chamomile doesn’t grow this far north, but there should be some symphytum around we can add,” Jeongguk tells you, standing behind you, seemingly on watch as he surveys the surrounding area.

You’ve never heard of that plant, but he seems to know what he’s talking about so you nod as you stand.  He reaches a hand out to steady you, your skin tingling under his fingers.

“Your dress,” he says suddenly and you just look at him, “You should have let me dig up the root, you got it dirty.”

You look down at yourself, seeing the dirt patches on your bare knees and the smudges on your dress.

“Eh, it’s just a dress, I can wash it.  I’ll let you pick the symp… symphytum when we find it though,” you grin at him and you’re rewarded with a half chuckle, “We should get back to it before we lose the light.”

Jeongguk raises an eyebrow as he taps underneath his eye, “I can see in the dark, remember?”

You bark out a sarcastic laugh, “Sorry, my puny human eyes are only so useful.”

“It’s okay, we’ll get through this together,” he grins as you and you give him a real laugh, before you nudge him along.

Jeongguk points out some other plants you never heard of before as you search for the symphytum and you take in all he has to offer.  You dabbled in medicine and gardening in your tribe and so you listen to everything Jeongguk tells you, especially considering the area you’re heading to is so much different than the area you grew up in.

“Ah, here we go, symphytum,” Jeongguk points it out and you nod, taking in the features of the plant, “we need the flowers and leaves.”

“Wow, how do you know so much about all this?” you ask, admiration clearly present, and you swear you see him blush a little.

“My grandma was our pack’s medic,” he tells you, gathering what you need to add to your burdock root.

“Was…?” you ask softly.

“She died last year,” he says, quite gruffly.  He doesn’t elaborate more than that and you don’t expect him to.

Your parents passed when you were young, and you don’t remember specific details of them, but you know the feeling of loss well, an emptiness inside that you can’t seem to alleviate.  There are memories you have that you know you’ll never get to recreate or commiserate, and you can empathize with Jeongguk on that, who must have been close to his grandmother if his knowledge is anything to judge it off of.

You don’t say anything, but you lay a hand gently on his arm, hoping you can convey your emotions to him.  Jeongguk looks at your hand on his arm before he looks up at you, eyes still guarded, but you don’t look away.  He studies you, able to see you much better in the dark than you’re able to see him despite your eyes adjusting, before he touches his hand to yours in return.

You smile softly at him as he shifts from touching your hand to holding it.  Neither of you say anything as you stay there for a moment, just existing together, before he softly clears his throat to break the moment.

“We need water to turn this into a paste, let’s head back to camp,” he says and you agree.

You let Jeongguk carry you back to get to camp quicker and you see Alpha Kim and Yoongi curled up in their shifted form, the fire still lit but small.  Alpha Kim raises his head as you two approach, giving you both a quick once over to check that neither of you are hurt.  Once satisfied, he turns his head the other way, and the two of you are left to your own devices.

“Here, mash them like this,” Jeongguk tells you softly, sitting beside you on your sleeping pad as he crushes the materials together between two rocks, “We’ll add just a bit of water at a time until we get something thick and not too watery.  It’ll stick best to your blister that way.”

You nod, watching him carefully as he makes the paste.

“Give me your foot,” he instructs and you scoot back to place it in his lap, “this shouldn’t hurt, but let me know if I press too hard.”

He’s careful as he spreads the paste lightly over your blister, face entirely concentrated as he takes care of you.

“It doesn’t look like we have to wrap it, but we’ll put some more on in the morning.  You should lay down now, though, it’s getting late, and we have to get up early in the morning.”

Before he moves, you grab his wrist to make him look at you, “Wait.  I… I wanted to apologize.”

He tilts his head in question, waiting for you to continue, and you frown as you let go of his wrist.

“I didn’t mean anything when I made that comment about not running away earlier,” you tell him, “That wasn’t a dig at you, or your pack.”

Jeongguk sighs as he removes your hand only to hold it, staring down at the way his hand engulfs yours, “It’s okay.  I can’t imagine how hard it must be for your tribe to give up someone every Lottery.  I know it’ll be difficult for us, having such a small time frame to prepare to be mated for the rest of our lives, but please know that I’m thankful for you.  I don’t know your reasons for volunteering, but I like to think that your willingness gives us more of a chance, with no prejudice and no fear.”

Jeongguk softly places your foot back on the ground, before he pushes himself up and away before you can say anything.  You can tell by the movement of his body that he’s about to shift.  It looks like such a weird and painful process, the bones shifting into place as he hunches over, fur sprouting from his skin as his face elongates and ears pop up.

You notice that Jeongguk always shakes his legs out when he shifts, and just him; neither Alpha Kim or Yoongi do it.  It must just be some quirk of Jeongguk’s and it makes you giggle around a throat still tight with emotion as he does it, making him turn towards you.

He growls lowly in his chest, something that sounds almost playful, before trotting over to you as you settle on your sleeping pad.  He nudges his face against you, still growling a little, and you giggle as you realize he’s trying to push you down to lay on your sleeping pad, snuffling over you as you settle down, pulling the thin blanket over you.

He sniffs at the ground near you, turning in a few circles before he decides to curl up behind you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body but not enough that it’s suffocating.  Combined with the heat of the fire, your body relaxes onto your pad despite the hardness of the ground and you fall asleep easily.

-

You wake up pleasantly warm, head pillowed on something soft.  You hum as you snuggle deeper into it, body rising and falling rhythmically, a soft rumbling in your ear thrumming through you pleasantly.  It’s almost enough to lull you back to sleep, before you realize you didn’t fall asleep with a pillow and what you’re laying on feels eerily alive.

When you crack your eyes open you see Jeongguk in his shifted form curled around you, your body wrapped up in his with your head resting on the side of his torso.  He’s awake, lazily watching you, and you notice that some of the red in his eyes is diminished.  They’re brown and gold this morning, shining brilliantly in the early morning light.  You realize he’d purposely been rumbling for you as it slows down, the sound dying out beneath your ear.  You can feel his tail twitching by your legs, as you’re completely swaddled in him, and you realize this is one of most comfortable moments of your life.

“Good morning,” you whisper to him, and he sighs as a response, curling around you tighter, “We should eat before we set out.”

You pick your head up to see Yoongi gone, probably to hunt for breakfast, and Alpha Kim in his human form rummaging around through their belongings to prepare for whatever he brings back.

You slowly extract yourself from Jeongguk, stretching sore muscles from walking, but you’re surprised to find that your back isn’t sore from sleeping on the ground.  You wonder how long you’d been laying on Jeongguk, knowing he’d chosen to curl up behind you when you went to sleep.  Judging by the way Jeongguk whines and huffs as you untangle yourself from him, you can tell he was as comfortable as you had been, trying to use his body weight to keep you pinned down.

After a light breakfast, the four of you set out.  Jeongguk makes you ride on his back for the rest of the day, despite your protest that your feet and blisters were fine.  He had growled at you, circling your form and rubbing up against you until Alpha Kim had approached you.

“We won’t reach the pack until tomorrow afternoon, it’ll be easier if the three of us can shift and Jeongguk carries you,” Alpha Kim had told you and you had acquiesced, mounting Jeongguk.

The second day passed much the same as the first had, and ends with the four of you bedding down for the night around a small camp.  Jeongguk is less shy about curling around you in his shifted form this time around, nudging your shoulder with his snout before unceremoniously plopping his head down in your lap.  You want to protest his closeness because you feel gross, still wearing your dirty Lottery dress, but you had been unwilling to hold them up for even a moment just for you to change, so you let him lay on you.

It had been worrying to you that Jeongguk had stayed shifted all day, but you can’t deny how comfortable he is when you’re trying to go to sleep, forgoing your blanket as you bury yourself in him.  You brush your hands through his fur, marveling at how soft it is and he starts to rumble under you.  You realize that he doesn’t do it for you but that its his way of letting you know that he’s comfortable.  His nose digs under your hand until it’s resting under your palm, urging you to move it.  You fall asleep petting him, thinking that volunteering no longer feels like a death sentence but more like… a new beginning.

You wake up to sunlight and rough jostling, with a gruff snuffling in your ear.  You’re disoriented for a few moments, head rolling against the ground as you try to gain your bearings.  You’re laying on your side facing away from the camp and there’s sweat dripping down your back because Jeongguk in his shifted form has you pressed right up against his underside, nose tight against the back of your ear as he growls deep in his chest.

It takes you a moment, but when you register the wetness and the growling, you realize what’s happening.  His lower half is thrusting up against you and his cock is between your legs, rubbing against your skin.  Your pulse quickens as you realize that Jeongguk must be having a wet dream or something similar as he growls in his sleep and licks at your skin, sending a jolt through your entire body.

You’re almost mortified to realize that the wetness you first thought was coming from him is actually from you, that you like what’s happening.  Even though he’s in his shifted form it’s still Jeongguk and there’s no denying that you find him attractive.  The fact that he’s rutting against you is doing things to you, his cock hot and heavy against you making your head spin.

You’re afraid to look down, to sear the image into your mind.  You know it’s not going to look like his human cock, but when you glance down, you can’t help the way you keen in the back of your throat.  He’s big, precum smearing against your stomach as he works his cock under your dress, pressing against your clit from the way he’s got you pinned.  With one of his legs over both of yours, and one of his front legs extended over your torso to press into the ground to give himself leverage, you would have to fight to get out of his hold.

But you don’t want to.  You can feel the heat between your legs, the arousal swirling in your stomach as his growling gets deeper and his tongue gets more insistent.  You can feel the press of his teeth against the sensitive skin of your neck and when his thrusts speed up, hitting your clit just a bit faster, you can’t help but moan lowly.  You hope Alpha Kim and Yoongi are out hunting so you don’t have to deal with the embarrassment of knowing they know.

You give a tentative thrust down and moan a little higher when Jeongguk’s cock rubs against your clit harder.  You clench around nothing, whimpering as you thrust down again, and again, until you’re working in tandem with him.  You can feel Jeongguk’s body shaking behind you, his low growling shifting to a higher pitched whine, nosing roughly at your ear before his nips turn purposeful.

You startle when it dawns on you that he’s finally woken up, the nip more than a dream instinct, but his thrusting doesn’t stop.  You gasp when he starts shifting behind you, helping you onto your knees and elbows as he stays crouched over you, body dwarfing yours as you rest your forehead against your sleeping pad.

You can’t believe this is happening but Jeongguk doesn’t give you time to think, his shifted cock giving your clit delicious friction as he stays mounted this way, thrusting with conscious purpose now.  He noses along the entire back of your neck, licking the shell of your ear and nipping at your shoulders.  Your back is so slick with sweat you can feel every press of Jeongguk’s belly against you, clenching with each thrust, wishing he’d stuff you with his cock.  It’d tear you in half but it’d be worth it to be so full, to be forced to take it, to test the limit.

You moan as you think about it, letting Jeongguk phantom fuck you and reaching a hand under your dress to touch the tip of his cock as he thrusts against your stomach.  Jeongguk lets out a half howl, thrusting up against the palm of your hand as the press against your clit becomes constant.

“Jeong-Jeongguk,” you hiccup, “S’too much, please, gonna cum.”

Jeongguk is shaking above you and you sob as the pleasure peaks, Jeongguk continuing to fuck up against you as you cum, clenching hard around nothing and whining in displeasure over it.  He noses eagerly at your neck, licking furiously at your skin as his thrusts grow erratic, close to his own orgasm.

You reach further down so you can brush feather light fingertips over the body of his cock.  His shifted cock is much different than a human cock, no mushroom head but thick at the base where his knot would be.  You groan as you think about it, the dirty mechanics of being knotted like this, out in the open in camp with your knees pressed to the ground and your dress pushed up to your breasts.  Your panties are useless at this point, sopping wet and glued to the ridges of your cunt.

You feel Jeongguk throw his head back and howl loudly as the first spurts of his cum shoot up to your tits, smearing against the skin of your stomach before it drips down onto the inside of your dress.  It’s disgusting, and filthy, and you’re horrified to learn that you love it, the feeling of being utterly dominated like this.

Jeongguk pants against your skin as he expends all that he has, his body sagging against yours but not forcing you down to the ground.  Your body is shaking as he steps back from you, his snout trailing down your back and to your crack, nosing at the thin fabric of your panties.  You can feel the puffs of his breath against your soaked skin and you slowly push yourself up, arms and legs shaking.

You’re breathing hard as Jeongguk walks around you, eyes brilliant as he stares at you.  His tongue flicks out to lick at your cheek and you breathlessly giggle, Jeongguk pressing his face against your chest to slowly guide you back, laying you against your sleeping pad.

You’re tired, the exhaustion settling in your bones as you glance up at the slightly blue tinted sky.  It has to still be early, but when you glance over, Alpha Kim and Yoongi are gone, which you are immensely thankful for.

However, Jeongguk doesn’t give you time to rest.  He sniffs earnestly at your neck, rubbing his face and tongue against you as he works his way down.  Your dress feels disgusting from where the cum covered front is pressed to your skin, but Jeongguk just brushes it up over your breasts, licking at one nipple and then the next before he continues down.  He cleans your stomach of himself, nose warm and tongue warmer, and you’re not ashamed at the way arousal has started to pool in your stomach again.

Jeongguk must be able to smell it, tongue pressing more eagerly the closer he gets to your cunt.  He nudges your thighs apart with his snout, growling appreciatively when they spread and your smell hits him full force.  He bites at your panties, pulling the thin fabric away and down your legs, tossing them in a random direction over his shoulder before the point of his tongue flicks against your clit.

You don’t bother to stifle your moan, the feeling of his tongue rough in texture as it presses harder with every lick, cleaning you of your dripping arousal with valiant effort.  You cry out when his tongue presses inside you, licking at your walls deeper than most cocks have ever reached. You can’t stop the little sounds you make, the humping of your hips against Jeongguk’s face as the pleasure builds.

If he tongues this good you can’t imagine the damage he can do with his cock, spearing you open effortlessly and making you cum multiple times.  You clamp down around his tongue as you think about it, wishing he would just fuck you, shifted or not, cumming to the thought of it.

Jeongguk snuffles happily against you, licking your cunt clean of your cum and your thighs free of sweat.  When you gain the energy to lift your head, Jeongguk is hunched over you, licking his jowls with his tail wagging.  His tail wagging.  It’s so ridiculous you can’t help but laugh, letting your head thunk back against the ground as you hear the telltale sound of his bones shifting.

After a few moments of silence, gentle hands lead your legs closed, running up your sides to grab your dress and pull it up and off, hitting the ground with a wet smack.

“C’mon, there’s a little stream near here, let’s get you cleaned up,” his voice is laced with sex and you shiver, letting him pull you up and onto shaky legs, opting to just carry you when you end up swaying.

It’s not awkward to be naked in front of him, rubbing cold, clean water against your skin.  Jeongguk watches you for a few minutes, appreciating the dip of your fingers between your thighs as you clean yourself of spit and arousal and your cum.  He finally strips himself and you can’t help but stare.  Even in human form he’s big, cock hanging half hard and heavy between his legs, thigh and abdominal muscles toned and flexing as he perches himself on a jutting rock to wash himself.

Your mouth is watering and you don’t even care; you can feel the weight of cock on your tongue and you specifically want his in your mouth right now, dragging your tongue down the protruding vein and around the bulbous head.

“We’ll never get back to the camp if you keep staring,” Jeongguk smirks over at you, brushing his hands down his thighs in an obviously teasing manner.

“I want to suck you off,” you confess easily, squeezing your thighs together when you see Jeongguk’s gaze darken and his cock jump.

“Later,” he promises, and you’re practically drooling when he fists his cock, hand tightening on an upward stroke, “we really do need to be going.”

“Then quick jerking off,” you whine petulantly, and Jeongguk has the audacity to laugh at you.

Jeongguk gives you his tunic to wear back to camp as a makeshift dress, keeping a small bit of distance from you, which is much too far considering he had almost fucked you into the ground earlier.  This must be his way of attempting to be respectful, or at least you hope so; just the thought of Jeongguk regretting any of it or being ashamed makes your stomach clench painfully.

Alpha Kim and Yoongi are packing up camp when you arrive.  They give the both of you a knowing look and you blush as you duck your head, realizing they must be able to smell what you two had done.

“Come,” Yoongi smirks, the word intentional, “if we leave now we’ll get home before lunch.”

Home.  It sounds pleasant and right coming from Yoongi.  You’re going home, not just to their pack, but your pack now.

-

There’s a small welcoming ceremony when the four of you finally arrive and you’re overwhelmed by the positivity of the pack.  Their numbers have grown, but it’s not the size of some other shifter packs you’ve seen.

Jeongguk keeps close to you as elder pack members pull you into a hug, welcoming you to your new home and encouraging you to ask for help when you need it.  Shifted pups sniff at you, particularly your stomach which makes you blanch, before yipping and wagging their tails happily at you.

“This is Y/N,” Alpha Kim booms to the crowd, “Y/N selflessly volunteered herself to be Jeongguk’s mate to prevent us from losing him to his feral side.”

The little pack cheers and you blush at their enthusiasm.

“Let us let these future mates have time for themselves,” Alpha Kim turns to you and smiles, “Please, rest.  The journey was long and I’m sure you’re… tired.”

You try not to react, knowing that he’s not talking about the walking.

“I’ll show you to our cabin,” Jeongguk tells you softly, placing a hand on your lower back to lead you away, “Thank you everyone.  We’re happy to be home.”

You smile and wave at everyone as you walk away, Jeongguk leading you towards the center of their pack territory.  It’s a foreign feeling to you, so used to staying out of your tribe that you don’t know what to do knowing you’re going to be living in the thick of it.

“These cabins look so nice,” you comment, looking at the smattering of cabins around you.

“Alphas build cabins before they take a mate,” Jeongguk explains, “Outside of me, none of our alphas are of age yet, so no one is preparing to build.”

“Woah, you built this?  That’s impressive,” you exclaim, as he reaches for the door.

He stops with his hand on the handle, seemingly frozen, before he turns hurriedly to you, “Um… actually, could you stay out here for a moment?”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused, but nod.  Jeongguk gives you a quick, thankful smile, slipping in through the slightest crack so you can’t see inside.

You feel a little foolish standing outside Jeongguk’s cabin - well, your cabin now, as well.  You can hear frantic clattering inside and Jeongguk’s light footsteps as he runs around.  You hear the terrible screech of a window opening, and when you bend around the corner of the cabin you can see what looks like trash being thrown out of it.  It startles a laugh out of you, realizing Jeongguk is cleaning for you, and it’s so endearing.

You wait patiently, knowing Jeongguk wants to make a good impression on you.  Finally, the door creaks open, before Jeongguk pushes it open wide and steps aside.

“Please, come in,” he says, slightly out of breath, and you giggle at him.

“I could have helped you clean,” you tell him, stepping past him and he ducks his head after being caught.

It’s modest, and homey.  There’s a little kitchenette to use when you don’t want to go to the main dining hall, a small sitting area, and a hallway that leads to a small bathroom and bedroom.  There’s a pack bathhouse that they utilize, so the bathroom has a toilet and small wash tub for a quick rub down, and the bedroom is just a pile of furs.

“I know it’s not much but-” Jeongguk seems embarrassed, scratching behind his ear as he avoids your gaze.

“I love it,” you tell him honestly, “it’s very comfortable, very… you.  And I like you.”

The blush that spreads across Jeongguk’s face is satisfying and you grin at him.  You were worried you and Jeongguk were going to have an awkward period of forcing yourselves to get to know each other, but it’s been pretty natural.  There might have been some truth to Jeongguk’s words that you volunteering made it easier for you two to connect, as there’s no expectations for either of you.

“I know Alpha Kim said we have time for ourselves, but there are pack duties I need to get caught up on,” Jeongguk tells you, almost sounding regretful that he has to leave.

“That’s okay, I understand,” you tell him, and you truthfully do, but there’s a small pit of nervousness at the thought of being by yourself as you’re still unsure of the inner workings of the pack, “but um, am I… allowed to be out by myself?”

Jeongguk gives you a strange look, placing his hands on your shoulders and smoothing them down your arms, “You’re part of the pack now and my future mate.  You don’t have to walk on eggshells around us, gods know no one out there will.  Please familiarize yourself with the pack, it’s home now.”

You nod, feeling ashamed about your question, but unable to articulate to Jeongguk how out of place you felt when you were in the midst of your tribe.  Jeongguk hesitates for a moment, swaying back and forth, before apparently coming to his decision and leaning down to press his lips to your forehead.

With a horrifying sense of clarity, you realize you let Jeongguk go down on you before you’ve even properly kissed.  But then again, you two don’t have an exactly conventional relationship.

“I shouldn’t take too long,” he whispers against your skin, seemingly unwilling to go.

“Okay,” you whisper back, smiling when he kisses your forehead again.

As they say, parting is such sweet sorrow.

-

You take the time to introduce yourself to the surrounding cabins, receiving delighted responses.  You feel bad, because there are so many names thrown at you in a short time frame that you don’t remember most of them.  You met Alpha Kim’s son, Namjoon, and two people claiming to be Jeongguk’s best friends, Jimin and Taehyung.  There’s the old lady just a cabin down from yours, who winks rather lasciviously at you when she tells you that the wood the cabins are made with are thick and block sound.  There’s a human girl around your age named Jihyo on the other side of your cabin who is super sweet and invites you in for tea, which you postpone to another afternoon.

You meet another girl on the way back to your cabin, because you are actually really tired, who introduces herself icily as Ina.  Despite her attitude, you bow politely at her.

“So, you’re Jeongguk’s mate,” she says kind of tersely, after having sniffed at the air around you with a look of disdain.

You’re familiar with this kind of attitude, which is very reminiscent of your tribe, so you continue to be polite to her.

“I am!  I’m Y/N,” you introduce yourself, “It’s nice to meet you Ina.”

“I heard Alpha Kim say you volunteered.  I’ve never heard of someone volunteering,” she continues.

“I remember it happening once when I was a kid, but back then-”

“Did you only volunteer because you think he’s hot?” she interjects over you.

Your mouth clicks shut, unsure of how to answer her.  You’re afraid if you say no, she’ll wheedle her way into the depths of your soul and pull your tragic reasoning out.  But you can’t say yes, because not only is it not true, but you’re afraid that she’ll spread an ugly rumor around that you’re shallow.

It’s a conundrum you’re not sure how to approach, but thankfully your saving grace is a smiling older woman placing her hand on your shoulder and deflecting Ina’s question.

“Ina, what’s with the inquisition?  Y/N dear has had a long journey, we have plenty of time to get to know her as a person, and as a mate for Jeongguk.”

Ina looks embarrassed at her interruption and bows to the older woman, with a small sorry before she scurries off.

“I’m sorry, you didn’t have to get involved-” you start but she waves your apology off.

“Don’t worry about it.  And don’t worry about Ina, she’s just feeling slighted right now.  Is it okay if I take up some of your time?  I’d love to have a cup of tea and get to know you,” she smiles so prettily at you, eerily familiar, and you find yourself nodding before you remember you were going to take a nap.  Too late now.

“Would you like to come back to Jeongguk’s cabin?  Well, mine too I guess.  Um, our cabin-” you stumble over yourself, out of your depth as she laughs.  Not at you, but at the obvious confusion you’re having trying to fit yourself into the pack.

“Sure deary, let’s go,” she links her arm with yours, turning you to your cabin.

You spend a pleasant hour with her, apologizing at first for not knowing where Jeongguk keeps his stuff but easily locating a kettle and some tea.  She introduces herself as Minseo and gives you a brief history of the pack, and some of the members, before she conspiratorially asks if you want to hear stories of Jeongguk from when he was a child and you quickly agree.

That’s how Jeongguk finds you, kneeling at the little table with Minseo, tears in your eyes as she recounts a story of a buck naked teenage Jeongguk jumping into a lake on a dare and not evening completing it.  He looks shocked to see you and Minseo giggling against each other, tea refilled and steaming, before it transforms into a serene look.

“Hi mom,” he greets Minseo and you abruptly stop giggling, turning to the woman beside you with wide eyes and a hanging mouth.

She grins sneakily around the rim of her mug, “Ah, baby, you ruined my fun, I hadn’t told her I was your mother yet.”

He rolls his eyes but is still smiling as he leans down to kiss the top of her head, snickering to himself when he sees how shocked you still are as he kisses your cheek.

“Are you staying for dinner?  We’ll be eating here tonight, Omega Kim is bringing us bear as a treat.”

“Omega Kim has always been so sweet on you, you’d think she was your mother and not me,” Minseo pouts and Jeongguk coos.

“Maybe if you were nicer to me,” he singsongs, not even trying to avoid the slap she aims at his shoulder.

“Yah, do you know how long I was in labor with you?” Minseo complains but she’s smiling, looking so incredibly happy as she gazes at him.

“I’m sure you’ll remind me.”

“A whole day, Guk, an entire day of pain and agony and spreading my legs so your grandmother could check just to tell me you were being stubborn and weren’t coming out despite being stretched by a watermelon.”

Jeongguk groans, “Do you have to be so graphic about it?”

“It’s not like it’s something you won’t go through,” she teases and the implication brings a blush to your cheeks.

You and Jeongguk?  Kids?  You’ve barely though past your mating ceremony, but you suspect it’s a normal thing for mother-in-laws to be worried about.

“Besides, with the way our little Y/N smells, it doesn’t seem like you’re all that shy about it,” she says knowingly and you choke on your tea.

“Mom!” Jeongguk groans, avoiding looking at you as he scratches behind his ear, “Please.”

Minseo grins to herself, downing the last of her tea as she stands on creaky knees.  Jeongguk helps her to her feet, you pushing yourself up to follow them to the door.

“I’ll let you two have your time.  Please dear, don’t be a stranger, I love visitors,” she tells you sincerely and despite your mortification that she can somehow smell what you and Jeongguk had been up to, you wholeheartedly agree, “And Jeongguk, eat some more, your cheeks are getting thin.”

“Yes mom,” he tells her dutifully, kissing her cheek before she hugs you goodbye.

You wave at her, watching her bustle down the path, before Jeongguk shuts the door.

“Can everyone smell your cum on me or something?” you ask and Jeongguk bursts out laughing, though you can see a bit of embarrassment lingering on his face.

“Well, kind of, but it’s mainly just me.  You probably can’t smell it because you don’t have the sense for it but each of us have our own, uh, scent.  So earlier when we… ahem,” Jeongguk clears his throat, seemingly unwilling to explicitly mention it and you grin at that, “a lot of my scent would have transferred over to you.  That’s what everyone is referring to.  They’re probably surprised because scenting is kind of an intimate thing and we’ve only just met.”

“Oh,” you hum, “so I smell like you.  That means everyone knows whose mate I am, that I belong to you.”

Jeongguk makes a strangled sound and clears his throat again, “Yes, that you- yes.”

The two of you stand by the door, just staring at each other, before Jeongguk moves away to head to the kitchen.   There aren’t many dishes to do, but Jeongguk does them anyway, and you think he’s doing them just to have something to do.  You decide to help him, sliding silently up beside him and taking a dripping dish from him quietly.

It’s quiet between you two as you work together, Jeongguk washing and you drying them before putting them away.  Finally you ask a question, addressing the difference between you.

“Does it bother you?  That I’m not shifter, so I have no way of scenting you back?” you ask softly.

Jeongguk takes a moment to answer, scrubbing at a spot in the sink that looks stained and unable to come out.

“No,” he finally says, “my mate doesn’t have to be similar to me in order to be a good match for me.  I don’t need someone who has good eyes or good sense of smell,” here’s teasing you here, judging by the tongue he sticks out at you, “or a certain status for me to want to spend my life with them.  I just want someone I’m comfortable with and who makes me happy.”

The answer settles something pleasant in your stomach and you smile shyly at him.

“But…” he hesitates for a moment, “I do want to apologize.”

“For what?” you ask, putting the towel you were drying with back on a rack.

“This morning,” he says softly, “I hope I didn’t… force myself on you or make you feel uncomfortable.  I mean, I enjoyed it, and judging by the sounds you were making you did too, but I never verbally checked with you and that was wrong of me.”

You bump your shoulder against his, before leaning against him, “Jeongguk, it’s okay.  You didn’t force me.  Caught me by surprise, sure, but… it was good.  You were good,” you’re blushing, hiding your face against his tunic sleeve, but you don’t care, “I liked it and I wasn’t exactly quiet about wanting to do more after, was I?  We have a week before our mating ceremony, so maybe we can just… explore until then?”

Alpha Kim had explained that it’s a big tradition within the pack, a little ceremony held in front of the pack, with food and dancing.  Then, you head off to the outskirts of the pack clearing where there’s a mating clearing, an area blessed by the Moon Goddess.  You and Jeongguk aren’t allowed to have penetrative sex until then, a tradition long held in their pack that the first “real” copulation has to be blessed by Her for a good life together.  At least Jeongguk’s already semi fucked you outside, so it won’t feel so foreign actually getting mounted in the open like that.  Besides, it’s not like you can’t do other things.

“You can’t say things like that with a straight face,” Jeongguk groans, “You have no idea how hard it was for me to tell you not to suck me off this morning.”

You laugh, Jeongguk turning you to gently pull you into his arms, “You have no idea how hard it was for me to not just drop to my knees and do it anyway.”

Jeongguk growls and you shiver, Jeongguk holding you close to his chest as he presses a loud kiss behind your ear.  He moves to pepper kisses down your neck, nipping at your pulse point while you scrabble to hold onto his back.

“Jeongguk,” you breathe, “kiss me, please.”

He wastes no time pulling back to press his mouth to yours, swallowing the whine you let out as he pushes you tightly against the counter.  You’re ignoring his semi for the moment, pressed deliciously right up against you, to enjoy the feeling of his mouth practically devouring you.  His tongue feels as good in your mouth as it did in your cunt, brushing against your own and against the back of your teeth hotly.

Jeongguk’s hands can’t decide if they want to grab at your ass, your waist, or your thighs, kneading whatever skin they come in contact with.  At some point they’re in your hair, tugging you away from his mouth with force so he can kiss down the front of your throat to your collarbones, biting and sucking bruises into your tender skin.  All you can do is take it as he forces his hips upward, groaning as he nestles his covered cock right between your pussy lips.  You’re still wearing his tunic as a dress, so you can feel him in his entirety and god is he big.

“You’re gonna drive me crazy,” he growls, your skin stinging from the bite he just left that he soothes with his tongue, “I can smell how wet you are already.  Just wanna go down on you until you cry, finger you until you’ve came so many times you lose count.”

“Jeongguk,” you sob, overwhelmed with how bad you want him, “touch me, please.”

“Come on,” he lets go of your hair to pull you up on his hips by your thighs, “so many things I want to do to you.  You stepped up to that stage with no fear and clear determination, looked me right in the eyes like I can’t bring you to your knees.  Wanted to bend you over and fuck you right then, show your whole tribe the sweet pussy they’d be missing. Fuck, Y/N.”

There are actual tears in your eyes as Jeongguk stomps his way to the bedroom, softly laying you in your pile of furs.  He towers over you on his knees, eyes roving over you as he takes in your flushed face and heaving chest, smirking at the way your thighs rub together.

“Pull your tunic up,” he instructs and your hands quickly fall to grip the hem, “slowly.”

You swallow thickly, taking a few deep breaths as Jeongguk places his hands just below your knees, eyes falling to watch the way your fingers shake.  You pull it up slowly, eyelashes fluttering as you savor the drag of the fabric against your sensitive skin.  Jeongguk hums, fingers creeping up your legs the farther you pull the tunic up, licking his lips when he sees your panties and the wet spot they’re sporting.

You pause when you reach your navel, letting your fingertips trail against your skin as the goosebumps erupt.

“So pretty, baby,” Jeongguk breathes, the furs shifting under his knees as he leans over you more, abs quivering from exertion, “What a show, keep going.”

You whimper a little, placing your hands flat against your stomach as you continue to push the tunic up, feeling yourself up.  Your hands slide up your sides causing you to shy away from the ticklish touch and your fingers brush just under your breasts.  You jolt at the feeling of Jeongguk’s tongue against your stomach, hands flying down to grip at his hair.

“Did I say you could stop?” he growls, biting softly at your skin, tongue hot and wet, “Show me those tits, baby.”

“Jeongguk,” you moan, arching your back as you push the tunic up higher, your exposed nipples immediately hardening in the cold air, “feels good.”

“Take it off,” he commands and you listen, struggling to pull the tunic over your head while laying down since he won’t move back to let you sit up.

“Touch them,” he orders and you pinch your nipples softly, moaning louder, “Mmm, harder.”

You listen to him, pinching harder as he travels up your torso, leaving little lovebites in his wake.

“‘M gonna fuck these pretty tits one day,” he tells you, licking the valley between your breasts, before he bites rather harshly at your right breast, his hand swamping your own on your left breast.

He massages the left as he wraps his mouth around the right, sucking harshly and biting at your sensitive skin.

“Guk,” you sob, one hand trapped under his and the other gripping onto his bicep, “your mouth, I- fuck!”

Jeongguk grins, nipple tight between his teeth as he tugs, letting it go with a wet smack, “Touch your pussy baby, just a little.  Show me how wet you are for me.”

You’re soaked.  Without even touching yourself you can feel the way your panties cling to your skin.  Is it always going to be like this with Jeongguk?  You sure fucking hope so.

Jeongguk lets go of your breast to plant his hand into the furs beside your head, giving himself leverage as he switches from kissing your chest to marking your neck.  You squirm as his body heat settles over you, so close to touching you but so far away.  His chest brushes against yours, your nipples rubbing against his sweaty skin as his hair brushes against your cheek.  You whine into his ear as you massage the junction of your thighs, canting your hips up to try and brush against the front of him.

“Just a little,” he reminds, voice raspy against the shell of your ear, biting gently on your earlobe, “Touch yourself through your panties first, tell me how wet you are.”

You breathlessly follow his instructions, letting your fingers wander from the apex of your thighs to the top of your mound.  Your heart is beating erratically as you massage it slowly, so close to your wetness but teasing yourself just a little more.  Jeongguk has the perfect vantage part from your neck to watch your hands work, chest rumbling with the first touch of your fingertips against your clit, acting like he feels it just as acutely as you do.

“Oh,” you breathe out, Jeongguk’s teeth sinking in behind your ear.

“Tell me,” he growls, “Tell me how you feel.”

“So wet,” you immediately concede, brushing your fingers down to rub against your entrance where your wettest, “I want you so bad Jeongguk, I’m aching for you.”

Your pussy makes an audible sound as you rub your fingers against the fabric of your panties.

“Pull them down, just a bit,” his voice is rough as he pants, eyes trained on your fingers as he loses sight of them exploring between your lips, “Wanna smell you.”

You shimmy them down slowly, body wiggling under Jeongguk’s as you get them down just far enough for you to work with.  Jeongguk’s groan is low as your smell hits him and he licks a stripe up your neck.

“Put a finger in.”

