#it's just that she's usually dragged kicking and screaming (metaphorically) into those moments

[seijorhi]

Idk why but lately I’ve been obsessed with the idea of being confronted with the shock of care and domesticity from an otherwise mean/domineering yandere…specifically the Miya twins.

I adore your characterization of them in fics like “Means to an End” and “Breaking Point” and that contrast between being so utterly unkind to Reader whilst also clearly being so obsessed with her is very intriguing. It makes me wonder just how bittersweet it would be for Reader if they eventually did try to make more of an effort to be “loving,” like getting her a present that shows to some extent they actually understand/know her well. On one hand, it’s almost a relief they’re finally giving you some warmth after the emotional isolation, on the other, it’s horrifying to think they could be anything other than the terribleness they’ve shown you.

i think while breaking point twins are probably more likely to lean that way, any 'tenderness' that isn't the result of either one of them being drunk is probably going to be met with suspicion above anything else. the reader simply refuses to believe it's coming from a genuine place, or that there's anything good that'll come of it.

at best they're trying to manipulate her into softening towards them, at worst they want something, and they're trying to butter her up and/or poke and prod at her vulnerabilities to get what they want. either way, she's not buying it

[songsoomin]

Fallen

Word count: 11.5K (sorry got a bit longer than planned)

Angel!Mingi x Female Demon!Reader, feat Demon!Seongjoong, Demon!San, Angel!Yunho, Angel!Yeosang. Mingi goes hard dom.

Warnings: Corruption kink, degradation, domination, cum play, unprotected vaginal penetration, oral sex (m receiving), masturbation (m) brief mention of bdsm and choking, brief mention of threesome, brief mention of crime (theft, fighting)

Posted: 15th June 2020

"I'm so fucking bored!" You shouted into the pillow, kicking your legs against the bed like a child.

"Why don't you go to the human world and make some excitement, then?" Hongjoong suggested.

"Oh, they're all boring, too." You complained, not bothering to lift your head from the pillow, "They're just so easy to corrupt. There's no challenge most of the time."

"Well, they will be easy if you keep hanging around in the shady areas where most of them are one bad decision away from being criminals anyway." Seonghwa countered, "You need to go to the better areas where people aren't desperate enough to give in to your...temptations."

As Seonghwa said that he ran his fingers lightly up your bare inner thigh towards your sensitive core, making you shiver. You'd already spent the best part of the day in bed with him and Hongjoong and were far too over-sensitive to go for another round. It passed the time, though.

That's not to say you only did it to pass the time; they were both amazing in bed - as one would expect from demons, it came with the territory. You all had to be tempting and be able to back up that temptation with amazing skill - what better to corrupt innocent little humans. Not that sex was necessary to corrupt them but it certainly made it more entertaining when you found a particularly attractive one. The physical contact from sex with humans also helped deteriorate their mental state quicker, your aura surrounding them like a beautiful yet suffocating fog, leaving them more vulnerable to suggestion. It wasn't just a job, you all liked to have fun with it, too.

Pushing Seonghwa's hand away you dragged yourself up off the bed and got dressed. Black was generally the dress code down here but sometimes you added a splash of red as it made you look all the more sinful. Add to that the dark make up and you looked like a bad idea brought to life. You had wings, of course, but they weren't always visible. Down in the lower realm they were always there, a beautiful shiny black cascade of feathers but when you entered the human world they weren't visible to anyone else but your kind.

The angels could see them, too. The deep black being a stark warning to stay away from you because it was much more fun to mess with them than it was the humans. Angels were the only ones who presented a real challenge because after all these years you'd been doing it, humans were just too easy.

Angels had orders, people they had to keep watch over, to save - mostly from your kind. Demons, however, only had one order...cause as much havoc and corruption as you can - otherwise do whatever the Hell you want.

"I guess I'll go and misbehave, then." You said as you threw a glance back at your two best fuck buddies, "You coming?"

"Nah," Hongjoong said giving Seonghwa a cheeky look "we're not done yet."

"Okay, have fun boys!" You walked away laughing to yourself; those two together really were a beautiful sight to watch but you wanted something new to excite you today.

                                                   ********

"Just take it." You whispered discreetly to the man in front of you. He couldn't see you or consciously hear your voice but his sub-conscious was getting the message. You were in a high end department store, following a man trying to find a gift for his girlfriend. He was looking at a bag he knew she wanted but he couldn't afford to get.

"If you're fast no one will even know." It wasn't actually necessary for the humans to be able to see you for you to corrupt them. You could talk to their sub-conscious like the metaphorical little devil on their shoulder. You only let them see you if you wanted them to.

Seonghwa was right, in these posher areas where people weren't in such desperate situations, they weren't quite as ready to break the law and corrupting them took a little more persuasion. It was still too easy, though.

"The guard isn't looking, hide it in your coat and walk out. Imagine how happy your girlfriend will be on her birthday." That was all it took for the man to do exactly as you said. Humans were so stupid - he hadn't even considered the security tag. You sat smugly on one of the plush chairs in the store, watching for the moment he would set off the alarms and the security guards would step in. It was quite satisfying because, as a supernatural creature, you had the gift of foreseeing what would happen if they listened to you. In this case you knew the man was going to be arrested and completely ruin his girlfriend's birthday. She would leave him and then, in his despair, he would be even easier to lead down the wrong path.

Quite satisfying but you'd still not had to try very hard. As the commotion unfolded in front of you, you considered if these areas were better than the run-down parts of town. Sure you'd had to work a little harder but the lengths they'd go to weren't as extreme. In the dodgy areas you could find any low-life and because they were already on the wrong side of the law you could make them do some really bad shit. Maybe that's why Hwa told you to come here - it was only theft today but if you kept working on this guy, you could really mess him up. Maybe that would be more fun than the instant gratification you found with the low-lives.

A few days later you were sitting in a bar next to the guy from the department store - although he didn't know that. He was drowning his sorrows, his girlfriend had left him as she didn't want a thief for a boyfriend and the embarrassment of it was too much for her. The guy was bitterly complaining to the bartender, who just listened patiently, although you knew what he was thinking and it wasn't pity for the guy.

As he got increasingly drunk, you sucked on a cherry-flavoured lollipop and quietly listened for details of his life that you could use to fuck it up even more. Alcohol had no effect on demons so there was no point in you drinking. His name was Kwangsoo or something - not that you cared. You were more interested in the difficulties in his life that you could use against him and his weaknesses that you could exploit. You weren't getting much tonight as he just kept on whining about his stupid girlfriend so it seemed like you'd have more work ahead of you.

Eventually, Kwangsoo was asked to leave the bar when the bartender had decided he'd had enough to drink.

"Refuse." You whispered in his ear and the guy looked up at the bartender and started shouting about how he would decide when he'd had enough. It didn't get him far as the bartender simply beckoned security over to throw him out.

"Don't let them do this to you. Who are they to tell you where you can be?" Drunk humans were even easier to control and he promptly started trying to fight his way out of the security guards' hold. He got one arm free and threw a punch at one of the security guards while you watched on in amusement. The bartender called the police as security managed to get the drunk guy on the floor, while you kept whispering to him to fight on. As the police dragged a screaming Kwangsoo away you laughed to yourself, it was yet another fall on the way to rock bottom for him.

You felt the unpleasant shiver down your spine before you noticed the new addition to the police cell you and Kwangsoo were currently occupying. Looking up you saw an angel appear and look at you with caution before looking over to Kwangsoo. You felt the shiver anytime an angel came within your vicinity and you imagined they probably felt something similar as they always looked immediately at you before the human they were assigned to.

"What the Hell?" Kwangsoo shouted, started.

"I'd prefer if you didn't say that word." The angel said, smiling. His voice was deep and there was something about it you liked. It wasn't soft like the others' voices that you'd heard, theirs usually rang out beautifully, like a song.

"What? Hell?"

"Yeah, that one. It's not a nice place, you wouldn't want to go there. Which is why I'm here. You've been making some bad choices lately - I think I know why..." He briefly looked over to you again as he spoke and you simply smirked back at him. "...but I'm here to set you back on the right path."

"Who - or what - are you? And how did you get in here?" Kwangsoo wondered aloud.

"My name is Mingi. I'm an angel."

"Bullshit."

Mingi sighed, disbelief was quite normal to him. "Did you or did you not just see me appear out of thin air, big white wings and shining aura?"

Kwangsoo looked over him skeptically but couldn't deny what he saw - even if he was still somewhat drunk. "I guess..."

"Then we're good. I'm an angel and I'm here to help get you back on the straight and narrow."

As the angel talked with Kwangsoo, you sat watching and listening. The angel wasn't quite like the ones you'd seen before. The make ones you'd seen tended to be a little more on the feminine-looking side - not that they looked like girls but they usually had softer, more slender features and bodies. This one was big. Tall, broad shoulders, nice thick thighs and more masculine features but he was still stunningly beautiful like all the rest. Demons, of course, were all stunningly beautiful, too, given that they were, in essence, just fallen angels but their beauty didn't seem so pure. There was almost a dirtiness to it - like it was tainted. You guessed that wasn't really a bad description of it - you were tainted, after all.

Actually you were surprised that they hadn't sent a female angel to this man like they normally did. A practice they employed as human males were much more likely to pay attention to a beautiful woman - males were such simple creatures. Mind you, the human women were no better with the beautiful men assigned to them.

While your mind was wandering, Mingi and Kwangsoo had finished talking and you just caught Angel Boy saying goodbye and promising to return soon. He didn't leave, though, he just vanished from Kwangsoo's sight and came towards you. He approached with caution, not getting too close because all angels were warned to stay away from demons. Demons were risky to be around because angels were fair and full of goodness but demons didn't play fair. They liked to mess with the angels and didn't feel the least bit bad about doing so. Despite how good angels were they weren't entirely immune to tempation so it wasn't unknown for angels to be turned. It was the ultimate challenge for a demon. Maybe this was the new excitement you'd been craving so badly.

"I'd like you to stay away from Kwangsoo now." Angel Boy spoke, his voice giving away just how apprehensive he was talking to you. "You've had some fun with him but, please, leave him alone and let me help him."

You giggled in surprised - you'd never had one of them ask you such a thing. Normally they ignored you as they were instructed. Did this one really think there was any good in you that you'd be nice and listen to him? You cocked your head, looking directly at him but didn't say anything yet. You'd rather let the silence hang for a moment to make it more uncomfortable for him - and it looked to be working. He couldn't manage to hold eye contact with you and cleared his throat nervously, probably wondering if engaging you directly was really the best idea.

As you rose from the bench slowly Mingi looked you up and down - anything to avoid eye contact but maybe that wasn't a great idea either. You watched as his eyes widened slightly as he took in your leather pants and chunky-heeled biker boots, then finally reaching your tight black top which showed a nice amount of cleavage. Feeling too uncomfortable with that he quickly looked away but, unfortunately for him, his eyes settled on your mouth just as you were slowly sliding the cherry lollipop out from between your lips. You smirked at him again as you saw his tongue poke out to lick at his own plump lips. This was going to be fun.

"I guess I could leave Kwangsoo alone...he wasn't much fun anyway." You said   thoughtfully.

"T-thank you?" Cute. He said it like a question, as if he wasn't quite sure what was going on.

"I think I'm going to find you much more entertaining anyway." Looking straight into his deep brown eyes, you lifted you hand to smear the sticky lollipop across Mingi's bottom lip, all while he stood frozen to the spot and unable to move.

As you started to phase out of there you saw those beautiful eyes close and his shoulders slump as he let out the breath he'd been holding all that time.

                                                    ********

"Yunho!" Mingi shouted urgently, running into his best friend's room, "Yunho, I need help!"

"What's wrong?" Yunho asked, startled at the commotion.

"A demon. There's a demon around my charge." Mingi said, as if that expalined it all.

Yunho's brows furrowed in confusion, "But...there always are. What's the problem?"

"I spoke to her." Mingi groaned as Yunho's eyes widened.

"Why on Earth would you do that? You know better than to engage with them!"

"I know! I don't know what came over me. She didn't look as evil as the others so I tried asking her to leave Kwangsoo alone."

"And?" The tall blonde angel asked, curious.

"She said she'd leave him alone....because she'd have much more fun with me." Mingi hung his head, with not a single clue as to how to handle this.

"Oh no. You're such an idiot. You know you can never tell how bad they are just by their appearance. They are masters of deception. And now you've taken her interest."

Mingi groaned in frustration again, "I know it was stupid but what do I do now?"

The blonde thought for a moment but came up with nothing, "I've never been stupid enough to talk to one so I don't know. We should find Yeosang. Maybe he'll know."

                                                   ********

Mingi took a deep breath as he prepared to appear in Kwangsoo's apartment, hoping you wouldn't be there. Yeosang had given some advice but not before telling Mingi just how stupid he was to have even looked your way, let alone spoken to you.

He had two choices on how to proceed. One, he could stop helping Kwangsoo  and have him assigned to another angel. That didn't sit well with Mingi; he had made a promise to help and he didn't want to neglect it. Two, he could carry on with his mission and try his best to ignore you completely. Don't look at you, don't acknowledge you and definitely don't talk to you. Mingi just hoped it would be that easy. Problem was, that as soon as he appeared anywhere near your kind, he got the same uneasy feeling that you did when being near one of his kind and it was pure instinct to look for the source of it. Which he did and, upon locking eyes with you, saw you smirk at him causing him to get flustered immediately. This wasn't going to be as easy as he'd hoped.

As soon as you felt that uneasy feeling telling you an angel was near you perked up, hoping it would be Mingi again - a hope that was rewarded as the beautiful, sandy-haired man appeared in front of you. He really was stunning, you couldn't deny it. His dark eyes met yours briefly with a look of...fear, perhaps? You knew he would at least be nervous to be around you as there wasn't much he could do if you decided to play with him. Angels and demons didn't really have powers and, therefore, couldn't affect each other. It was bad for him because he couldn't just get rid of you to make his job easier and basically meant that if he didn't like what you were doing his only choice was to put up with it or leave but also good for him in that he didn't have to worry about you being able to hurt him in any way. It was a leveller between your two kinds to stop all out war from ensuing and the human realm being destroyed in the crossfire.

When it came to doing your jobs, success depended on who was stronger and the human in question's will. Would they let tempation overtake them or was there enough good in them to take the path of the angels? It seemed that the more good the angel had done the stronger their influence became and, of course, the more chaos the demon had caused the stronger theirs became. The vibes you were getting from this particular angel made you think you were about evenly matched.

As Mingi counselled Kwangsoo you simply sat and watched - after all you did imply you'd leave the human alone. You couldn't fully stick to that, though, because if you stopped messing with the human then the angel would win and have no reason to keep coming back and the last thing you wanted to do was lose your new toy. No...you'd have to mess with him just enough to not make it look like Kwangsoo's soul was un-winable, otherwise Mingi might give up and you might never see him again. For now your mere presence was enough because the longer a human was subjected to it, the more your aura infected their mind and body. Of course, if Mingi spent as much time with the human as you did his aura might just be more powerful and be able to offset the damage to his soul that you were doing but you were pretty sure that Mingi wouldn't be able to stay with him for too long if you were around - the poor thing was too frightened of you.

As you watched you decided it was time to make things a little more interesting. You silently stood and made your way over to the angel, leaning in close to his ear and breathing gently,

"It really is so intriguing to watch you work."

Mingi jumped, having not felt your approach as he was so wrapped up in his counselling.

"Are you okay?" Kwangsoo asked, looking around for what had caused Mingi to jolt like that.

"I'm fine." He said, trying his best to appear calm, "I'm just sensitive to the darker energy in the room."

You giggled and took a seat beside Kwangsoo on the couch, looking across him directly at Mingi, who was on the armchair. You sat with your elbow on the arm of the couch, resting your chin in your palm and your little finger caught between your teeth as you looked at Mingi with hooded lids. You never stopped looking at him but every now and then, ran your little finger over your bottom lip and licked at it gently with your sinful tongue. You could see how Mingi's eyes kept darting to your lips, despite his better judgement, and you took delight in the way you were obviously affecting him.

Mingi shifted uncomfortably under your gaze and, as it all became too much for him, he abruptly ended his conversation with Kwangsoo.