You don’t disobey him, breaching your walls with just one like you’ve been told.  You’re so wet you can barely feel it and you whine in dissatisfaction.

“One not enough for your greedy pussy?” he sneers, raising himself onto his haunches to get a better look at what you’ve put on display, “Two, then, but only two.”

You work a second one in and the stretch is nice, but nowhere near filling.  Jeongguk watches the push and pull of your fingers, crossing his arms over his chest as he casually observes you.  It’s so apathetic you cry out, willing him to do something, but he doesn’t.  He lets you finger yourself for a few minutes, watching your drip onto the pile of furs beneath you as he breathes steadily.  The only real way you can tell he’s affected is by the way his nostrils are flaring and how dilated his pupils are.

“Feel good?” he finally asks.

“You’d feel better,” is your instant answer and he seems pleased, giving you a smug smirk as he shrugs his top off, “Could touch me so much better, your fingers are-are thicker and longer and-”

Jeongguk leans down to press a kiss to the center of your sternum, hands raising to grip your hips tight.

“Fuck, baby, you smell fantastic,” he groans, tongue slithering out as he trails down, biting and sucking as he goes, “Tasted so good on my tongue, can’t wait to eat you out again.”

“Please,” you beg, you whimper, you plead, “please touch me, Guk.”

“Okay, baby, since you’ve asked so nicely,” his hands slide down your hips and around your thighs, settling his shoulders between your legs.  You keen at the stretch, cool air brushing against your wet pussy as Jeongguk takes a moment to watch your fingers at eye level.

“Show me how wet you are,” his voice has dropped, tone low and rough and you exhale hard through your nose as you do as he asks, scissoring your fingers as you pull them out so he can see how thoroughly coated they are, “Fuck yeah…”

Despite the gruffness of his voice, his hands are gentle as he takes your wrist in his hands and presses them into the bed.  Jeongguk is so utterly focused on your pussy, using his thumbs to spread your lips apart as he takes in a deep breath.  It’s a little embarrassing for you, but the unrestrained moan he lets out overpowers anything your feeling as you squirm in his hold.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he mutters to himself you think, before he all but attacks your pussy with his tongue.

“Guk!”

He’s vicious, tongue laving from top to bottom as he eats you out, basically swallowing you whole.  You’ve stretched yourself enough from your two fingers that his slip in easily, and he’s quick to push it to three, working them in tandem with his tongue.

You’re practically vibrating beneath Jeongguk, physically unable to keep your mouth closed as you let him know just how good it feels.  You’re so worked up you can feel your orgasm approaching fast, your thighs beginning to shake the closer it gets.

“Oh, cumming, I’m-” you try to speak but you feel like you’re about to swallow your tongue.

Just as you feel like you’re about to tumble over the precipice, just when you can taste it in your mouth, Jeongguk rips himself away from you and your orgasm comes to a screeching halt.

“No, nonono,” you cry, frustration tears budding in the corner of your eyes as you reach out to a panting Jeongguk, “Why did you-!”

“Shh, it’s okay baby, just relax,” he coos, leaning down to press kisses into your thighs as he brushes his hands lovingly up your sides, “calm down for me, yeah?”

You pout down at him, wiping at your eyes as you huff.

“Just trust me, okay?” he smiles cutely at you, like that makes it feel better, as he softly buries his tongue back into you.

You want to be mad because you were so close, but his tongue calms you down and you sink back into the feeling.  Jeongguk seems eager to get back at it and you sigh as the feeling builds back up.  He alternates between sticking his tongue in you and thumbing your clit and dredging his fingers against your walls as he sucks on your clit like a man starved.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel the beginnings of your orgasm approaching and you decide to keep it to yourself.  But Jeongguk must pick up on the tells of your breath quickening and your hands becoming restless because just as you’re about to tip over the edge again Jeongguk pulls away with a wet smack.

“No!” your hands fly up to cover your face because you’re actually crying this time, tears of frustration slipping down your temples into your hairline.

“Pretty girl,” Jeongguk kisses his way up your body, nosing at your ear as he smooths a hand through your hair, “Take a deep breath for me.”

You sniffle into his shoulder, smacking his bicep weakly as you cling onto him, “Why are you being such a dick?  I just wanna cum.”

“I know you do,” he kisses the tip of your nose, before pressing a smothering kiss to your mouth, “And you will, it’ll feel good, I promise.”

“How am I supposed to know if you keep stopping!” you complain and he laughs into your skin as he settles between your legs again.

Jeongguk presses apologetic kisses to your pussy, humming as he slips his tongue up and around your clit as he eases his fingers back in.

“Sorry baby, forgive me?” he grins devilishly at you and you can’t answer, eyes already starting to roll from how deprived you feel.

“Please no more teasing,” you whimper, threading shaky fingers through Jeongguk’s hair, “I don’t think I can take any more.”

“Okay pretty,” he acquices, and you can see the physical change in him, the way his tongue turns pointed and the way his fingers stiffen inside you, “I’ll let you cum.”

You almost wish you had let him do as he pleased, because he works you up to a quick orgasm and tongues you through it, wrapping a hand around your waist to hold you to the bed as you squirm and twitch and gasp your way through it until you’re finished but he… doesn’t stop.

“G-Guk, that’s-” too much, but the words die in your throat as he merely buries his face farther in your pussy, fingers taken to stroking the upper bounds of your walls to keep them lodged up to his knuckles.

“You wanted to cum,” he tells you darkly, mouthful of pussy, “So cum.”

“I did,” you squawk, futilely trying to close your legs around his head, but he easily holds them open, “I c-can’t!  Not again!”

“You will,” he tells you simply before he dives back in.

And you do.  Two more times, the feeling not as all encompassing but just as intense, leaving you slack jawed and with an aching back from how you arch and shy away from his touch.  Your body melts into the furs when his fingers finally retract from inside you, tongue leaving your clit numb and sore.

“Such a good girl, make so many pretty sounds for me,” Jeongguk murmurs, massaging your hips as he lays beside you, “Did so well for me, baby.  Gimme a kiss.”

Your mouth barely works but you kiss him, Jeongguk leaning his torso over yours to make it easier on you.

“You’re still hard,” you note, glancing down to see the bulge in his pants, hidden away from you for too long.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” he tells you but you whine.

“Wanna suck you off, been thinking about it all day,” you admit and he makes a low sound in the back of his throat.

“Yeah?  Wanna suck your alpha off?  Wanna make me feel good?” he asks, voice low and soothing as you push yourself down his body, bringing his pants with you.

You groan at the feel of him, cock sticky with your arousal.  You don’t care about that, and don’t hesitate to suck on his head, hand moving down to play with his balls and twist at the base where you know a knot is waiting for you.  You want it in you so bad you whine around his cock, pushing down so you can suck on more of him, tucking your teeth behind your lips so you didn’t nick him.

Jeongguk groans above you, hands carding through your hair to hold it back, watching your mouth work him over enthusiastically, spit dribbling from the corner of your mouth.

“Ah, baby, just like that,” he moans, giving a tentative thrust of his hips that you gag around, “So eager.”

Jeongguk is big, and most of his cock doesn’t fit in your mouth, so you happily suck what you can and fist the rest of him.  He feels as good in your mouth as you expected him to, heavy against your tongue and the taste heady.  You pull off to breathe, jaw aching from the girth of Jeongguk’s cock, and he coos as you gasp for air.

“So good baby, so close, just a little more, yeah?  Gonna cum down that throat of yours, gonna feel so good, mmm,” he moans as you swallow him back down, fighting through your need to gag to hold your mouth around him and just suck, twisting your hands around the rest of him, “Y/N.”

You whine as Jeongguk reaches down to hold your head steady, before catching on that he wants to fuck your mouth.  You moan around him, making sure to keep your teeth hidden as you tongue at the head each time he thrusts in.

“Ah, yes, yes, gonna cum,” Jeongguk growls, leaning up on an elbow to watch your face intently as you glance up at him, “Hnng!”

There’s so much cum and you try to swallow as much as you can, but you have to pull off to breathe and a few splatters land on your cheek and jaw.  You continue to jerk him through it and Jeongguk hisses through his teeth at the sensitivity, baring his neck as he lets you work his cock roughly before he unceremoniously pulls you up to him to shove his tongue in your mouth.

You laugh breathlessly as you fall against him, trying to keep up.

“You’re insatiable,” you condemn and he grins against the column of your throat.

“You just make me feel so good, sound so pretty for me,” he tells you, “Want to fuck you so bad.”

You can’t help the way you clench your legs together and Jeongguk can feel the muscle movement from where you’re settled on his lap, calming down together.

“Soon,” he promises, running his hands up your back as you relax against him, heart beat slowly returning to normal, “Let’s just enjoy yourselves, like you said.” 

-

You’re humming to yourself as you help prepare meat in the dining hall.  Some of the pack members had gone on a hunt the day before and the second run had gone out this morning.  They were trying to stock up on their own food, as well as add to the supplies they were going to trade to your tribe for the Lottery.  Well, your old tribe.

Jeongguk had gone out on the second run and he had been excited this morning.  Jeongguk told you he liked hunting more for the physical aspect than the actual hunting part, though he did disclose that one of his favorite memories was taking down an elk all by himself.  He promised to find a rabbit, which was meat you really liked, so you two could have dinner in your cabin and you found the gesture incredibly sweet.

However, when Minseo rushes into the preparation room, eyes wide and chest heaving, your heart drops into your stomach.  The chatter from the other pack members dies down quickly, as you all zero in on the absolute panic on Minseo’s face.

“Minseo what’s-”

“It’s Jeongguk,” she whispers, reaching a shaky hand to you, “Jeongguk’s hurt, we have to go.”

You hear the words, can see Jeongguk bleeding in your mind’s eye, but you can’t make your feet move.  Jeongguk’s hurt.  Your future mate is hurt and all you can think is the worst, hand tightening around the knife in your hand.

“Y/N, dear, it’s okay,” Minseo gently takes the knife from you, laying it on the table as your breathing shortens, “C’mon, he’s in the healing hut, let’s go see him.”

Minseo holds you close to her as the two of you sprint over to the healing hut.  The closer you get the louder it becomes and you two see the rest of the second run standing around outside, debriefing Alpha Kim.  Some of them are already bandaged up, favoring legs and holding limp arms to their chests.  You can only hope Jeongguk made it out with as minor injuries.

Alpha Kim notices you and Minseo drawing closer and beckons you into the hut, “He’s okay, he’s inside.  He’s asked for you, go see him.”

You quickly nod at him, bounding up the stairs and holding your breath as you push the door open.

The first thing you notice is how disheveled Jeongguk’s hair is, face dirty and gaunt and a small frown marring his face.  The second thing you notice is the bandage wrapped around the entirety of his left arm, stained red in some spots.  The third and last thing you notice is Ina curled up in Jeongguk’s lap, sobbing.

They haven’t noticed you and Minseo yet, the door opening too soft to be heard over the sound of Ina’s crying.  You go to take a step forward and announce your presence, but Minseo places a firm hand on your shoulder and shakes her head, motioning for you to be quiet.  You want to protest, to let them know you’re here, but realize Ina is talking as she cries.

“Why did you have to choose her?” she asks, hands clutching at Jeongguk’s pants, face hidden, “Why did you have to step out of the pack?”

Jeongguk sighs softly, a light hand placed on the back of her head as he tries to console her, “Ina, we talked about this…”

“No, you talked about it,” she vehemently denies, “You decided we weren’t a match and you decided to end it.  I wanted to work through it and stay together.”

Together?  You should have known from the way Ina had approached you and the way she talked to you that there had been something between them.

“I could have made you so happy,” she whispers, pulling away to look up at him.  Your heart breaks for her.

“Ina, I wouldn’t have been happy if I had stayed,” he breaks it to her in a gentle voice.

“You never even gave us a chance!” she rips herself away from him, standing up and turning so quickly that you barely have a chance to prepare for when your eyes meet

Ina’s nostrils flare dangerously but you meet her stare head on.  Jeongguk stands up behind her, ready to step in, but you shake your head at him.  You and her were going to have to talk it out one day, better now when everyone can bare witness.

“You’ll never take away the fact that I was his first,” she declares and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at her childish attack.  You wanted to be civil, seeing as how you’re in the same pack now, but she’s made it clear she has no intentions of ever treating you as an equal.

“Well, we all make mistakes,” you shrug.  You can’t deny the little trill of fear that runs down your spine when her eyes narrow and her hands clench.

“You bitch-”

“Ina,” Jeongguk growls behind her, voice low and authoritative, “Don’t talk to her like that.  I didn’t “choose” Y/N; if she hadn’t volunteered it would have been whoever was drawn from the Lottery.  I’m sorry but that’s the truth.”

Ina’s face twists and she turns her head away for a moment before she charges forward.  Your eyes widen, bracing yourself for impact, but Minseo guides you away from the door to let her barrel out of it.

It’s quiet for a few moments, before Jeongguk sighs heavily and sits back on his medical cot.   His movement snaps you back into the moment and you take a small step towards him, causing him to raise his head to look at you.

Jeongguk looks exhausted as he simply stares at you for a moment, before he raises his arms in welcoming and you fall into him.  You wrap your arms around his shoulders, cradling his head to your chest as the tension in your body floods out of you.  You’re not surprised to find that a few tears fall, utterly relieved to see and feel that Jeongguk is only minorly injured.

“Y/N,” Jeongguk says tiredly, breath washing across your skin, “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

You shake your head, kissing his crown as you rub your fingers against the back of his neck, “I don’t care about Ina right now, are you okay?”

Jeongguk lets out a deep sigh again, the arms he had tightly wrapped around you growing limp, “So tired.”

“What happened?” you asked softly, “How did you get hurt?”

“Bear,” he says gruffly, “Took us by surprise.  Snagged m’arm with its claws.  Had’ta flee.”

His words are starting to slur and you squeeze him to you for a long moment before you slowly ease him back down onto the cot.  Jeongguk doesn’t fight against you, nuzzling against the hand you lay on his cheek as he gets comfortable.

“Rest now,” you kiss his cheek and his eyelashes flutter closed, “You’re okay.”

You watch his face even out as he falls asleep, the furrow between his eyebrows slowly smoothing.  When you turn around, you see Minseo watching the two of you with soft eyes and a softer smile.

She simply says, “Let’s let him rest.  We’ll prepare him dinner and you can deliver it later.”

“That sounds good.”

There’s quiet between the two of you as you head back to the dining hall before Minseo breaks it, “He was wrong, you know.”

“Jeongguk?” you question and she nods, “About what?”

“He says he didn’t choose you, but he’s wrong.”

“How so?” you ask, because you very plainly volunteered, there was no choosing on his end.

Minseo smiles serenely up at the clear blue sky, closing her eyes against the sunlight, “He chose you the moment you stepped forward.”

-

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Jeongguk frowns at you, watching you change into heavier clothes.

You roll your eyes, completely exasperated with him, “I don’t care what you think, I want to do this.”

You pull a thick cloak around you, cinching it around your neck as you face him.  He’s tonguing his cheek, staring intensely at the wall as he thinks.  The two of you have been arguing about this for the past half hour, the both of you adamant on opposite stances.

“You don’t know the area well enough,” he finally settles on, “There are other pack members who would be more useful on this supply run.”

You pause in lacing your boots up, slowly and carefully facing Jeongguk as he seems to realize the implications behind his words.

“You think I’m useless?” you ask in an even tone and he takes a step towards you before you even finish.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he snaps, as you glare at him and shove past him.  He snags your arm to turn you to him before you can leave the bedroom, “I just meant-”

“I know what you just meant,” you rip your arm from his grasp, continuing down the hallway, “I can’t just be your bitch forever Jeongguk, I have to be of some use to the pack.”

“No one thinks-!” Jeongguk is hurrying after you as you head towards the front door, but you’re done listening.

“I’m going whether you like it or not,” you tell him fiercely, and he stands kind of dumbly in place, eyes wide and chest heaving, “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Y/N!” he calls out, but the only answer he gets is the slamming of your front door in his face.

When Alpha Kim had approached you about accompanying some pack members on a supply run, you had immediately said yes.  You’d only been with the pack for a few days but you felt like a burden, so you tried to pitch in wherever you could: clothes mending, laundry, food prep, farming.

This supply run would give you a chance to get to know some of the pack members a little better and the surrounding area as well.  You were excited about it, and it hurt your feelings a little when you had told Jeongguk and his response had been a shake of his head.

“No, I don’t think you should go,” he had said, casually, turning away from you like the conversation was over.

He seemed to think that because he was an alpha, what he said went, but you were your own person and you had already decided you were going on the supply run; you had told Jeongguk out of courtesy, not permission.  So you had simply left Jeongguk to his lunch and went to pack some of your belongings before you really began arguing, before he called you useless.

Now, you’re approaching the group gathered outside Yoongi’s cabin, the alpha the leader of this particular run.

“Ah, Y/N, good, you’re here.  That should be everyone, are we ready to set out?” his voice is quiet but commanding, and your little group quiets down as they nod their agreement.

You don’t look back as you follow the group out to the edge of your pack boundary line and across it, chatting with the human girl Jihyo.  You two have spent some time together since you’ve arrived and you feel better about not being the only human on the run.

Yoongi leads your group in his shifted form, nose to the ground as other shifted members flank the sides.  You dislike the idea of the shifters circling around you humans like you need protection, but considering you still don’t know the area, you don’t fight against it.  You’re sure they’re just being extra careful with you as well, considering how new you are.

You and Jihyo collect some simple and easy herbs as you walk.  There’s a deer den the group is headed to and there’s a black berry patch Jihyo had mentioned that was near it.  You’re expected to reach a camping spot by sun down, head into the deer den to catch them by surprise in the early morning, swing by the berry patch, and reach home just before dinner.  You hope that it’ll give you and Jeongguk enough time to calm down after your little spat to talk it through.

Yoongi stops suddenly in front of you, one of the pack members stumbling into him as he raises his nose to sniff quickly at the air, tail stiff with alert.  The others seem to realize something’s amiss as they crowd you and Jihyo in between them, watching the tree line for whatever it is Yoongi’s smelling.

Except Yoongi lets out an amused huff before he shifts back, turning to face the way your group had just come from.

“You might as well come out of hiding, I can smell you,” he calls out and you look where he’s looking, but with your diminished senses you can’t see anything.

Until a black body shifts its way between some bushes, head held high as he walks to you.  You roll your eyes and turn away from Jeongguk as he joins your group, padding his way up to Yoongi, ears and tail lowered in respect.

“Weren’t you attacked by a bear a two days ago?  Should you really be following us?” Yoongi asks rhetorically, before he shifts back.

Yoongi barely gives any of you time to adjust to the new addition to your group, sticking his nose back to the ground as he continues to follow the trail.

Jeongguk turns his head to look back at you but you push forward with Yoongi, refusing to spare him a glance.  You can feel your blood boiling. How dare he follow you like you’re some little girl who needs her father to watch over her.

Jeongguk doesn’t approach you as you and Jihyo continue to collect easy supplies as you walk.  You’re going a little slower than you expected, but the way the pack does things is different than you’re used to.

It becomes evident what’s given Yoongi some concern when he pauses over a dark splatter against a tree trunk, growling lowly in his throat as he sniffs at it.

“That’s… blood,” Jihyo whispers nervously by your side, subconsciously reaching down for your hand in search of comfort.

Jeongguk nears Yoongi and they seem to have a quick conversation if the look they share is anything to go by.  You’re surprised to see them motion for your group to head into the trees, off the established path.  One of the unshifted members behind you explains what’s happening when they sense your hesitation.

“It must be another shifter’s blood if Yoongi’s taking us into cover.  He must not be sure what’s hurt it,” he says, a shifter named Minho, “It looks like old blood though, so it’s probably more a precaution than anything.”

You nod and when you face forward, you can see Jeongguk is looking at you over his shoulder.  You give him a quick, reassuring smile and he accepts it, turning back to help beat down the grass for your group to walk through easier.

Yoongi seems satisfied with your cover after a few hours, shifting back to put a halt to the group.

“We’ll bed down here for the night,” Yoongi announces, the treetops hiding the waning sunlight, “We’re a little farther from the deer den than I would have preferred, but we’re capable and can make do.  I know there’s a little lake nearby where we can get some fish for extra food and wash up really quick, which we’ll do in shifts.  Minho, help me gather some wood.  Seulgi, Jeongguk, you head to the lake-”

“Wait, that’ll leave Y/N and Jihyo by themselves,” Jeongguk quickly interjects, meeting the withering glare Yoongi sends him head on.

“Your point?”

“W-Well, someone should stay with them, shouldn’t they?  Seulgi can handle fishing by herself, I’ll-”

“The two of you will catch more fish faster than just Seulgi by herself,” Yoongi counteracts, before his voice turns teasing, borderline mocking, “What’s the matter, Jeongguk?  Don’t trust your mate by herself?”

“That’s not-!” Jeongguk splutters and you snort, crossing your arms.

“Then Seulgi and you will gather the fish.  You should remember where the lake is, I won’t insult you by holding your hand and walking you to it.”

Jeongguk’s face turns red and he glowers, Seulgi nudging his shoulder good naturedly as they turn away.  Jeongguk does shoot you one last glance but you ignore him again, upset with his response to this whole situation.

“C’mon, let’s start setting up camp,” Jihyo says and you snap back to it, nodding as the two of you get to work.

Quickly, the two of you pat the ground down enough that you’ll be able to easily contain and control your small bonfire.  Jihyo shyly asks if she can set her sleeping pad near yours and you feel your heart constrict in a pleasant manner, pulling yours closer to hers in answer.  You like Jihyo and you hope that your friendship with her only grows.

“Jeongguk’s been acting kind of weird today,” she observes, almost hesitantly, like she’s afraid to cross any boundaries.

You sigh as the two of you settle in to wait for everyone to get back.

“Yeah, we had a fight this morning about this supply run.  We’ll be okay, I’m just upset with how much it seems like he doesn’t trust me.  I know we’ve known each other for less than a week, but all this seems completely uncalled for.  He followed me out here for god’s sake.”

Jihyo nods, taking it what you’re saying and thinking it over, before she says, “I have no advice, sorry.”

You laugh, patting her hand as you smile, “It’s okay.  It’s something Jeongguk and I have to figure out for ourselves.”

“For what it’s worth, it seems to me like he’s just worried about you; I’ve only known Jeongguk a few years and he’s always been kind of reserved and off on his own, but whenever you’re around he always seems to be a little more present and engaged.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair, and she smiles reassuringly at you, as she says, “Maybe try and talk to him tonight, before bed.  You’re not supposed to go to bed angry, right?”

You stand as Minho and Yoongi breach your little clearing, arms loaded with more firewood than is probably necessary for a night, but it’ll be good to have as a precaution.  You’re the most adept at starting a fire, having had to use one everyday to heat your little hut in your old tribe and whenever you wanted to eat, so you have it going in no time at all.

The four of you sit and talk as you wait for Jeongguk and Seulgi to get back, and it takes longer than you were expecting.  You’re not sure how far this lake is but it can’t be that far and Jeongguk’s not enough of an idiot to have gotten lost.  You briefly think about the dried shifter blood and start to worry that whatever got it had got them.  Yoongi must detect the change in your heart rate because he shoots you a comforting smile.

The relief you feel when they finally come back, sacks loaded with fish, is overtaken by surprise when Jeongguk unceremoniously dumps a large and slimy catfish in your lap with a wet plop.

“I caught this for you,” he simply says, turning away immediately to hand his sack to Yoongi so they can start gutting the contents.

You stare at the fish in your lap for a moment, it’s dead beady eye staring back at you as you start to smile.  Even in the midst of a fight he’d been thinking of you and you shake your head, pulling a knife out of your belt to gut and debone it.

You wonder if, as you bed down for the night, Jeongguk is going to sleep beside you.  You’ve gotten used to sharing space with him the past few days and your sleeping pad feels empty without him.  He and Yoongi are talking on the other side of the smoldering fire, probably a plan for the sneak attack on the deer in the morning, and he looks handsome in the firelight.  His jaw is drawn tight, chewing on his lip as the two of them strategize, arms crossed over his chest with his biceps flexing as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.  He’s handsome, you’ll never deny that, and what makes him even more attractive is the way he cares, especially about others.  Especially about you.

You’re less mad at him now then you were earlier, but you know it’s something the two of you still have to discuss; he needs to realize that you are an individual and you get to make your own decisions, whether he agrees with them or not.  But you realize he was right in being worried about you going on the run in the first place, unfamiliar with the pack and the area. You’ll let him know that you’ll listen to him more next time if he’s willing to do the same.

Jeongguk suddenly glances over at you and you don’t shy away from his gaze, even if your heart does jump with surprise.  You scoot back on your pad a little to pat the space in front of you and he smiles, a small genuine one, before he motions you to wait a few more minutes.  You’re content with that, letting yourself relax as you watch him finish up his conversation, before he eagerly pads his way over to you.

“Gukkie,” you smile at him as he settles right beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist to haul you into him.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he greets, leaning in to kiss you softly, at odds with the way he tightly holds you close to him.

“The fish was good,” you tell him and he grins happily at you.

“Seulgi was getting mad at how long I was taking, but when I saw it I knew I wanted to get it for you,” he admits and you laugh at him.

“There were plenty of other catfish you could have caught,” Seulgi grumpily snaps at him, still awake and sitting by the fire even though her eyes are starting to droop, “It didn’t have to be that particular one.”

He ignores her and you poke his side for it, Jeongguk just burying his face in your shoulder.  You smooth a hand down his back, bunching his tunic top in your hands as you keep him close, breathing in his comforting scent as your body melts into him.  He shifts so the two of you are a little more comfortable, one of his arms sliding under your head as a makeshift pillow while one of your legs slides between his.

“Are we okay?” he whispers to you, the chatter of the last few pack members serving as quiet background noise.  You think you can hear Jihyo snoring, enhanced by the few crickets you guys haven’t scared away.

“I still want to calmly discuss it and not just accept your bribe of fish-”

“-it wasn’t a bribe-” he sulks.

“-but I get it,” you tell him gently, laying your free hand on his cheek.  He kisses your palm as you continue, “we should’ve talked it out more before I stormed off and you decided it was necessary to crash the party.”

Jeongguk has the decency to look sheepish, “Sorry I just- sorry.  Yoongi’s right, I should trust you more.  I just worry about you, being new to the pack and the area.  I trust the members with my life but if something happened to you on this run and I wasn’t here to protect you, I’d never forgive myself.”

“You won’t always be able to protect me,” you gently admonish him.

Jeongguk heaves out a heavy sigh, like it pains him to admit, “I know.  I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” you tell him, “I should have listened to your concerns seriously before I got mad.  It’s just… hard for me to listen to others. It’s been just me for so long, I’m not used to other people caring for me.”

“Sounds like we both have some things we need to work on,” Jeongguk notes and you smile into his neck.

“Together?” you whisper, glancing up at him.

“Together,” he smiles before he kisses you.

“Ugh, get a room,” Yoongi gags from the other side of the bonfire, and you and Jeongguk giggle into each other.

-

You and Jeongguk are incredibly sexually compatible, that much is obvious, but more than that, you find that you genuinely enjoy being around him.  Time and time again, you find the two simply together and enjoying each other’s presence, not just each other’s bodies.

It’s nice.  A comfortable life with someone you genuinely enjoy being around and someone you didn’t just settle for is not something you’d ever have.  Jeongguk makes you laugh until your stomach hurts, tears clinging to the corner of your eyes.  He makes you cry with soft stories of his childhood, recounting precious memories with his parents and grandparents, about friends that have come and gone.

It’s amazing.  He’s amazing.  You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to pop this bubble that you’ve been living in for the past few days, but it doesn’t come.  You don’t expect your life with Jeongguk to always be this easy, but you know that if you two continue to work together like you’ve been, you’ll be able to overcome anything.

“Our ceremony is in a few days,” Jeongguk tells you two mornings before your ceremony, curled around you with your head resting on his bicep.

He’s scratching at your scalp, and you’ve noticed these last couple of days that he’s lost most of his feral features.  His nails are short and blunt, and his fangs have retracted to match the rest of his teeth. You’ve learned that it wasn’t so much that Jeongguk’s feral transformation that made him lose his communication skills, but that he’s fairly reserved most of the time naturally.  It doesn’t bother you; you like watching Jeongguk just exist in the space around him, filling it entirely with his very being.

“I know,” you whisper, brushing the lightest touch against the newly started ink on his chest.  It’s part of the ceremony, Jeongguk having earned the right to bear the pack’s insignia, and it’ll be completed by the time you say your mating vows.

“Are you nervous?” he asks, using the leverage he has in your hair to tilt your head back, staring intensely down at you, “Are you regretting your decision?”

“No,” you tell him immediately, because you don’t, “there are some things I regret in life, but you’ll never be one of them.  But yes… I am nervous.  I don’t know why though.”

He smiles sweetly at you, kissing you even sweeter.

“I can’t wait,” he says honestly, smattering kisses across your face as he tries to pull you closer, though there’s miniscule space between you two already, “getting to do this with you for the rest of my life… it sounds almost too good to be true.”

You bury your face in his chest and he lets you, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he pins you to the furs.

“You’re sappy,” you mumble into his chest and he hums, not denying it, “but the rest of our lives has a nice ring to it.”

The only thing that could potentially put a damper on your mood is Ina, who has been nothing but rude and condescending to you.  You ignore her, for the most part, and don’t mention anything to Jeongguk because it’s not worth a second thought.  Jeongguk is your mate now and it’s something she’ll just have to accept.

Jeongguk’s friends, Jimin and Taehyung, are really sweet to you, and help you prepare for your ceremony considering your lack of friends.  But you think you can begin calling them friends of your own as they help rub oil into your skin, specifically around your neck, to help loosen and slightly numb it to prepare it for your mating bite.  They also help you make a necklace for Jeongguk, your own symbol of possession considering you can’t return his bite.

The night before your ceremony, you’re whisked away from Jeongguk, Minseo giggling at the outrage on his face.

“It’s bad luck to see your mate before the ceremony, Y/N’s gonna have to stay with me tonight,” she lies and you cackle as Jeongguk whines at her, uncaring of the fact that he’s amidst his pack in the dining hall.

Some of the older women coo at him as he stands, stalking towards the two of you as Minseo drags you around.  The rest of the pack joins in on the fun, pulling you around the hall as they block Jeongguk’s attempts from getting to you.  The both of you laugh as you play along, you hiding behind people as Jeongguk wrestles pups to the ground, acting like they’re his biggest obstacle.

“I’ll never get to her this way!” Jeongguk proclaims, letting one of the pups gain the upper hand and put him in a rather strong headlock for someone his size, “You’ll never take her from me!”

You giggle as Minseo comes around to collect you, pulling you out from behind a sweet omega named Taeyeon, tucking some hair behind your ear as she slides a clip into your hand.

You grip it tightly as she leans into you, whispering, “This was my mother’s.  It would… mean a lot to me if you wore it during your ceremony tomorrow.  Mother always wanted to see Jeongguk’s mating ceremony and I think she would have loved you.”

It brings tears into your eyes and you hug her tightly, as the crowd around you continues to laugh and play loudly.

“Thank you,” you cry.

Minseo kisses your cheek, keeping you close to her as she says, “Out of any daughter I could have received, I thank the gods it’s someone like you.  I know you and Jeongguk will be happy together.”

Minseo is going to have you flat out sobbing in a few moments as she pulls away to smooth your hair down before she steps back.  You wipe hastily at your eyes, pocketing the clip safe and secure in your pants.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she tells you.

You go to answer, but familiar arms wrap around your waist and lift you up.  You squeal loudly, the crowd bursting into cheers as Jeongguk spins you, grin becoming visible as he shifts you until he has an arm around your back and under your knees, both your arms around his neck.

“Gotcha,” he’s smug, like it was actually a challenge to get to you.

“Oh no, whatever shall I do?” you sarcastically intone, pressing the back of your hand dramatically to your forehead, “It looks like the big bad wolf has caught me.”

“I’d be careful, little lamb; this big bad wolf has quite the appetite and it seems he’s caught something particularly tasty,” he licks his lips, winking at you, and there are whistles from the crowd.

You snicker but quickly school your features, fluttering your eyelashes at him as you say, “I wonder what I could possibly offer in exchange for my life?”

Jeongguk purses his lips, pretending to think, before he says, “I suppose I could spare you.  In exchange, you have to promise yourself to me.”

“Oh?  That’s a steep price,” you tease, biting your lip as Jeongguk growls a little at you, “Is it worth it, do you think?”

You hear a few people in the crowd shout out yes! and you grin at Jeongguk as he says, “You promise yourself to me, and I in turn promise to devote myself to you until I die.”

“I get to keep my life and receive a promise of my own?  Seems grossly unfair to me.  How about I tack on my own promise of devotion?”

Jeongguk doesn’t respond, just hoists you up a little farther so his aim is more on point when he kisses you hotly.  The crowd around you cheers the two of you on and you can’t quite hide the smile you’re sporting in the kiss, no matter how hard Jeongguk tries to eat it up.

-

The day of your ceremony, Minseo does steal you away from Jeongguk, practically shaking with excitement that she gets to help you dress.

Your dress is made of light cotton, something easy to slip in and out of, both for the ease of the party and the copulation.  Minseo rubs a sparkly powder made from fern flowers, flowers thought to have been blessed by the Moon Goddess, into your hair.  She gives you a watery grin when you slide Jeongguk’s grandmother’s clip into place, securing some hair out of your face.

You’re barefoot, to appreciate the earth beneath your feet, one of the blessings of the gods that allows your pack to survive and prosper.  It’s a beautiful day and at noon the pack members howl, signaling the start of the ceremony.

As Minseo guides you out of her cabin you feel your heart jump up into your throat from nerves.  You have the most absurd thoughts as you approach the center of the pack grounds, things like: will Jeongguk be there to meet you?; has all of this just been a sick joke, a taunt of the gods to show you what you’ll never have?; will you wake up back in your tribe, all alone again?

Minseo squeezes your shoulders as you suddenly stop, eyes wide and breath shortening.

“It’s okay sweetheart, just take your time,” she tells you, “you take this at your own pace, okay?  Today is about you and the start of your life with Jeongguk, this isn’t about anybody else.”

“Will he be there?” you ask her fearfully, afraid that when you reach the center he’ll laugh at you from the sidelines, as if you were ever good enough for him.

“Being Jeongguk’s mother, I know him inside and out.  Y/N, I’ve never seen Jeongguk look at someone the way he’s looked at you.”

You nod, taking a deep breath as Minseo smooths some of your hair down, waiting for your signal.  Finally, you nod with a bit more finality and step forward.

Various pack members throw seeds at your feet as you pass them.  The congregation grows thicker the closer you get to Jeongguk, but they’re purposefully blocking him from view, Alpha and Omega Kim standing at the very end.

“Y/N,” Alpha Kim greets you and you bow to him, “Please, rise.  Accept this gift of our pack, as we formally acknowledge that you are to be mated to one of our alphas, Jeon Jeongguk, and that better yet, you are officially one of our own.  Today and going forward, you are a part of our family.”

You wipe a tear from your eye as Omega Kim steps forward to place a rather simple but beautiful flower crown on your head, you bowing a little lower to show respect and thankfulness for the gift.

“Allow me to be the one to say this: out of any offering we could have chosen, I’m thankful you had the courage to volunteer.  Please, step forward and meet your mate.  If I can be blunt, he’s been rather anxious all morning.”

An indignant hey sounds from behind him and you laugh, the Kims parting to give you your first glance of Jeongguk and it steals your breath away.

He’s standing in the middle of the pack circle, wearing just as simple of a tunic as your dress, just as barefoot, and just as handsome as you’ve seen him everyday this week.  But his hands are clasped tightly in front of him, eyes glassy as he gazes so fondly at you it causes more tears to spring to your eyes.

Jeongguk holds his hands out as your step to him and you willingly follow the way he pulls you to him, dropping his forehead against yours.  The pack is quiet and respectful as you share the moment together, before you feel Jeongguk release a shaky breath.

“Hi,” he says, voice hoarse and you want to laugh but you can feel your lower lip wobbling.

“Hi,” you parrot, throat tight with emotions you’re currently unable to process.

“You look… more beautiful than anything I could have ever imagined,” he tells you, raw honesty shining through each word he speaks, “The clip- thank you.  I know grandmother is smiling down on us today.”

You can’t respond, choking on all the words you want so desperately to say to him, but he seems to understand you anyway if the spring light kiss he gives you is anything to go by.

There’s light applauding from the pack as you two straighten, Alpha and Omega Kim stepping up to the two of you.

“Everybody,” Alpha Kim intones, raising his hands high, “Please join me in blessing the joyous joining of these two bodies.  Though they are separate in physical form, they are one in soul.  May the Moon Goddess bless their lives together as we help watch over them, so is our promise as a pack.”

The shifters throw their heads back to howl as you and Jeongguk cross your arms to join hands, Omega Kim wrapping a twine rope that has been steeped in the same fern flower powder in your hair.  It sparkles against your skin, catching the sunlight as she wraps and wraps and wraps, up and down your arms until she knots it in place, knot hanging between your hands.

“In front of the pack, recite your promises.”

“As an alpha,” Jeongguk starts, staring directly at you, voice steady and resolute, “I promise to protect you with my life.  I promise to give you my all, so that we may have a good life together, here, within this pack, until fate intervenes or decides otherwise.  I promise to love you more today than I did yesterday, and love you even more tomorrow.  As my word is my bond, do you accept?”

You don’t think as you nod, already knowing what your answer is, “I accept.”

“Y/N, in front of our pack, please recite your promises.”

You take a moment to gather yourself, rubbing your cheeks against your shoulders to rid yourself of your tears since your hands are bound.  Jeongguk coos softly at you, pure elation etched in his face as he watches you.

“As a human,” you begin, voice shaky with emotion but ringing true with clarity, “I recognize that there is not much I can do to provide for you.  But I promise to be the best mate I can be, to support you in your endeavors and to lift your spirits when you are down.  I promise to love you with my entire heart, until fate decides to bless us with children, and I promise to love and protect them as any mother would do.  As my word is my bond, do you accept?”

“I accept,” Jeongguk whispers, arms straining against the rope in an effort to not just pull you to him and ravage you in front of everyone.

“We as a pack wish you all the happiness in the world,” Omega Kim finishes, reaching forward to undo the knot, letting the twine fall away from your arms as Jeongguk finally pulls you into him.

He’s crying into your hair, holding you close to him as the pack surges forward to give you their congratulations before they set off to get the party started.

“Why are you crying?” you blubber into his shoulder, holding onto him, “Stop it, you’re making it worse!”

He hiccup laughs into your ear, running his hands down your back as he finally pulls away.  Your heart swells as you wipe the tear tracks off his cheeks, leaning up to kiss him softly.  He nuzzles his nose against yours as you pull away, tucking you into his side as you follow the crowd to the party.

“I do really like this dress.  Looks like your Lottery dress,” Jeongguk says, clearing his throat of any remaining tears, tugging playfully at the hem.

“It is!” you say, stepping away as he keeps a grasp on your hand, Jeongguk letting out a laugh as you use it to your advantage to do a little spin, “Well, parts of it.  Figured I’d never wear it again but could still get some use out of it.”

“You look pretty,” he says simply, “and not to be a pervert so early in the afternoon, but you’ll look even better out of it.”

“Shut up,” you blush and he grins.

You and Jeongguk aren’t allowed to drink any wine, to keep yourselves clear headed for your impending copulation.  You two don’t need to drink to have any fun, though, as the two of you twirl around with your pack members, dancing and laughing and eating to your heart’s content.

You’re flushed and sweaty as the sun starts to set, the pack lighting up a bonfire as the party starts to wind down.  You’ve been stopped by individuals of the pack who want to personally congratulate you and wish you well.

“I’ve watched Jeongguk grow up and he’s always been such a sweet boy,” an older beta woman tells you, spindly fingers clutched around yours, “He’ll take such good care of you.  And I can tell you’ll take equally as good care of him.”

Jeongguk is on the other side of the clearing, nodding along as he intently listens to an older alpha tell him a story.  He seems to feel your gaze on him because he pauses in his conversation to glance up at you.  He gives you a small smile, tilting his head in question, but you just smile back as you shake yours.

“You know the old wives tale about the copulation ceremony, don’t you?” the beta asks.

“Oh, no, I don’t believe I have.  What is it?”

“They say that if your fern flowers glow during your copulation, the Moon Goddess is revealing that you’ve found your true mate.”

You’ve actually never heard that wives tale before and the surprise on your face makes the beta laugh.

“Don’t overthink it; it’s just a fairytale we tell the pups.  My advice to you during your copulation is just to relax, you’ll only make things worse for yourself if you’re tense.”

You nod, having already heard this from other mated pairs.  But if you’re being honest with yourself, your not worried about having sex with Jeongguk.  Sure, there’s a little pit in your stomach, but it’s completely overshadowed by the excitement thrumming through your veins at crossing this last intimate barrier with him.

The crowd gets quieter as the moon rises and the party dies down.  There are lots of tired pups being gathered up by their parents as Minseo lovingly embraces you, and then Jeongguk.

“You birthed me, shouldn’t I be hugged first?” Jeongguk exclaims, pulling his mother tightly into his arms as you snort quietly beside him.

“I like Y/N better,” she says simply, but she holds him just as close to her, “I’m happy for you both.”

Jeongguk lets out a shaky exhale, letting her go before he takes your hand, “Thank you.  We’re going to make our rounds before we head to the clearing.”

She nods and gives you a radiant smile, waving you both off.  The rounds involve wishing everyone thanks and bidding them goodnight, older shifters try to give you last minute advice and others your age merely patting you on the back and giving you sly smirks.  Yoongi is probably the worst and you try to ignore the lascivious grin he gets you; he’s already experienced the carnal desires between you and Jeongguk, this isn’t anything new for him.

“Alpha Kim, Omega Kim,” Jeongguk greets and you bow to them and they smile at the both of you, packing up the remaining food to be delivered to your cabin, “thank you for this celebration.  We’re going to go pay our respects to the Moon Goddess now.”

Which is code for: we’re going to fuck like animals.  You try to keep your face neutral, but like with Yoongi, you try not to look Alpha Kim directly in the eyes.

“We wish you all the happiness,” Omega Kim reinterates and you do return this sweet little lady’s genuine kindness, “Oh and Jeongguk?”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Go easy on her,” she teases and you immediately cover your face as you hide behind Jeongguk.  Why are shifters so shameless?

Jeongguk seems just as embarrassed, holding onto you as he whines, “Alpha Kim please control your mate.”

Alpha Kim raises his hands and shakes his head, “Keep me out of this, son.”

The two of them laugh as you wallow in your embarrassment, before Jeongguk forces you beside him to bow one last time and walk away.

“He told her,” you state, glancing up at Jeongguk to see his ears are red, eyes focused on the treeline in front of you.

“He totally told her,” he soullessly intones and you can’t help but crack a smile.

Jeongguk tries not to laugh with you, but he can’t fight the way his lips curl as you giggle into his side.  The walk to the clearing doesn’t take very long and your heart rate picks up when you enter it.

“Jeongguk,” you whisper, eyeing the candles spread around, most of them adorning the base of the Moon Goddess statue.

When you turn to look at him he’s smiling softly at you, leading you further in.

“This could have been a fire hazard,” you scold, for lack of anything better to say.

“Shut up,” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, pulling you to the blanket he has laid out in the center of the candles.

You quiet down as you kneel on the blanket, running your hands over the fur.  It feels new, almost untouched, and you spread out on it on your stomach, sighing as some of the tension eases out of your body.  The clearing is quiet and you close your eyes, almost feeling like you could fall asleep.  The thrumming under your skin for what’s to follow can’t be ignored, though.

You don’t jump when a hand grasps your ankle, thumb rubbing against the skin there as another hand travels up the back of your leg, gripping at your thigh.  A kiss is pressed to the crease of your knee and you laugh at the ticklish feeling of it, before the hand on your thigh grips your hip and nudges you to roll over.

You do so, gasp getting caught in your throat when you see Jeongguk kneeling over you, eyes dark and half-lidded as he gazes down at you, his stare intense.  His hand on your hip moves up until it’s clutching at the dip of your waist, his fingers firm and intent, and your eyelashes flutter at the contact.  The want to close your legs is intense, but Jeongguk is slotted between them.  Jeongguk inhales sharply when he feels them tighten around his thighs instead, which is of very little reprieve for you, and if anything it makes the feeling worse.

“Let’s say our prayers to Her,” he tells you, voice already starting to deepen.

You don’t trust yourself to speak so you just nod, letting Jeongguk help pull you up and over to the statue.  You smile up at Her as you kneel at Her feet, clasping your hands in your lap.

Jeongguk bows his head as he says his prayers to Her, but you keep your head raised.  It almost seems as if She is looking back at you, her gaze stony and resolute but still so benevolent.

“I don’t have anything else to ask of You, You’ve already given me Jeongguk.”

The euphoric feeling that spreads through you suddenly is almost too much to comprehend and you sink into it, letting the feeling travel through your body until you can feel it even in your toes.

“Y/N.”

Jeongguk’s voice sends a shiver down your spine and you spin on your knees to see that Jeongguk has already moved to the blanket, leaning back on his hands with his legs extended in front of him.

You can already feel yourself start to get wet as you crawl towards him, Jeongguk sitting up to meet you in a messy kiss.  Your hands fly to his hair, angling his head up to give your neck a little slack, his own landing on your ass.  The feeling in your body gets hotter and more intense the longer you touch Jeongguk, one hand slipping from his hand to trail down his neck and rest on his pec, right over his heart.  The resounding and steady rhythm beneath your palm is comforting, despite the hungry way Jeongguk is trying to devour you.

“Want you.  Need you,” he groans, his hands on your ass drawing you closer, settling you more firmly in his lap so you can feel him compressed hot and hard in his trousers.

“Get naked,” you breathe out, pulling back to rid yourself of your dress.

Jeongguk’s eyes open, mouth forming a half smirk as he no doubt opens his mouth to say something stupid, before his mouth drops open when you unceremoniously pull your dress over your head.  His mouth shuts with an audible click and he acts like every time he sees you naked it’s the first time.  You knock the fern crown off in your haste and Jeongguk replaces it with shaky fingers, hands smoothing down your flyaway hairs.

“I’ll never get over how pretty you are,” he whispers, hands reverently running over your skin, from your shoulders to your fingers and back, down and around your sides to your ass and thighs, “Feel so good in my hands.  Can’t believe I’m the one who gets to touch you like this.”

You whine as you wriggle in his lap, his fingers light and ticklish, “Love your hands, Gukkie, they’re so big.  Touch me more.”

He hums as he leans forward to attach his lips to the top of your tit, sucking at the skin as his hands tweak your nipples.  You don’t really get much out of having your breasts fondled, but Jeongguk seems to like playing with them and the caress of his hands does feel nice, even if it’s not the most arousing.  You still let yourself get lost in the feeling as you run your hands through his hair, letting Jeongguk leave as many love bites as he wants as he works your nipples to hard peaks.

“Taste good,” he mumbles, his breath causing goosebumps to erupt when it hits your wet skin.

“I have something that tastes even better,” you promise, trailing your own hand down your stomach to lightly trace your lips, feeling how wet you already are yourself.

“You think?” he grins, teeth encasing your nipple for a second, “Think I should find out for myself?”

“I think I’d let you do whatever you wanted to me,” you tell him honestly, squeaking as he shifts under you to take you in his arms, slowly lowering you until your back meets the blanket.

His eyes are black and molten as he pulls back from you, lips furiously red from where they’d worked your skin over, “Don’t tempt me, lamb, or I might take you up on that offer.”

You spread your legs wide in response, fingers drumming against your skin from his lack of touch, pussy aching in need.  Jeongguk lets out a slow breath as he finally sheds himself of his clothes, your mating necklace getting caught in his shirt before he pulls it free and lets it fall back against his skin, complimenting his completed tattoo.

“So good for me,” he praises, kissing his way down your body.

Jeongguk appears to have no patience, immediately diving into your pussy like he’ll die without another minute of it on his tongue.

“Fuck!” you cry out, thighs clamping around his head at the sudden feeling, and his strong hands pry them apart and hold them to the blanket, keeping you open for him.

Your eyes roll back as he delves his tongue into you, eagerly licking and sucking any part of your pussy his mouth can reach.  He’s neglecting your clit with his tongue, but his nose brushes against it continuously and its enough to have you fucking your hips up into his face to get more pressure on it.

“Be a good girl and stay still,” he growls, one hand letting go of your thigh to throw his arm across your hips and hold you down, “Gonna get you nice and wet for my cock but… it looks like you did a good enough job of that for me.”

You groan and nod your head, “Want you so bad, Guk, been thinking about your cock all day.”

You can feel him grin into your pussy, which shouldn’t be as hot as it is, before he says, “Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you.”

He’s been fucking you with his fingers all week, so when presses one slowly into you to test the stretch, you’re quick to ask for another.  And then immediately another.

“So greedy,” he tuts, but doesn’t argue as he presses three fingers into you, watching with rapt attention as your back arches at the sensation.

It’s addictive, the way Jeongguk moves and crooks his fingers inside of you, tongue finally lapping against your clit in order to relax you more.  With his arm still holding your hips down, you take to clutching at his hair to move his tongue in a way you like and he lets you guide him, humming against your skin as you clench around his fingers.

When he finally pulls away you whine your dissatisfaction, eyelashes fluttering open as Jeongguk crawls up your body, his chin wet and glistening in the candle light.  You huff as you wipe it off, arm linking around his neck after.

“I was gonna cum,” you pout, accepting his light kiss.

“Oops,” he shrugs, smirking, and you smack his shoulder, pulling him back into you.

You could kiss Jeongguk for hours, tongues stroking together as your hands explored.  You especially like touching his back, the muscles taunt and defined under your hands as he presses his body against yours.  You both moan as his cock nudges into the wet mess that is your pussy, Jeongguk pulling away with a wet smack and a nip at your lower lip.

“I want to have sex like this,” he tells you, laying his palm against your cheek, “I want to watch your face.”

It’s almost embarrassing to think about, but you can’t help but echo his sentiment and the two of you shuffle for a few seconds, Jeongguk planting his knees more steadily into the ground as your thighs bracket his hips.  That nervous flutter starts up in your stomach as Jeongguk presses the head of his cock against your slit, rubbing it slowly against you as he himself seems to gather his nerves.

Jeongguk holds onto cock as he leans back down over you, pressing his mouth reassuringly against yours as he slowly pushes in, your mouth dropping open as he fills you.

You’ve taken cock before, but it had always been quick trysts with men who didn’t care about you, usually with you half clothed and pushed up against a wall, your own fingers rubbing your clit to give you something as they chased their own orgasms.  There had been some girls you had fucked, pussies wet as you rubbed them together, and there had even been a sweet, traveling woman who had buried her face in your cunt for a few hours and worked your pussy raw.  She had pulled the best orgasms out of you until you cried, but then she had disappeared like a ghost and left you aching for days.  Most people didn’t acknowledge you after, unless they wanted to get their rocks off again, and you had gone with it because you had your own needs to fill too.

Jeongguk is not most people and you can feel the tears gathering in your eyes as he pushes his cock in until his pelvis meets yours.  He’s dropped his head to place his forehead against your collarbone, breath ragged as he finally comes to a halt, body quivering as you clutch onto his shoulders.

“Okay?” he asks, voice deep but quiet, “Hurt?”

“I need a sec,” you whimper, trying to relax around the intrusion and he grants you it, keeping you close as he peppers kisses across your skin.

The throbbing in your pussy changes from uncomfortable to needy as he cock pulses in you and you finally rub your nose against his neck and whisper for him to start moving.

Jeongguk takes a shuddering breath as he slowly pulls his cock out and inches it back in, fingers creating indents on your hip as you clench around him, trying to adjust to the feeling.  His thrusts help, loosening your body up as the pain ache transforms into spikes of pleasure.

“Feels good,” you whine, loosening your hold on his shoulders and letting him pull out of your neck, “Gukkie, feels good.”

You smile up at him as his eyes open, before they widen considerably.  His minuscule thrusts stop and you fear the worst, raising a hand to his face.

“What?  What is it?” you worry, trying to turn your head to see if maybe something’s happening and you see-

You see your hair spread around you with the strands glowing against the blanket.  You gasp, raising a hand to pinch some of the powder off your hair to see it coat your fingers, glowing a translucent blue against your skin.

“Y/N,” Jeongguk whispers shakily, reaching a hand up to touch the crown that had fallen onto the blanket when he laid you down, “the flowers… they’re glowing.”

Jeongguk’s right, your hair is glowing and the rest of your body is starting to glow too, where fern powder has fallen onto your skin all day.

“You’re-you’re glowing and that means your- that means we-” Jeongguk’s lower lip is starting to wobble and he can’t finish his sentence, dipping his head to let it rest in your neck again, “Y/N.”

You cry with him, clutching tightly onto Jeongguk as the message the Moon Goddess sent you sets in; Jeongguk and you are true mates.  It doesn’t sound real, as you sob into Jeongguk’s shoulder, and you don’t feel any different than you did ten minutes ago.  But fern flowers don’t randomly glow, especially not after they’ve been plucked, and not coincidentally on your mating day after giving the Moon Goddess your thanks.

Jeongguk kisses you, a messy thing of tears and spit as he undulates his hips, framing your face as he sets the pace.  You can make out faint murmurings of it’s you as Jeongguk tongues you, pelvis pressed against yours as he grinds against you.  The pressure is almost too much, the hard plains of his lower stomach pressing tantalizingly against your clit as you open around his cock.

His pace turns more frantic, pulling his hips back farther and farther, spearing you on his cock more and more as his hands roam your torso.

“Pretty girl, my pretty girl,” he groans, licking a thick stripe up your neck as your legs tighten around him, overcome with the feeling, “So wet, feel so good around my cock.”

You nod in quick agreement, hands slipping down his back as he starts to sweat, “Guk, touch me, please.”

You cry out as his fingers toy with your clit, tears gathering in your eyes, carding your fingers through his hair.  Your orgasm is fast approaching and Jeongguk seems hellbent on sending you over the edge fast.

“Yes, yes, Gukkie, so close,” you pant, having trouble keeping your eyes open.

“Gonna look so good around my knot,” he grunts, the pressure of his fingers turning deadly and you cry at the feeling, “Gonna knot you so good you’ll feel it for days.  This is the only knot you’ll ever need, the only knot you’ll ever want, got that?” his voice turns into a growl and you openly sob.

“Only ever want you, Guk- gonna- gonna-!”

You throw your head back as all sounds get caught in you throat, back taunt as you arch it, Jeongguk fucking you through your orgasm as his fingers don’t slow.  It’s so good, consuming your entire body as it locks up until all you can feel is it and Jeongguk.

“Baby, look so good like this.  God, I’m so lucky.  Gonna bust- gonna knot-”

Jeongguk stops talking, leaning down to clamp his teeth around your neck.  You don’t even flinch at the feeling, your body thrumming from your orgasm.  There is a sort of warmth in your heart at knowing that once Jeongguk leaves his bite claim it’s official by shifter standards, that you and Jeongguk are mated for life.

You gasp as you feel the initial swelling, Jeongguk biting harder in tandem as his knot grows.  You’ve never slept with a shifter before and the swelling, despite being aware of it, is not something you’re quite prepared to take.  You whine as it continues to swell, Jeongguk growling around his mouthful of your skin as his thrusts slow down as it locks you two in place.

You squeeze your eyes shut as Jeongguk begins to cum and bites through your skin, pain erupting along with it.

“Oh fuck, fuck,” Jeongguk grunts, licking at your neck before he throws his head back and howls, body twitching in your hold.

There’s… a lot.  It feels like Jeongguk cums for a minute straight, panting heavily into the air before he lets his full body weight fall on top of you.  You wheeze but don’t fight it, pressing your nose into his temple as you breathe together.  Jeongguk licks periodically at your bite wound as your breathing evens out and your heartbeats return to normal.

“I can’t believe it,” Jeongguk finally whispers, “How would I get so lucky?  To meet my true mate through a voluntary offering.”

His words bring tears to your eyes again.  It does seem too good to be true, to have been ostracized from your community only to have that ostracism lead to your volunteering at Jeongguk’s Lottery.

Jeongguk raises his head to meet your eyes and he’s wearing a dopey smile, brushing his fingers over the crown of flowers.

“You’re still glowing,” he whispers, eyes bright and shiny in the candlelight.

“Cut it out, I’m gonna cry,” you hiccup, trying to pull Jeongguk down to kiss you, but he resists, testing the pull of his hips.

His knot has gone down enough that he’s able to pull out, but he quickly plunges his fingers into you.  You go to protest, but the words die in your throat as he gazes very seriously up at you.

“Y/N,” he sounds just as serious, “I just- I love you.”

You reach out and punch his shoulder and he rears back, more out of shock than actual pain, “Ow!  What the hell!”

“You can’t say that to me when you’ve got your fingers in me like that!” you protest, though his words have sent your heart spiraling.

“I didn’t want to let the cum out yet,” he says, pouting like the ridiculous idiot he is.

You open your mouth to say something, but he leans in and softly kisses you, finally removing his fingers so he can hold you by your waist.

“I just wanted you to know,” he says, shameless and honest, “I don’t expect you to say it if you don’t feel it.”

You feel a lot for Jeongguk, but you’re not sure if that feeling is love or not, so you keep it to yourself for now.  Jeongguk doesn’t seem offended, if the sweet kisses he continues to give you mean anything.  He places a hand on your cheek to tilt your head and you hiss as it pulls the stiff skin of your neck.

Jeongguk grins as he pulls from kissing your mouth to kissing your neck, the attention alleviating some of the pain.

“We have the clearing all to ourselves,” Jeongguk murmurs against your skin and you hum in acknowledgement, letting him slowly guide you back down on the blanket, “Let’s lay here for a bit, yeah?  I wanna take my time with you.”

“Guk…” you start off and he looks up at you, raising a quizzacle eyebrow, “... thank you.”

He doesn’t ask for what.  You both already know, can both feel it when he raises up to kiss you again, with the intention of taking advantage of all the time you guys have left.  Which is forever.

[need-a-fugue]

Trustworthy (Chapter 3)

Summary: You’ve spent the last three years teaming up with Santiago Garcia on every mission you had a hand in coordinating… and the past several months plotting with him to take down the biggest bad to hit your radar. But even all your time at the DEA and all your experience in the field couldn’t have prepared you for this.

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader (slow burn)

Warnings: Does fluff warrant a warning? Well, before we get into the gritty mission, here be some fluffy fluff. Oh, and language. Because I speak that shit.

Thursday came sooner than anticipated, and with it came that awful rush of dread that enveloped you each and every time you set foot in an airport. You’d think you’d be over this by now, your job shuttling you off to the far corners of the Earth, making it so that the only way you could ever get to where you needed to be – Bogota, Juarez, Islamabad, home – was by plane. But… no. The fear of plummeting to an inevitably fiery death inside a giant can filled with the recycled breath of dozens – even hundreds – of strangers was one you were simply never going to get over.

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding,” Benny barks out amid a thunderous laugh as he watches you down another pill and chase it with a tiny bottle of vodka. “Is it even safe to take Xanax with alcohol?” he asks, his face screwing up in confusion, a hint of concern breaking through the amusement. “Are you so scared of flying that you’re willing to risk an OD?”

“Seems strange, given your profession,” Tom mutters as he sidesteps Ben to slide into the row of seats behind you.

You offer no reply, instead blinking your eyes shut in an attempt to block out the awful activity of preparing for takeoff. The doors haven’t even closed yet, people still steadily boarding the plane, your new teammates still stowing bags and chatting merrily around you, and yet you’ve already buckled in, pulled the lap belt as tight as it will go, and downed your second Xanax in an hour.

“She’ll be alright,” you hear from above. You crack open a single eye and look up to see Santiago looming over the back of your seat. “Fish,” he calls out, tossing a quick glance at the man still struggling with fitting everything into the overhead compartment. “You sit with her. Tell her about all the times you’ve flown. Keep her calm.”

“I’m calm,” you mumble under your breath.

He looks down at you and raises a brow, gaze holding yours even as he tells his friend, “And don’t let her pop any more pills.”

“No shit,” Ben chuckles as he steps out into the aisle, relinquishing his seat just as Frankie finally slams shut the door on the overhead bin. “We’ll have to scrape her off the floor otherwise.”

Frankie slides in next to you, the tiny armrest barely allowing for any space between you and the scorching heat radiating off of him. Normally you might be okay with that, it certainly felt good in the chilly parking lot the other night. But right now you’re feeling flush and hot and on the verge of possible combustion, the odd suck and click sound of the plane’s door shutting and sealing you in causing a bead of sweat to begin sliding down your temple.

“Truth be told, I’m not too wild about being on flights where I’m not the pilot,” he says, his soft voice pitched perfectly to sound just over the hum of the plane, the new buzzing in your ears, and the sudden woosh of air from the vent that he reaches over to switch on above you.

“Comforting,” you mutter, shutting your eyes against the harsh, dry air blowing down on you, but inclining your head back into the steady, cooling stream just the same.

“Just don’t tell her about how many times you’ve crashed, Fish,” Ben laughs from across the aisle. You bolt upright and crane your neck around the man beside you so as to stare the giggly child down, wide eyes gleaming with a very real threat that actually causes his smirk to break and a subtle, “sorry,” to slip past his lips.

Frankie takes your hand, pries it away from the armrest that you’d been holding in a death grip, and he gives you a little nudge with his elbow, encouraging you to lean back in your seat. “I’ve never crashed,” he corrects, shooting Benny a swift, reprimanding glare before turning back to you. “I’ve just… had a couple of rough landings. But each time everyone walked away fine.”

“Yeah?” you question, critical brow cranking high. “And how often do people walk away from rough landings on a commercial airplane?”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Not often,” he admits. “But they also don’t go down often, so there’s that.”

Your eyes blow wide, slight gasp catching in your throat as you eke out, “Are you trying to jinx us?”

He twists in his seat to look at you, his fingers wrapping just a little bit tighter around your hand as you inadvertently shake in his grasp. “Trust me, princesa, this is the least dangerous thing we’re gonna do this week.”

The heady bolt of fear subsides a bit, quickly replaced by a tinge of confusion – princesa? – and a hint of irritation. Your face twists into an overdone pout – “Don’t call me that.” – but you can’t deny that his words do, somehow, put you at ease. Or perhaps the Xanax is just kicking in. Either way, you find yourself settling back into the seat, body and mind both suddenly sluggish and heavy. You twist towards him, away from the window and the blinding glare of the early morning sun as it reflects off the stark white wing of the plane, and you let out a small disgruntled grunt as the too-tight lap belt digs into your hip.

Frankie easily contorts himself in his seat so that he’s able to face you bodily, smiling – perhaps teasing – eyes never disconnecting from yours as he too settles in and reclines his head to the headrest. “Gotta have some kind of callsign over the radio,” he states, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a coy, crooked smile. “You don’t like princesa… how about loquita?”

“Fuck you,” you bark out amid a snort of a laugh, the offended pitch to your voice and wide-eyed stare setting him to very nearly vibrate with stifled giggles.

He takes a moment to swallow down his obvious amusement, holding your gaze all the while. Then he clears his throat and pulls his features into a stern set. “Don’t take it personally. I’d call anyone who hates to fly crazy.”

You issue out a short, incredulous scoff. “Maybe if I were the pilot, I’d like it. If I were in control.”

“Yeah,” he admits with a nod and a sigh. “That helps.”

But the truth is, you don’t actually think it would help that much. Because, well… “What person in their right mind thinks, you know what I’d like to do? I’d like to ignore the fact that God gave me legs instead of wings and I’d like to leave the ground. I mean… the ground is the safe place, man. What are you thinking?”

He smiles over at you, a soft, tender expression that sets off a flutter deep in your core. “What kind of person wants to stay on the ground with everybody else when they can climb into the heavens and move through the clouds?”

You bite back the grin that begs to break out and instead flatten your face in the most deadpan expression you can muster. “Are you fucking with me right now?” He merely shoots a wink in response, the light from outside your window reflecting in his deep brown eyes as they pierce into you. You roll your own eyes, but can just barely hold back the quirk to your lips as you say simply, “You’re the crazy one.”

He lets loose with a soft chuckle and shifts further in his seat so that he’s entirely facing you. “You never wanted to play in the clouds?” he asks, grin pulling wider. You feel a new heat – a welcome and comforting one, not the panicky, dizzying burn from before – blossom inside of you as you notice a single dimple cave in on the side of his stubble-dusted face.

A long sigh escapes you. “I mean, I did watch a lot of Care Bears growing up,” you offer, working to keep your expression still and set. But his smile simply grows and it’s just a breath of a moment before you break and let loose with a beam of your own. “God,” you nearly whine as an airy chuckle spills out of you. “Play in the clouds? You’re so cheesy.”

“Hey, I happen to really like cheese.” He raises a rather serious brow as he asks, tone low and sincere, “Can you imagine what the world would be like without cheese?”

You force a stoic glare, bite back a smile. “It’d be terrible. No nachos or pizza…”

He shakes his head slowly, sadly. “All the macaroni would be naked.”

You release a soft sigh. “One third of those popcorn tins would be empty.”

“Or filled with, I dunno, kale-dusted popcorn or something.”

You snort out a laugh, nose wrinkling in disgust. “What would we eat with tomato soup? Grilled eggplant?”

He shrugs. “What would Green Bay fans wear to the game?”

And again, you laugh, this one full and buoyant. “Poor Wisconsin, their entire economy would collapse.”

“What about the French?” he asks.

And it’s your turn to offer up a shrug. “They’ve still got wine.”

He stares at you for a lingering moment before his eyes flicker just past and out the window. “Maybe it sounds a little cheesy,” he begins, ticking his chin towards you, towards the tiny airplane window behind you. “But look out there and tell me there isn’t a part of you that wants to climb out there right now and bounce through those fluffy little bastards.”

Your brows pull tightly together, a quick flicker of pure shock shooting through you and causing you to whip around so fast that a crack sounds from your spine. Outside the window are, in fact, hordes of white puffy clouds peppering the bright blue sky. “What…?” you choke out, utter confusion lacing the word.

When had you taken off? When had you reached altitude? How had he managed to distract you so effectively as you climbed thousands of miles into the sky in this deathtrap tube?

You stare out the window for a long moment, giving yourself time to breathe, to comprehend. Allowing your fingers – which had just clamped painfully down on Frankie’s hand yet again – to slowly relax and loosen their terrified hold. No, there’s no part of you that wants to go out there and bounce around in the damn clouds. No. Way. In. Hell. But there is a part of you that begins to get lost in the soft, subtle beauty stretching out all around you. It’s still scary as hell. But it’s also… amazing.

Frankie watches as you continue to gaze out at the sprawling sky, bright blue on this beautiful day, a day he’d like nothing more in this world than to be out in, flying through the wide-open sky. Your hand remains wrapped around his, even if the intense grip has slackened. And your shoulders are still nearly pressed to you ears, so tense and taut. But there’s a sort of wonder wrapping about you now too, a look of, if not joy, at least appreciation.

“Los cielos,” he mutters from behind, seemingly to himself, his tone dreamy and airy and full of something like… wonder. You toss a glance over your shoulder and catch the way the sun lights his face as he stares just past you, his eyes fixated on the world beyond. You stare for perhaps a beat too long, not realizing until his gaze slowly shifts from the window to you, catching you in the act. The dimple caves again, wide smile pulling once more as he locks onto your eyes, light laughter bubbling out of him as your gaze pings away in a swift moment of embarrassment. He squeezes your hand, tightening his grip on your fingers for a single, quick, perfect millisecond before he utters, honeyed voice once again carrying more than a hint of teasing, “Cielo.”

Confused, you look back up at him, your brow twisting. But you let out a groan the moment he tenders another wink, the moment you realize that he’s just offered up another ridiculous callsign suggestion. You roll you eyes again, but make no move to pull out of his hold nor turn from his heated gaze. “So much cheese…”

He laughs again, his grin pulling tight as he watches you settle back into your seat with an exhausted sigh. You raise a brow in question, in challenge. And the smirk fades to a stony façade as he gives a single, definitive nod and declares, as though all has been settled, “Cielo.”

000

The flight knocks you for a loop. Less than an hour in, you’re passed out, snoring away on Frankie’s shoulder. You wake at one point to discover a pool of drool leaking from your gaping mouth and soaking through the shoulder of his button down, but you don’t even have the wherewithal to be embarrassed, nor the grace to apologize. Instead, you lazily swipe at the mess and turn with an incoherent mumble before dropping your heavy head against the cool glass of the window. You’re pretty sure you hear the tinkling of laughter coming from across the aisle – pretty sure that’s the sound that woke you from your drug-induced slumber to begin with – and you can definitely discern the throaty whispers of shut the hell up and you’re an asshole, Ben coming from the man by your side. But you’re too laden with sleep to really process or care.

For the next however many hours, you dream. Dream of bouncing through clouds in a bright blue sky. Dream of slinking through the jungle with strange men by your side. Dream of falling and floating and somehow rising to fly. You sleep and dream – and snore and drool – until an all-too familiar laugh sounds from above, a barking command of, “Hey, get your ass up, agent,” echoing in Santi’s exasperated – yet amused – tone. You blink open your eyes, tilt back your head, and see both him and Tom glaring down at you as they stand – bent awkwardly from the low ceiling of the plane – in the row behind. “Everybody else is already lone gone, bonita. Get your ass off the plane.”

Your brow furrows and your middle finger rises steadily upward, but somehow the rest of your body feels too heavy to move and it takes a kindhearted gentleman in a tattered old ballcap to ease you to your feet and out into the aisle.