"I'm sorry need to go for now...but I'll be back again soon, I promise."

"Thank you, Mingi. I really appreciate what you're doing for me."

Mingi gave him a small smile, probably feeling guilty because he was cutting short their time together, making you smile in satisfaction - this was your time now. As he started to phase out of human sight you moved at lightning speed to grab him and stop him from getting away entirely. He fought against you at first, trying to break free because you both knew full well he couldn't return to the upper realm with you hanging off him. He gave up after a few moments and let you hold him there in the human's apartment, caged against the wall by your midnight black wings.

You leaned in close to his neck, taking in the beautiful scent of him, almost touching him but just shy of doing so.

"Mmmm, you smell so delicious...it makes me want to taste you so badly."

You ghosted your lips over his soft skin, making him shiver in response. He seemed to have lost the ability to speak temporarily and made no move to get away, frozen like a deer in headlights.

You took advantage of his frozen state and moved your hand to his chest, stroking down slowly until you reached the waistband of his trousers.

"I know there's a part of you that would like to taste me, too - just to see if it's as good as you've heard." You tip-toed up so your mouth was against Mingi's ear as you whispered, "It is."

He was almost shaking now so you decided he'd had enough for today and left him with one last reminder of you to play on his mind. Staying up on your tip-toes you brushed your lips against his, adding a little lick across his bottom lip for good measure.

"I'll see you soon, Angel Boy." You laughed and phased out back to the lower realm, extremely satisfied with yourself. You'd affected him so much that he couldn't complete his job, running out on the human and you knew that would be what hurt him the most. You didn't just want to corrupt him...you wanted to break him first.

                                                   ********

"We haven't seen you much lately. I take it you found something to occupy you?" Seonghwa wondered, brushing his black hair out of his eyes.

"Hmm, yes. A delightfully innocent angel that came to help the human I was trying to corrupt. The boy even had the balls to ask me to leave the human alone, if can you believe it?"

"Wow." Hongjoong replied, "He must either be very new or very stupid."

"Stupid enough to believe she has a good side he could appeal to." Seonghwa snorted.

"He's not quite like the others I've encountered." You mused as you ran your hands through Hongjoong's platinum hair, the man kissing down your neck as you fucked yourself on his hard cock. "He's...stunning, to be honest. Much more manly than the others but still just as innocent. I can't wait to ruin him and be bouncing on his cock instead."

Hongjoong slapped your behind hard, making you cry out in pain, "Hey! If you keep thinking about other men while I'm fucking your tight little cunt, I'll have to punish you properly."

"Ooh, is that a promise?" You teased, "His build is quite a bit bigger than yours...I'll bet his cock is much more impressive, too."

Hongjoong grabbed you by your neck, squeezing as he flipped you onto your back, "You're going to regret that, Slut. Seonghwa...get me the chains."

"Whips, too?" The taller demon asked as he climbed off the bed, a devious look on his face.

"Oh, I think so." He replied as he rammed back into you hard.

                                                    ********

As Mingi laid alone in his room back in the upper realm he kept replaying the scene over and over again in his mind. It hadn't quite been a kiss but he could still feel the way your soft lips brushed against his and how your hot tongue ever-so-lightly traced over his plump bottom lip. As he remembered it a strange feeling formed in the pit of his stomach and he felt a tingling sensation down below. He slowly moved his hand down to that area and gently felt it over his pants, pulling his hand back in surprise when the feeling intensified. He timidly felt the area again, noting that it seemed a little...firmer than usual. Bigger, too. He knew humans did something with this area but he didn't quite know what. Was this what humans felt when they did whatever they did? And why would he be feeling like that?

He wasn't one hundred percent sure he knew what these feelings were but he did know they felt wrong to him. Forbidden. He shouldn't be feeling this way. Yet, despite this knowledge, why couldn't he stop thinking about it? He tried to fight the feelings - without much luck.

Mingi hadn't told Yunho what had happened last time he saw you. He couldn't bring himself to admit the situation he had allowed himself to get into. What would he say to Yunho when he asked him why he didn't push you away? Angels may not have powers against demons but he could've fought harder...used physical force to get away from you so he could escape back home. It was allowed if to protect himself. The reason he didn't know what to tell his best friend, was that he didn't know himself, why he hadn't done so.

However, despite his attempts to keep this latest encounter secret, Yunho could tell something was wrong. If not simply because of Mingi's strange behaviour, he could definitely tell when he saw a single white feather fall from one of Mingi's luminescent wings as he walked away, after insisting everything was fine. Angels don't shed their feathers...

                                                   ********

Soon enough you were aching to get back to Kwangsoo, after all, you had to keep your new plaything coming back. You hopped out of Hongjoong's bed- somewhat sore after the wonderful punishment he visited upon you - and dressed to look as tempting as possible. All black, as usual, but deciding that a very short dress that showed your figure at it's best ought to do it. You opted to go barefoot because it usually gave a girl a hint of youth and innocence so you knew it would be a jarring contrast to your sinful aura in Mingi's mind.

"Hey, are you going back to the human world again?"

"Yep." You replied to Seonghwa lightly. "Gotta go work on Angel Boy some more."

"Maybe we can come and help. Make ruining him more fun."

"No!" The denial was blurted out before you even registered thinking it and Seonghwa raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. while Hongjoongs head snapped up in curiosity.

"I...I just think that I can work him better alone. I don't want to scare him away by bringing you two along - you're hardly gentle, are you?."

The two demon boys looked doubtful but let it go.

"You'd better share once you've broken him." Seonghwa said with a hint of disappointment in his tone.

"Uh...yeah, sure." They looked a little more satisfied but must've noticed the hesitancy in your answer. They probably just thought that you wanted to keep all the fun to yourself and that's exactly what you were telling yourself, too. There was no other possible reason for you not wanting them anywhere near him.

                                                      ********

You lounged around Kwangsoo's apartment, bored and waiting for your angel to show up again. You knew he'd have to come to the apartment as he couldn't risk popping up out of nowhere at the human's workplace. He may be able to hide his wings but he couldn't get rid of the luminescent aura that surrounded him.

The time was ticking away and it worried you that you may have scared him off already. Disappointment flooded you at the thought but you told yourself it was just because you might lose your new toy. Just as you were starting to lose hope you felt the telltale shiver up your spine that signalled his presence and shot up from the couch. He appeared right in front of you, clearly startled by your immediate proximity. You smiled sweetly at him - too sweetly to match the aura you gave off.

"You kept me waiting so long today. It's mean of you." You pouted up at him while he looked around uncomfortably, not able to meet your eyes.

As Kwangsoo clearly wasn't in the room, Mingi altered his presence so that only you could see and hear him - the last thing he wanted was for the human to hear him talking to you and find out there was a demon hanging around him. He had to keep your interaction with his charge as limited as possible.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked, a pained expression on his face, "Please just stop being interested in me."

"Hmmm," You looked thoughtful for a moment but soon turned your sweet smile back on him and his face fell, "I don't think I can do that. You're not like the others, you're so much more...tempting."

"Please..." He whispered "I can't take this."

"You've been thinking about me, haven't you?" For the second time Mingi couldn't look you in the eyes.

"Did you feel excited when you thought about my lips touching yours?"

Mingi's eyes widened and you knew you'd got it right.

"Oh, you did! Do you want me to do it again?" You took a step towards him and he backed away. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about your pretty lips. Please let me do it again."

With each step you took forward he took one back until his back was against the wall. You lightly placed your hands on his chest and tip-toed up until your lips were millimetres from his. You bit your bottom lip as you looked up at him and delighted in the way he stared at your mouth, subconsciously licking his own lips in response.

Although you were taking all the control, you paused for a few seconds to give him time to escape. There was no fun in forcing him - coercion, yes - but not by force. You wanted him to submit to you - to chose to give himself to you. He didn't move so you closed the gap between you, softly moving your lips against his more plump ones. You sucked on his bottom lip and nibbled lightly, earning a quiet gasp from him. As his lips parted with the gasp you took the opportunity to slide your tongue into his mouth, swirling it around his. You took full control of the kiss, knowing he had never done this before.