“The second one was a mistake,” you mutter wearily as you nearly faceplant into Frankie’s chest.

“Yeah,” comes from behind in an annoyed scoff as Santiago reaches over to collect your bag from beneath the seat. “I’m confiscating your Xanax.”

The ride to the run-down inn and resort – far from the city and cheap as all hell – passes in a blur. But by the time you arrive and check into your little bungalow, you’re feeling, if not refreshed, at least awake.

Everyone agrees to meet up at the tiny restaurant at the edge of the grounds in about twenty minutes, just long enough for a quick rinse and wardrobe change. And somehow you manage to be the first one there, allowing you the opportunity to have a quick chat with the bartender – which results in a free, giant fruity concoction – before settling into a table in the corner. You let out a relaxed sigh and breathe back in the humid jungle air, realizing only in this very moment that a part of you actually missed this place. That a part of you might just think of the Amazon as home. You glance around, take note of your surroundings – as you always do, always have done, even before your law enforcement training – and begin to watch the rather handsy young couple at the bar as they giggle and swoon.

It isn’t long before Benny jogs up behind you and drops into the seat on your right. He sets down a fruity drink that looks suspiciously like yours, making you wonder if the bartender treats all tourists to a free, sugar-fueled beverage and perhaps your flirting earned you nothing at all. But as the others meander in and join you, all with mere sweating bottles of beer in their hands, you decide instead that you and Ben must just be the most special of the bunch.

Of course, that notion begins to chafe once Benny turns to you with a wicked look in his eye and pulls his phone from his pocket, nonchalantly swiping though a parade of terrible photos with an all-too delighted smile. The first few show you passed out on Frankie on the plane, mouth gaping wide as you spill drool into his shirt. “Oh, God!” you gasp, only just now recalling the brief moment of near lucidity from earlier in the day. “You took pictures?!”

You give him a quick slap and try to grab the cell from his hand only to have him rear back and laugh out, “Wait, wait, these are my favorites,” before scrolling through the next dozen or so, each picture showing a steady progression of your drowsy head falling from Will’s shoulder down to his lap as the two of you sat in the back on the drive in from the airport.

“You talk in your sleep,” Will states plainly from across the table, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

You cock your head suspiciously at him, gaze narrowing. “Liar,” you accuse despite knowing full well that it’s true.

The corner of his mouth quirks into a crooked grin. “Something about… sliding down rainbows?”

“Ooooh,” you drawl out, nodding your head. “Yeah, that makes sense. Frankie kept talking to me about Care Bears on the flight in.”

The man to your left takes a steady gulp from his beer, a swallow so huge it makes you think he’d been navigating the desert all day, desperate for a drink. “You were barely conscious for more than five minutes on that flight. You don’t have a clue what I talked to you about.”

“Better not have been anything dirty,” Santiago interjects pointedly.

You turn and pin Frankie down with an intent yet amused stare. “I definitely remember something about playing in the clouds.”

“Naked?” Ben asks as he jostles your other side with his elbow.

“Ahora, eso seria realmente el cielo,” Frankie mutters softly, ducking further beneath the bill of his hat and trying desperately not to laugh as you level him with an astounded glare.

By the time the food comes, your table has managed to outdo the small group of college students in the corner in terms of noise, filling the only partially walled-in establishment with a relaxed sort of banter and the occasional booming laughter. Benny continues his jokes and playful ribbing, eagerly pulling you in to blend with his tightknit group. Will and Frankie both remain mostly quiet, despite their comfortable-looking grins and occasional bursts of laughter.

Tom’s demeanor is similar, perhaps a bit less relaxed, a bit more guarded. Even after claiming to be cool with your presence on this little escapade, he’s anything but warm and welcoming to you. It doesn’t escape your notice that he continues to pull Santi aside to whisper what you can only assume are either covert sweet nothings or – far more likely – mission-related thoughts and plans that he still doesn’t quite trust you with. You shrug it off… it’s fine, really. You’ve had to slip into other cliques and clusters before, wedge yourself into a special operations task force or try to integrate in with local police to gain access to intel. This wasn’t your first rodeo. And frankly, compared to the Federales in Juarez, all of these guys had welcomed you into the fold with wide-open arms.

It isn’t long – or it doesn’t feel like long, anyway – before Santi rises and tells everyone that he’s heading to bed. A shit-eating grin passes over his face as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, familiar looking pill bottle. He shakes the remaining Xanax around and states simply, “For once, I’m actually gonna sleep great.”

Tom follows hot on his heels after issuing out – in a tone equal parts dad and captain – “We’re up at 0500 and I don’t want any of you to be dragging ass.” Everyone nods their assent, but the moment he and Santi are out the door, Ben promptly buys another round and the four of you who remain settle into a new rhythm that lasts until the tiny restaurant and bar finally shoos you out so they can close for the night.

The lot of you wander the grounds of the inn for a bit after that, indulging in the cool breeze after hours of sweltering heat, and continuing to laugh and talk. But as you make it back to the bungalows, the brothers break away, Ben disappearing into his room without so much as a grunt of goodbye, and Will raising a pointed finger high and telling you and Frankie both to, “Get the hell away from these mosquitos and go get some sleep. Otherwise, Redfly’ll be raining down shit on everyone in the morning.”

But you’re now more awake than you’ve been all day, sated from a too-large dinner and positively sloshing with alcohol, well-rested after your many-hours-long nap during your travels, and you just can’t seem to make yourself shut up, not even once you arrive at your door.

And Frankie seems to welcome it, listening intently as you babble on, filling the gaps with assertions of his own. Now that Ben’s no longer around to monopolize the conversation, you and Frankie develop an easy back and forth, the dialog taking on a soft, steady, even cadence. You talk about everything, the two of you. About Mexico, because you spent nearly four years in different parts of the country, and he still has family in a few of those areas. And you talk about all the places you’ve been, you with your sprawling career and general lust for travel – Road trips are more my thing though… and camping, hiking… Have you ever been through Bryce Cannon? God’s country. – and Frankie with his time in the military and more recent contract work – Yeah, nature’s great and all, but have you walked through the bazars in Marrakesh? Unbelievable. Though I wouldn’t say no to a day of fishing off the Gulf.

You talk about Santiago, each sharing stories of the man who had only just become a trusted colleague and friend for you over these last few years, but had been one of Frankie’s most beloved people for well over a decade. And that leads you into asking about the other guys too, each of whom you find yourself getting to know better and better from even just the few stories he shares as you two recline back into the railing of the bungalow’s small porch. He even manages to get you comfortable enough to share some stories about your own comrades over the years, the good, the bad, and the ugly… and the long-time partner who bled out in your arms following a bust outside of Albuquerque. Though you don’t spend much time on that, eager to move on almost the moment that your partner’s name passes through your lips.

The look on his face, though – as you share those sparse details from that most awful day – tells you immediately that Frankie understands exactly what it’s like to lose a partner, a brother in arms. And while that isn’t a surprise in the least – he had just gotten through telling you that he spent fifteen years in the special forces after all – that knowledge does cause you to feel a whole new pull. It makes you scoot a bit closer, makes you drop your hand easily atop his, your sweaty palm gliding along his warm skin before he reciprocates by slowly turning in your grasp and twining his fingers with yours.

“So,” he breathes out after a moment. “You’ve been out here for… three years?”

You nod, a soft smile blooming as you think about this bizarre and stunning corner of the world. “About that.”

His gaze travels out into the lush jungle located just beyond the row of bungalows, small porchlights illuminating just enough of the canopy to remind you both of where you are. “What’s the city like?” he asks after a beat.

“It’s nice,” you rush out. “Small, relaxed…” Your lips purse together as you think on what to say, how to describe this place that has been your home for three years now. “Lot more tourists than you might think. It’s funny, even the people who live here – in the city at least – a lot of them are transplants from Bogota.” You give a nonchalant shrug – “The streets flood a lot. That’s not always fun.” – and relish the deep chuckle emanating from the man by your side. “There’s a legend about how it got its name,” you say suddenly. “I’ve never really gotten any details about it, but supposedly a Colombian soldier fell in love with an Amerindian woman…”

“Leticia,” he supplies, the name slipping from his tongue in a perfectly accented drawl, falling out into the dark night in a soft, low rumble.

You nod. “And he named the city after her.”

Frankie huffs out a small laugh, a light and airy rumble. His gaze continues to wander, dark eyes shifting along the barely perceivable horizon. “Must’ve been a hell of a lady,” he mutters absently, giving your fingers a squeeze.

You watch him closely, his features soft and relaxed in the low light, the slightest hint of a smile still riding his lips. “Yeah. Must’ve been.”

Taglist:

@tweedlydumbtweedlydoo @icanbeyourjedi @greeneyedblondie44 @mrscrain-x7 @kyjoraven@elephants-are-a-thing @nakhudanyx

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 34

AO3

Taglist: @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised

Previous Chapter: Chapter 33

Next Chapter: To be posted

Magic was everywhere in the land of the thief of souls. It was different than the land in between. The land in between was weaker, but wilder. Magic floated into its own direction, taking the shape it desired and bending to Lucie’s will with relative ease.

Magic in the realm of the thief was gripped by a firm hand, forced into subjugation by a powerful force, the thief itself. But walking through this land, Lucie had learnt a secret. Just like Lucie herself, magic didn’t like to be controlled. It liked to roam free, it liked chaos.

She could sense the thief. He kept all magic in an iron grip. But he did not belong here, he never had, and although he’d subjugated the magic, it didn’t love him and didn’t want him. Lucie could use that to her advantage. If she lost, the magic would continue to be kept under his grip. If she won, it would be free again. The magic favored her. The thief must have found this place a long time ago and made his home here, collecting souls for his growth and his power, but he did not belong here.

‘He was here when I saw him,’ Alastair said, pointing at one of the corridors.

Lucie shook her head. ‘No, I can feel him. He’s somewhere in that direction.’

Lucie followed her senses until they made it into the courtyard, where a man was sitting on a bench, in conversation with a soul. She guessed she should have expected a soul would be there too, but it would be alright. None of them really wanted to be here, did they? Even if they collaborated with him, or sought to improve their own fate. She wondered how many she could turn against him.

He was wearing his antlers right now, looked a lot like the monster from her dreams, but his eyes were normal and if it weren’t for the antlers he might have looked like an ordinary mortal man. Someone who’d come here because he wanted to never die and gain immeasurable power, yes, but mortal.

‘I was wondering when you’d come here to challenge me, Lucie,’ the thief said with a grin. ‘Just like your mother. You need not worry, I’m still sealed. But this is my realm, and I have the power here.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ Lucie hissed.

Cordelia drew her sword, Alastair had his dagger gripped tightly, ready to attack. Thomas didn’t have any weapons, and Lucie still wondered if they should have left him outside.

‘Alastair, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you here so soon,’ the thief added. ‘You have found your love, and not much time left to save him. So much for loyalty, I guess.’

‘Why set him free and die, when killing you would set us both free?’ Alastair asked, with that wicked smile Lucie remembered from school.

‘We made a deal, Alastair. You promised me your soul.’

‘I promised you my soul, yes. But not my loyalty. Our deal doesn’t hold if you’re dead. None of them do.’

The thief was caught off guard by Alastair’s betrayal and Cordelia took the opportunity to run at him with her sword.

‘Stop her!’ the thief yelled at the female soul.

The soul jumped up, putting herself in front of Cordelia. She didn’t carry any weapons, and Cordelia easily slashed her down. She didn’t appear hurt, there was no blood, nothing, yet she fell to the floor.

‘Get back up!’ the thief yelled at her and she did.

Lucie got a sense of how this worked. The souls couldn’t die, they were already dead, but cortana did weaken them and push them out of the way. The thief had to command them to give them new energy, and it was Lucie’s turn to command the souls, to grip at his source of power and take it away. She opened her bag and snatched a piece of dextrose from her bag, shoving it into her mouth. She would need every bit of energy she could get.

‘I command you to stand down,’ she yelled at the ghost.

The soul obeyed, standing awkwardly, unable to move. She wasn’t sure how long she could on, but it seemed like the thief had given up on this soul. Instead, he jumped out of the way from Cordelia’s attack and held up his arms in the sky.

Souls came barging in, so many of them. They all moved in Cordelia’s direction.

‘Stop that!’ Lucie yelled. ‘Do not attack Cordelia.’

‘I am your master!’ the thief yelled back.

Lucie could feel his power, and fought against it. He was strong, but she had the will of the souls on her side. She could promise them freedom. She guessed at this point some of them did not understand what that would mean. Lucie didn’t either, but she was certain it would be better than this. Perhaps they would be reunited with loved ones who had died a long time ago, perhaps they would get another chance at life. To many of them, it didn’t matter. Lucie offered hope for something better, and that gave her the upper hand when trying to control the ghosts.

It was draining, more than Lucie could imagine, and she began to understand why her mother had slept for a 130 years after sealing the thief. She reached for another piece of dextrose. It worked, if only a little. It was so tempting to just let go, to give up and acknowledge there was only so much she could do, but as long as she held back the souls, Cordelia stood a chance. Watching him jump out of Cordelia’s reach, using the occasional soul as a human shield made Lucie suspect that while his magic was extra ordinary, he was not trained in combat.

Would he be able to disappear, could he travel across his realm? She’d thought she’d seen Tatiana teleport, but really she just traveled between the different realms. If she traveled someplace else it looked like she disappeared, but she couldn’t travel to different spots on the same plane. Could the thief? Lucie suspected he could, that if he lost this fight he would run before Cordelia could deliver the killing blow.

Lucie wouldn’t let that happen. She opened her bottle of too sweet lemonade and drank half of it before picturing a wall of power, trapping them all in the courtyard. She didn’t doubt the thief would be able to break it down eventually, but if he tried then he would give up on the ghosts and Cordelia could kill him. Lucie had to let go of them for a moment, to build her magic wall. No one would enter, no one would leave, at least as long as her wall lasted. The ghosts were back under the thief’s control and attacked Cordelia with skill and vehemence the thief himself did not possess.

Thomas and Alastair were fighting too, but from this distance Lucie couldn’t be sure they were helping Cordelia, or being controlled themselves. Would it make a difference that Alastair wasn’t his yet? Lucie couldn’t be sure, she didn’t know what was happening exactly. Instead, she focused on her wall, finishing it so the thief would not break it down in time, so Cordelia could kill him.

Cordelia was fighting the souls, striking them back, but there were too many of them. It left her no opening to go for the thief. Lucie would have to win those souls back soon.

***

Cordelia didn’t know why Lucie had lost control of the ghosts. She assumed she must have lost control, which meant there was no time to lose. Alastair was fighting her too, but she could tell he was holding back. He had not drawn his dagger against her.

‘He can control me,’ Alastair fought to say. ‘Didn’t realize that would happen so soon.’

The thief laughed. ‘You fool. You’re mine. You were mine the moment you made that deal. You never would have found your way out, and now you won’t save your loved one either.’

Cordelia couldn’t reach the thief protected by too many souls. That was the problem, all of the souls were decent fighters, and Cordelia had to fight with all she had to hold them off. They didn’t stay down long. The thief had to revive them, but he could. They were dead, of course. You couldn’t kill something that was already dead. She could see her brother fighting to restrain himself, a sight that filled her with rage.

‘He’s not yours!’ she yelled at the thief. ‘He’s mine! He’s mine!’

The thief only laughed. ‘He gave himself to me. He chose his fate, now it’s time I sealed yours.’

The souls slowed their pace, many gave up the battle, no longer under his control. Cordelia could fight the remaining few off. Lucie was back at it, with a newfound determination to keep the souls away from her. The thief was straining against her, and the circle of souls protecting him was still there, but many of the souls stood still, aimless. Alastair grinned, dagger in hand, as he attacked the souls protecting the thief. He wasn’t fast enough on his own, the souls regained their position faster than he could cut them down, but if Cordelia helped him they could win.

She ran to Alastair, to the circle of souls he could not keep up with, and started slashing at the souls, paving a way for Alastair to run through, lashing out at the thief of souls with all he had. One of the souls grabbed Alastair, pulling him back, but Cordelia slashed at the being until it was forced to let go, dragging Alastair’s dagger along with it.

Her brother didn’t have the time to pick it back up, instead he attacked the thief himself, experienced in hand to hand combat as well. He wouldn’t kill the thief this way, but Cordelia understood what he was trying to do. She had the sword, she could kill him.

Something odd happened. Cordelia couldn’t be sure what it was. He disappeared for a second before appearing right in the same spot, a distraught expression on his face. What was he trying to do? He had failed at something, hadn’t he?

Cordelia moved forward, this was her chance. Alastair pushed him onto the ground. The thief struggled against him, and then he changed. A moment later she was faced with two Alastairs, fighting each other, rolling on the ground. The thief not only looked like Alastair, he fought like him too, and it didn’t take long for Cordelia to lose track of which was which.

‘Kill him, Cordelia!’ one of the two called to her.

It was Alastair’s voice, it sounded like him. But could she be sure?

‘No, kill the other one. That’s not me!’ the other Alastair called at her.

She couldn’t go by voice then, it was the same. He mimicked Alastair so well… A question, she needed to ask him a question only the real Alastair could answer. The thief couldn’t know his secrets, could he?

‘Hurry up, Layla!’ one of the two Alastairs yelled.

Layla… Would the thief know? Alastair called her that often, theoretically he could know… One of the two was holding the dagger, the second holding it off where everything he had. One had picked it up from the ground then, but was it Alastair or the thief.

‘How can I tell which one is real?’ Cordelia yelled, sword ready to attack when she realized which one she’d have to kill. Knowing that if she chose wrong, she might kill her own brother. She didn’t know what would happen, it was his soul but not his body, but it was not a risk she was willing to take.

‘The thief wouldn’t know about my calling you Layla,’ the one holding the dagger yelled.

‘Of course he does,’ the one lying on the ground, fighting him off yelled. He tried to wrestle the dagger away from the other one, but they seemed so evenly matched. It was as if the thief hadn’t just shifted into Alastair, he had become him. ‘M��mãn gave you that nickname. When you were five, you were sick with pneumonia and had to stay in the hospital. Mâmân and I stayed with you, and we read you from Layla and Majnun. You loved it so much…’ Alastair hit the other one in the face in an attempt to stop the attack from the one pinning him to the ground.

The other Alastair continued the story. ‘You wanted to be Layla then. So we called you that, and we have for years. Well, mâmân saves it for special occasions, but for me it became a habit to call you Layla.’

This wasn’t working. The thief somehow had found a way into Alastair’s mind, and whatever she asked, they would both give her the same answer.

‘He didn’t shift. He became me!’ the Alastair underneath called. ‘Kill him now, Layla!’

Cordelia hesitated. ‘Lucie, Thomas! What do I do? Who do I kill?’

‘Can’t help you, Daisy!’ Lucie yelled. ‘And I can’t hold off the souls much longer. They’re too close together to follow the energy, I can’t tell which one is the thief. You have to make a decision.’

Thomas came to stand beside her. ‘They’re not the same exactly. Almost, but not quite. Like with old movies where you can see the lines of the special effects.’

Cordelia shook her head. ‘I don’t see a thing.’

‘I could see through illusions before. This is not an illusion exactly, but there are traces of the original thief there. I think it’s my sight. The real Alastair is the one being pinned down right now, the one who doesn’t have the dagger. The one holding him down is the thief.’

Cordelia hesitated. ‘Thomas, I need you to be absolutely sure.’

‘He’s a good shapeshifter, but not good enough. There’s a shadow of his antlers. Trust me.’

‘How do I know he’s not making you say that?’ Cordelia asked.

‘Listen to him, Daisy!’ Lucie shouted. ‘Thomas is under my control. And hurry, I’m all out of sweets and I cannot hold on.’

Cordelia didn’t hesitate anymore, she ran to her brother and pushed the thief off of him. He shifted back into his own shape, a man with antlers and glowing red eyes.

‘I always did underestimate the sight,’ he hissed. ‘Oh well. I know your secrets now, Layla.’

The way he called her Layla made Cordelia’s stomach twist. He had no right.

‘It’s a dark place, your brother’s mind. I quite like it. And I know how you fight now.’

Cordelia swung cortana at him, but he jumped out of the way in a move she and Alastair had often practiced together. Being her brother, even if only temporary, had taught him something about how she fought, and how to fight himself.

One of the souls attacked her from behind. Cordelia only realized when Alastair stabbed it with his dagger. He’d gotten it back just in time. The thief was unarmed now, but Lucie’s control was slipping. Now or never.

Cordelia trusted Alastair to keep any remaining souls out of her way and she ran for him. He wouldn’t escape this time, he wouldn’t jump out of the way. She knew what Alastair would have done, and was prepared for the thief to do the same. She didn’t let him, cutting off his escape route and changing the direction of her sword at the last minute, slashing the sword through his arm and then his chest.

He looked surprisingly human as he fell, red blood gushing out, but not for long. Not all monsters were like that. Her father had told her stories of black blood, or pale, watery blood. The thief had been mortal once. This place had changed him, sustained him for much longer than should have been possible. It ended so easily.

He was dead before he hit the ground. As he fell, something changed in the air. Cordelia couldn’t put her finger on it, but the realm had changed. She turned around, walked to Lucie, Alastair and Thomas. Lucie was breathing hard, leaning against the wall.

‘You did it. He’s dead, and the realm is free.’

Cordelia frowned. ‘The souls are still here. How do we let them go?’

‘That is not for you to worry about.’

Cordelia did not recognize the voice behind her. It rose from underneath the ground, chains shattering as it formed. A man, wearing dark robes, face obscured by a hood, and carrying a scythe.

‘A reaper,’ Alastair whispered. ‘He kept a reaper here.’

‘When so many souls did not return from here, I went to investigate. He caught me by surprise, and my imprisonment allowed him to keep collecting souls unbothered. Now that he’s dead, I am free and I can bring these souls over.’

‘To the other side?’ Lucie asked.

‘You may control the dead on this side, no mortal can know what lies beyond,’ the reaper said. ‘That is a secret kept by my kind. You will all learn when your times come, but none of you are among the dead. Although two of you are close.’

‘What is this place?’ Thomas asked. ‘It wasn’t always his world, was it?’

‘It is a place to forget,’ the reaper said. ‘Souls who struggle to move on may remain on earth, and many do for some time, but many come here. This place helps them forget, to adapt to what they need to be. The living make their way here every once in a while. That is rare, but normal. They return with power, forever changed. Your power will grow from this experience, Lucie. And it is quite magnificent already. As for the rest of you, I cannot tell what this realm will do to you. For too long the man you knew as the thief of souls kept this land’s magic in an iron grip, distributing it as he saw fit. Now it roams free. All of you will be able to return here when you wish. But be careful with how long you stay. It can be that years pass while you are here, time is always difficult.’

‘That’s how the thief became immortal, wasn’t it? He just stayed here,’ Lucie said.

‘He became one with the magic of this place, keeping it all in his control. It wasn’t meant to be that way. Now that I am free, it won’t be controlled like that again. You must return home. Two of you are here with their soul only while the body lives, but its state is fragile. You might still die. Thank you for freeing me, the reapers will recognize you all as heroes.’

‘What of the creatures of this realm?’ Lucie asked. ‘They have attacked us in the past.’

‘They were under his control. Now they’re not. They are wild creatures, and can be dangerous, but they will not spill into your world as easily. You should be safe.’

‘So the world won’t need a hero anymore?’ Cordelia asked.

The reaper’s face was grim. ‘The world will always have use for a hero. This is not the only evil, nor the only place where dangerous creatures come from. Now go home, before it is too late.’

[dimensionwriter]

100 Days

Part One

Alien x Reader

Warning: None

Word Count: 1947

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Okay so this is just an experiment in a way. So just remember to LIKE, COMMENT and REBLOG. I'll appreciate it.

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The creature floated in front of you in a giant alien containment. The container was 12 feet wide and 10 feet tall. The liquid that filled it was enriched with a substance that would allow the creature to continue to thrive even while being out of it's native world.

"How is experiment 337?" A deep voice buzzed in your ear. You jumped at the intrusive noise that disturbed the silence in the room. You sometimes forget that this is actually a job.

"Still unconscious, sir," you reported walking around the containment to look at it's sleeping form.

The creature had grayish blue skin that turned black once it reached it's appendages. It was bipedal with the legs thick and muscular. They had a set of arms that extended from it's shoulder, similars to a human. A second and third set of arms came from their spine and wrapped forward. A thick tail came from it's back and had a length of 3 feet and 2 inches.

"The vitals?" The voice demanded. You held in a sigh and walked over to the computer showing all the vitals. The things on the screen was a lot more complicated than that of a human.

"Fine, I believe. Though, the second heart has slowed down a lot in the last hour. Maybe get one of the doctors to come up here to check them out," you stated sliding through the chart the computer made on the creature's health. You guys didn't know how their normal health looked, so you just take the health they come in as normal and report any change in it.

"Damn thing might be trying to die on us. Well, it's not like it's giving us much information while it's unconscious, so might be a good thing." He ended it with a bark of laughter. You didn't join him as you rolled your eyes at him. He truly didn't have any patience. Some of the creatures that get sent here are here for months before they even begin to show some signs of responsiveness.

"Okay, sir. Please send that doctor in here," you quickly said before tapping your ear piece. You just had to get the boss that's the worse. He does not care for these creatures at all.

"You requested me," a montone voice asked. You turned around to see your vector's doctor walking in. They had a heavy set of bags under their eyes that showed how busy they were.

"Yeah, experiment 337's second heart rate seem to have slowed down," you explain pulling up the chart to show them. They leaned over your shoulder to look at them.

"I'll check on them. You can start your lunch break if you would like," they said looking over at you with a raised eyebrow. You pulled your lab coat back to look at your watch. Your break was supposed to start 20 minutes ago.

"Thanks. You can write anything you find in the notes under Experiment 337. I will see them there if you leave before I'm back," you rambled running around to grab your stuff. It's protocol to leave none of your things behind since you don't know what these creatures can do.

You took off your lab jacket and threw it in the waste bin. Glancing at the doctor, you could already see they were working on the creature. Hopefully nothing is wrong with them.

An hour later, you scan your ID at the door. It open slowly allowing you to see the empty room. Well except for the container with all the machinery hooked up to it. The doctor seem to be gone.

You threw your stuff on the free table and walked over to the metal closet. Inside of here were fresh and sterlized lab coats. There was also some gloves, but that was used if you could touch your experiment. And since yours were unconscious at the moment, it meant that you wouldn't be making any contact for a while.

"Examiner!" Someone yelled causing you to jump. You spun around towards the sound to see the doctor in the container. Their eyes were widen in panic as they struggled in the liquid.

"What? How?!" You stumbled while running to the container. You went to the computer to pull up the container's system. You have ot get them out.

"The creature. He woke up in the middle of me checking on him and he got out. I tried to push the panic alarm, but he sealed me in here. Hurry, get me out!" Their voice yelled out in fear. You stopped typing and turned slowly to the doctor.

"I noticed you said 'he' a lot. We usually say an alien is a they," you said lifting an eyebrow at the 'doctor'. They stopped thrashing and just floated. Since they weren't moving, you could see all the things hooked into them. No alien trying to escape would take the time to stick all those things into a person.

"Hmm, I thought I would identify closest to a male on this planet." The doctor's voice dropped two octaves causing your eyes to widen.

"You can shape shift," you screamed happily running to the glass. He looked exactly like the doctor. He even copied the mole hidden under their hair.

"What about it? You can't," he teased you raising a single eyebrow. It felt weird seeing the doctor, but having the actions and voice be so different.

"Can you please change? I have plenty of questions I want to ask you," you said going back to the computer. You closed the coding for the containment and pulled up the notes on this creature.

"Is this better, babe?" Your fingers froze as you turned your head slowly to the right. The creature was pressed against the glass closest to you. But instead of seeing an alien, you saw yourself.

"What's wrong, cat got your tongue?" The creature teased in your voice. A giant smirk slipped onto your face that looked so unnatural on you. "Well, I guess it's more like I have your tongue."

Laughter came out of your mouth as the creature started floating around. This felt weird. Seeing yourself do all these things while you are standing here really felt like whipflash.

"Wonder what's under here," he sung out before grabbing the front of the shirt. He pulled it away and started peaking around.

"Hey, stop that," you yelled banging on the glass. Deep laughter came from his, well yours, lips as he swam back over to the edge of the glass.

"Don't worry darling." He pulled the shirt down to reveal that underneath was his greyish blue skin. It faded from your skin into his as it passed the collar. "I can't turn into something I don't know."

You quickly turned to the computer and started typing in shapeshifter into his records. Putting a subsection underneath, you added that he can't shift into something he doesn't know or can't see.

"Is there anything else you cant do?" You asked looking over at him. Alien-you leaned back in the liquid and tapped his chin.

"I guess stop being so good looking," he grumbled out. You bit your lip as you thought of a perfect joke. It would be unprofessional to joke around with him, but you have heard other examiner say that they joke and play around with theirs.

"You do look like me, so I will have to agree with you on that statement." His mouth dropped open as soft stutters of laughter escaped. He closed it and rolled his tongue along his teeth.

Slowly, your skin started to turn into that grayish blue until your entire body started to contort. Your clothes turned to ashes before disappearing in the liquid. Jutting his head back, the skull seem to be shifting underneath as it became sharper and fuller.

"I think this looks a little a better," he purred pressing a clawed hand on the glass. He was back to his original form except this time clothed.

A skin tight black material covered from his knees to the peak of his neck, but it didn't cover any of his arms. It kind of reminded you of an old style swim suit in a way, very basic but covered all necessary things.

"So, you can produce clothing on yourself?" You asked thinking of how he perfectly replicated the clothes you were wearing. You leaned over to the computer and typed that in.

"Well, would you like for me to be butt naked in this container?" You stopped typing as you thought it over. It would help with getting data over everything and that increases chance for experiments. "I'm not liking that silence. You pervert."

Embarrassment encased your body as you shook your head trying to rid yourself of the accusation. "No, I was looking at it from a scientific standpoint. I promise."

He swam up and peaked over the top of the glass, so he was starring down at you. His black eyes glimmered with amusement as he threw a swift wink at you. "You can call it whatever you want, baby."

Your jaw dropped in shock at what you assumed was his flirtatious comment. What type of alien were you assigned to examine?

"I-" luckily you were cut off by a voice in your ear interrupting you. You had to stop yourself from letting out a groan as that annoying voice spoke.

"Don't forget we have a required seminar in 39 minutes. Go ahead and put your alien into hibernation and report all vitals before leaving." You rolled your eyes as you remember those dumb seminars. You really didn't want to go.

"Did I blow your mind, buttercup? Guess you imagine what is under my this suit." You zoned back into your environment as you looked back at the alien. Half of his upper body was tilting out of the container at you. His second and third set of arms slowly kept him afloat.

"Sadly, no. I have to put you to sleep now," you commented walking over to the computer. You quickly wrote in the notes that he seems to be made for swimming.

"But if I'm asleep, I can't see that beautiful face of yours," he whined out splashing his tail behind him. Luckily, none of it feel over.

"Don't worry, you can see me in your dreams," you joked typing in the code to send in the sleeping medicine. Blue liquid flowed from the machine and towards the IV stuck into him.

"You didn't even give me your name or give me a name." You tilted your head in confusion at the last statement. Why would you give him a name?

His eyes looked down at the blue liquid as it started going into him. He let out a shaky breath and dropped down into the container. His body slowly sank to the bottom where he leaned against the corner of the container.

You walked towards the glass and gently placed your hand on it. He was blinking slowly at you as he tried to fight the medicine. But you knew in ten seconds, he would be out.

"How about I call you Shark?" You joked looking at his grey skin. Bubbles floated out of his mouth from his laughter. His head plopped against the wall as his eyes shut.

"It's a good thing you cute or I would be offended by that." Silence followed as his breathing even out. The rest of his body sunk down into the floor.

Work was about to get a lot more exciting with him around. Maybe you could actually start looking forward to this.

*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\

So this is going to be an ongoing stories. I want to try to use some stories prompt or word prompts for this as practice for my writing. Also, I want to try to write a flirty character instead of a soft blushy one like usual. So this entire thing is a giant experiment for me. So leave a comment and let me know what you think.💜💜💜💜💜

[ellewritesathing]

Infernal VII

Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.

Word-count: 3.3k+

Masterlist Prev. | Part 7

A/N: we’re back witches

The Shores of Sorrow was never meant to be a peaceful place. It was perfectly designed to torture lost souls for eternity, to damn them to an existence where they are forgotten by all except the high tides that mercilessly embraced them. Perfectly designed for torment, and yet you felt nothing but peace as the waves washed over your feet and the sun clung to the horizon … that is, until you sensed the demon behind you. 

With a quick exhale, you summoned the Harpe and let it guide your muscles to cut down your attacker as you turned. Though it had been clumsy and cumbersome when Caliban had first given it to you, you’d grown used to the weight of the sword and learned the necessity of the sickle. The Harpe was an extension of yourself. 

“Careful, love.” Caliban wielded his smile as dangerously as you wielded the Harpe. He’d jumped out of the way of your blow, but his The Doors t-shirt was too slow. The Harpe tore through the right side of his shirt, barely missing his skin. “You could hurt someone like that.” 

Tilting your head to the side and leveling your sword at him, you said, “That’s kind of the point, babe. Sorry about your shirt though.” 

Caliban looked at the Harpe for a moment before smiling to himself and stepping backward. Kneeling down and sinking his hands into the sand, he said, “I think it suits me better this way, don’t you?” He rose with twin obsidian daggers.

“I think it would look a lot better if you weren’t threatening me.”

“I’m not threatening you. I’d like to see what those malignants have taught you.”

“Oh, would you now?” 

Grinning, Caliban twirled the daggers and struck out. He was fast, but you’d been trained to be faster. 

You pulled the Harpe in to block the dagger headed for your chest and swiped to knock it to one side. Caliban turned into the movement so as not to lose the blade. He circled you with a dangerous smile, searching for a weak spot. You knew he’d found one when he tossed one of the daggers in the air and caught it with an overhand grip. Yet his determination still surprised you when he lunged and aimed a strike at your side. 

Dropping the Harpe, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer - ignoring the stinging in your side to make a play for the other dagger. Caliban laughed at the clumsy attempt until you kneed him in the gut. 

Twisting out of his hold, you summoned the Harpe and readied yourself for the next attack. For a while, Caliban moved in insufferable silence, but soon he started throwing witticisms and critiques your way as well. As distracting as the words were, they kept you from overthinking. Your moves were smoother, hits were harder, and strikes quicker. Still, you were restrained; no matter how easy it would have been to lean into the Harpe’s viciousness, you couldn’t risk hurting Caliban. 

The sparring only stopped once you’d knocked each other to the ground, a dagger pressed to your ribcage and the Harpe at Caliban’s throat. You were frozen, the never-setting sun washing his features in pale pink light and contrasting the flecks of gold in his eye. He smiled. 