Mingi was letting this happen but still standing awkwardly against the wall so, as you moved one hand up to run your fingers through his short, sandy coloured hair, you took one of his large hands and placed it on your hip. He got the hint and moved his other hand to your other hip and pulled you closer to him, finally giving in to the kiss.

He was hungry for it now, kissing you back eagerly and tightening his grip on you as you moaned against his mouth. Hearing you moan seemed to stir something buried deep within him and you felt his cock twitch against  you. Mingi tensed as you palmed his crotch with your free hand and pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily. His face showed the conflict he was struggling with - knowing he should get out of there as fast he could but wanting to give in so badly.

"You've never felt this before, have you? Give in to it." You purred as you began to kiss his neck, "I know you want this. You want me."

Mingi gasped as you bit his neck and tightened his hold on your hips so much you were sure his fingers would leave marks. You moved your lips back to his and sucked on his bottom lip, all the while undoing his trousers so you could get better access to his cock which was now very hard. Mingi groaned into your mouth as you slipped your hand into his pants and started stroking him.

"Deep down you're just a naughty boy, aren't you. My naughty angel."

Mingi whimpered at your slightly degrading words. He was still trying to deny to himself that deep down he really did want this but your words hit home. It still felt so wrong.

Grabbing the waistband you slipped Mingi's trousers and pants down so they pooled around his ankles, you stepped back to look at him and gasped. You'd just been teasing Hongjoong when you said the angel's cock would be much more impressive than his but fuck...you were amazed at the sight before you.

"You're so beautiful." You breathed, unable to take your eyes off his long, thick cock. Precum was already leaking from the swollen tip and your core ached just thinking about having him inside you.

"I want to see you touch yourself." Mingi's eyes snapped open at your request, looking a little panicked.

"I-I've never done...that before." He stammered innocently. It was adorable.

"I know, baby." You cooed, "Don't worry, I'll show you how."

You took Mingi's large hand and wrapped it around his dick and, laying your own smaller hand over his, you slowly moved his hand up and down the shaft. Mingi closed his eyes again and let out the breath he'd been holding, feeling pleasure wash over him. Once he had a good rhythm going you took your hand back and settled on your knees to watch your angel pleasure himself. The sight of Mingi touching himself, lost in pleasure was like nothing you'd ever seen. It was more beautiful than you could ever have imagined.

Slowly you crept closer to him and gently kissed his leaking red tip. Surprised at the unexpected sensation, he looked down at you and groaned as you licked his pre-cum off your lips. His groans were much deeper than his normally deep voice and you swear you could feel the vibrations in your aching core.

As he continued to stroke himself you gave little kitten licks to the tip of his cock, savouring the sweet taste only an angel could have. Mingi's movements started to get a little sloppy as he drew ever closer to his first ever orgasm.

"You're doing so well, my angel. Let it go."

"I c-can't." Mingi cried out in a broken voice, "I can't do this."

Abruptly he stopped and before you could fully register it, he had yanked his trousers back up and disappeared, leaving a flurry of white feathers slowly falling to the floor in front of you.

                                                    ********

"He just left?" San asked in astonishment. You were beck in the lower realm and telling him about your latest encounter, disappointed at how it turned out. San was easily the best out of you all at corrupting humans and angels alike. He, more than anyone, employed sex as his primary weapon of attack. He couldn't get enough - as you could well attest to given just how often he came to you or gatecrashed your fun with Hongjoong and Seonghwa, turning your threesome into an orgy.

"Wouldn't have happened if it were me." The demon said matter-of-factly. "I get the job done."

San was beautiful like all demons were, he had black hair with a streak of white down one side of his fringe and eyes that seemed to twinkle. He disarmed people with how adorable he could look, pulling them in with his cuteness until it was too late for them to escape and then he showed them his true nature.

While San had little sympathy for you, Seonghwa was considering your demeanour. You seemed...sad.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were more than just disappointed. Are you getting attached to this angel?"  

"What? No!" You rejected the inference vehemently. You didn't develop feelings like that. "I'm just a little annoyed that I'll have to work harder."

You sighed then, slumping down a little, "To be honest, I'm worried this will really have scared him off and he won't come back. I was so close to turning him."

"If you say so." Seonghwa replied, his big, dark eyes looking you over skeptically.

"Hey Y/N?" Hongjoong called, "Are you sure it's really you that is turning him and not the other way around?"

"What are you talking about, Joong?" You almost snapped, irritated at all of them questioning your skills.

"Well...if this is anything to go by, I'd say your aura is weakening."

You looked at him in horror as he held up three jet black feathers that seemed to have fallen from your wings. This wasn't right. A demon's wings were only as strong as their aura and if that started to deteriorate, so would their wings.

"Looks like Angel Boy is affecting you as much as you're affecting him." Hongjoong said, smirking.

                                                    ********

You'd given a lot of thought to what Hwa and Joong had said but didn't want to believe it. Yet there was no other reason for your wings to shed than your aura weakening. Demons didn't get sick so were you really developing feelings for the angel? You couldn't think of any other reason than that.

You thought about him carefully, trying to remember how you felt the first time you saw him. True, you were stunned by his beauty but you though that was just because he was different to all the others - that you were just excited to find something new. Now you thought about it, though, you felt so much more drawn to him than you ever had to any other angel. With them you just wanted to have the fun of ruining another angel - one of many - but with Mingi you wanted him. You didn't just want to ruin him for fun, you realised, you wanted to do it so he could be with you.

All the signs had been there had you just looked for them. You spent hours waiting around Kwangsoo's apartment just for Mingi to appear and then got excited when he arrived. You even thought about him when you were fucking Hwa and Joong. The problem now was that, after admitting to yourself how you felt, would he want you back? Mostly you corrupted an angel and then you were done with them - you saw them around and sometimes had some fun together but there were no relationships to speak of. In fact, the only other demons you'd ever known to have any kind of relationship were Hongjoong and Seonghwa. They were together, of course, but it was still very flexible.

There was no knowing what kind of demon Mingi would turn out to be even if you were able to turn him and that wasn't looking likely now. He'd come so close but then found the strength to escape you, he'd probably be too scared now and have another angel take over his human mission.

                                                   ********

"Mingi? Can I come in?" Yunho knocked on the door to Mingi's room. He hadn't seen him for days and was quite worried now. Receiving only silence from the other side of the door, he decided to go in anyway.

It was dark inside but he knew Mingi was there because he could feel his presence. Something was off about it, though, it didn't feel right. It was Mingi but it felt weak. More concerned now, Yunho went for the light.

"Don't turn it on!" Mingi said panicked, "I don't want you to see me."

"Min...what's wrong? Maybe I can help."

"You can't. It's gone too far."

"I'm turning the light on."

"No-!"

As Mingi's form was illuminated he grabbed his sheets and tried his best to cover himself but Yunho had already seen the state his best friend was in. He was shocked to say the least but more sad for his friend than anything. He'd lost his luminescence and his once beautiful wings were looking disheveled, some of the feathers scattered on the floor and his bed.

"Oh, Min...what've you done?" Yunho sat next to Mingi on his bed and pulled him into a hug.

"I couldn't resist her, Yunho. I should've taken Yeosang's advice and sent someone else in my place." Mingi said desperately.

"Wy didn't you then?" His blonde friend asked without judgement, just curiosity.

"I really don't know." the sandy blonde angel answered, "I thought it was just that I didn't want to abandon Kwangsoo or my pride in being able to finish the mission myself..." Mingi took a deep, shaky breath before continuing, "...but now I know it was more than that. I felt drawn to her somehow. I can feel it even now. I know I shouldn't but part of me wants to find her...to be with her."

Yunho listened quietly to his friend's confession, letting him get it all out.

"Was it because I was weak that she got to me? I'm clearly not strong enough?"

"It can't be that, Mingi...you've been doing this for a long time and seen off many demons before her - strong ones, too. There's something else going on here."

"Like what?"

"I didn't tell you before but I spoke to Yeosang again when I noticed you weren't yourself. Also, I saw you lose a feather so I knew something was wrong."

"What did he say?" Mingi asked, desperate to hear anything that might help.

Yunho blew out his cheeks, hesitating before he continued.

"He said sometimes our fate gets twisted. Our past gets entangled witrh our present."

"What's that meant to mean?" Mingi grumbled.

"It means you probably had some connection with her in your past life."

Mingi considered this revelation carefully. Not all angels and demons were created as such, some had had human lives before and became what they are now. They weren't permitted to remember those lives, though, lest they go looking for loved ones and cause complications in the human realm.

"Who was she to me then?"

"I would say she was someone very special to you." Both angels startled at the unexpected voice, looking around to see Yeosang standing in the doorway.

"Given what you've just told Yunho it would make sense, especially as you can feel the pull despite being on completely opposite sides."

"But why would I be here and she be there? Mingi asked the older, more experienced angel.

"Everyone has light and dark sides and people make mistakes. Some so big that it lands them in that place. Once there, they can't break free from that side of themselves."

Mingi looked thoughtful, trying to process this new information.

"What do I do then?" He asked, looking to Yeosang.

"That depends on what you want more - to remain here and carry on with this life or to be with her."

"And if I want to be with her?" Mingi asked tentatively.

"Then you give up this side of yourself and give in to darkness. You make the choice to 'fall' and there's no returning."

                                                    ********

You didn't expect to see Mingi again, if he was strong enough to leave during what you were doing, you were sure he wouldn't risk coming back and putting his soul in jeopardy again. Yet still you waited. You'd admitted your feelings to yourself but had no idea what to do now - it's not like you could just go and find him, you couldn't enter his realm any more than he could come to yours.

You were sick of waiting in the stupid human's apartment so you went outside for fresh air and to get away from the same stupid walls you's been staring at for hours now. You hadn't even had the motivation to mess with Kwangsoo while you were waiting, your mind was solely on Mingi.

Leaning against the wall and slumping down to the floor, you wrapped your black wings around you as you hung your head and hugged your knees to yourself. As a demon you were strong, you'd never been bested by an angel before so it was unbelievable to you that this one had reduced you to this crumpled figure on the street.

You weren't sure how long you sat there lost in thought but an uneasy feeling and a shiver down your spine told you someone was approaching. You looked up half expecting it simply to be whichever angel had taken over Mingi's mission but, to your surprise, the tall sandy blonde angel himself stood in front of your curled up form, looking down at you.

For a time you both just looked at each other, neither knowing what to do or say in such an alien situation, but eventually you rose to your feet and stood looking up at him. You could see that he was no longer looking at you in fear but still had a hint of aprehension in his eyes as if he didn't know what to expect from you but you guessed that was a fair assumption, you were a demon, after all, and demons were known to be erratic. You did your best to look like you weren't a threat to him - and maybe your weakened aura helped a little - but still you gave off bad vibes naturally.

"What's your name?" He finally spoke.

Well, of all the things you might have expected him to say, that was not one of them.

"Y/N." You replied cautiously, looking at him quite suspiciously.

"Y/N..." He repeated your name quietly to himself, almost as if trying to remember something. All you could think of was how nice your name sounded being spoken in that rough, deep voice of his.

All the while you stood just watching him, wondering where on Earth this exchange was going. He, in turn, was watching you.

"You're not trying to destroy me today?" He said in an almost amused tone.

"No..." you replied quietly, looking away because his eyes were just too beautiful to look at and it hurt that you weren't going to see them again given the choice you had made while you sat curled up against the cold pavement.

"I'm going to leave you alone now...you don't have to worry about me harassing you anymore." If you really had feelings for him, how could you ruin him and force him into darkness? You laughed bitterly to yourself, he really had gotten to you if you - a fucking demon - were feeling bad about turning him.

Mingi nodded at this before saying something you never would have imagined,

"And if I want you to harass me?"

Your head shot up to look at him, trying to read his face and work out where he was going with this. Again you looked at him suspiciously.

Mingi let out a deep breath and fixed his gaze on you, freezing you in place with its intensity.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the last time...when you...well, you know..."

You almost smiled - it was cute how he was so innocent and couldn't finish that thought verbally - but the stronger feeling within you was shock. Had he just admitted what you thought he had?

"Mingi..." You said hesitantly, "...What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I...I wa-" He stopped to collect himself, clearly having trouble with the admission, "I want you."

You stared at him, trying to process his statement. You had decided that you wouldn't take the light out of his life but now he was willingly coming to you - without you coercing him, as was your usual method. The method that had failed just days ago.

"I don't understand this! I shouldn't have any feelings for you!" You cried out in frustration. "Hearing you say that should not be making me happy."

As you admitted your feelings, Mingi's eyes lit up with hope. He came to you having no idea if you were even capable of feeling the same as him or if you were just like the others...simply Hell-bent on destroying the good in him.

He crossed the small distance between you and took your face in his large hands, you could see the hesitation still in his eyes - you guessed this was difficult for him.

"Are you sure this is really what you want? There's no way back." You asked gently.

"I'm sure. I've made my decision...I'm going to fall. For you." You giggled at the unintended cheesy line and watched Mingi cringe a little as he realised how that had sounded.

You took the lead, leaning up to connect your lips with his. This was new to him but he seemed to have some instinct for what to do as he reciprocated, melting in to the kiss. It felt different to the last time you kissed when you were only interested in corrupting him...this felt new to you, too. It was like there was some connection you hadn't realised before.

You knew no one could see you and Mingi but, as you kissed down the soft skin on his neck, you felt like out on the street was exposed. Normally you liked the feeling, the dirtiness of it but you felt like it should be better for him. You still weren't quite sure why, you'd ruined angels before and it had never bothered you that it was their first time - in fact, making their first time so dirty and meaningless had added to your enjoyment of it and destroyed their soul just that little bit more, you had always thought.

You stopped kissing Mingi, causing his soft moans to come to a halt, "Not here. There's somewhere better nearby."

You instantly transported the both of you to a vacant room in a hotel you'd been to many times whilst toying with humans, the most appropriate place you could think of at short notice.

Once in the room you pushed Mingi down on to the plush, king-sized bed and climbed on top of him, immediately latching your lips on to his neck. Mingi gasped as you bit down and sucked on his soft skin. His deep moans sounded so beautiful as you licked over the area to soothe it before moving on to another spot then watching his clear skin redden after your assaults on it.

You moved back up to kiss his plump, pink lips as you began to unbutton his brilliant white shirt, your tongues swirling around each other as Mingi became more confident but still allowed you to dominate the kiss. With his shirt undone you  began a fresh assault on the smooth skin of his chest, biting and licking from his collarbone down to his hard nipples which you paid special attention to. Taking one of his nubs between your teeth, you used your tongue to tease the tip of it, all the while piching the other between your thumb and forefinger.

The sounds of surprise coming from Mingi each time he felt a sensation he'd never felt before fascinated you. You'd never paid much attention with previous conquests but, as much as it still confused you, you had feelings for this particular angel and each of the enthralling sounds falling from his lips made you want to hear more - to please him more.

As you reached his stomach you brought your hands down to the waistband of his white trousers, undoing the button and unzipping them before you reached in to feel how hard he had become at your ministrations.

"Mmmm, so hard for me already." You purred as you ran your wet tongue around the shell of his ear.

You didn't miss the uncertain look on your angel's face as he grabbed your wrist to stop you, your heart plummeting to your stomach thinking he was changing his mind again.

"I won't force you...I understand if you want to change your mind." You said quietly, trying to pull your hand out of his grasp and his trousers.

"It's not that." He said, looking embarrassed, "I still want this...I just...don't know what to do."

Your heart lifted at his words and a small part of you was still scared of how much he was affecting you. It wasn't normal for a demon to feel like this.

"Leave it to me." You smiled down at him, "I'll take care of you."

Mingi let go of your wrist and tried to relax underneath you but you could see he was still nervous. It made you want to be different from the other times when it was all just about the pleasure you got from destroying them. You wanted him to really enjoy this and not feel like he was losing to you. Trying to be as gentle as you could you pulled his trousers and pants down in one go and took his hard cock in your hand.

You stroked him lightly, at first, but got steadily faster and harder as you heard his deep moans intensify. You licked your lips at the precum making the tip of his dick glisten and dove down to lick it all off.