“If this were a real fight-” he pulled the dagger back to twirl around his index finger before throwing it into the sand, “I would have cut out your heart by now.” 

“If this were a real fight-” you leaned down slightly, applying ever so much more pressure to the Harpe “-I would have summoned Hellfire in your lungs and watched you burn alive by now.” 

With a dangerous smile of your own, you pulled the Harpe back and let it vanish as you rolled over to a seat. The sun hung ambivalently on the horizon, blanketed in clouds. With the water slowly washing the shore, you could almost forget the souls of the damned drowning further out to sea. 

As you sighed, Caliban rolled on his side to face you, head cradled in his hand. He touched your elbow and ran his index finger along your arm as he said, “Summoning Hellfire is new. Last week you just threatened to stop my heart.” 

Truth be told, you couldn’t have stopped his heart even if you wanted you. You’d learned to master many of the gifts Lilith had given you, but telekinesis always gave you a nasty headache. “Keeping track of my powers in case I’ll follow through one of these days?” you asked, turning to him with an easy smile. You reached over and pushed some of his hair behind his ear. 

Catching your hand with his, Caliban said, “Not at all.” Carefully, deliberately, he ran his thumb across the outside of your hand, connecting the scars scattered along your skin. “I won’t mind if you do, but I only ask in a vain attempt to determine when Lilith will be satisfied with your training.” 

You choked out a laugh. “Lilith is never going to be satisfied with my training.” Rolling your eyes, you moved from your seat to lie in the sand. You stared at the clouds ahead, darker than you’d ever seen in Hell. “Every time I get the hang of one ability, she comes up with some fresh punishment. I’m hoping she’ll chill out once my replacement is born.” 

Caliban was quiet. He looked at you with the same curious, indecipherable expression he’d used when you met on the Shores of Sorrow; jaw clenched, mouth barely upturned, and eyes searching. You asked what he was searching for.

“I was wondering where exactly I fit in the grand plan,” he said.

“Right next to me?” He didn’t seem convinced. You reached for his hand again. “Honestly, I don’t know where I fit into the plan either, but I do know they’re showing all the Alien movies at the Paramount this Friday. Maybe you could-”

A drop of rain landed on your face, but when you wiped it away, your hand was smeared black. You bolted upright, and the world around you shook. 

“Caliban, what’s happening?”

“Someone’s trying to wake you, but you have to be careful-”

Electricity cracked through your skull, the pain so overwhelming that you didn’t register the tightness in your chest at first. Every muscle in your body ached, cramping from the sudden tension. You’d only experienced this kind of pain your first time using dream manipulation, when Lilith purposely pulled you out too suddenly to teach you the dangers of the waking world. 

Lilith wasn’t the one who woke you this time. The white spots faded from your vision to give way to your dad, frantic and shaking you. By the time your hearing came back, he'd moved to the window. He rocked on his heels as he peered between your curtains. His words were incomprehensible. 

“Dad, what’s wrong?” 

Your dad turned his whole body to look at you. He blinked twice, slowly, before saying, “Oh, good. You’re awake. All the lights are out.” 

Gingerly, you tested your muscles before trying to sit up. Everything still hurt, but you could move. “Did you try messing with the breaker?” 

“I was an English major,” he told you seriously. 

You rolled your eyes, thankful that he was at least lucid enough to crack a joke. He’d gotten better when Lilith was still coming around, but she stopped visiting almost as soon as she started. “I’ll go see if it’s affecting anyone else or just us.” 

Crawling out of bed, you waited for the world to come into focus before making your way through the house to the breaker in the garage. You were just about to open the door when the toaster dinged behind you. It was working perfectly. The fridge was cool inside, even if the light wasn’t working. The only flaw you could find with any of the appliances you checked was the lack of light. 

With a shudder, you told your dad that you were going to Sabrina’s. 

He’d seemed completely himself since you woke up, but now he looked at you with a glassy expression that you knew all too well. Instead of telling you to be careful or that he’d see you soon or that he loved you, he said, “The instruments of darkness tell us truths.” 

“Right,” you said with a sigh. You grabbed your jacket from the back of the chair. “I’ll keep that mind.”

---

One thing that you never understood about the Spellmans was that they never locked their doors. You understood now that a lock couldn’t keep out the threats they faced and there was no need to keep out their friends, but you still smiled to yourself as you let yourself in through the backdoor. Once inside, you found Sabrina, Ambrose, Nick, and Prudence huddled around the breakfast table as Ambrose warned them against something he called the eldritch terrors. 

He told them to imagine a world without light, just perpetual darkness. Chaos would follow, and eventually so would death. You shuddered at the dark clouds in your dreams. “Worse comes to worst,” he said, “We cannot allow the darkness to escape Greendale.”

Prudence promised to work with the coven to seal Greendale’s borders as Nick offered to work with the Fright Club to contain the miners. Sabrina and Ambrose would work to disperse the darkness. None of them sounded very hopeful.

You took a step forward and tried to sound braver than you felt. “I can help.” 

“Okay, sure,” Sabrina said, nodding at Ambrose over her shoulder. If she was surprised to see you after lurking in the corner of her kitchen, she didn’t say anything about it. “You can help Nick look for a spell to stop the miners.” 

“No, Brina, that’s not what I meant.” Taking a deep breath, you held out your hand, palm up to the sky. You summoned the Hellfire and let the dark paint the flames and your eyes black. “I can help.” 

There was only one time in your life that you’d ever left Sabrina Spellman at a loss for words: you were nine years old and Billy was testing the limits of the school’s zero-tolerance bullying, Sabrina was using her words the way Aunt Hilda had told her to, and you used your push-kick the way your dad had told you to. The speechless that overcame her now, however, was a different breed. When you were young, it had been a kind of admiration; now, it was a kind of betrayal. The quiet of a broken promise. 

While Sabrina was still processing how her best friend could summon Hellfire, Prudence leaned in closer. She tilted her head as she took you in, intrigued by you for the first time since you’d met her. Even as Nick dragged her out, she kept her eye on you like a cat watches a mouse. Just before she disappeared, she winked at you. 

You’d been so caught up in the whirlwind that is Prudence Blackwood that you didn’t notice Sabrina’s recovery and Ambrose’s diatribe. She pointed out that even if you could keep the darkness at bay long enough for her to create light, her powers wouldn’t be enough. Ambrose argued that the consequences of her suggestion would be cataclysmic. 

“Aren’t we facing something cataclysmic?” she asked. 

Ambrose sighed. Sabrina, begrudgingly, had made a fair point. “How do we go about this? No one other than myself can see the two of you together.”

“Uh, hi?” You stepped forward carefully. “Could one of you please explain what’s going on?” 

Sabrina looked at Ambrose uncertainly. He nodded - after rolling his eyes - and she took a deep breath. “Remember when I gave up being Queen of Hell?” 

“Yeah…” 

“I didn’t really do that. I broke a time loop and created another version of myself so that I, Sabrina Spellman, could have this life and she, Sabrina Morningstar, could continue being Queen of Hell.” 

“Damning the rest of us to a universe that could potentially fold in on itself in the process,” Ambrose finished. 

“Oh.” You couldn’t say that you weren’t surprised that there were two Sabrinas - it didn’t make sense for Caliban to tell you stories about Sabrina advocating for reforms in Hell when you’d seen in her homeroom that same morning stressing about a trig midterm - but you were surprised she’d managed to keep it a secret so long. “This explains why you were muttering about time paradoxes when we were researching the fairy circles outside the Academy,” you said to Ambrose. 

All Ambrose could do was choke out a laugh and shake his head. “Yes, Scout, that is why I was muttering about time paradoxes and why I will die prematurely,” he said, turning on his heel to focus on Sabrina. “Get Sabrina Morningstar, keep contact to a minimum, and we will meet you both at the mines.” 

“Got it!” With a grin, Sabrina disappeared to prepare a glamor. 

Ambrose stared at her, stunned, before saying, “I think she’s actually enjoying this.” 

“What’s not to enjoy?” you asked. You laughed at Ambrose’s outrage over your joke and told him you’d meet him at the mines. There was one thing you had to do before you took on the eldritch darkness. 

Ambrose didn’t ask any questions; he just told you to be back as soon as possible. 

Luckily for you, teleporting to Hell took almost no time at all. The only reason it took you so long to get back to the mines was that it was nearly impossible for both Lilith and Caliban to slip away from the Courts unnoticed. If getting them in a room together was nearly impossible, then getting them not to tear one another’s throats out required a miracle. 

It seemed the only thing the two of them could agree on was that it was too dangerous for you to go into the darkness alone. 

“I won’t be alone,” you said for the umpteenth time. Careful not to mention the other Sabrina, you explained, “I’ll have all the Spellmans with me. All I’m asking from you is …” What exactly were you asking from them? Help? Forgiveness? 

Lilith rolled her eyes. “While the Spellmans may have an uncanny ability to vanquish their foes, I severely doubt their ability to ward off one of the eldritch terrors. Especially without their resident Morningstar.” 

“And what exactly are you suggesting we do, Lilith?” Caliban asked. He said her name as if it were a poison. He used the same steely voice to talk to her that he used when he challenged her claim to the throne, even if he paired it with a smile in your presence. 

Lilith simmered, pulling her lips into a tight smile. Some part of her, you thought, enjoyed the fact that Caliban was defiant, but you knew that an even larger part of her disliked others doubting her. Turning to you, she said, “No one other than the three of us can know about your claim to Hell. I cannot help you face the darkness, but if we bind our powers together, you may have a chance of surviving it on your own.”

“Even with your power, how would I even go about fighting something like this?” you asked. “I can’t make light.” 

“You don’t need to,” Lilith said. “You can feed on the dark, acknowledge it as yours, and draw power from it.” 

Caliban doused the fire building in your veins with water as he stepped forward. “The effects of absorbing that much darkness could be deadly.”

“So is doing nothing,” Lilith said. She tilted her head up to him and narrowed her eyes. “So, Prince of Clay, unless you have any better ideas, I suggest we get a move on before the eldritch dark ends us all.” 

---

You weren’t sure what to expect from the other Sabrina. You’d supposed they would be the same as Wardwell and Lilith: they’d share a face and be impossibly different from one another, but that wasn’t the case. Sabrina Morningstar was an exact double of Sabrina Spellman; if anything, she seemed to be a more hopeful version of your best friend, despite her extended stay in Hell. 

“I see what you mean about the energy down here,” she mused, looking ahead to where the Darkness lay. “It’s … evil. And old. I feel terrible.”

The Darkness didn’t feel evil to you. It felt sad, bottomless, and empty, but not evil. 

“And that will only get worse once you’re inside,” Ambrose said. He tore his eyes away from the Darkness. “Prolonged and acute exposure to the Darkness is lethal. Death by despair.” He sighed. “So who’s first?” 

Sabrina Morningstar shifted next to you. “Me.” 

She squeezed your hand before letting go to pick up the giant lightbulb at her feet. She threw you a trademarked Sabrina smile before disappearing into the Darkness. Even in the pit of despair, there was a light in her that seemed utterly unable to be snuffed out. 

You took a deep breath, shook every other thought out of your head, and focused on the dark. The Dark wasn’t evil, it wasn’t cold. It was pulling faces over a flashlight under the covers with Roz, Theo, and Sabrina. It was Tommy teaching you and Harvey about astronomy through a cracked telescope. It was warm, and sweet, and deeply, intrinsically sad.

The Darkness filled every cell of your being, replaying every birthday you spent wishing that your mother had loved you enough to stay, echoing every degrading word school bullies had said to you. It was smothering.

Sabrina stood right next to you, but her voice was barely audible. “Something’s wrong, Ambrose. The- the light’s fading.”

“I’m afraid so, cos,” Ambrose said. 

You fought to pull yourself out of the Darkness, but it was like shedding a second skin. The Darkness felt like a part of you, more you than yourself. 

The instruments of darkness tell us truths. 

Breathing in, you opened your eyes and steadied yourself. The Darkness was a part of you, maybe the truest piece of you, but that’s all it was: one part of you, one version of the truth. You reached for Sabrina’s hand and forced a smile. 

“Let’s go help her.”

Sabrina stepped into the Darkness first, but then she froze. She couldn’t feel the energy in the dark like you. Carefully, you led her through the Dark until you found Sabrina Morningstar, Darkness seeping out her nose and eyes. She was crying, hope snuffed out. 

Hope, it turned out, took the form of Sabrina Spellman. She picked the pieces of Sabrina Morningstar off the floor and told her that they could face the Darkness, and anything else that came their way, together. And maybe with a little help, you added, as you knelt with them. 

Taking their hands in yours, you drew the Darkness out of their hearts. While Sabrina Spellman hadn’t let very much in, Sabrina Morningstar had worn her heart on her sleeve. She felt every emotion the Darkness threw at her with full force and let her shattered past cut her open. Taking her Darkness was one of the hardest things you’ve ever done, but it was worth it to see the two of them smile over a lightbulb filled with Absolute Darkness. 

Ambrose was a wreck when you found him again. He looked ready to cry at the sight of you. “Congratulations! Unbelievably, the three of you have managed to do what is nearly impossible: you trapped an eldritch terror.”

“We did it,” the Sabrina’s said, each squeezing one of your hands. 

“We should get that lightbulb somewhere safe,” Ambrose said. He took another shaky breath and shook his head as Sabrina Morningstar scooped the Darkness up and started wading through the mines. “I can’t believe that actually worked.” 

“Yeah,” you said softly, watching them disappear down the tunnel. Lifting a hand to wipe your nose, you saw the familiar sticky Darkness painting your fingertips. “Neither can I.”

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[taramikealson]

What If I Stayed? Chapter 1

I Do Not Own The Vampire Diaries Or Any Of The Characters In It.

Klaroline fanfiction

The crescent moon rose high up in the night sky, stars glimmering from light-years away. She could just faintly make out what seemed to be Orion’s Belt, not that she’d know. She was horrible at finding the constellations. But, nevertheless, the stars were pretty and it gave her mind the clarity it needed. 

Her life strayed quite a bit to what she thought it would have been. If someone had come back and told her a year ago that she’d be in a somewhat stable relationship with Klaus, she would have laughed in their face. Back then, she couldn’t deny to herself that he was attractive and that his voice sent shivers down her spine, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t scared of him. He was, after all, a thousand-year old Original hybrid that lacked mercy. He was ruthless and went beyond the line to make a point. 

He killed people and she was scared that if she pushed the wrong buttons, her heart could end up on the floor. 

Time. It’s a riveting thing. It changes perspectives.

Slowly, Klaus had gone from complicated semi-villain to complicated semi-friend. She’d gone to him for advice or supernatural knowledge, because, let’s face it, he knew everything about everything. There was a slow shift in the so-called ‘friendship’. Klaus became more bold in his flirtations and Caroline had slowly drifted toward him after she and Tyler had called off their relationship due to the strain of long distance and his inability to balance his time with his pack and his time talking to her over the phone.

Tyler, inevitably, blamed Klaus for their break up, but Caroline knew better.

Then, Klaus had left for New Orleans on a hunt to find a witch that Katherine had expressed was plotting against him. He was then rudely aware that his time flying to New Orleans and trying to find the witch gave Katherine ample time to get out of town, disappearing again. Anger ran through his bones but, instead, concern flooded his system when Stefan called him, telling him that Silas not only went after Caroline’s mother, but also Caroline herself. It didn’t take him long to arrange for a private jet to fly him back to Mystic Falls. 

It took a little convincing on her part, but eventually Klaus agreed to help them take down Silas. Although they defeated Silas, the veil had come down, reeking havoc on the town. At least a few good things came out of it. Alaric and Jeremy came back and Klaus got to see his brother again, although half of that time was spent convincing him not to murder Jeremy. 

Nonetheless, they went on with their graduation, where Klaus, yet again, had to step in to save them from a gaggle of angry witches. After graduation, Caroline and Klaus lingered, walking down the red carpet as the night air bore a clarity. There, he became bold enough to give her a gentle kiss and then left her with her feelings. Caroline was secretly glad that he had left because the kiss nearly winded her. That moment was what had started it all. Then, came summer. 

They’d spent more time together, talking or sitting in comfortable silence. She noticed that his behavior began to change. He seemed more at ease and less... volatile. Caroline wasn’t naive enough to think that it was wholly her influence, no. She had an idea that perhaps Klaus came to the conclusion that since he enjoys Mystic Falls, for a reason that Caroline has no idea, and that hurting the Salvatore’s or anyone in the town would mean there’d be resistance against him. Although, that was just an idea. She still had no clue at this point.

But, one thing had been clear this summer; Klaus cares for Caroline in his somewhat twisted way. Either way, she knew he’d never hurt her or the ones she loves - at least not anymore because if he did, he’d lose her. 

As well as his new behavioral status, he’s made, somewhat, amends with her mother. Liz was extremely unsettled one evening when she’d found one of Klaus’ coats hanging on her desk chair. She would have assumed it were Stefan’s or Matt’s but they were ruled out when the tag stated, ‘John Varvatos’. Even though Caroline had explained that she and Klaus were taking things really slowly, her mother was pissed. It took a rehearsed and thoroughly well-worded explanation from Klaus, one that Caroline nearly had to beg out of him, that he was just simply visiting her and left his jacket after an important call led to him leaving for his house on short notice.

Oh, and did she forget that Stefan left? No call, no text. Not even a freaking email. He just left. Although, Caroline could understand why he’d want to. His ex-girlfriend and brother are shacking up at his house. She wouldn’t think he’d stay there, but she would have thought he’d actually tell her goodbye at least before he left. 

But, Stefan wasn’t the reason she was sitting in the window-frame looking up at the stars, at least not the whole reason. It was the night before Caroline started college. Caroline and Klaus had sat in the living room, talking. He had gotten a phone call and when he came back into the room, Caroline had noticed his posture was stiff. Naturally, she inquired about his dampened mood. He’d been a little short with her, answering that he was on a call with a vampire that may have had some information about Katherine. Then, Caroline’s mood turned sour. She hated Katherine but hadn’t she suffered enough? Elena had already used the cure on her and Caroline doesn’t doubt that it’s been her worst summer ever. She couldn’t imagine how it would have been like to be a vampire for half a millennium and then suddenly be human. In fact, it’d be even hard for her at an early age. She’s just so used to the strength and speed, its instinct for her now. Caroline had stated her opinion to Klaus who narrowed his eyes and explained, a little heatedly, that “Katerina’s betrayal” could not be ignored. She’d crossed her arms and expressed, perhaps a bit too sharply, that she’d been through quite a bit and that Klaus didn’t need to continue chasing after her. Like, it had been five hundred years, right?

Wrong. 

Once, Klaus’ jaw clenched tightly, she knew she hit a nerve. It wasn’t her intention, and she now admits that her tone was a little too harsh, but he had to hear it from someone. Without their knowledge, Caroline’s mother had come around the corner from her room to see the commotion. Klaus had scoffed. Caroline replied, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think Katherine’s had enough crap. I mean, she’s human now. I’m pretty sure that’s enough punishment as it is. And, it’s been like centuries. You need to let it go.”

“I can’t, Caroline!” He had shouted, yellow had dripped into his eyes. She remembers how he even seemed shocked by his outburst. Caroline had seen her mother at the corner of her eye, and when she turned towards her, Klaus was gone from his spot. The thud of the door connecting with the door jam made Liz jump a little. 

Normally, when Klaus acted out, he’d be confident and sure of himself. Yes, he would react with emotion but never had she seen him surprised by that. If he did something, he’d take full responsibility and be proud of himself, most of the time. It worried her a little. Maybe he’s feeling burdened?

The cool breeze air swept through her window, blowing her hair back. Her mind came back to reality when Megan, their new roommate, had walked into the dorm. She greeted Caroline happily before retreating into the bathroom. 

So far, Caroline really enjoyed college, except for the unexpected new roommate. She wanted to have the whole college experience which included getting drunk with Elena and Bonnie in their dorm room as they talk about boys. But, that was ruined when Bonnie took an unexpected trip to see her family in Colorado, or was it Nevada? And Megan didn’t make it any better. 

The room door opens smoothly with footsteps following it. She first assumes it’s Elena until she looks up to see, none other than, the Original hybrid. His face was solemn yet neutral. Caroline turned back to look outside with a sigh. Klaus continues forward until he sits down at the head of her bed, a foot or two away from her. 

“I think we are overdue for a chat.” His tone is somewhat light but reveals a sliver of nervousness. 

“You think?” She retorts and immediately regrets it. She shouldn’t have said it like that. He was willingly here, nearly an hour away from Mystic Falls, to personally speak with her. She sighs, “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair.”

She turns her hard to look at him and she just registers the hurt expression on his face before it disappears. 

He clears his throat before leaning forward, elbows on his knees. 

“My actions Sunday night were unbecoming.” He begins. “Your mother-,”

“Just got a little spooked.” Caroline finished for him. His eyes seem to glimmer with a ray of hope. Her only thought was that he was now thinking he was out of the ‘doghouse’ so to say. He wasn’t entirely wrong. Caroline raises up off the window seal and sits next to him. 

“My mom’s not used to that side of you, she doesn’t exactly know the difference when you’re just pissed or when you’re ready to rip someone’s heart out.” She explains as Klaus looks away from her and towards the window.

“I should not have spoken to you-,”

“Like a jerk?” She questions almost playfully and Klaus lets a smile grace his face as he turns towards her. His hand rises and lands gently against her forearm.

“You are making this apology a bit difficult, sweetheart.”

She produces a smile of her own at his statement. Her heart warmed in the thought that he was so set on apologizing to her, but it wasn’t necessary. “You don’t need to.” His head tilts in confusion. “Apologize, I mean.” She clarifies but that was not the reason for Klaus’ confusion. 

“I’m not quite understanding.” He says, eyebrows furrowed. 

She sighs before speaking. “Well, my mom will probably still need an apology from you, but that’s not my issue. I gave you a little bit of space the last two days because, frankly, you looked as surprised as I was at your little outburst.”

His head drifted away from her in thought. “I mean, it seems like you’ve been on edge for a while. Why?” She didn’t think it had anything to do with finding Katherine because he’d been doing that for all the time she’s known him and he hadn’t acted like that before, at least since everything’s died down. There wasn’t a reason for him to act that way at all considering there wasn’t anything supernatural going on to divert his attention and give him any sort of strain. 

Klaus seems hesitant as he looks away, as if he’s not willing to share something with her.

“Hey.” She cups his cheek, encouraging him to look at her. He does so, slowly, but downcasts his eyes. “Tell me.” Caroline requests softly as she trails her hand down his throat, shoulder, and arm.

He makes a huffing sound before raising his eyes to her’s. “I’m not sure how best to explain this, but my werewolf side has been… stirring. And it longs to be released, thus the reason why I have been recently turning on full moons.”

Caroline blinks. He had been turning? How hadn’t she noticed? And how are there not been any mauled bodies found in the woods? “You’ve been turning? Why haven't there been any animal attack reports?”

“I am in control of my actions when I turn. At least enough to avoid killing any humans. Your mother is the town sheriff but I only get so many chances with her.” His eyes can her’s. “And I knew you’d disapprove if anyone were to be harmed.”

It was a little surprising to hear him say that. Of course, he’d always have the thought of what she’d think in the back of his mind, but it was different when he actually admitted it. 

“What do you think caused it? It couldn’t have come from nowhere.” 

He shakes his head. “I’m not too sure. Although, I wouldn’t rule out basic supernatural knowledge. I’ve only been around werewolves for a short period of my life, and been part one for even less. As much as I know about the species, it doesn’t come with the information of what it feels like.” He explains, Caroline tilts her head in interest. It was funny, she’d never really talked to Tyler about how triggering his curse felt, only how he felt about his vampire side. Although, was it possible about what Klaus was saying? It’s true that he’s only been a true hybrid for a little over a year and she knows that he has a lot more advantages than an average hybrid, but was it possible that he could also have a different disadvantage? Perhaps, heightened emotions, or maybe a larger temper near the full moon? These days, that wouldn’t be as surprising to her seeing as they just put down a two thousand year old psychic. 

“If anything changes, you’ll tell me, right?” She asks with a sympathetic smile. He lets a chuckle escape his lips, the air in the room becoming lighter. 

“As you wish.” He answers and stands from his place. Caroline follows suit, taking hold of his shirt and pulling him towards her. Klaus’ head inches down, eyes sparkling with mischief, knowing exactly what she was about to do. 

Caroline pushes herself up on her toes to connect their lips before pulling his head down, making her feet land flat on the floor. His hum of acceptance makes her heart pound in her chest. Their lips continue to interlock, playing a dance that the both of them know extremely well. His tongue brushes against her lips and teases the roof of her mouth, deepening the kiss. This has most definitely not been their first intimate kiss, nor does she think it’ll be their last. She can vividly remember when Klaus and she had sprawled out on his expensive Persian rug, blanket draped over her legs, and a crackling fire at their feet. They had both shifted from idle chit-chat to a comfortable silence that wasn’t so rare. Her head leant against his shoulder. It all started with a chaste kiss to the top of her head, which grew into a kiss to her lips. Then, soon thereafter, she ended up straddling his hips, their mouths moving together in unison. Caroline hadn’t really enjoyed make-out sessions too much with other boys, but with Klaus, to call it a make-out session would be too crude. It was more of a dance, one that he knew very well. His hands would wander in the right places, her back, arms, neck, shoulders. He understood that they were not yet in that stage in their relationship where they’d take it any farther than kissing. As well as that, he respected her decision. In past relationships, boys always expected her to sleep with them, but not Klaus. Both him and her understood the weight of their relationship. With Klaus, it was all or nothing, so she had to be sure that he was what she wanted and that he’d be a good match for her for a long time. 

The sound of the shower in the next room over has Caroline pull away. Klaus disgruntledly groans in displeasure, opening his eyes almost lazily. 

“Megan will be out here soon, you should go.”

“Megan?” He parrots in confusion.

Caroline rolls her eyes. “Yeah, mine and Elena’s new roommate since Bonnie isn’t here. I guess the school just assigned it to her.”

“Is it so bad that they see me here?” He asks, not spitefully but playfully.

“Yes!” She exclaims under her breath.

He chuckles before bending down and stealing a kiss from her. With his head still close, he whispers, “I’m headed back to Mystic Falls. There is a certain Sheriff that I owe an apology to.”

Caroline smiles widely. “I’ll call you.”

His only response is a smirk and a gust of wind before he was gone. Not even seconds later, the bathroom door opens and clouds of humidity escape the room as a towel-clad Megan walks out.

“Was someone here? I thought I heard voices.”

Caroline shakes her head. “No, it’s probably some people in the hall, it’s right on the other side of the bathroom.” She lies smoothly, heading towards her dresser for some sleep clothes.

She really hopes Megan doesn’t snore.

I intended to have this as a quick drabble but when I had seen the nearly six pages, I was surprised. I thought I would have gotten a little farther into the drabble than I had with it being this long. If I get some good feed back I’ll probably post another part to it, even though I think I will do it anyways. Hope y’all enjoyed! :)

[dragonsfictavern]

Saving My Savior

Loki Laufeyson x Reader

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 4K

𝗮/𝗻: This is an AU for Loki’s time with Thanos. It’s in-between Thor and Avengers. The MC is another daughter of Thanos. She looks human enough but she has these powers of the mind. She can make people believe anything she wants. Whether they are seeing something or she’s making them believe they’re in pain and a bunch of other powers that include the mind.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: Swearing, talks about, and shows torture.

Gamora swung, punching me hard in the face. I grunt, stumbling back and wiping the blood from the corner of my lip. Both of us were breathing heavily as we moved back into our fighting stance. We had been training for hours. I was losing. And I never lost!

I wasn’t too surprised though; I was once again asked and expected to torture the man I was in love with. Thanos didn’t know of course. And I couldn’t let him. I couldn’t imagine what pain Thanos would inflict on Loki and if he found out about our love.

I threw a punch of my own yet Gamora moved to the side. I punched, aiming for her throat, her stomach, her face. Yet every time she moved to the side as if I was moving in slow motion and she had all the time in the world. I growl under my breath. I was losing patience for this...

Finally Gamora moved, she kicked out her foot and aimed at my chest. I caught it and tugged her forward, using my other hand to latch around her throat. Gamora was quick to snap her own hands to my throat. We stand closely, both of us squeezing and both of us losing our air supply. Teeth barred to her, I stomp my foot against her knee and she buckles.

She crashes onto the metal floor. I let go of her and step back. I barley have time to collect myself before she lunges out. One hand goes to my jaw and the other on top of my head. I freeze. She sees this and her eyes harden.

“What’s wrong? Can’t figure your way out of this one?” She goads. I assess the hold she has on me. It’s loose. I scream and roughly push her away from me. The force knocks her back onto the ground. She looks up at me with ferocity, clutching her side loosely. I eye the movement intently. Interesting...

Gamora grunts as she stands, still keeping her arm across her stomach to guard her side. “You’re growing weak, sister,” she hisses. I inhale sharply and clench my fists tightly.

I scream, stomping towards her and delivering blow after blow anywhere I could make contact. But Gamora was ready. She stepped back and side-blocked each move I made. My patience was getting thin and I needed to win this. With a sharp inhale I swipe up her feet and thrust the palm of my hand to her chest. Gamora when flying back. But with her body in the air she barrel rolled and kicked me in the face.

We both fell harshly onto the metal floor. Gamora and I groan in sync. I don’t bother trying to get up, instead, I lay on the floor and stare up at the ceiling of this level of the ship. I see Gamora sit up from my peripheral vision.

“You’re getting weaker sister. I don’t usually come this close to beating you,” Gamora comments, a hint of amusement in her voice. That was it; my patience snapped like a rubber band. I make my way back to her, rage spilling over me in waves.

“I. Am. Not!” I yell, focusing in on her and honing my powers. In an instant Gamora is screaming in pain, my powers forcing her to believe she was in the worst pain imaginable. Gamora’s body arches before she begins to contort and wither in pain.

I soon let up on the illusion and crouch down next to her. Gamora relaxes and looks up at me lazily.

“Know your place,” I spit out lowly. I place my hands on my knees to help me stand back up. I don’t look back at her as I head to my private quarters to freshen up.

I let my hair fall from its towel before I start to re-dress. It’s only when I’m zipping up my leather jacket that someone knocks on the door. I look in the mirror and smile. The outfit I wore was dark green, black, and gold. I had taken to Loki’s colors with fondness. I move with hurried pace to open the door. Standing in front of me was one of Thano’s little lackey’s: Ebony Maw.

“Maw,” I greet distastefully. Ebony’s lip curls into a snarl.

“Thanos requires your assistance,” he says back, the mutual hate between us evident. Yet I stiffen at the phrase he spoke. It was a code of sorts, a calling for me whenever Thanos needed me to torture someone. It just so happened to be Loki that it had been leading too these last few months. I give him a curt nod. What was I supposed to do? Refuse Thanos? That’s wishful thinking.

Ebony Maw turns on his heel and starts leading me towards the torture chambers. We enter the lower levels of the castle. Before we are about to turn a corner, I almost bump into my sisters. Nebula held Gamora up and Gamora was still guarding her side. I look over them and try not to scoff. And she thinks I am the weak one, I think to myself.

“Gamora... Nebula.” I nod, even letting a smirk grace my face. Nebula senses the smug tone in my voice and she straightens. Always trying to prove herself; the little runt of the family.

“Sister,” Nebula responds cordially.

“Come now,” Maw snaps. I look and realize he’s all the way at the end of the hall. I start to go on my way when Gamora grabs my for arm in an iron grip.

“Please, sister. Don’t do this. If Thanos finds out—“

“And he won’t... Will he?” I interrupt, looking up at her. She stares at me deeply. I know she worries, but I can take care of myself. Gamora breaks from my gaze and looks down to the ground. I rip my arm out of her hold and continue to follow Ebony Maw.

As we walk down the corridors I can’t help but think back on the time Gamora had walked in on one of my sessions. It was around the time I had started to grow feelings for the troublesome god. Instead of using my powers to torture him, I would use them to give him peace. He would sit against the wall and beckon me into his lap; a comfort we both needed. Then I would use my illusions or conjure moments of peace and happiness for us. But Gamora had walked in and broke the spell. There was a lot of yelling— mostly on her part. There was a lot of nervous tears—mostly on my part.

But at the end of the day, Gamora wanted me to be happy for as long as we could manage to pull this off for. She always told me she wouldn’t risk my safety for the god of mischief. And over the past few weeks, Thanos has been growing impatient. He wanted results and he wanted Loki ready. Of course Loki was fine— mentally. Physically he was malnourished and dehydrated. But he was not as susceptible to Thanos as Thanos thought.

Ebony Maw stops in front of a metal door that had two guards stationed out front...More of Thanos’ so called “children”: Proxima Midnight and Corvus Glaive.

“Open the doors,” Maw commanded. Proxima nodded and turned to the door. She entered in a code even I didn’t know and the steel doors opened with a snap. Maw moved to the side and motioned for me to walk inside. I swallow thickly and enter the plain grey room.

The only decoration in the room was laid in the center. Chains hung from the ceiling and some more were sealed to the ground. In those chains were Loki. His head hung low and his knees ghosted over the floor. I could tell he was clearly starving, thirsty, and exhausted. I hated seeing him like this. If only he could get away...

My heart rattled. Of course I didn’t want him gone and away from me, but who was I to have him stay here in pain? If he could get out, I would let him go. I would help him go! Anyway I could...

I stand, stiff and tense. I can feel all of their gazes on my back. I wait impatiently until I hear the snap of the doors. As soon as the seal clicks my shoulders slump and I race towards him. Skidding to the floor, I grasp the chains at his feet and use my key to unchain him.

It’s only then that Loki even senses my presence. The chains around his wrists clank and he eventually manages to pull his head up and look at me.

“You’re here,” he croaks. I smile, taking his face in my hands and kissing him lightly.

“Of course I am. And I’m about to make everything better.” I nod, assuring him and trying to assure myself. He looks up at me as I stand and reach for the chains around his wrists. When I get an arm loose, Loki immediately latches it around my waist. I unlock the other and his arms wind around my hips to support himself. I brush my fingers through his hair tenderly. I can feel his steady breathing against my stomach and my mind calms down. He’s here, with me. He is ok.

When I feel he’s ready to move, we both separate. Loki sits on his arse and scoots against the wall without any help from me. His cheeks looked hallow and the dark circles under his eyes were a heartbreaking sight to see. But he held out his hand and motioned for me to sit in his lap. My brows furrow as I walk over to him. He looked oh so fragile. I attempt to sit down carefully when his arm wraps around my waist and he curls me into him. He hums in approval and a smile grows on my face. I slide my right hand against his chest and burrow my face in his neck. He responds by tightening his hold on me.

“Are you ready?” I ask quietly. Loki inhales slowly before letting out the breath.

“Yes, I think I am,” he confirms.