"Oh, fuck!" Mingi gasped out at the way your wet tongue was lapping at his slit. It must've been the first time he'd ever said that kind of word and hearing it from the angels mouth made you start getting wet. You looked back up at your angel and heard him groan in pleasure at the sight of your lips stained with his precum, his eyes were dark with lust. Looking away you wrapped your wet lips around his thick cock and started to suck as you swirled your tongue around the head, paying extra attention to the sensitive spot on the underside. You remembered how much he moaned that last time when you flicked your tongue over it and you just wanted to hear those beautiful sounds again. You never wanted to stop hearing them.

By now Mingi wasn't that far away from cumming - and it wasn't a surprise given that he never had before - but you didn't want it to be like this. You wanted that thick cock of his inside you. You wanted him to cum inside you so, reluctantly, you pulled away, seeing his member shining, coated in your saliva. You took Mingi's right hand and wrapped it around his dick, gently urging him to stroke himself while you undressed for him. He seemed to be getting more excited and pumping himself faster the more clothes you removed, getting himself closer to climax again. You felt incredibly excited watching him touch himself and you felt just how much more wet you were becoming just from that, although, having his dick in your mouth had helped a lot. Sucking cock was one of your favourite things to do because it always felt so dirty.

"Not yet, Angel." You told him as you pulled his hand away form his now painfully hard cock, "I want you to save all that cum for me."

Mingi's eyes flashed with desire as you whispered those words in his ear and, for the first time, he initiated the kiss, his large hand grabbing the back of your head and pulling you down towards his waiting mouth.

It made your heart lift, knowing that he wanted this too...that you weren't just coercing him and, again, you wondered what it was about this angel that he had managed to change you like this.

You kissed him sloppily, reaching down to stroke his aching cock a few times before lining him up with your soaking wet hole. Although you were trying to be gentle with him, you couldn't wait to have his impressive girth fill you up so you weren't quite as patient as you could have been. You couldn't help it, you sunk down on to his thick cock in one smooth motion, feeling every inch as it slid into you. Both Mingi and you moaned loudly at the sensation - him at the feeling of your tight cunt swallowing him up and you at the delicious stretch which caused an equal amount of pain and pleasure.

As you bounced up and down on Mingi's cock you watched in awe as his beautiful face scrunched up in a pleasure he'd never felt before. His luminescent aura had almost completely faded now and the room had a different feel - darker now as his goodness slipped away a little more each time he sloppily thrust up into you, losing himself to the pleasure your warm, wet cunt was giving him.

The feeling of having him inside you was indescribable but not just because of the way your tight hole hugged his length causing you to feel so blissfully full you thought you couldn't take anymore. It felt familiar and comforting. Mingi stared at you with the same look of awe in his impossibly dark eyes as you had watching him and, somehow, he felt like home. You didn't know what it meant but you knew you were already becoming addicted to this feeling. It gave your approaching orgasm a new dimension...an intensity you'd never felt with anyone else before - even the other demons who were, by nature, amazing lovers.

You could feel Mingi's sloppy thrusts starting to stutter, signalling that he was close. You could feel his cock twitching inside you and that, together with his deep grunts, threw you over the edge. You threw yourself down to kiss him as you came, wanting to feel him everywhere you could. As you came over Mingi's cock, the feeling of your already tight heat squeezing him even harder as he thrust up into you became too much for him to bear and he moaned out loud as he shot creamy white cum all over you walls. He gave a few more shallow thrusts before he relaxed, closing his eyes.

His luminescence was completely gone now that it was complete. He had fallen. There was no going back for him. You hoped he wouldn't regret this, you desperately wanted him to stay with you -  though, you wondered why him when no one else had ever managed to move you even the slightest bit? You gazed down at him as you pondered this, he was still breathing hard and as you watched him he started to change. All angels changed in appearance once they 'fell'. The feeling of goodness and purity had already gone from him but you supposed it was a visual manifestation of his new state. His gentle-looking face would go, leaving in its place a colder but more tempting mask. Still the same features but a darker beauty than the pure one he had before.

Mingi's short, sandy-blonde hair transformed, bleeding bright red from the roots to the ends as it grew a little longer with a slight wave to it. His wings - which had looked a dirtier white with missing feathers when he came to you today - started to flutter as they changed. You watched as it started from the top, the white being taken over by a deep black which matched your own. It ran down the length of his wings like someone pouring ink all over them and the missing feathers were replaced with shiny new black ones. As the new feathers fluttered you noticed the barest hint of red as the low light of the room hit them - complementing his new hair colour. He was utterly breathtaking.

Although Mingi had already been generously proportioned, you felt his thighs thicken a little more underneath you and his chest and arms become more defined. His clothes were the last to change, turning black to remove all traces of his former connection to the angels' realm. There was nothing left now...you could only wait to see how much he had changed himself.

Slowly, Mingi opened his eyes to look up at you - his cock was still buried deep inside you and he didn't immediately make a move to change that but he did move his hands from where they held onto your hips. You waited nervously to see what he would do, your bottom lip caught in between your teeth as you worried. He brought both hands up to cup your face and pulled your lip from between your teeth with his thumb, rubbing over it gently  to soothe the marks your teeth had left. The affectionate gesture made you release a breath you hadn't realised you were holding because he didn't immediately reject you now he was changed. Maybe it wasn't too bad, maybe his personality hadn't altered too much. You'd like to think not because it was Angel Mingi you fell in love with...how would you feel if he was a completely different person - a demon in the truest sense of the word.

Suddenly the former angel flipped you both over so he was now above you, his cock still buried deep inside your sensitive pussy. Startled by his quick movements you could only stare up at him, your eyes wide, as he leant down to kiss you deeply, not asking for permission to slip his tongue into your mouth but taking control himself - biting your lip so your mouth parted with a gasp, giving him the access he wanted. He took your wrists in his big, strong hands and held them in place on either side of your head

You could feel the confidence emanating from this new Mingi and it turned you on. You may have enjoyed dominating and corrupting plenty of humans and angels alike but really you enjoyed being dominated. When you played with Hongjoong and Seonghwa you almost always allowed them to take full control, submitting to them both and allowing them to use you however they wanted. The thought of Mingi taking control and using you for his own pleasure shot thrills of arousal through you, causing your clit to start tingling with anticipation.

Mingi changed his grip so he now easily held both your wrists together in one of his hands and used the other to loosen your clothing and expose your breasts to him. Leaning down, he kissed around one of your breasts - teasing - before finally taking your hard nipple in his mouth and sucking hard, while pinching the other between his thumb and forefinger.

The whine you let out at the sensation was loud and needy and you knew he liked it because you felt his cock start to harden again. He hadn't pulled out of you, even when he flipped you both over, so you could feel it as his cock got bigger, the generous girth stretching you out again and when his tip brushed against your g-spot you mewled in pleasure. In response, Mingi thrust deeply and you cried out loud because you were still so sensitive.

"So needy already..." Mingi growled in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin, "Do you love my cock that much?"

"Yes, I...Aaaahh." You couldn't finish because the red-head had just bitten down on your neck, drawing blood and marking you as his. Although it hurt, it was an exquisite pain...you liked him claiming you so that everyone knew you belonged to him. This was really what you wanted, for Mingi make you submit to him, to own you. If anyone wanted you now, they would have to ask his permission. Hwa and Joong wouldn't like it much as they were used to playing with you whenever any of you liked but they would respect the claim.  

As if he knew what you had been up to thus far, Mingi looked at you challengingly and growled out, "You've been such a dirty little whore, haven't you?"

"Yes...but I'm your dirty little whore now." You looked up at him through your lashes, so submissive now.

Mingi started to fuck you again, hard and fast, grunting out between thrusts, "And who..does this tight little pussy...belong to now?"

"You, Mingi!" You all but screamed out as he pounded into you so roughly. "My tight little pussy belongs to you!"

"That's right, whore. This cunt is mine to fuck however and whenever I want."

Mingi bit down hard on your breast, he didn't draw blood this time but it was definitely hard enough to leave a mark. He continued biting all over your chest and collarbone as he fucked you, licking over the areas where he had bitten to soothe them.

The sounds in the room were lewd, to say the least, your loud moans and Mingi's deep grunts adding to the filthy, wet sound of him thrusting in and out of you over and over again. You were still full of his cum from his first orgasm and it sounded so dirty as he fucked it back up into you. Mingi leaned up and watched his hard cock slide in and out of your core, glistening with your combined juices.