And just like that, the world around us shimmered away. We now stood in Asgard’s ballroom; a memory I had taken from Loki’s mind. I laugh quietly as Loki’s face immediately brightened. He spun slowly, looking around the place in awe. My smile widens as I look over the love of my life. In my illusion I painted him how I always imagined him. Like a king.

He looked full, quenched, and well-rested. He looked immeasurably happy. Loki turns full circle and lands on me. His lips curl into a wicked grin as he sees my dress.

“Well don’t you look marvelous,” he compliments. My gown fell to the floor and was an abstract design of green, black, gold, and white. I nod and motion back to him.

“As do you, Loki, Prince of Asgard,” I say back. Both Loki and I look down to admire his apparel. He wore Asgardian robes. Green and gold colors adorning it that gave him a refined look. Loki chuckled, happiness radiating off of him as he took everything in, once again. I simply stand and watch him. Seeing and feeling the happiness he feels whenever we go somewhere was simply the greatest feeling in the world.

Loki suddenly grows very serious and I fear I did something wrong. Did I mess up the illusion. He walks towards me, a determined yet slightly nervous edge in his posture. He stops about a foot away from me and holds out his hand.

“May I have this dance?” He asks, his voice silky and smooth. I bite my lip, wanting to suppress that certain smile only he can cause. I nod, not trusting my voice. He grins as if he could possibly know and delicately takes the hand I hold out for him. He pulls me towards him and wraps his free hand around my waist. We hold onto each other with a hand each and I use my free one to rest it across his back. We begin to sway. Realizing that we might need some music, I begin playing a song taken from a memory of a random person on Midgard.

‘A Thousand Years’ by Christina Perri starts playing. Loki jumps, looking up at the sky and I begin to laugh.

“What in the Valhalla?” He muttered. I laugh again, causing him to look down at me.

“It’s from Midgard. It’s what mortals are listening to,” I explain. His lips part and he looks back up to the sky.

“It’s quite nice,” he whispers, then without looking at me, rests his cheek on the side of my head. I smile and pull him impossibly closer.

“I thought it fit,” I say with a shrug as the song continues to ‘I have died everyday, waiting for you. Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more.’ With my head on his chest, I hear the deep rumble of Loki’s chuckle.

“Yes, I suppose it does,” he agrees.

We dance steadily till he surprises me, stepping back and guiding me to spin in a circle under our lifted hands. I do so and gasp as he pulls me close again. I look up at his smiling face and revel in the fact that I was the one causing that.

‘And all along I believed, I would find you

Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years

I'll love you for a thousand more.’

Loki leads us through the room. He spins me, he guides me, he moves our arms fluidly with each new move of the dance.

‘One step closer

One step closer’

He steps back, holding out his arm. I don’t hesitate to take it, walking back into his comforting embrace. He moves his hands and his touch begins near my shoulders. They glide down along my exposed skin, causing goosebumps to rise. I shudder. He smirks as if it was the exact reaction he had been wishing for before he softly places my arms around his neck. He winds his own arms around my waist and draws us close.

“This has been lovely,” Loki murmurs, his head ducked down close to my ear. I merely respond with the slight ‘mhm.’ I was tired. Using my powers for so many things for so long was beginning to take its toll. “When must it end?” He asks. I look up; leaning my head out as far as to see him, though my eyes slightly drooped. I look into his eyes and see the sadness and pain creep up on him. The thought of going back to being malnourished was not something anyone would look forward to.

“We can stay for a little while longer,” I assure him, trying to give my best uplifting smile. Loki’s gaze immediately hardens and his hand moves to cup my cheek.

“You’re tired,” he states. I flop my shoulders in an attempt to shrug. His jaw clenches as he sends me a look. “Do not lie to me,” he grits out. I sigh deeply and let my head sag into his hand. Clear worry replaces the mask of anger on his face at the sight of me.

“It’s hard, I’ll admit. The limit on my power is being stretched thin,” I explain. His brows furrow deeper. “Casting multiple illusions for a multiple of people… I have you and myself here. I have our clothes, your health, the music, and I am casting illusions onto Proxima Midnight and Corvus Glaive,” I give in and explain. Loki’s thumb brushes my cheek.

“What for?” He asks softly. I wince. My head spins and my arms shoot out to hold onto his forearms.

“To make them believe I am torturing you. The sound of your...screams. To avoid suspicion.” I look at him deeply.

“Then we should leave.” Loki nods. I shake my head rapidly.

“No, no. Loki, I’ll be alright. This is all you get. Fleeting moments with me. I want to make them worthwhile,” I express. He chuckles.

“Even the shortest of moments with you are worthwhile.” I shake my head. I hang my arms back around his neck and I hold him close.

“Can we— can we just finish the song? Then we’ll go,” I whisper. I hear him sigh, but eventually he nods and holds me tightly.

I have died everyday, waiting for you

Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years

I'll love you for a thousand more

My lips part. I certainly felt faint. I don’t dare do anything or react. Feeling exhausted was worth doing this for him; because once the illusion was shattered, we would both be back in Thanos’ home. We would both be miserable. A trickle of a feeling passed over me. Something was wrong… but the weakness was consuming my body and I couldn’t tell what was happening. As much as I wanted to focus on Loki and Loki alone, I thought deeply on the sense of dread coursing through my body.

And all along I believed, I would find you

Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years

I'll love you for a thousand more

“Thanos,” I whisper, realization flooding me. A look of horror graced my face as Loki leant back to stare at me.

“Pardon?” He asks. I gasp.

“Thanos.”

Suddenly our world shattered. I scream, being yanked by my hair. I look at Loki as he crumples to the floor, only being held up by my dear brother and sister. I crane my head upwards only to see Thanos gripping my hair tightly. His jaw was locked and if he could, his face would be red with anger. I guess it turned a little brown…

My eyes fall over to Gamora who held her hands over her mouth, regret in her eyes.

“You bitch!” I growl. She closes her eyes. Thanos yanks my hair back and I groan, feeling the strain on my scalp.

“Your sister did the right thing. She exposed me to the traitor in our midst. I just never thought it would be one of my children.” Thanos spoke darkly.

“I’m not your kid,” I spit out. I cry out after he yanks my hair back once again.

“We’ll put them in separate rooms. We have months of work to catch up on,” Thanos orders.

“Loki,” I whisper as Thanos turns around, dragging me out of this room and into the next.

Thanos throws me onto the floor of an empty room. I grunt in landing.

“Let’s get to work,” Thanos says with a wide smirk.

Hours later…

Everything hurt. He had performed every form of torture known throughout all the universes. And there was a lot. When he had finished, I hung from the wall. We both knew I wouldn’t be able to stand on my own. Thoughtful, wasn’t he? He bends down to look me in the eye.

“Let us go show your lover what being with him costs. Maybe that will get him to comply,” Thanos says through clenched teeth.

Thanos rips the chains off my body and carries my by the back of my neck. I groan in pain from just about every move made by me and Thanos. The door to the room Loki’s in opens and Thanos throws me inside. I crash onto the ground and I groan, feeling parts of my body throb in pain.

“What? What did you do?!” Loki shouts weakly, his own injuries not redenering him the most useful. Loki was sprawled out on the floor. He cried out, moving to get closer to me. Thanos stepped in front of me.

“Do you love her?” He asks lowly. Loki flinches, turning his gaze to the floor. “Do you love her, boy?!” He yells.

“Yes,” Loki says weakly. A sick smirk grows on Thanos’ face.

“Then look upon what you have done to your beloved, because this,” Thanos growled, stomping around and gripping the hair at the base of our heads. He yanks us both up to stare at each other. “Is what happens when you go against me,” Thanos speaks darkly. Tears fall down my face. My scalp felt like it was on fire. Loki’s jaw was clenched as if he was trying to hold in all the pain. He let us both fall to the floor and I gasped, tears falling quicker by the minute. This was agony.

Thanos moves around me, pulling and tugging at my limbs to get me in another set of chains that must have been brought in. He then moves and I watch as he starts chaining up Loki. I close my eyes, trying to focus on better things. Thanos eventually steps away from us and looks at his work.

“Look at what your betrayal has led to… I’ll be back for you both soon enough,” he explains before walking out of the room. Once the seal closes I let the illusion shatter. Loki suddenly noticing he wasn’t in chains, scrambles up into a sitting position.

“What is?” His eyes flicker up to me. He inhales sharply as he moves to cup my face with his hands. “What are you doing?” He croaks out. I close my eyes briefly before I smile as much as my injuries would allow me.

“I promised myself that if you ever got the chance to leave, I would let you. More importantly, I would help you. This is me helping you,” I whisper. Loki shakes his head.

“But I- I can’t. I can’t leave you here,” he whispers out desperately. As much as it hurt, I pushed forward and leaned my forehead against his own.

“Please…” I trail off. We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity before he nods, determination flooding his features.

“What do I do?” He asks. I exhale in relief.

“Use the tesseract. Get out of here and find help. Thanos will not stop once he’s lost you. He will find another and create the same chaos he first intended. Find the most powerful beings in the multi-verse and stop him,” I explain, putting as much strength as I could muster in my voice.

“I will,” he says, standing up. “And I will come back for you,” he states. I grin and do my best to shrug no matter how much it hurt.

“I’ll be waiting…”

Loki chuckled and hauled himself up, groaning in the process.

“I’ll try and keep an illusion around you as long as I am able,” I tell him. He nods and kisses my forehead softly.

“Don’t strain yourself, love,” he says against my forehead. I peer over my shoulder and watch him move out of the room. I was already beginning to feel tired.

“Hurry,” I whisper.

Third person.

Loki reaches the room that held the tesseract. He was surprised no one had noticed him but he chalked that up to her not listening to him. He walked up to the blue cube and reached for it.

“If you leave, I will kill her,” a deep voice grumbled. Loki spun on his heel and was met face-to-face with Thanos. Loki let his hand fall to his side. “But… if you go to New York and allow the Chitari through, I will let you and her go. Fail me, I’ll kill you both,”

Loki froze. He needed to save her. He couldn’t let her die after she risked everything to save him. He couldn’t do that to her. He sighed and dug his hands into his greasy hair. He didn’t want to do this, he knew she wouldn’t want him to do this… but he saw no other choice.

“So, will you do it?” Thanos asked expectantly. Loki let his hands fall before looking Thanos in the eye.

“I will.”

[sprnklersplashes]

right where you left me

or, the missing scene between robin and moth where she seeks him out that no-one asked for but you get anyway, complete with allusions to the author’s headcanons

He recognises her calling card as soon as he sees it.

It hasn’t changed since they were kids; a single, thin branch taped to the inside of his locker, a pink flower just beginning to bloom on the end of it. He actually smiles a little, in spite of himself, when he first finds it. It’s kind of nice, in a way, to see this hasn’t changed since he saw her last. And even better to imagine how she did this; slipped in unnoticed and blended in amongst the Baxter High students long enough to get that note into his locker. It can’t have been hard, not for her, but he’s impressed nevertheless. She was always good like that.

Soon after the nostalgia, however, comes the dread, especially when he sees the note stuck under the branch. He steps closer to the locker and straightens his shoulders, trying to block as much as possible despite the hallway being empty. School is finished now, the bell long since silenced, the only bodies still here either in classrooms or in the gym for basketball practice-where his boyfriend is now. There’s no-one around who could see it, and if they did they likely wouldn’t care, but that doesn’t stop him from taking precautions. The day he doesn’t might just be the day he should have.

Besides, this is beyond private.

His hands shake slightly as he lifts the note down from the door, his chest tightening. There’s no seal on it, he notes with faint surprise but also relief. At least it’s not an official request. When he opens it, he finds the message carefully written inside, if a little on the blunt side.

You. Me. Oak tree. ASAP. I’m waiting.

-Moth. 

She’s nothing if not direct.

He lets out a long exhale and closes his locker, not before pocketing both the note and the branch. Amazing, how such tiny words can shake him so much. Make him feel like he’s been pushed down the stairs and had the air knocked out of his lungs. He leans his head against the locker door, eyes shut tight as he tries to think past the ringing in his ears.

He shouldn’t go. If his life with the Pagans is over, his life with them is left in the dust and it’s better staying that way. He wants it that way, he tells himself. He’s put so much energy into building a new life now and it’s good, better than good. As close to perfect as he’s ever known, and he’ll be damned if he does anything to risk that. 

And after all, the last time he was there he was told to never come back. So by staying away, he’s merely following orders.

And yet… he reads the note again and try as he might, he can’t be completely okay with the idea of ignoring it. Maybe it’s because of who he is, some deeply-buried hobgoblin instinct pulling him, or a sense of twisted loyalty. His parents told him when he was a kid that no matter where he went, he’d always be tied to the forest, and this must be what they meant. It must be, because he can’t think of any other explanation as to why he might actually do this when every other cell in his body is digging their heels in. Telling him-or rather, begging him-to just toss her note in the trash and move on with his life. 

His mind is made up when he looks down at the note again, his finger tracing the faintly-familiar writing. If he’s fast, and he is, he’ll be here and back before Theo’s finished basketball practice. He’s not planning on staying longer than he needs to anyway. Theo wondering where he’s been is actually the one thing he doesn’t need to worry about here.

He half-jogs through the silent corridors and down the front stairs, before heading out the front door. The air outside is cool enough, a welcome contrast to the prickling warmth overtaking his body. The parking lot is almost empty, save for a few cars and some trash blowing around in the wind. Even so, he can’t be too careful here, and he takes one last look around him before he takes off, leaving only the scattering leaves behind him.

His landing is far less graceful than he’d have liked it to be; skidding to a halt and just about managing to not trip over himself. He pushes his hair out of his face, turning slowly to survey the area. This should be the place, unless there’s another tree he was meant to meet her by. He doubts it, but takes the note out again anyway. They were never ones for hidden clues or anything, but he can at least pretend he’s doing something.

“You’ve gotten sloppy,” a voice comes from behind him, and he jumps out of his skin, a curse escaping his mouth and the note falling to the ground. But even with the frantically beating heart, a grin spreads across his face as he turns around, finding nothing at first, but then he lifts his chin, his eyes straining until he finds a flash of turquoise amongst the green leaves. The branches shift and rustle, and the flash of blue moves along until the branches part and he sees her smirking down at him, leaning up against a branch like it’s a lightpost. “Once upon a time you’d have stuck that landing.”

“I was in a rush. This was kind of last-minute,” he replies. “So are you coming down or am I coming up?” Moth purses her lips, but she jumps down onto a lower branch, then lower again, as quick and agile as any creature that would live in the tree. When she lands on the floor without a sound, he’s almost impressed.

She still looks the same. She’s changed, of course, taller, the round face of childhood gone, her blue-tinged hair falling just past her chin instead of tumbling down her back. But she’s still her, still with that defiant, so-what look in her eyes and there’s something comforting about that.

That comfort is likely the only reason he’s able to get out a “hi” when she lands. She nods, her arms folded across her chest, and the air around them tightens as they regard each other. She keeps her distance, like he’s got some infectious disease, and he tries to pretend it doesn’t hurt. He shoves his hands into his pockets and kicks the ground, trying not to let the uneasiness he feels show on his face. For all he knows, she’s enjoying this. 

“Been a while, Puck,” she says eventually. 

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “Been busy. Travelling. You know how it is.”

“Yeah. I do.” There’s a bitter edge to her voice that he can’t say he doesn’t deserve. Even if it’s maybe not fair. After all, she saw what happened too. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“I’m wondering if I should be insulted by that.”

“Well, I haven’t heard from you in a while,” she reminds him. “Last we heard you were on your way to Greenedale and then that was that. Nothing.” Her jaw clenches and his stomach twists itself into knots. He won’t feel bad here, he won’t. “And we didn’t even hear that from you.”

There it is. He clenches his jaw tightly, deliberately looking at the ground although it does nothing to alleviate the weight of her eyes on him. A flash of indignant anger runs through him, enough to, at least temporarily, shake away that tight, uncomfortable feeling in his gut.

 Like he said, she saw what happened, and she had almost been on his side back then. Times change, he guesses, and so he can skip the formalities.

“Moth, I take it you didn’t go through all this effort just to make a social call,” he says flatly. “So what do you want?”

Her hands curl into fists at her side and for a moment hurt flashes across her face, before she swallows it and puts the mask back up.

“You’re right,” she sighs. “It isn’t a social call.” She takes a step closer, slightly narrowing the gulf between them. She raises her chin and as seconds pass in silence, she seems to be psyching herself up; her breathing slow and deep, her eyes regarding him warily, like he’s a frightened animal, and that’s when the alarm goes off in his head. “Oberon sent me.”

Those three words flip a switch in him. Not even the three of them. Just the one. Just that name. He backs away slightly, his chest tightening as he tries to keep his knees from buckling. Frankly, he’s amazed by the fact he keeps breathing. So much comes flooding back, things he’d pushed so far down he thought he’d healed. He’d forgotten exactly how much anger there is there, how much resentment he’d had piled up until it sits in front of him now. All of his old wounds reopen without warning, invisible blood running over his skin, and it doesn’t help that Moth is standing over there as a physical reminder.

Of all the paths he thought she’d take, this was the last one. 

“So you’re his lackey now?”

“Someone has to be.” There’s a sting of accusation in both their comments, and the unsaid implications are clear, for him anyway. ‘Someone has to be, since you left’. “And I’m not a lackey.”

“Whatever,” he sighs, shaking his head. He backs up, blinking away the hot tears in his eyes and he replies with more callousness than he thought he was capable of. “Tell Oberon I don’t care. If he wants me, he can come and talk to me himself. I’m not dealing with a go-between.”

“Gods, will you stop acting like a child?” she spits back. “This is bigger than you and Oberon’s little spat, Puck, and you know it.” He shakes his head and is ready to leave, would have if not for what she said in that critical split-second. “You can feel it too. I know you can.” And that turns him around, almost involuntarily, while Moth mutters, “You haven’t been gone that long.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, ignoring the implication.

“Don’t play stupid, Robin,” she says. She closes the distance between them even more and up close, he can see the desperation etched onto her face, the concern shining in her dark eyes. She grasps his arm tightly, her fingers buried in his jacket, and her touch feels more like a plea. “This realm is different now. It’s not safe anymore, is it? You can feel it, I know you can.” She stares up at him, eyes blazing, and whatever lie he had prepared dies on his tongue.

He has felt it; he’s just chosen to ignore it. Every time the hair on the back of his neck raises, he pretends it’s just the wind. When worry sits like a heavy stone in his stomach, he pushes through it and moves on with his day. And whenever he bolts awake in the dead of night, his nerves sparking like livewires, he tells himself it’s nothing important. He told himself that over and over until it got stale, and it’s only in the past few days it’s become impossible to ignore.

Maybe it’s fate that Moth came to him now.

“Maybe I can,” he mumbles. He pulls his arm out of her grasp, but there’s next to no strength in it. “So what?”

“Then you know this realm is doomed,” she tells him. 

“No,” he responds firmly. “No, me and my friends, we have a plan. We’re going to fight these, and we’re going to win. We’ve already defeated some of them before.” A bitter grin cuts across Moth’s face, and when she laughs, the sound is cold and hollow.

“You weren’t always this naive, were you?” she mutters. “Maybe all your time in this realm has done more damage than I thought.” She tosses her head, her hair falling away from her eyes, and crosses her arms over her chest. “You and your friends can try to save this realm. We’re trying to work out what to do if you can’t. That’s why Oberon sent me here.”

“Well isn’t he sweet?” he sighs. “You give the guy too much credit. You always did.”

“He cares about you,” Moth says. Her voice verberates throughout the forest and what’s worse is the conviction in it-so much damn passion in it that it hurts him. “You might refuse to believe it, but he does.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe it,” he mutters. He backs away from her, his fingers fidgeting at his side. His instinct is to tear into her, to remind her of every single thing Oberon has said and done to him to disprove her argument, but he holds it back. He didn’t come here to rub salt into old wounds and she didn’t come here to do so. So he lets the silence linger and clear his head, his pent-up resentment fizzling and fading into background noise. And as he breathes in, slow and deep, he registers what Moth said fully.

“So this plan,” he begins. Her head twitches up when he speaks and what’s more, her mouth turns up into a small smile. He suppresses a sigh, unable to believe he’s actually doing this. “What is it?”

“We don’t know yet,” she confesses. “But there’s a meeting tonight that’ll explain everything. And we want you there.”

“Oh, you do?”

“It’s for all hobgoblins,” she tells him. “And no matter where you go, you’re still a hobgoblin, Robin.” He nods, biting the inside of his cheek, and she studies him carefully, her expression teetering on hopeful. “So… are you coming?”

That’s the question. And when he thinks of his answer, he isn’t thinking of himself, not really, but about Theo. More specifically, he thinks about Theo in Blackwood’s perverted reality. A side effect of getting his real memories back in the perverted world means he remembers everything that happened there too, and more than anything he remembers watching Theo await execution. How he saw the fear on his perfect face, and how he could only stand helplessly with Zelda holding him back lest he run up there himself. He thought he knew what fear felt like before, but watching his boyfriend’s life hang by a thread blew his past away, and there hasn’t been a day since where he hasn’t thought about how close he came to losing him. And with that comes dark things he doesn’t like dwelling on but has to; what if next time he’s not quick enough? What if next time they don’t have magic? What happens if and when Sabrina’s luck runs out? All it takes is one unlucky move, and Theo could pay the price for it.

Besides, a back-up plan can’t hurt, can it? 

He closes his eyes, and the image of Theo chained to the church wall flashes in his mind.

“When and where?” he asks flatly, and he opens his eyes just in time to see Moth’s shoulders sag in relief.

“Still working out the finer details,” she tells him. “We know it’ll be late. After midnight, we just don’t have a specific time. Apparently some pixies are being very uncooperative. Why don’t I just come up and pick you up? I take it I just turn left somewhere, follow the faint carnival music and then knock on the scruffiest-looking caravan, right?” she jokes, oblivious to the ugly history she missed. 

And unknowingly bringing up the elephant in the room.

He really should contact her more often, if only to avoid moments like this.

“I uh… I actually don’t travel with the Pagans anymore,” he says.

“Oh,” is all she can reply with. She stammers for a bit, confused and curious, until he dismissively waves her hand, his cheeks warming slightly. “Uh… I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, no you’re not.” She doesn’t deny it; she never liked them. Turns out she was right. “It didn’t work out, that’s what happened.” He neatly side-steps everything else. It’s for another time, preferably with alcohol involved. He scratches behind his ear, opting to go for something that might be easier to explain, but probably infinitely more embarrassing. “Yeah I uh… I live with my boyfriend now.”

And just like the word “Oberon” flipped a switch for him, the word “boyfriend” flips a switch for Moth, only in the other direction. Her mouth slowly and steadily falls open, her eyes doubling, tripling in size and a decidedly uncharacteristic squeal emits from her. He wouldn’t have been surprised if birds had started fleeing the area. He laughs though. It feels good, like old times.

“Boyfriend?” she echoes. He nods and she smacks his arm, her own way of congratulating him. He’s glad to see she’s not gotten any weaker. He feels the bruise forming already. “Well look at you,” she sings proudly. “Never thought I’d see the day. What’s he like? Tall, dark, handsome? Romantic hero type? Or did you fall for the bad boy, because if I remember correctly, you do like them rough.”

“He’s not a bad boy,” he tells her. “He’s not. He’s…” He bites his lip. There aren’t enough words for him to describe Theo and certainly not in the time they have. “He’s sweet. And he’s funny.”

“Aw, you’re smitten, Puck,” she teases. “So what is he? Pixie? Sprite? Another hobgoblin? Where’d you even run into him?”

“Slow down, Moth,” he says. “First off, he’s mortal.”

That does put a damper on Moth’s mood. While it is rare, he’s not the first fae creature to love a mortal. He doubts he’ll be the last too. But that doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable, at least in the fae folk’s eyes. In Moth’s.

He bites the inside of his cheek, watching her expression darken, and almost wishes he hadn’t said anything.

“Wow,” she breathes. “I take it he doesn’t know-”

“Oh, he does.” He smiles, feeling a sort of smug satisfaction. “He knows all about supernatural worlds. He knows what I am. He just doesn’t mind.”

“Well good for him,” Moth mutters. She stuffs her hands into her pockets and looks up briefly to check the sky, while Robin checks his watch. He still has time before Theo finishes, but he senses Moth might have places to be. “Okay, so I’ll pick you up at your boyfriend’s house, I guess?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “It’s that big farmhouse just outside town. You can’t miss it. I’d give you an address only-”

“Wise move,” she replies. “And what about the boyfriend?”

“You said it’ll be after midnight?” She nods. “Then he’ll be asleep. He won’t be a problem. Neither will his dad.” He shivers and pulls his jacket tiger around him. “He doesn’t need to know about this.”

“Glad to see you haven’t changed that much,” Moth tells him. He wants to ask what she means, but then realises he already knows. He’s not sure how he should take it, and so he lets it go entirely.

“I should go,” he says. “Theo-my boyfriend-he’ll be expecting me.”

“Ah, of course,” she says. “True love waits for no-one.”

“Speaking of true love, have you made a move on Merryweather yet?” he replies, and gets an enormous amount of satisfaction from watching the tips of her ears turn pink. “Well, keep working on it. Maybe I can ask her tonight.”

“Don’t you dare,” she whispers. She clears her throat steps back, her hands shoved into the pockets of her jeans. “I have to go too. Duty calls and all that. You know, being a ‘lackey’ as you put it is harder than it looks. But I’ll come pick you up tonight.”

“I’ll be there,” he replies.

“Cool.” 

They stand there for a bit as the silence around them grows awkward and heavy, neither one sure if or when they should leave. There’s still so much unsaid between them, good and bad, but for now they’ve done all they can. When Moth eventually turns to leave, it’s with tiny little finger guns instead of a wave, because of course it is. She couldn’t take something seriously if she tried. She’s a lot like Theo in that way, he just realises. And in some more too. Maybe when it comes to the people he cares about, he has a type. 

The sight of her turning away makes him realise, just now, how much he’s missed her. It’s yet another thing he tried to ignore, to forget, but it all comes back and hits him like an arrow shot to his heart. He missed her. For years, it was just her and him against the world, or at least in their minds, and whatever grudges he holds against the rest of the hobgoblins, Moth has always been the exception to that. They have their differences, but for so many years she was his better half. His best friend. It’s anyone’s guess how much of who he is now is owed to Moth. And in that critical moment, he realises that this time he is far less okay with letting her go. 

Neither one of them can change what’s happened. They can’t go back to the way they were; they’re both too different now. But this is a second chance of sorts. Maybe they can change their future. 

“Hey Moth?” he calls after her. 

“Yeah?”

The sunlight catches her hair as she turns, and she looks so much younger then. Like they’re still the kids who chased each other through the forest. He smiles at her and pretends the lump in his throat doesn’t exist.

“It’s good to see you,” he tells her. It’s an understatement, truthfully, but it’s the best he can do for now. She gets it, of course. She huffs a laugh, but the disguise is short-lived and he sees right through it anyways. When she looks at him, it’s not quite a reconciliation, but it’s closer than they were before.   

“You too, Puck,” she calls back. He goes to say something else but then she’s gone, the scattered leaves the only evidence that she was ever here in the first place. 

[youarejesting]

Quarantine.2

[Masterlist] Pairing: BTS x reader (i don’t know if this will have ships or just friendship or what I am just letting it run its course) Genres: friendship, drama, romance Rating: All Summary: Your brother works with a few BigHit dance teams and whilst having permission to accompany him at work the city shuts down banning anyone from stepping outside for a whole WEEK while they disinfect the streets. If you step outside you might get arrested, shot or poisoned by the chemicals they are emitting through the city. Words: 3.1k  Announcement: I have 901 followers this. I can’t thank you guys enough. Stay safe. (this has a tiny inspiration from the movie exit and that is that they can’t go outside that's about it)

[Part 1]  [Part 3]  [Tag Yourself Here]

When the sun poured in from the window, you deemed it time to wake up, though you hadn’t actually slept, not that you didn’t try. There were specific requirements you needed to sleep. It had to be pitch black with soft tone music in the background and there had to be air running across your face by a fan or you would feel claustrophobic.

Stepping out into the hall, you heard two young female employees talk as they passed about ‘hot water running out’. Following them down the hall you saw the first set of bathrooms. It was packed, the line stretched out down the hall. 

“Maybe we should try the bathroom on the third floor?” one of the two women said,  “No these are the best and it will be packed as well so we should just stand in line.”  

You walked away and to the third floor to see the line, you weren’t worried about showering anytime soon. It was also out the door with tired men and women sitting against the wall. Humming thoughtfully you remembered the storage room, there was an old bathroom beside it, what are the chances there was a shower in there. 

Taking the service elevator to the basement. It was clean and brightly lit, just as it had been the day before. There were cameras in some corners of the halls. You walked to the end cautiously, why did basements have such a bad reputation. Seeing the familiar storage room ahead of you and to the right was the bathroom. You pushed the door open hesitantly; you saw the stalls they were clean and unused, and like luck would have it the last had a shower. Locking the door you showered quickly the water was hot because there was a personal hot water system in the corner of the stall. 

With a towel wrapped securely around your chest, you quickly ducked into the storage room. Cleaning up a little and hanging ropes across the pipes on the walls. Making a makeshift clothesline to hang the clothes you had washed in the shower. There were some old costumes and props and hoodies. Searching the piles of clothing for something that fit. You found something you were nervous to wear. Embarrassingly you had found a box of old merch and discontinued items in various sizes, none of it had been worn they all still had tags and were sealed in their packets folded professionally. 

You pulled out a set of BT21 underwear in your size and felt your face grow hot if you were caught wearing these character underwear you would be mortified. You found what looked like a plain black hoody in an XXL and slipped it on. It reached to your knees. You chose this size as there were no pants in the pile and boxes you had searched just hoodies and underwear. 

You took the service elevator up to your floor and stepped out walking past the two women who had lined up in front of you still haven’t gone in. Continued walking you slowed past the boys meeting room you could hear groans of annoyance, “there is no hot water and the lines for the showers are huge” 

Deciding to take pity and potentially losing your secret shower, you knocked on the door. Met by a dishevelled Jin. Slipping past him and shutting the door, the room had a very manly musky scent and you blushed “I um… found a secret shower with a personal hot water system but you have to promise to keep it a secret or I won’t tell you?”

Their eyes lit up. Scrambling to you. You told them to pack their shower stuff in a discreet bag and they lined up waiting. 

“Follow me?” Turning and peeking out the door you heard them gasp and start laughing hysterically. You froze confused, had your hoody rode up and exposed your underwear. Tugging the back of the hoody down you sighed in relief realising that wasn’t the case. Whipping around to see they were hanging off each other trying to suppress their laughter.  “what is it?”

“We didn’t know you were a fan of Suga?” “Who?” They pointed at the small thin young man, his eyes sleepy and his face blank, the corners of his mouth seemed permanently turned down.  “You're wearing my uh merch, it says ‘Suga’ on the back” you turned to have a look and facepalmed. 

Yoongi couldn’t help laughing at your shocked reaction, his eyes lost all their sleepiness and turned into rainbow arches, his soft cheeks lifting and his smile revealed. You could see his pink gums and you knew he was genuinely amused. 

“I uh stole it from the storage room, I thought it was a plain black hoody you have a lot of merch clothes down there,” Leading them from the room and past the line of employee’s to the service elevator.  “Why do you take the service elevator?”  “What services will we get when the whole city is stuck indoors? And the regular elevator is small and busy” 

“You are pretty smart?” Namjoon nudged you with his shoulder, which would have been fine if your body wasn’t tired and lethargic from lack of sleep. Stumbling back into Jimin’s arms. “Thank you, I find I can be smart when I need to be” The doors opened and like every time you stepped into the basement you felt like you were in some action or horror movie. 

“This is where we die?” Hoseok laughed his voice cracking a little. You laughed, actually laughed. There was something about the way he said it in English with his cute accent.

“That’s what I think every time I come down here. The bathroom is in there, there is only one shower but if you wash your clothes with the bucket and the generic soap I stole from the supply cupboard down the hall, you can wash your clothes and hang them in the storage room. It has decent ventilation down here so they won’t take to long to dry”

You left them to it, going back to the storage room, cleaning some more you found a board game and some promotional cans of drinks. There were some more clothes in another box, you tried to find a pair of pants that would fit but were unlucky. You couldn’t have it all. 

You sighed hanging a long white fabric backdrop over the slightly stained couch. Sitting as you emptied some more product boxes while waiting. You were tired but you couldn’t sleep. Deciding to use the BT21 makeup, you found you put on some makeup and smiled it was nice. You wondered why the storage room was filled with random bits of their work. 

You finished applying the lip tint when they walked in clean wearing only towels, “oh um” you turned to cover your eyes, “you have clothes and costumes over there”

They all sorted through the clothes and dressed while you faced the corner of the room. When they said they were done, you walked back to the couch to find it already occupied. “You look happier” Examining the group of boys, Taehyung was tying his shoes on the couch and Jimin and Yoongi were talking quietly looking up and down your legs your cheeks tinted pink 

Jin and Jungkook were hanging out washing and they stopped staring at your bra and underwear, causing you to get redder especially your neck and ears. Taehyung hooked his finger under the hem of the hoodie you were wearing and gently pulled it up at the side. With a squeal and a jump, you flailed slapping his hand away. 

“Taehyung, you can’t just do that?” Namjoon scolded and Taehyung blushed holding his hands up in defence.  “Sorry I wasn’t trying to look at your underwear I was just wondering if you had pants on, but, um… are you wearing Cooky underwear?” Jungkook froze his cheeks going red and you looked away refusing to answer your face feeling like it was on fire. “I don’t know the character names but it’s a bunny?”

“Oh JayKay you lucky boy” Hoseok slapped the younger boys back and you frowned.  “Again I just wore what was clean and I could find” You walked out of the room unable to stand to be near them your face was too warm. On your way back to the corridor they all caught up joining you in the elevator to the second floor. You were all going to the dining room for some breakfast. 

Your brother again was nowhere to be found, many of the boys were wearing prescription glasses complaining about not having contacts.  “You look good don’t worry” you mumbled to Jin and he seemed to fluff right up like a proud peacock blowing a kiss at you from one end of the table. 

Taehyung sat in front of you and it was kind of hard to eat. He was so handsome. His face was mesmerising. His eyebrows were thick and eyelashes were long. He had rounded ears that stuck out giving him a silly kind of look but you thought it was so cute. You seemed mesmerised by the tiny freckle on his nose. 

Eating slowly giving up your kimchi again and settled for rice and the lightly seasoned side dishes. “You mustn’t like kimchi,” Namjoon said “It’s a strong flavour I am still getting used to but as for now it is making my stomach hurt my body is not used to fermented foods” “But kimchi is so delicious” Hoseok defended

“It’s like, imagine how you would feel if you had to eat bread every day your body would react. It’s nice at first but then you get sick of it, wanting something you are used to eating. Your body would bloat unused to the carbs. My body does the same thing with kimchi but instead of bloating if I eat it I might just vomit”

Yoongi nodded understanding and you sighed “I just want something bland like mash potatoes and chicken with no chilli or kimchi just plain food, just once” you sighed pushing the food around your plate Jungkook laughed beside you his teeth were adorable, and when he smiled his eyes did too you were lost for a moment. He handed you some of the plain food from his plate. They were all really handsome and you had to keep yourself from saying or doing anything embarrassing. 

Parting ways you went to find your brother, he was practising with the dancers. You sat watching, even helping one of the students through the routine. Dancing was a family trait, you had been dancing for as long as you can remember but you didn’t anymore, you had gotten so many rejections from your auditions that you finally gave up. 

So your brother tried not to act too surprised when he saw you standing and doing the very basic steps to show his student the routine. They were practising for a festival which might not even be held due to the virus. sighing, the kids all took a break and your brother left sparring you a glance. 

Frozen in place you didn’t know you were walking until you were face to face with the stereo. Pressing the play button the music played and all you could hear was the rejection. 

‘I am sorry you didn’t get the part’ 

‘We regret to inform you, your audition was not accepted’ 

‘You didn’t make it to the final audition round better luck next time’. 

Shutting off the music you were having a panic attack. Again. Racing out of the room, you ran straight into Hoseok. He grabbed your arm. Looking down at your face, “hey breathe it’s okay, look at me and breathe” You copied his breathing until you felt yourself slump against his chest. He rubbed your back, “Hey, tell me what’s wrong?”

You hadn’t let any tears slip not this time, and you were determined to keep it that way. “It’s nothing” “Come on, that was not nothing?” He squeezed your hand, “tell me about it, I am a really good listener” He sat you down in your brother’s office and poured you some water, “it’s stupid” “Nothing is stupid if it makes you react like that?”

“I used to do something I pursued it and loved it very much, but everyone rejected me, said I wasn’t good enough said I wouldn’t become anything and after all the rejection I couldn’t take it anymore I couldn’t even think about this thing without panicking, I miss it so much, it use to make me happy. I use to get an electric buzz through my body and it was surreal. I could express myself and become whoever I wanted to be, but now all I hear is their voice telling me no”

“I understand, I wasn’t always this famous guy, I was a street dancer, I tried and tried and tried and I got rejections after rejections until one day I got scouted by BigHit” “How many times were you rejected? If you had to take a guess.” “Fifty to a hundred at least”  “I was rejected 873 times, I had a tally that’s the equivalent of being rejected every day for two and a half years, forgive me if I felt worthless”

“Don’t let the no’s stop you okay, keep pushing until you get that yes because a life of struggle is better than a life of regret” he smiled patting your knee before leaving quietly and you sat there confused. 

You spent the day thinking about it, it scared you how your feet began itching to dance. Your body wanted to move. You walked past the dance studio rooms at least three times before finally, you got the courage to step inside. You sat off to the side watching your brother and Hoseok perfect their routine. 

“Hello” Namjoon smiled as the two of you were talking, he started teaching you a tiny bit of Korean, you only got through greetings, my name is, how are you? Where is the___? what is this? It was fun and took your mind off the dancing. 

You caught your foot tapping and left the room slowly before the feeling caught up with you. You went to the basement and to the storage room your clothes were almost dry, you continued searching through the boxes and bags of clothes and found some more stuff. It was a shirt that said plus multiply plus in yellow and blue, and the sweat pants you found the tag said soobin and was a perfect fit. 

Slipping them in a bag you headed upstairs, everyone went to dinner. Sitting beside your brother you ate slow, mind wandering with what if’s. He was right a life full of what if’s and regret was worse than the rejection. Your brother was talking adamantly with his students and the dance team, you ate what you could before you excused yourself leaving. Laying in the storage room you really couldn’t get the feeling out of your body or the music out your head. Your fear had morphed, you were scared to feel the joy that only dancing could bring, a fear of how bad you must be after the long break.

It was torture, it got dark. You got changed and travelled up the stairs this time trying to tire yourself out or slow yourself down because you knew exactly where you were headed. You took your time and you finally arrived on the fourth floor. You stepped into the empty dance studio and turned on the lights dimming them so they gave a faint glow, you didn’t want to alert anyone that you were inside. 

Turning down the stereo system you plugged your phone in and started a slow song, it started small, feeling the music, trying a few moves and stopping you didn’t have anything to go on just yet you were warming up. When none of the songs could draw anything out of you, you switched to the CD and hit play on whatever was inside. The song title appeared on the small led screen ‘Louder than bombs’. The music was able to move you, it had been so long you danced the lyrics ripping through you 

Louder than bombs I break. 

You finished the song crying and you wanted to do it again but the next song had you with the beat of the drums it was called ‘On’. Slowly getting into the songs each one bringing out a new emotion. Expressing everything you had, you had gone through the album twice. Dancing to black swan, the music died out when you heard clapping and turned falling on your behind. 

There was a slapping sound and a deep “ow what was that for?” “Tae, She isn’t supposed to know we are here idiot” The lights grew a little brighter and you saw the BTS boys and your brother.  You frowned “how long have you been here?” “I have been here since pretty much the start,” Hoseok rubbed the back of his neck “you were dancing to some English songs”

“I came in halfway through louder than bombs the first time” Jimin grinned doing a few of the moves he memorised. “Your brother was looking for you, we had been searching everywhere,” Namjoon said “We worried you went outside”

“Your dancing was really nice?” Jungkook said “I liked what you did with my song and the black swan dance you did was very pretty” “Y/n I haven’t seen you dance in years” Your brother stepped forward, you were feeling a little overwhelmed, “it was really good?”

“Well remember it because I am still not dancing” Trying not to cry the declaration ripping through your chest. Namjoon started explaining the meaning behind black swan you looked at your shaking hands “I have to go I really can’t do this” you tried to push past them as you staggered off down the hallway wiping your eyes on your sleeve. 

“It was nice” You froze the gravelly tone made you turn. Yoongi walked over and placed his hand on your head awkwardly patting it. While refusing to look at you. “I have never seen anyone move like that to my songs before, it made it seem like it was something more I don’t know beautiful it looked like actual art” 

He shuffled looking a bit nervous. Walking away leaving you dumbfounded. Sure it was one thing to hear. ‘You are so good’  but it was another to hear the sincerity in someone’s voice as they said something as deep and meaningful about your dancing like Yoongi had said to you. He called your dancing ‘Art’ for crying out loud. That’s the highest compliment you could possibly think of at this moment.

[Part 1] [Part 3]  [Tag Yourself Here]

[clumsyclifford]

prompt: alex says goodnight to the horses and when he gets back inside jack has tea waiting for him made perfectly

you know i really didnt think i would write this tonight but then i did

ao3 link!

-

It’s getting chilly out, but damn it, that is not going to stop Alex. His horses are his best friends. They deserve goodnight wishes as much as anyone else. Sometimes he likes them more than his actual best friends, if only because they won’t ever tell him to stop talking about the possibility of life on another planet or eat the last Oreo but put the empty package back in the tour bus cabinet because they thought it’d be a funny prank. (Rian.) 

Horses aren’t super chatty, sure, but at least they’re not assholes.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he says, smiling as he walks up to the stables, where he can see Theo and Beaux. Their eyes are still open but they’ll be asleep soon. They’re like old people in that way; always asleep before nine o’clock, these guys. “Hi, beautiful. Hi, you guys. Hey.” 

They say nothing, predictably, so Alex walks first up to Beaux. “Goodnight, honey,” he says, tenderly kissing the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t smell great. Maybe tomorrow they should wash the horses. Or maybe on Monday. Alex isn’t sure he’ll feel like doing it tomorrow, though he knows it has to be done regardless. “Sleep well. Dream of carrots. Dream of…of winning a horse race. Not that I’d ever make you race. I’m not a monster.”

Beaux doesn’t answer, just snuffles loudly. Alex laughs. “I wouldn’t! I swear. Anyway, you wouldn’t last a minute in a real horse race, you lazy fucker.” He pats Beaux’s nose affectionately, strokes it once more. “Alright. Goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

A few steps leads him to Theo’s stable, where Theo has been watching him patiently until Alex reaches him. “Hey,” Alex says softly. “You look tired, man. Long day? Hey, why the long face?” He chuckles to himself. “That’s not even a funny joke. I think I’m getting old, Theo. I’m way too much of a dad for someone without kids.” Although he’s not really childless, is he? He’s got all these animals to take care of, and surely that’s the same thing. Or at least similar. Someone’s got to have done a psychological study on the effects of having pets instead of kids. They can’t be that different. After all, Alex is here tucking them in. That’s pretty fatherly.

Theo nudges at Alex shoulder. “Okay, shit,” Alex says, smiling. “I’m getting to it.” He pauses for effect. “Goodnight, Theo.” Rubbing a hand affectionately over Theo’s nose, he adds, “Dream of beating Beaux in a horse race.”

Theo also snuffles. Maybe, Alex muses, it’s the horse way of saying goodnight. Though they kind of do it all the time, so maybe not. Alex should look into that. After he looks into the whole pets-as-kids thing. His to-Google list is growing by the minute. 

His hands are also getting cold, so he quickly kisses Theo’s nose and pats his cheek. “Sleep well. Sweet dreams. Love you both. See you in the morning.” And he backs away, rubbing his palms together.

The farm might look eerie at night to a stranger, but to Alex it’s familiar enough not to scare him anymore. Now it feels almost like a summer camp, and Alex feels like a rogue camper out of bed past quiet hours. The world is his oyster. Maybe one night they ought to take some blankets out and stargaze. Glancing up, Alex can see a smattering of stars overhead, and for a moment he’s distracted and slows to a stop just to stare.

The stars are so beautiful out here. The sky is so pretty. Alex dedicates a lot of brainpower towards thinking about the galaxy — probably more than is healthy — but when he’d been living in L.A. it had always been something of a distant train of thought, because there’s so much light pollution in L.A. that the stars are more fantasy than reality.

Here, though, in rural Maryland, a fair distance away from civilization, the stars overhead had been what had sealed the deal for Alex, when they’d been thinking about whether or not they ought to buy a farm. And now, head tilted far back to gaze up into the sky, Alex thinks they made the right choice.

Fuck, it’s pretty out here. The universe is capable of creating such lovely things.

When it’s been long enough, Alex shakes himself out of his reverie. The cold is seeping into his skin everywhere it’s exposed to air, and his hands are starting to feel more like ice blocks attached to the ends of his arms. He tucks them under his armpits and continues his trek to the house.

“Back,” he calls out as he enters through the front door. It’s nice and warm inside, but Alex’s hands are still really fucking cold, so he puts them back under his arms as he nudges the door shut with his hip.

“How did it go? Have they said goodnight back yet?”

“Not yet,” Alex says, following the voice to the kitchen, “but any day now. I can feel it.” He pauses. “Whatcha doin’?”

Jack looks up at him, but he doesn’t stop stirring the mug. “Making tea,” he says. “What’s it look like?”

Alex blinks. “Making tea?”

“Yeah,” Jack says. “For you.”

“For me?”

“Well, I don’t like tea,” Jack says, which is patently untrue, but whatever. “Yeah. It’s kinda cold out, and you always make yourself tea after you get back from saying goodnight to the horses, so I thought I’d kinda, you know, cut out the middleman or — whatever, the point is I made your tea for you so you wouldn’t have to.”

Alex steps towards Jack, who pushes the mug across the island towards him. There’s steam rising off the top, and the color looks right, but honestly Alex hadn’t realized Jack ever paid attention when Alex made tea. “What…is in this?”

Jack raises his eyebrows. “Cocaine and dog food. What the fuck do you think, it’s tea. Milk and sugar. How you like it.”

Alex feels a fond smile cross his face. “This is so cute,” he says, reaching for the tea and wrapping his hands around the mug. It’s too hot and he has to pull his hands away after a couple seconds, but he can’t stop smiling. “You made my tea.”

“Yeah,” Jack says. He looks pleased. “Well, I hope I didn’t fuck it up. You should probably try it before you tell me it’s cute.”

“I didn’t say it was good, I said it was cute,” Alex says. “Which it is.” He abandons the tea for a moment in favor of approaching Jack, who’s cozy in an orange hoodie and black sweats, hair mussed up from the day. Still, in his dressed-down state, Alex has never seen anything more beautiful than Jack.

He brings his hands up to press against Jack’s cheeks. Jack jerks. “Fuck, your hands are freezing!”

“It’s cold outside,” Alex says, smiling still. He doesn’t move his hands away and Jack doesn’t make any effort to. “I love you.”

“It’s just tea,” Jack says quietly.

Alex kisses him. Jack’s lips are warm on Alex’s cold ones, but it’s nice — almost like Jack can reset Alex’s internal temperature, like the very act of their being together is enough to achieve perfect equilibrium. Kissing Jack might not be a cure-all, but it absolutely is a cure-most, and Alex cashes in whenever he can possibly find a reason to, and frequently even when he can’t.

And Jack’s made Alex’s tea. Jack has made himself a part of one of Alex’s favorite nighttime rituals. Alex is so in love he doesn’t have the words.

“Thank you for the tea,” he whispers, stealing one more kiss before stepping away and picking up the mug. Jack has a silly smile on his face that he’s trying his best to hide. Alex waits a moment, blows away the steam over the mug, then lifts it to his lips and takes a careful sip.

It tastes just right, and somehow Alex is both surprised and not. Sure, Jack keeps him company every evening while he puts together his nightly tea, but Alex never expected Jack to be paying attention. It’s just tea, like Jack had said. Not the kind of detail boyfriends are necessarily supposed to remember about each other.

On the other hand, though, Alex is the luckiest man alive to have Jack, and Jack is constantly surprising him. And Jack is much better at proving his love than saying it, so of course he remembers how Alex takes his tea. Of course he would make it.

“I poisoned it, by the way,” Jack says, just as Alex swallows. 

Alex laughs. “Well, it’s not affecting the taste at all. It tastes amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Jack. Literally perfect. You got it exactly right. This might be the best cup of tea I’ve ever had.”

“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

It is the best cup of tea Alex has ever had, actually. Not because it tastes good — sure, it tastes good, but after a certain point a good cup of tea is just a good cup of tea — but because Jack had made it. Obviously that’s too cheesy to say, so Alex just thinks it really hard, figuring Jack will probably get it anyway from his face.

Jack slides in his socks over to Alex’s side and wraps his arms around Alex’s waist. His chin digs into Alex’s shoulder. “Lemme taste.”

Alex sighs, grins. He lifts the mug up, trying to glance down to see where Jack’s mouth kind of is, and when he’s pretty sure it’s in the right place he carefully tilts it. Against all odds, nothing spills. Jack takes a sip, and Alex brings the mug close to his chest again.

“It’s actually pretty good,” says Jack. “Maybe I should have made myself a cup too.”

“You can share mine.”

Jack hums. He squeezes Alex’s middle, pressing himself flush against Alex’s back, even closer than he’d been. “That’s okay. I’m good right here.”

“Don’t wanna sit down or something?”

“Can’t hug you if we’re sitting.”

“That is true,” Alex concedes. “But I can look at you, which I would love to do.”

Jack scoffs. “I’m nothing to look at, babe. I’m literally in sweats.”

Nobody in the world has ever made sweats look as good as Jack does, is the thing. “I know,” Alex says. “But I just like looking at you. Don’t call me cheesy. I already know you’re going to, so stop it.”

“That’s just cheesy as fuck,” Jack says anyway, kissing Alex’s cheek. “You’re gonna get cheese in your tea.”

“That’s so gross, can you imagine tea with cheese?”

“I bet that’s a thing. In Asia or something. They make some weird shit over there.”

Alex chuckles. “Maybe.” He sets the mug down on the island and turns around in Jack’s arms, and Jack doesn’t protests, though he also doesn’t move his arms away, and they remain encircling Alex’s waist, linked behind his back. Alex brushes his palms over Jack’s shoulders, smoothing the fabric of his hoodie, and curls his fingers around Jack’s neck, which is warm like the rest of him. “You’re a good-looking guy, you know that?”

“I do know that,” Jack says, smiling so so softly. He doesn’t smile like that for just anyone, Alex knows; it’s a special Jack smile, only for Alex. “You’re a pretty handsome boy yourself.”

Alex kisses him again, just for the hell of it. Because he can. Because he’s got Jack in his arms, prettier than any other fucking thing; because Jack’s his boyfriend and that means Alex gets to kiss him whenever; because he loves Jack, is in love with Jack, and sometimes kissing him is the only way to adequately communicate that. 

They show love in different ways. Alex says it aloud, traces it into Jack’s skin, brands him with touches and kisses to remind him.

Jack makes Alex tea.

“Love you,” he murmurs again, though he’s already said it. Jack could call him on it, but instead he does that rare Jack smile again.

“Love you more,” he breathes, before capturing Alex’s mouth with his own.

The universe truly is capable of creating such lovely things. And if a sky full of stars is a home run, then Jack Barakat is a grand fucking slam. 

[cheswirls]

you won't remember / i won't forget  [ 2/2 ]

sabo shivers where he stands as ace digs for his house key. he’s in a long-sleeve shirt and ace’s red coat, but it’s snowing, and they had walked slow to get here after sabo nearly tripped on a patch of ice.

a ting greets sabo’s ears, and ace finally slots the key into the lock, pulling him and the door in. it’s not near as cold inside as it is out, and sabo stands there a moment to bask in the warmth, his breaths no longer visible in the air. 

their place is very small. there’s one door that sabo suspects leads to a bathroom, and a nook that breaks the squareness of the space to house a kitchenette. ace is quick to sit sabo down on the futon and replace the damp coat with a soft blanket. he pulls his jacket off and sighs as he drapes it over a hanger. “do you want anything to eat?” he asks, wandering back over.

“everything,” sabo answers.

ace looks more amused with this response than anything, stopping short. “you’re that hungry?”

“no.” sabo shakes his head. “i want to try everything. i haven’t had anything but hospital food for months. i want to know what real food tastes like.”

ace snorts. “right,” he says, but he’s already moving to the cabinets.

sabo takes a small paper plate and samples everything he’s given. corn chips, pickles, jerky. “salty,” he keeps repeating, like he can’t believe it. ace has a hard time not laughing at the sight. he does laugh when sabo tries a red pepper and makes a face as he crunches on it.

“not that one,” he says between breaths. 

“not that one,” sabo echoes in a mutter.

-

ace walks him to cognitive therapy. it’s warmer out, without the snow on the ground, though still cold enough for them both to be bundled up the best they could be. ace ties sabo’s blue scarf for him, then throws his own coat over the blond’s shoulders. he tugs it off before sabo heads inside, though, and this is how he knows to say ace walked him there, and not, oh, ace dropped me off, but he’ll be back later.

sabo comes out two hours later tired and exhausted and tired again with nothing to show for it. ace is waiting for him on the steps. sabo thinks about berating him for staying so long in the cold, but he walks into ace’s arms instead, held in his embrace while he tries to calm his aching heart.

“it’s going to take some time,” ace murmurs, right by his ear. “if it even works at all.”

sabo doesn’t want to hear that. he presses himself further into ace. “give me the coat,” he mumbles, and ace complies.

-

sabo learns how to organize his thoughts and retain information and seek out the feelings, but he makes no progress recovering his memories. he feels drained every time he leaves a session, having spent hours tracking movements and listening to sounds and even letting his mind be hypnotized, at one point. nothing is working.

he tells his caseworker this, one day, when asked how he felt about his progress.

“do you want to quit?” he had asked.

sabo has yet to give him an answer.

-

sabo showers late one night and throws back on the same shirt he’d worn before. the floor is cold, so he puts the same socks on his feet. it’s dark in their room, so after closing the bathroom door, he wanders over to flick on the small light above the stove, give the space a little ambiance. 

he sits on the futon and gathers a blanket around his form, folding his legs up and leaning against the wall. he could go to sleep. he should go to sleep. he knows this, but it’s so quiet, and he doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. he wants ace to come home.

he wants ace.

sabo waits for a long time. he’s hardly awake when the door opens, head slumped against his arms, and he doesn’t rise when it closes again. 

“hey,” ace says, voice quiet. 

sabo shifts his face up and attempts to blow the hair from his eyes. it falls right back into place. “how was work?”

“work is fine. how are you?” 

“tired.”

“i didn’t think you’d be awake,” ace admits, sitting in front of sabo.

sabo glances down. “yet you bought flowers,” he mumbles.

ace glances down, too, smiling at the bouquet. “well, maybe i had a suspicion. mostly i had an idea.”

sabo raises a brow. “i’m listening,” he says, moving his legs down. ace sets the daisies in his lap and reaches to push one of sabo’s sleeves up, turning his arm forward. sabo blinks rapidly but lets him do it, only growing more curious as he pulls a stem from the bunch and holds one of the daisies near the scar tissue.

“pretty, right?” ace murmurs, pressing the white petals to his skin. “what about a tattoo?”

“of flowers?” sabo says blandly.

ace shrugs. “why not? you could get a whole line of them, right up your arm. i’m not saying it has to be now, it definitely can’t be right now, but i know someone i’d trust to do it in the future, if you want.”

sabo takes the daisy in one hand and slips his other hand into ace’s. he holds the flower to his face and sniffs, and his expression softens as he clings to ace’s cold fingers. “i’ll think about it,” he promises. 

ace rubs his thumb over the back of sabo’s hand and gives him the rest of the flowers. sabo sets them all to the side in favor of pulling ace close, until he’s knelt before him, and his knees are on either side of ace’s waist. he reaches up to grab ace’s face and bring him close, all while his mind repeats the same question, do you want to quit, over and over and over again.

nothing was guaranteed to work. he knew this. but he owed it to ace to keep trying. that’s what he kept telling himself, and yet here he was, falling apart for something that was only a chance. at some point he had to start being selfish, put himself first.

he doesn’t even notice he’s crying until ace pulls back and reaches up to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye. sabo blinks, and his face is wet, and ace leans back further, his gaze questioning.

“are you okay?” he asks.

“no,” sabo answers, and he can feel all his hopelessness put into the word.

ace frowns. he looks unsure, and his next question is hesitant. “did you . . remember something?”

“no,” sabo says again, and this time his voice breaks. and then ace understands, and he bends in close, wiping sabo’s face as the tears start falling again.

“shhh, sabo, it’s okay,” he whispers. “no one is forcing you to rush. did your therapist say something?”

“no.”

“do you want to talk about it?”

“no.”

do you want to quit?

“no. no. no,” sabo repeats, lifting his hands to shield his face. ace takes them and gently pries them away, refusing to let him be alone. he leans his forehead to sabo’s hairline, closes his eyes.

“hey, sabo. i love you. i know it’s been a while since i’ve said it, but that doesn’t make it any less true. i’ve loved you for a long time, and i’ll keep loving you for even longer. no matter what. i mean that. no matter what happens, no matter what you decide to do, i want you to know my love for you won’t go away. so you do whatever you have to do, and i’ll support your decision. i’m here for you. i’ve always been here, and i always will be here. nothing is going to change that.”

“i’m sorry,” sabo gasps, hands still trapped between ace’s. “i’m sorry,” he says, because he can’t say it back. because the feelings are there but it doesn’t feel right to parrot back words he’s unsure of, even after all this time. 

“shhh,” ace whispers, releasing his hands to pull his body closer. he feels sabo’s arms go to wrap around his back. “you don’t need to feel sorry,” he breathes. “you just need to be sabo. the current sabo. and everything will sort itself out from there.”

sabo is asleep before ace gets out from his shower. he gathers the flowers, hooks them through the doorjamb, and makes his way across the room in the dark.

-

sabo uses ace’s phone to call and cancel his psych appointment. ace is still asleep, and he really needs some air, so he grabs the house key and slips on his shoes.

the bouquet greets him at the door. sabo takes it in his arms and slides the door shut, careful not to make any noise.

the daisies don’t take long to start wilting from the cold. sabo empathizes with them.

-

ace starts coming home later and sabo decidedly feels useless. he’s not contributing to anything. he’s not doing anything. at least he had things to look forward to, when he was at the hospital. now, nothing is new, and nothing is exciting. at least at the hospital, ace was there, right until he fell asleep, and then back again when he woke up. 

he doesn’t mean to bring it up one night. it just happens, the “you’re hardly ever here” spilling from his lips before he can stop it.

ace pauses stirring, holding the spoon steady. “i know. it’ll get better. i promise.”

“you’ve been saying that for months now.”

he reaches out to turn the burner to low. “and hasn’t it? gotten better? you’re not in the hospital anymore. you’re alive. that’s more than i ever could have imagined, back then. we have this place, and food, and i’m here right now, and you’re here right now. i’m not lying to you, sabo. things aren’t perfect, no, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t gotten better.”

“you’re not lying to me. but i think you’re lying to yourself, ace.”

ace turns the stove off and puts a lid over the pot to seal the warmth. “how?”

a rustling lets him know sabo is standing. “when are you going to admit that i’m not the person you fell in love with?”

ace pauses, as he sets the spoon in the sink. “i fell in love with sabo,” he says, turning. 

“i gave him my name. i gave him a cherry ring pop, and we ran away from home. we chased the high in a car, and mapped an adventure across the country. we sold the car to a scrapyard and he insisted we drag the tires all the way to a secondhand store. most damn money he ever made, in a day. then he found us this little hovel, and we started camping out there.”

sabo feels his heart sink, as ace proves him right.

“i gave him my time, my patience, my outstanding humor. my outlandish remarks. so much grief he should’ve gotten rid of me long ago. another cherry ring pop, and a goodbye kiss. and then a promise, behind the curtains of an icu room.” ace takes a deep breath, and sabo looks up, stuck on his last sentence until it fades into more.

“i gave him my name, again. to anyone who would listen. told them the blond kid? the one who was unconscious in a coma after surgery? his name was sabo portgas.

“i gave him skittles in a hospital room. i gave him all my time, all my patience. i told him his name and my name every time he woke up, then watched as the nurse came back in and he treated her like it was the first instance they’d met. he was brash and abrasive and distrustful, it was like i had stepped back in time, like i was wooing nine-year-old sabo all over again. like the essence of him was still there, even if he forgot again when he woke up.

“i gave him information, but he changed it, morphed it. suddenly his favorite color wasn’t blue, it was red. suddenly he had battle scars he wasn’t proud of. suddenly he was letting his hair grow out, even after years and years of complaining that it would get in the way.” ace pauses, moving closer, until he can lift sabo’s head up in his hands.

“i fell in love with sabo,” he confesses. “there’s no end, and there’s no beginning. he’s one person, accident or no, memories or no. things will change, but nothing is going to change that.” ace huffs out a breathy laugh, and swipes his thumbs under sabo’s eyes to collect the tears before they fall. 

sabo squeezes his eyes shut, sniffs. “i don’t deserve you.”

“i think we make a perfect match,” ace counters. 

later, when they’re both curled up on the futon, sabo will surprise them both.

“blue raspberry,” he mumbles, head pillowed on ace’s chest.

“for what?” ace hums.

“the ring pop,” sabo slurs. “i wanted cherry, but they were out. the only thing close was strawberry, but you got blue raspberry, because-” he breaks off, suddenly.

ace, who had been wide awake from the second sentence, slowly tightens his arms around sabo’s middle. “because what?” he asks softly.

“because it matched my eyes,” sabo finishes. “so i took it.”

“and then?” ace prompts.

“it was really sour, and i couldn’t stand it. so i gave it to you instead.”

“and then?”

“you broke off the plastic ring from the bottom and gave it back. said you would get cherry next time. made it a promise, on the ring.”

“and then?”

“i became sabo portgas, right there in the parking lot.”

sabo grows quiet after that. ace waits a little, then leans closer. “what’s next?” he whispers, right in sabo’s ear.

sabo picks his head up to rest his chin on ace’s chest, facing him. “i don’t know,” he admits. “that’s all i got.” he bites down on his lip, as the gleam in ace’s eyes refuses to die out. “don’t get too excited, okay? that’s the only thing. if this-” he said not to, but he’s the one biting on his cheeks to keep from grinning like a madman. “if this is happening, then taking it slow would be better.”

“i got cherry, the second time,” ace tells him.

“yeah, you told me that.” sabo rolls his eyes. “slowly, okay?”

“whatever you want.”

-

the vase sabo had been moving to the sink never makes it, slipping from his hands and shattering on the tile instead.

sabo flinches at the noise, takes one step back, and then sighs, dropping his outstretched hand down to his side. “shit.” well, it could have been worse. it could’ve already had the water in it, and then the floor would be soaked too. 

sabo frowns as he stares at the mess. the impact echoes in his ears, and he shakes his head to ring it out. 

a hand lands on his shoulder. sabo startles, bad, and jumps forward, crunching glass underneath his shoes. he breathes out and whips around, sending more of the glass sliding around the tile. ace stands with his hand still raised, mirroring sabo’s surprised expression. sabo closes his eyes, presses a hand to his forehead.

“sorry, i thought you heard me come in.” ace walks forward and nudges sabo out of the glass, careful when he grips his arms to pull him to the edge of the kitchen. 

“no,” sabo admits. he’s still trying to process. why the glass sounded familiar, and why it was almost muscle memory that had him moving from any sort of contact after. he can’t come up with anything, which is an ever continuous cycle of annoying and bemusing. 

they don’t have a broom, sabo realizes, and he steps forward again. “here, let me-” he starts, bending down to gather the bigger shards. ace catches his wrist and shakes his head until he’s standing again.

“don’t. you’ll cut yourself. i got it.”

sabo bites down on his lip and resigns himself to watching as ace folds a paper towel and sweeps all the glass onto a plate. he moves around the tile with a wet one next, collecting the pieces that had crumbled so small they were only noticeable by the shine in the cracks between tiles. 

“are you okay?” ace asks, once he’s disposed of it all. “you were holding your head earlier.”

“yeah, i’m fine.” sabo shrugs. “i don’t know -i think it reminded me of something? but i can’t figure out what,” he confesses.

“beats me,” ace says. sabo can’t help the sting, hoping that if he was honest, ace would tell him. he still hadn’t remembered anything past that one day, and it was starting to wear on him again.

“have-” he cuts himself off before he can start. if ace didn’t know, he didn’t know. there was no point asking. “nevermind.”

ace lets it go in favor of retrieving an envelope from his coat. “food stamps came in. wanna go shopping?”

“yeah.” sabo puts on a smile and lets it go. it wouldn’t be best to dwell. “that sounds great.”

-

they meet up late in the evening by the car. sabo is rounding the side when he catches sight of ace’s messy hair. he’s waiting for him on the bumper, looking up at the sky. sabo stops short and smiles. he must shuffle some gravel, because ace turns his head, and then he’s smiling too.

“hey. kept me waiting. what did you do?”

“i painted a house today.” his smile turns lopsided. ace notices.

“are you okay?”

“i feel kinda woozy,” sabo admits. he takes a step and drags his hand along the rim of the truck for balance, and ace jumps up.

“here, c’mon, you should lay down before we do anything.” he helps situate sabo in the truckbed and sighs as he squats next to him. 

“here,” sabo mumbles, digging out a wad of cash. ace takes it and flips through it.

“hm, pretty good.” he pulls out a bigger roll from his shorts and fans it in front of sabo’s face. “not as good as me though!”

“aww!” sabo whines. “how come you always win?”

“guess i just find better things to do.”

“cheater,” sabo grumbles.

ace doesn’t comment on that. “you still smell paint?” he asks instead.

“a little. my head just . . ugh, feels weird,” he mumbles. 

“want to-”

a buzzing rouses sabo from sleep. he peels his eyes open as ace extracts himself enough to reach out and silence his phone. he moves back to bury his face in sabo’s hair, and sabo allows it for a moment before turning around to push him away. ace groans, his arms tightening around sabo’s middle.

“no,” sabo insists. “if you don’t get up now you won’t at all.”

ace, knowing this, sighs and finally pulls back. “i hate it when you’re right.”

sabo doesn’t go back to sleep in favor of watching ace move around the room. he sits up after a minute, leaning against the wall, blanket draped over his form. “hey, can we talk for a minute?”

ace glances over, then resumes his task. “yeah,” he answers, voice still raspy from sleep. he comes back over eventually and settles himself in front of sabo.

“i dreamed something,” sabo reveals. “i’m not sure what to make of it, or if it’s even real, so . .”

“tell me,” ace insists, suddenly more awake. sabo recounts the dream and watches his expression morph.

“what did we do with the money?”

“at first i thought we would eat good, but it took a long time for you to start feeling better.” ace shrugs. “spent most of it on medicine and gas, then headed somewhere new.”

“how long did we stay somewhere?” sabo asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“depends. if there was work and we didn’t run into trouble, a few weeks at most. some places we’d stop for some food and make the decision to try somewhere else.”

“trouble,” sabo mutters.

“ah, that was on me.” ace shrugs as sabo looks up. “well, it’s okay if that never comes back.”

“what do you think caused this?” sabo frowns. “it’s not like we were talking about anything before i fell asleep.”

“i’m not a doctor, sab. don’t have that answer.”

“right. uh, sorry.”

“hey, it’s okay. thanks for telling me. was there anything else . . ?”

“go to work,” sabo drones.

“right, okay. see ya.”

ace leaves and sabo unfolds himself until he can stand. he sets his resolve as he pulls on his shoes.

-

“you got a job?!”

“yeah, i think so,” sabo mutters around his food. he reaches out and rips off another piece of bread, munching on it.

“where at?”

“the library on the corne- what? what is it?”

“nothin’.” ace shrugs, still smiling. “just suits you, is all.”

“thanks, i guess.”

“when do you start?”

“they have to call me back.”

“but you got it?”

“i think so.”

ace frowns. “wait, call you back?”

“aha. about that.”

ace is already sliding out his phone. “i guess you could keep it for a few days,” he mutters. “and don’t apologize! if that was your only option, it’s fine.”

sabo wisely closes his mouth and goes back to eating.

“would i have done this?” he asks later. “before?”

ace hums. “dunno. does it matter? you’re doing it now.”

“that’s not what i meant. i just . . sometimes i get curious, about what i was like.”

“the only thing that matters is who you are right now,” ace reminds him gently. “nothing should influence that. the past sabo has no right to the current sabo.”

sabo thinks on this for a long time before deciding he didn’t quite agree. if wasn’t like the two were separate. as slow as it was, he was regaining memories. what happened when he reached the point where his old self felt just as much him as his current self? 

what happened when he regained enough sense to merge the two?

-

sabo is clearing books from an abandoned table when he spots ace in the corner. he gathers the stack in his arms and walks over, stopping right before his seat.

“what are you doing?” he asks, as ace looks up.

“can i not sit here?” ace says drily. sabo gives him a look and he relents. “okay, okay. i thought i would wait for you. better than being at home alone.”

“i’m not off for another few hours.”

“that’s fine!” ace beams up at him as sabo turns suspicious. “just being around you is enough,” he admits.

sabo looks away, the heat bubbling to his face. “sap,” he mutters.