"This filthy little cunt is so small and tight it can't take my big cock and all my cum at once...it's squirting out as I fuck you."

The ex-angel slid his finger over your folds as they hugged his thick cock, gathering up some of his cum and lifting it to your lips, "Lick it off, Whore."

You did as you were told, cleaning his finger completely of his salty cum, never breaking eye contact. "More, please." You smiled up at him with fake innocence.

"Fuck. You're so dirty." Mingi groaned before collecting even more cum on two of his long fingers and forcing them into your mouth. When you had sucked him clean, he leaned down and licked your lips where some of his cum was glistening, having escaped your tongue.

With his fingers still wet from your mouth he reached down and started to rub fast circles over your swollen clit. You were so close already from his degrading words and his new dominating persona that it didn't take much for you to be on the edge of another orgasm.

"Are you gonna cum again for me, baby?"

"Yes...please, Mingi, I want to cum for you."

"Cum all over my cock, then. That's all a whore like you is good for, after all."

You came hard, loving the way he was degrading you in his deep, rough voice and your tight walls clenching around him so hard almost stopped his thrusts.

"Fuck, your pussy is squeezing my cock so hard I almost can't move. You really love being my little whore, don't you."

You nodded, in too much of a daze from the intense orgasm to form a coherent sentence. It only took Mingi a few more deep thrusts to reach his second orgasm and you felt his cock twitch as he released, forcing more of his cum into you. As he pulled out you felt the warmth as both his releases gushed out from between your thighs.

"So beautiful..." Mingi said quietly as he watched it continue to run out, smearing it over you with his fingers.

"I'm yours now." He said, looking at you with a soft intensity that was in such contrast to how he had been with you just a moment ago. You loved that Mingi's demon form was so dominating and powerful but loved even more that he hadn't lost his feelings for you in the transition.

You laid on the bed together for a while, you were still a little out of it so he just held you in his arms tightly.

Eventually you broke the silence, "Shall we go home?"

Mingi's soft smile made your heart stutter in a way you still weren't used to, "Sure...show me where I belong now."

                                                     ********

"So... This is the one who took you away from us." Hongjoong looked Mingi over, sizing him up. He may have been a fair bit smaller than your new demon boyfriend but he was much stronger as Mingi was so new.

"Be nice, Joongie..." Seonghwa chided gently, "He might still share."

You looked up at Mingi, wondering how he'd react. His possessive streak was evident the moment he was turned. He looked over the both of them...you weren't quite sure what he was thinking but if you were honest, it looked like he was eyeing them up. You weren't sure, though, you hadn't discovered all of his new personality traits yet.

Hwa was looking Mingi straight in the eye, smirking almost challengingly. In response your the red-haired demon lightly bit his bottom lip in between his teeth, clearly tempted by the invitation.

"I think we can play..." He said, looking straight back into Seonghwa's dark eyes, "Don't you, baby?" He mused, turning to you.

You smiled happily up at him, already imagining having all three of them using you as they wished.

"In that case, I wanna play, too." You heard San's voice chime in before you saw the demon leaning against the doorframe, his eyes twinkling in anticipation. This was gonna be fun.

[sweetestlamb]

You Can’t Just Leave Me

Summary: The Han family is a force to be reckoned with. 

Author’s Note: Writing this chapter made me smile, I hope reading it as the same affect on you all. Thank you to everyone who supports this story and leaves comments (or my silent readers). I appreciate you all and I am so thankful that you like this brainchild, I’ve just been winging it- never expecting to be on chapter 7 on something I initially planned on being a one shot. You all made it come this far, enjoy chapter 7!! Beautiful header by @ewolfwitchwisegirl text message created by Junjin fairy @prodmina

The apartment is eerily quiet following Su-ah's departure, he hadn't intentionally tried to eavesdrop but it was hard not to overhear their sniffles through the door. Then hours later the usually bubbly girl had exited the room with red rimmed eyes, he'd never seen her cry before in his many years of knowing her. He was awkward in the face of it, not used to comforting anyone besides Ju-Kyeong. 

Their conversation was clipped and it was clear that Sujin hadn't opened up about what happened. The Su-ah he knew would be making plans to sabotage her father, if she knew the full story.  She'd left with the final words, "Take care of her." He nodded without hesitation that was his intentions, he just needed to get her onboard with his plan to do that.

Taking a deep soothing breath he walks over to knock on the door.

"Sujin-ah, can we talk?" He asks, pressing his head against the door. Ready to plead if need be, she hadn't been answering him since being here. He never saw her come outside, but the food he brought would just disappear hours after he placed it. He waits patiently before reaching out his knuckles to knock again, but when the door suddenly opens he takes a quick step back surprised to see Sujin's face. It's clear she's been crying. He looks away, it's a bit unsettling to see her like this. Too raw.

"Let's talk in the living room." He suggests quietly, stepping back and walking towards the couch. Nerves easing minutely as he hears her soft footsteps behind him. He slides into one corner of the couch and watches as she sits on the opposite end. An awkward silence bellows around them as he stares at his hands and she stares at the ceiling. They have both never been the most talkative on a good day, but now it’s painful. 

He clears his throat stilling when he feels her eyes on him, waiting. He had this speech planned in his head for days but now that the moment is actually here, he's terrified. Too nervous to say the words he wants to, does he even have the right to apologize to her now? Does she even want his late apology or will she brush him off? He wouldn't blame her one bit, it had taken him too long and he still hasn't even forgiven himself, how could he expect her to forgive him? 

"Thank you."

He almost misses the quiet utterance because he's so lost in his own self deprecation. They are staring at each other now eyes locked, his own wide in bewilderment.

"What?" He responds caught off guard, he didn't expect Sujin to speak at all-much less for those to be her first words.

"You heard me. Thank you for letting me stay here and for not pressuring me to talk about it."  Sujin awkwardly squirms in her seat, glancing away from him before darting back and she gives him the courage to finally saw what he wanted- no needed to.

"I'm sorry." It's his turn to watch the shock form on her face but he presses on before she can question him. "I'm sorry I wasn't there, I knew what was happening but I didn't know how to help. I understand now that just being there would have been enough, you just needed a friend. I'm sorry I wasn't one."

A slight weight lifts off his shoulder and his heart, he's not free but he's one step closer. One step at a time.

"You didn't do anything wrong. We were just kids, what could you have done? It's okay, I never expected you to save me. How could you when you were dealing with your own pain?"

She's giving him an out, and logically she's right the pain of losing his mother crippled him for years. It was still weighing heavy on him to this day but he doesn't want an out, he wants to be accountable. He would rather her rage than her understanding.

"I know you didn't need a savior, but you needed a friend. Am I wrong? Were you okay dealing with everything on your own?" It's a low blow he's aware and the way her eyes narrow further confirm that his question isn't appreciated.

"Am I wrong?" He repeats and watches as the ice around her eyes melt away glacially, too many emotions flashing in her dark orbs- anger, sadness, disappointment, broken acceptance each emotion cutting at his heart.

Leaning forward he grabs at the folder on the table, he's already come this far might as well go all the way now.

"Here." He hands it to her, she raises an eyebrow taking the thick object. "Open it," he nods at the folder watching quietly as she breaks the seal and pulls out the documents, eyes scanning the papers before realization settles.

"Emancipation?" She whispers, now staring at him unblinking he can feel the heft of her undivided attention.

"Yes, we've been doing research and I think the best bet is for you to get emancipated." He winces at himself as she glares at the use of "we", he should have left that out with how distant they've been; she didn't even know that Seojun was the one providing the meals she seemed to love. She might stop eating them if she knew, she was so stubborn sometimes. 

She leaf's through the pages, carefully looking over the document and he sits silently awaiting her reaction.

"He would never allow this. You know that." It's said with certainty as if she's accepted her fate long ago, probably thought of this very option herself and then talked herself out of it.

"I'm going to ask her father to help, he's been supporting your father all these years. If he knew the truth..." He trails off letting her finish the rest and she barks out a humorless laugh, it sounds more like a sob.