“go do your job. i’ll be fine! promise.”

sabo nods one more time before moving into the stacks. he takes a moment to cool off and then heads to the back with the books.

when he’s done for the night, he moves back to ace’s spot only to find him asleep, head nestled in his arms piled on the table. sabo rolls his eyes and bends by the chair legs. he runs a hand through ace’s hair until he makes a soft sound.

“ace,” he tries. “it’s time to wake up.”

“mm- wha-?” ace shifts his head as his eyes open. sabo lets his hand fall away.

“hey. let’s go.”

“sa-” ace interrupts himself with a yawn. he lifts his head from the table, glances around. “where are we?” he mumbles.

“library.”

“why?”

“you tell me,” he hums, pulling the chair back. ace grabs hold of the arms to steady himself, glaring up at sabo.

“how’s it going?” ace asks, once they’re out the door. he waits until they’re in the parking lot to swing his coat from his arms to sabo’s shoulders, pulling it around. 

“it’s good.” he catches one of ace’s hands before he can pull away, and tugs his scarf off with the other. 

“do you need more clothes?”

“i think-” sabo pauses to loop the scarf around ace’s head. “that if i keep this jacket zipped, no one will notice for a while.”

“yeah, that’s fair.” ace takes their joined hands and pulls sabo forward. 

“i like having something to do.”

“i don’t!” ace whines, swinging their arms. “i mean- that came out wrong.” he shrivels a little at sabo’s look. “i like knowing where you are,” he rephrases. “and i like coming home to you. it’s going to be different, not seeing you as much.”

“i got used to it,” sabo says quietly. ace squeezes his hand.

“i know it’s been hard to adjust. after i saw you so much in the hospital, anything less was bound to be rough to handle. but you’ve been amazingly considerate, for the most part, and i should learn to do the same.”

ace looks away when the crosswalk changes, though there’s no traffic. he steps forward but doesn’t get far, not when sabo’s not moving. he turns back and blanches when he sees tears running down the blond’s face.

“sabo, hey.” he steps closer again, raising his free hand to wipe sabo’s face. “did i say something wrong? what’s going on?”

“you’ve never said anything wrong.” sabo sniffles, blinks, lets fresh tears fall and blur his vision. “everything you say is so nice. sometimes i don’t know how to handle it. like now.” he sniffs again, lets ace wipe at his cheeks. “thank you. i know i don’t say it often enough, but really, thank you.”

“don’t mention it,” ace mumbles. he steps closer, and cradles sabo’s face in his hands, and lets the lights cast them in red. it shines on sabo’s cheeks, and in his bright hair, and ace knows going for a combo hit wouldn’t be the best idea, but he can’t help it. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, just loud enough for sabo to hear.

sabo laughs, a little shakily. “knocking me while i’m down, huh?”

ace shrugs. “i just told the truth.”

“i need to sit down before you say something else.”

“let’s cross the street first.” ace pulls on sabo’s arm and spins around. the street is still empty, so he moves them across, even under protest.

“but the light-”

“it’s good, sab. don’t worry so much about it. see?” he says, as they hit the sidewalk again. “no problem.”

“okay,” sabo mumbles.

they make it home without incident, and sabo starts thinking again. while ace is asleep, he pushes up his sleeves and looks at all the marks littering his arms in the dim glow of the bathroom. usually, he would have grouped all the injuries he had accumulated and gotten treatment in the hospital for as part of the same incident. but now he wasn’t sure. what if only some of them came from that, and the others from another event that occurred the same day? what if he was hurt, and then got into something like a car crash? 

sabo frowns. that didn’t sound right, but he was so lost, at this point. he had some puzzle pieces but no frame to match them to. he didn’t know what to think anymore.

-

“That boy is always out there waiting for you,” his supervisor calls out to him. sabo doesn’t stop walking toward the checkout, the last stack of spare books in his arms, but he does turn his head to look out one of the windows. it’s not hard to spot ace, a modest distance from the doors, face lit up by his phone. sabo looks back in a hurry, a light laugh bubbling in his throat.

“yeah, i guess,” he replies. his supervisor doesn’t say anything more. not until he’s leaving, anyway.

“you two get home safe,” she tells him, waving him out the door. sabo ducks his head.

“right,” he mutters, stepping outside.

ace pockets his phone as sabo comes through the door. he tips his head at the frown suddenly on sabo’s face. “what’s wrong?”

“it’s too cold to be waiting out here,” he protests, stepping closer to rub ace’s free hands with his warmer ones. ace shrugs.

“it’s been getting warmer, actually.” he uses the grip to pull sabo towards him. “but if you wanna warm me up, i won’t complain.”

“of course you won’t,” sabo mutters. “hey, don’t wait up tomorrow. i’ll be home late.”

ace shrugs, pulling them both down the street. “yeah, i might get off at a weird time anyway, so i doubt i’ll see you until you get home.”

“perfect,” sabo says, a little absently, then freezes up at his mistake.

ace watches him closely. “yeah? got a surprise or somethin’?”

“guess you’ll have to wait and see!” sabo smiles cheekily, throws up a peace sign, then dashes down the street. ace lets out a startled shout before running to catch up.

-

it’s snowing when sabo wakes up.

guess the good weather couldn’t last forever, he thinks, as he steps outside. he wraps his scarf over his head but it does little to help. when he makes it to work he stops on the doormat to dust himself off, covered in fresh powder. it was already piled high on the ground, too.

it’s still snowing when he gets off, the thick white blanket offsetting the night, still bright enough to see even without the sun. “be careful out there,” his supervisor tells him, before he leaves. 

sabo stands under the awning for a minute, debating going straight home while he crunches a few bills in his jacket pocket. the wind wasn’t bad, really, but it was snowing pretty heavily, and it was likely to pick up soon.

but. sabo bites down on his lip.

no. he wasn’t going to be deterred.

he stamps his feet in the entryway once he’s through the door of the gas station, breathing out a sign as his face slowly stops stinging. the cashier glances outside after scanning his item, looking from sabo’s meek winter wear to the worsening weather.

“be careful out there,” he tells sabo, an echo of the woman from the library. he nods, adjusts his scarf, and braces himself as he steps back out into the snow.

the walk home is not great. he’s trudging through the snow at this point. his socks are wet. he can’t see very well, even with all the street lights. this was not a good choice in hindsight, he thinks, and then the sky lights up.

a low rumble of thunder cuts in, and sabo blinks, pausing in his step to process. that was lightning. was it because of the temperature change? because it was snowing so much? sabo didn’t know it could thunder while it was snowing.

hm. well, he was almost home. if he waited around it would only get worse, and he had promised ace he would be late, not not there at all.

with that in mind, he picks up his pace, jogging until he hits a streetlight, tightening his grip on his earlier purchase, safe inside his pocket. he breathes out in annoyance, moving in place to stay warm, then perks up as he remembers something.

a gust of wind cuts past, and sabo brings up an arm to shield his face. he glances back and forth to confirm the street was clear, then breaks off from the sidewalk. at least the roads weren’t piled with snow like the walkways were, having been stamped down by passing traffic. the only thing that was worse was the ice, which-

sabo’s breath catches as his heel hooks onto a smooth patch, unsteadying him. he throws his arms out to regain balance, stepping off from the ice. well. could’ve been worse, he thinks, as he guards himself from another wind gust and steps forwa

sabo comes to with a wince as a light shines in his eye. his eye is closed again and his mouth falls open in a grunt. voices speak in urgent tones above him. he might hear a siren, and oh, that would explain the flashes behind his eyelids.

his hand crumples the plastic packaging in his pocket. it’s the last thing he registers.

-

sabo yawns into his hand as he makes it up the last of the steps, pushing out with his free one to shove at the door. since it didn’t have a doorknob, he wasn’t overly concerned over the fact it wasn’t already pushed into the frame. it happened often enough.

“ace, i’m home,” he calls out, rubbing at his eyes. he walks several paces into the house, not noticing the wind passing easily through the broken window panes. if anything, their place is already drafty, so when he trips over the glass shards on the ground, he only frowns down at the mess.

“what broke?” he mumbles, finally dropping his arms. actually, they definitely didn’t own anything made of glass, so-

sabo looks up as a hand settles on his shoulder, but he’s thrown into the wall before he can make out a face. someone else comes up, complexion hidden by the shadows, and thrusts a damp rag into sabo’s face, holding it there as a hand tightens around his neck.

he passes out almost instantaneously.

sabo comes to hazily. his head is down so he’s staring at his lap. he has enough awareness to realize he’s sitting up, his legs bound to something hard, but not enough sense of self-preservation to control the harsh exhale through his nose. there’s something tied to his mouth, and the air feels heavy, laced with something that keeps him dizzy. he can’t find the strength to raise his head, and it’s probably the only thing that keeps the others in the room from taking notice of his waking. his hands are bound too, tied tight against something flat out in front of him. sabo takes note of voices, but they’re too low for him to make anything out. he doesn’t pay attention until he recognizes ace’s among them.

“i got it. it’s yours. i’ll- it’s-” ace breaks off with a huff. “nothing is in the house. it’s in the wall in the building behind it. there’s a loose brick, about four down and-” he continues but sabo loses track of the words with the pressure on the back of his neck. he winces sharply, and it must be loud enough to be heard through the rag, because the pinch grows tighter, and someone is lifting his face up. sabo’s eyes blink open, but it’s heavy, and they don’t expand anymore than halfway before the light grows too intense to bear.

“sabo-” ace starts, voice loud and startled, but he’s cut off.

“v, go and check. bring j with you. make sure you count everything. if it’s not all there, call me.”

sabo squints and the hand holding his head releases him. he works hard to keep it raised, leaning right with the effort. movement comes and goes, but he still can’t make out much. he tries to move his eyes left, where he heard ace’s voice, but it’s hard.

“everything is there,” ace promises, sounding on the edge of desperation.

“oh i don’t doubt that. you seem pretty desperate. there’s another matter we have to settle, though.”

the voice moves closer, and sabo tenses as something enters his peripheral. he flexes his fingers, but his wrists are bound so tight that even that hurts.

“you hurt m pretty bad. poor guy won’t be moving easy for a bit. sucks, y’know? one of my best men, gone just like that. you sure aren’t an easy guy to please, portgas, but even that was going too far. so i started thinking to myself . .” 

he brandishes something that gleams in the light, and ace sucks in a breath, and sabo blinks, heavy, thinking his eyes must be playing tricks on him.

but then the cold press of metal is on his forearm, edge digging into his skin, and the raspy voice is right by sabo’s head.

“since you hurt one of my boys, i’m going to hurt your boy.”

“wait-” ace says, but the knife rips down sabo’s arm before he can get anything else out, and sabo is screaming long before he can process where the cut stops at the rope binding his hands.

-

“sabo, listen to me,” ace says, and he tries. it hurts. he doesn’t know how long he’s been here, or when it started, or where the pain begins and where it ends, the damage too extensive. blood covers his forearms from thick cuts, spilling onto his legs, staining the carpet underneath. he’s dizzy, and he feels like throwing up. his breaths come in pants, and he can barely hear ace between them, everything else too loud in his ears. 

“if we get out of this, i promise i’ll do better. i’ll stop the dangerous shit. i’ll find something else to do. i’ll change, so please, please, you have to hold on.”

sabo doesn’t know if he nods or tries to or succeeds or fails. footsteps sound loud, echoing off the walls, and his brain short-circuits, pure, unadulterated fear flowing through him. he tenses his arms and blood leaks through the cuts and he chokes on a sob, the effort making his neck ache. there’s a weight on his chest that he can’t make out, and sabo squeezes his eyes shut in anticipation. 

-

ace flinches harsh at the loud noise. when he pries his eyes open, r is on the ground, a hole in his head. he’s slumped, but it doesn’t take long for the rest of him to tumble down, slamming into ace’s chair. he jerks forward but doesn’t tip over, thankfully. still, the motion is enough to jar him, and ace coughs hard, hunched over, blood dribbling from his mouth. 

someone comes the rest of the way down the narrow staircase and ace tenses, having enough instincts to spin his head around. a burly man steps down from the last step, eyeing ace through his shades with his gun still raised. he takes stock of the situation pretty quickly, lowering the arm to raise one with a receiver to his mouth. 

“there’s only one down here. i already took him out.”

static crackles in the next few, tense moments. “then hurry back up.”

he pockets the gun and the receiver and steps further into the room, grimacing at the blood that makes the carpet squishy underfoot. he moves his eyes away from ace to look down at the bloody bat r had used to bash sabo’s head in, kicking it away with a grunt. he looks to sabo next, still tied to the chair, and presses his lips tight until they turn pale. then he crouches next to r and checks his pulse.

“yep, he’s dead dead,” he mutters to himself. then he sighs. “should probably take the body . .” he turns his head over his shoulder to look at the stairs, sighs again, then hauls the corpse up. he doesn’t spare ace a second glance, leaving the room rapidly, and once he’s out of sight ace doesn’t spend another moment worrying about him, moving his fingers to wrestle with his restraints.

-

the house is silent when ace frees himself, breaking the chair to slide out the legs from between the rope. he collapses on the ground and gags and flips over onto his back and lies there for a moment, breathing. the action nearly makes him sick, so ace picks himself onto his knees as quick as he can manage, crossing across the soiled carpet to sabo’s chair. 

“you’re okay you have to be okay please be okay,” he mutters, leaning on the chair and reaching a hand up to brush the back of sabo’s head. the bleeding hasn’t stopped, and sabo’s unconscious, his head lolled far enough forward for ace to be dizzy with anger when he sees the injury there.

ace coughs again and curses as he spits blood onto sabo. he moves to a stand and sags against the chair, vision blurring, the room spinning. somehow he makes it to the stairs, using the wall to climb up and digging for his phone, thankful they hadn’t seen the need to take it. once he gets a signal he sags onto the railing, talking hurriedly into the speaker. he abandons it on the steps once he gets an affirmative, crawling back down to sabo to cut his restraints. he wants to pull him down but he’s afraid of moving him too much. he passes out before he can make a decision, slumped over one of the armrests, still holding tight to sabo to try and stop the bleeding.

-

sabo groans before he is fully conscious, the sound coming from closed lips. his eyes are sticky when he finally opens them. the smell of antiseptic is strong, but ace’s head is above his before he can look at his surroundings to gauge his location. 

“hey,” sabo mumbles, not liking the way his lips form the words. his face feels weird. his body hurts. 

“hey,” ace says lowly. there’s something unreadable to his expression, and sabo wants to pry it out and reveal its intentions. 

“what happened?” he asks instead.

ace’s lower lip worries, and he steadies it before answering. “what’s the last thing you remember?”

oh. sabo squints. okay, he can definitely see the distress rolling off ace in waves. so that was it. well, he supposes that was a valid reason.

“waking up to this cute nurse,” he says, because sabo is an asshole first and foremost. ace leans back and sabo looks him up and down. “or maybe you’re an intern,” he amends, eyes moving back to ace’s face.

he looks on the verge of tears, as he moves off the bed. sabo rolls his eyes.

“sit back down, ace. please.”

ace’s breath catches and he glares down at sabo. “you-”

“sorry, i guess i took that too far,” sabo apologizes. “i remember crossing the street. i think i almost slipped on a patch of ice.”

ace huffs and climbs onto the bed to sit even with sabo’s waist. he’s propped up slightly by the pillows, so it brings them close enough for ace to comfortably reach up and carefully cradle sabo’s face in both hands, thumbs gently smoothing over his brows. he relaxes into the hold. “i think you did slip, because a car rammed into you pretty badly. it’s unlike you to be distracted enough not to notice.”

“hmmm. no, i think it was snowing, so maybe i didn’t see.” sabo does his best to shrug. it feels weird. “it doesn’t matter, i guess. what happened after?”

ace’s hands still. “they brought you here.” his expression grows pained. “i’m your emergency contact, so they called me when you went into surgery.” he frowns. “i wasn’t even off work.”

sabo blinks, and god, that was right. he moves his hands up to rub at his eyes. “thinking about you with a real job is so weird. i don’t think i’ll ever get used to it.”

“i mean, you have one too.” ace pauses. “wait what?”

sabo pushes himself up off the pillows, dislodging ace’s hands. “my jacket,” he stammers. “you have it? where is it?”

“yeah, sure.” ace moves off the bed to pick up the jacket from the chair he’d been seated in. he passes it to sabo and watches as he roots through the pockets, hand clenching around something that crackles, and then leans over it, until his forehead is against his legs.

“ow,” he says after a moment, raising up again. one hand moves to his ribs. “what did i break?”

“a few ribs,” ace admits. “you have a lot of bruising. they did surgery for internal bleeding. it’s only been a handful of hours since then.” he nods to the window. “the sun’s barely been up an hour.”

“oh.” sabo crinkles the wrapper again. he turns his head to look at ace. “close your eyes, okay?”

ace wants to refute. he wants to talk about this, because sabo is saying some very familiar things, but they’re things he hasn’t heard in a long time. but he indulges him for the moment.

sabo takes the package from his jacket and tears it open. he frowns down at the contents, but he supposes it’s the best he could hope for. “hold out your hands,” he tells ace. his brow furrows, but he complies, cupping them together. 

sabo scoots to the edge of the mattress and pours purple candy shards and a distinct plastic shape into ace’s hands. ace frowns and wastes no time in opening his eyes to look at the mess. they catch on the blue ring in the center and blow wide, and he sits there staring at it without a word.

sabo sits back and tosses the wrapper away, unbothered by the candy crumbs it scatters. “they only had grape ring pops, where i went.”

ace frowns deeper. “this is such a mess. you want me to lick these off my hand? you don’t ever think these things through. how am i supposed to pick up the ring?”

“after enjoying the candy i bought you, duh.” sabo reaches forward to grab the ring base, but he must be a little forceful about it, because the motion topples the iv stand from the other side of the bed, sending it crashing against the mattress, and then to the ground, which pulls the iv clear out of his wrist. his “here, let me-” is cut off at the noise, and he holds down against his bleeding wrist with the hand holding the ring. “ow!”

“oh my god.” ace can’t help it when he laughs. “that’s not funny,” he says when sabo glares at him, but he’s still laughing. a nurse comes in to find them like that, takes one look at the iv on the ground, and leaves again.

the doctor comes in with her next, cutting off sabo’s words with his entrance.

“hm. i see you’re already being disruptive.”

he doesn’t appear angry or annoyed at the fact, and sabo thinks it might have been a joke, considering he had the same doctor, but he still looks away guiltily. “sorry,” he mutters.

“how are you feeling?” the doctor asks as he reinserts sabo’s iv. 

“like i got hit by a car.”

“oh, good. i’m happy to inform you that’s not an outlier, in your case.”

“you mean, considering i got hit by a car?”

the doctor raises his brows. “you have a lot more sass than i remember.” he moves his gaze to sabo’s other hand, and the ring pop base he has clutched in it. he tracks the rest to ace’s hand, the other slowly picking out bigger pieces to suck on, and scattering smaller bits with every movement. he sighs. “you know, i’ll come back later. it can wait.”

the nurse looks like she doesn’t quite agree with him, but she follows him back out without protest. sabo waits until the door is closed to lean back against the pillows, still sitting up, just with more support. he breathes out deep. “i’m exhausted.”

“you should probably explain this before you pass out.” ace motions to the candy.

“oh, right.” it takes little effort for sabo to break off the ring from the base, even considering how tired he was. he tosses the top half away and holds the plastic ring out to ace. “i’m giving you one back. i know it’s overdue.” he shrugs. “sorry it broke.”

“unavoidable, considering the circumstances.” ace’s eyes narrow as he sticks out a finger to put through the ring. “which were completely unavoidable. you scared me to death.”

sabo’s gaze drops to ace’s no-longer-ringless hand, and he grabs at it with both his own before ace can pull back. “you really have changed,” he murmurs, just loud enough for ace to hear, and his heart startles at the thought.

“you really do remember,” ace counters, voice faint as he tries to recall how to breathe.

sabo’s already shaking his head. “not all the way.” he suddenly looks very tired. “just that night.” he squints. “nights. however long we were there.”

ace winces. “and . . that made you want to do this?” he wiggles his fingers, the only thing he can manage with sabo’s hold.

“oh, no. like i said, it was overdue.” sabo’s lips purse. “i’ve been remembering more and more, but it’s not all back. a lot of it isn’t back. there are still a lot of gaps. but, i guess i remembered enough to figure you really were telling the truth, about being in love with me, and i realized i was in love with you, too.” he reaches out to slowly twist the ring around ace’s finger. his eyes are fixed to it. “and i know it might not all come back. but i don’t care anymore. and you’ve told me enough times that you don’t care, either. so i just thought . . . uhm. that i would, y’know, let myself be happy, and all.” his head is turned to the window, at this point. “and i promised that i would get you a ring, after my second one, so this is just me acting on that! it’s not a new idea or anything. it’s very un-spontaneous, actually.” his face breaks, as he releases ace’s hand and looks into his eyes. “sorry it broke,” he says, his voice wavering.

ace stands up and spills the rest of the crumbs and uses the same hand to tug sabo into a hug, careful of his chest. sabo doesn’t seem to mind, gripping him tight, and his face falls into ace’s neck, just like it always used to, and he doesn’t even care that ace’s sticky hands are all over his hospital gown, or on his face, pulling him back to pull him in again, parting his lips with a gentle force that sabo allows, sighing into it.

ace moves back and sabo is dizzy and his eyes are heavy. “ace portgas, i love you.”

“sabo portgas, i love you more.”

“yeah, you probably do. i don’t doubt that.” he reaches up to trace ace’s jawline. “still.”

ace rolls his eyes. “you should try and sleep. i’ll still be here when you wake up.”

sabo hums. he pulls away to settle down, but he doesn’t release ace, instead shuffling to one side of the bed. ace gets the memo without any words and huffs out a contained laugh, kicking his shoes off proper and climbing under the blankets.

“staff won’t like this,” he muses, letting sabo curl up to him, arm gentle over his back. 

“don’t care,” sabo mumbles, burying his nose in ace’s chest, until he can feel his heartbeat. 

-

ace is fire and pain and yet it hurts the most not knowing, so the second he can he sits up out of bed and throws his feet over the edge. he drops heavy on his knees, hands held hard to the iv pole, barely on his feet. one hand comes off to touch at his chest, and curl into the fabric of his gown. his eyes are shut, his teeth gritted. it takes him a long time to relax.

he shoves the curtain aside and is immediately met with a bunch of stares that he ignores, eyes searching. they land on an open curtain not far from his own, sabo in the middle of two nurses in drab scrubs, looking radiant between the dull colors and heavy monitors. they’re hooking him up, so he must have just arrived. ace wastes no time in moving forward, pushing even when his breathing deepens from effort and his chest begins to ache.

“wait, sir-!” someone begins, but ace moves out of the loose hold until he’s at the foot of sabo’s bed. his eyes widen as he takes sabo in, at his wrapped head and arms and legs and what he can see peeking out from under the hem of his shirt. he places one hand at the edge of the bed to steady himself, curling his fingers against the folded sheet that lay there.

the nurses look between each other and one of them stops messing with the machines. “sir, you can’t be here.” 

ace looks up, panicked as she comes closer. “wait, but sabo-!” he bites his lip. “i just wanted to see sabo. he’s okay, right?”

“you should go lie back down,” she says, but that doesn’t answer ace’s question. he feels discomfort in his chest, like he has to cough or something, and he squeezes the sheet tighter as he forces the urge down.

“please. i can sit down here if you want, but i just want to see him for a bit. just a minute.”

the other nurse finishes that side and looks past ace, to the nurse that had followed him. he glances back to ace. “you know his name?”

“yeah.” ace bobs his head, realizes his sudden bargaining chip, and immediately puts it to full use. “it’s sabo. i can tell you whatever you need, just let me sit here to do it.”

the one nearest to him sighs and goes back to fiddling with the machines. “go grab a chair,” she mutters, and her coworker runs off to do just that.

ace feels relief that is tough to hide as he sits, grateful to be off his feet. “sabo portgas,” he says, moving closer to be near sabo’s head while being out of the way. he’s sickly pale. ace is glad he’s alive and seems to be stable, but he’s tough to look at. he bites at his lip again. “did he have surgery? is that where he was?”

“portgas.” the nurse frowns, then frowns further as ace comes to attention. “that was the surname you gave us, wasn’t it?”

ace nods.

“you’re family, then?”

ace nods again.

her frown deepens as she looks between the two. “i can’t see much of a resemblance.”

“oh, we’re not blood-related,” ace admits.

“ah. well, i guess you are within your bounds. he did just undergo surgery. it’s his second.”

ace turns back to sabo, but he looks at all the machines instead. he doesn’t ask what the surgeries were for, because he has a pretty good idea of what both of them were for, and the fact that two were needed was already concerning enough to make his stomach roll. “when will he wake up?”

“we don’t know. we put him in a coma to speed recovery, but when he regains consciousness is partly his choice.”

“i hope he chooses soon,” ace mutters.

the nurse chuckles. “not that sort of active choice. it’s more how fast his body heals. regardless, he’ll wake up on his own eventually.” her hand moves across the clipboard she’s holding to scribble in numbers, and ace’s eyes stick on the far machine, a pulse monitor with a slow beep.

“that doesn’t seem right,” he says, nodding to the monitor when she looks up. she glances at it and hums.

“it is a little slow, but it’s steady, which is the important thing.” she scribbles in the count, then pauses, pen hovered over the page. “is that concerningly slow? do you know his normal count?”

ace blinks. “uh, no.” was that bad? was that a usual thing to know? ace thinks on all the times he’s heard sabo’s heartbeat, and they’ve only ever been when it’s racing.

“you get the name?” another nurse asks, stopping while wandering by. 

“sabo,” she says over her shoulders, tapping the page.

“sabo portgas,” ace stresses.

“right. portgas,” she amends.

the other nurse narrows his eyes in thought. “and you’re ace, right?”

ace nods as the nurse across from him taps the page with her pen, drawing the attention of her colleague. he scans that section and hums, then looks back up to ace.

“you were brought in together,” he murmurs in thought. he holds up a vial. “is he allergic to anything? we wanted to put this in the iv.”

“no allergies,” ace says, eyes lidding. that he knew of. but if sabo had a spontaneous reaction to something medicine-related, would it be on him?

his face must give something away, because the nurse gives him an odd look before moving to sabo’s other side, where the iv sat.

“he’ll say it, too,” ace says suddenly, drawing both of their gazes. “when he wakes up. he’ll say he’s sabo portgas, and that he’s mi-” he cuts off with a violent cough, hand going up to his face, and the nurse quickly stands to assist him.

“c’mon, that’s enough. you should go lie down now.” ace opens his mouth in protest as she helps him to his feet. “you can always come back, ace. he won’t be in icu forever. focus on self-recovery for now. at least until he wakes up.”

ace sighs and gives up with a small nod, dropping his head down. he looks to the bland, bright floor as he lets her lead him back to his own area, drawing the curtains after helping him settle into bed.

“he won’t deny it,” he says, as she’s moving to leave. “he’ll tell you the same thing. promise.”

when she looks back, her smile is gentle. “i’ll hold you to it.”

“i’ll do better,” he mumbles to the air, later on. “i’ll do better, so please, wake up soon.” he frowns, sniffing, as his emotions overwhelm him. “please wake up and come back to me. as long as you can do that, everything else will be okay.”

part 1 | notes

[indiavolowetrust]

Ok ok let's take a break from from (rightfully) bitching about how the game could have been ~spicyer~ and imagine this: police officer!satan x thief! Reader who's in a tight leather Catwoman/black cat suit 👀👀👀👀

Thanks for sending in an ask / request! And yeah, let’s take a break hehe. This is a little out of my comfort zone, but I took it as the following: MC is a thief who has been caught by their childhood friend, who has instead turned to a life of law and justice. Tones of noir. Think of MC as a jewel thief, Satan as a gumshoe detective, and the entire exchange in the black and white tones of older movies.

I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

“They say you’re a demon, you know. All that anger in one neat little package.” The interior of the constable’s automobile is dark, even with the aid of the vehicle’s external lights, but you know better than anyone that Satan can see the smile beneath your mask. The tightening of his knuckles on the steering wheel is all you need as confirmation. “Just like your name, right? Always wonder why Mama called you that.”

His eyes flicker briefly to yours in the mirror, his gaze just as piercing as ever. “You’re not charming your way out of this one.”

“We’ll see.”

It will be approximately twenty minutes to the station, of course. Five minutes from the museum, ten minutes to pass the main street, and another five minutes to pull into the parking spot. Maybe another minute or so for him to wrangle you out of the car and into the station, depending on how much resistance you give him. Given that you’ve opted to go on a heist without a partner -- a foolish decision on your part, you realize now -- you’ll have to find a way to distract him for an extra five minutes. Should be enough for that light-fingered crow to figure out where you are, anyway.

And so you wait.

“That new uniform looks absolutely wonderful on you,” you croon, adding only the slightest lilt to the end of the phrase. You stretch out in the backseat of the automobile, and your feet meet the window. The cuffs don’t get in the way of that, at least. “Did you get a promotion?”

“No.”

“Just a change of wardrobe, then?”

“You know damn well I haven’t been promoted in a decade,” Satan nearly snarls, his verdant gaze flashing with irritation. “If you could just shut up, this would go a lot a smoother. A lot better for you, at least.”

You hum. “But where’s the fun in that?  I thought you liked playing games. All that back there was pretty much just hide-and-seek.”

“We have to find criminals like you so we can bring about the peace.” His knuckles tighten once more on the steering wheel, and automobile swerves just slightly in turn. Your goading is working, evidently. “Hardly a game of hide-and-seek, if you ask me.”

“Huh. I thought you liked that game the best,” you remark. You play idly with the cuffs of your costume -- no, suit, considering its current usage -- and cast a sidelong glance towards the blond-haired detective. You catch his eye. Good.

“I didn’t.”

“Then what was all that crying when you were a kid?” you ask, teasing him further. “You used to be so much cuter back then with that little cat toy of yours. I almost miss you hanging onto my sleeve.”

His cheeks color slightly under the light of a passing street lamp. “I didn’t cry that much.”

“So all that crying was just a reason to hang onto me, then.”

“Sure.”

You smirk at him, your expression just visible under the partial disguise. “I thought cops weren’t supposed to lie,” you tease. You glance just outside the window, taking in the image of the main street. Ten minutes left. “Thought all of you were supposed to be high and mighty. By the books, you know.”

Satan says nothing at that -- either a sign of his growing irritation or his sudden surge to remain silent and not stoop to your low blows. Given his inherently wrathful nature -- he was always a snotty little brat -- you can hardly imagine it to be the latter. You feel the automobile make one of its final turns down the main street, its engine beginning to slow. If you can’t manage to incite his wrath, to throw him off his game, you’ll be stuck with a level-headed Satan. Namely, the more dangerous, efficient version of your childhood friend. The light of a street lamp flickers across the windows of the vehicle, and you begin to feel a surge of panic. The lock you’ve been picking with a hairpin won’t give itself away quickly enough.

Five minutes. You’ll need to think of something.

You pull slightly at the cat-shaped mask of your ensemble, tracing a tongue against the curve of your lower lip. You had made sure to paint it red just for this night. Satan stiffens slightly in the mirror, his gaze once more flickering away from you, and you see his jaw grit just slightly. Then there is the set posture of his shoulders, the white knuckles, the flush that has come to make itself known over his visage -- and a sense of victory begins to well up within you.

Satan is weak to you. Always has been, even when you two were kids.

The vehicle is parked a short distance to the station. He only traces the rather revealing contours of your cat-like suit for only a moment, his professionalism falling to pieces -- and then he forces his gaze to lock with yours, intent on not letting you have your way. Of course, that won’t be the case.

Never will be.

You walk in a deliberately slow manner, forcing Satan to slow his pace with yours. Blink slowly beneath your mask, your features only just barely shrouded by the disguise.

“You could’ve gone into the force like me,” he says, breaking the silence. His gaze tears away from you for just a moment, his thoughts preoccupied with what appears to be regret. You're close. “You could’ve broken the pattern instead of -- instead of doing this,” he continues. “I still don’t understand why --”

His visage has turned itself fully away from you. Now’s your chance.

You trip the detective in one swift movement, forcing him to stagger away from you, and use the free moment away from his hands to finally release yourself from the confines of the cuffs. They clatter uselessly to the ground. The detective lets out a soft groan as his back slams into the brick wall of a nearby building, his features contorting in pain. His body momentarily stunned in the aftermath. The light of a passing car begins to make its way towards the both of you -- presumably also towards the station -- and you immediately drag Satan into a nearby alley.

Still, it’s not enough. A quick glance tells you that Mammon -- that damned greedy crow -- has yet to find your location, much less arrive. You force a knee between the detective’s legs and a hand over his mouth, muffling his yells of protest.

‘Hush!“ you hiss at the equally irritated detective, furrowing your brows. “I’m going to get caught!”

Satan only struggles from beneath your vice-like grip, grousing a number of complaints from beneath your fingers. Struggling with enough force to nearly knock you away from him, the jerky movements necessitating that you adjust this way and that. The cat-like bodysuit that you’ve chosen to wear for the heist -- yet another foolish touch of theatrics on your part -- allows you a limited amount of movement, further hindering your attempts to keep the detective under your control. Unlike the adorable, sniffling child he used to be, the full grown man that he is now is much more difficult to control.

And so you decide to let go.

Satan’s face is completely flushed, his pale skin now beet-red beside his blond hair. “You -- you’ve already been caught, so just --”

God, he’s loud.

You seal your mouth over his in the span of a moment, effectively silencing whatever noise he would have made to draw attention to your location. Taking away his breath. His eyes are still open wide by the time you close yours, the surprise evident on his features. It means little to you. You force your tongue past the barrier of his lips, exploring the inside of his mouth as you do so, and tangle your fingers in the blond locks. A measure of necessity, given his previous attempts to struggle away from your grip.

You do not know how long the kiss lasts, nor do you care. You only need to stall for time. Satan all but melts under your false affection, sighing into your mouth. You angle your mouth beneath his to deepen the kiss, further occupying his attention.

And then there is the revving of an engine some distance away from your position in the alleyway. Mammon.

Time to go, you think.

You push yourself away from Satan just in time to see the lights of Mammon’s car begin to make itself up the alleyway. Shove the hapless detective’s body even further into the brick. Again there is that gasp of pain, prompting his realization -- but by the time he gathers his wits, it is far too late. You only grin at him from the inside of Mammon’s vehicle before slamming the door shut, catching the pathetic surprise in his eyes. It is nothing short of satisfying: Satan is weak, as always. For as much literature he consumes, he’s just as easy to deceive as he was as a child.

There is only the vaguest hint of unfamiliarity in his eyes as you and Mammon drive away from the police station. It flashes across the verdant puppies for only a half-second, dissipating quickly into the hue -- but it is enough to draw your attention. Not quite vexation, not quite rage. Not quite irritation, not quite annoyance. Not quite any of those things that made Satan the wrathful little beast he is as a detective.

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he looked disappointed.