"You want to tell your father? They have known each other for years, why would he believe me?"

"He's my dad. He'll believe me. We have to at least try." He pleads now desperate for her agreement. It wasn’t the right thing to say, he knows that instantly. 

Instantly she stands up, slamming the documents on the table the ice restoring around her eyes. "I was fine all those years you were wrong.  I'm not doing this, I don't need your dad's help." She spits the word "dad" like it's poison on her tongue, storming off to the room and slamming the door shut.

He sighs, defeated leaning back onto the couch. He sends a text to his father and Seojun. He failed. 

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Guilt eats at her following her outburst, she wasn't mad at Suho despite her harsh words. She can blame her anger on many things but she's self-aware enough to know that it's a defense mechanism; she was jealous. It was ugly and grotesque, but she cannot stop the way her blood boils when she sees others with parents that care. 

He's my father, he'll believe me.

That would never be her reality, Suho and his father had been able to reconcile and restart their broken relationship. That would never be her truth, her relationship with her father would never resemble something healthy and despite her efforts to repress her true feelings, it hurts. The little girl who desperately wanted to make her dad happy and proud still hadn't died.

She feels stupid, the biggest fool on the planet. How can she still be looking for love from someone who has never shown her anything but hatred? She’s the one with a problem here, she knows that. 

She shouldn't have lashed out especially after his apology, that must have taken true guts and she had thrown it all back in his face. She tries to make amends but every time they cross paths she freezes up and escapes to her borrowed room instead. It continues on for days with him still bringing food to her door and the combination of their kindness is too much for her. She doesn’t deserve it from either of them. 

Tugging on her jacket she leaves the apartment hastily with only a small note on her door. She needs some space to think without feeling suffocated.

Gone for a walk.

It's just her luck that it's raining outside, only a drizzle but it coats the world in a thick fog and it's hard to see. The biggest benefit is that nobody can see her, she just needs time alone to think. 

The idea of emancipation wasn't new to her, she had considered this option before but in the end she discarded it. Her father wasn't someone she would simply leave, he would drag her back kicking and screaming. He had instilled long ago that she was his, it was pointless to have dreams or aspirations, she just needed to follow his orders. That was her purpose. Being an obedient dog. 

Suho's plan also called for revealing her pitiful life, what if she went through this ordeal only to lose and not be given emancipation in the end? No. She couldn't make herself that vulnerable at least now she had her dignity, only two people knew about her secret. It might not be much to others, but her dignity was everything to her; it was all she had left.

Sighing loudly at the skies she mentally curses the weather, maybe it's poetic but all of her worst times have been bookmarked by the rain. It must be a metaphor for her life, damp and cold with no warmth in sight.

Stopping to sit on a bench she stares up at the gray skies before closing her eyes, accepting her fate. "Fine, rain on me. I probably deserve this." Cool raindrops roll down her cheeks imitating tears and she can feel the moisture seeping into her clothes and siphoning her heat.

"Unnie?" She jumps at the voice, sounding too close and she shifts away when she opens her eyes and is greeted by the large bespectacled eyes of Gowoon. The younger girl smiles sweetly, covering her with a pale blue umbrella with ice cream cones decorating it. It’s too innocent and too young the antithesis of everything in her life. 

"Unnie! What are you doing in the rain? You're getting wet!" Gowoon grabs her arm tugging her to her feet using her umbrella to shelter them both. She's shocked when she doesn't bristle at the unexpected and too familiar manhandling. She almost rolls her eyes, what was it with the Han family and finding her during rainstorms? 

"Come on, my house isn't far. I'll make you some soup so you don't catch a cold." The other girl doesn't wait for her reply before she starts pulling her down the sidewalk. She sputters but feels her feet following obediently.

"Oppa is working late, so he won't be there to bother us."

Her heart defiantly jumps at the mention of him, she hasn't seen him in a week. She has dozens of unsent messages to him, cowardice has rendered her fingers useless though. 

"That's good." She lies, "So it'll just be us two?" She's not quite ready to meet any other members of the Han family.

The other girl nods absently, easily easing them into a riveting conversation about a boy at school who won't leave her alone. She offers to beat him up if he keeps on bothering her to which Gowoon laughs gleefully before squealing, "You sound just like Seojun oppa!" She glares at the comparison watching entranced at the young girl's uncontrollable giggles. When was the last time she'd laughed so freely? She had no recollection.

Gowoon wasn't lying and within minutes she's staring at the apartment she's only seen once before. That feels like a lifetime ago.

She immediately regrets her inability to say no to persuasive girl later when they are greeted at the door.

"Gowoon, sweetie is that you?" A maternal voice calls out and she instantly recognizes it, stiffening in the doorway. Stepping back she starts thinking of excuses, but her tongue is too heavy in her mouth and she's too slow as the woman comes around the corner halting her escape. 

She blinks unhurried as the older woman gapes at her clearly not expecting to see anyone besides her daughter.

Gowoon breaks the silence, her voice nonchalant, "Hi mom! This is my unnie Sujin, she's the one who saved me the other day! Is it okay that I brought her here for dinner, I found her in the rain!" Gowoon makes it sound like she picked up a stray puppy outside, but she knows the other girl means no harm. 

Her skin prickles at the question, anxiety filling her stomach without her permission. She's waiting for rejection. For Gowoon’s mother to say that it is not okay and she would rather eat with her daughter without a stranger intruding. 

"Of course! I didn't realize it was the same Sujin." Gowoon looks confused by her mother's statement and she feels embarrassment swarming in her belly. Oh no. She has to stop her before she reveals too much, Gowoon knows nothing and she wants to keep it that way. 

"I didn't realize you knew Sujin too, isn't this Seojun's cru.."

"Classmate!" She suddenly interjects staring at the woman with pleading eyes, she's not ready for Gowoon to know about her brothers “feelings”. She's trying her best to forgot them too.

They both stare at her and she squirms under the scrutiny, before the older woman puts her out of her misery. "Yes, Seojun mentioned her before I didn't realize she was the same person that helped you. Thank you." She freezes as the woman embraces her hand, smiling at her warmly as she thanks her. She can only stare in response, nodding dumbly.

"Come on unnie! I'll get you some warm clothes, you'll catch a cold if you keep wearing those."

She lets herself be tugged into the younger girl’s room. Just like Gowoon the room is bright and vivacious, wall covered in posters and books littering her table. It looks completely normal and it makes her ache, her own room was militarily decorated with nothing out of place and no evidence of her personality. Since she was young her father would inspect it and punish her if anything was untoward. She had stopped trying to make the room look lived in after seeing poster after poster thrown down. 

"Here unnie. You can borrow this." Her eyes bulge at a familiar blue shirt with a puppy on the front. "I know it's so embarrassing but oppa got it for me, it's really warm though." In the end he'd gotten her to wear the ridiculous shirt, she reluctantly goes off to change into the top and leggings. They are the same baby blue hue, making the outfit look like a set. She's thankful the boy isn't here to see her.

"Well don't you look adorable?" Seojun's mom coos at her when she finally comes out of the bathroom, she desperately wants to disappear. The woman must notice her ruby cheeks because she turns with a smile calling out to her daughter, "Gowoon! Come help with dinner!"

Now changed too, into cactus pajamas the younger girl bounds out grabbing an apron and tying it behind her back.

"What are are we making?" She curiously peeks over her mom's shoulder. The air between the mother and daughter is comfortable, the two leaning into each other naturally as they discuss what to make for dinner. She observes with a heavy heart as Gowoon easily puts her head on her mom's shoulder and the woman strokes her cheek lovingly. Something inside her throbs in response.

"Do you want to help?"

Shaking her head to clear the longing she looks at their mom, who's looking back at her with soft eyes already holding out another apron.

She can't control herself her yearning is too large, she stands without hesitation walking to the woman, sucking in a breath when the apron is placed over her shoulders and then tightened snuggly.

"We're making wonton soup. Have you ever made dumplings before sweetie?"

She looks at Gowoon waiting for her reply but then realizes that both pair of eyes are on her and oh, she's talking to her. She called her sweetie. Swallowing thickly she shakes her head before replying, "No. I've never made them before." She waits to be berated or at least chastised for her lack of culinary skills, her father always said a woman's place was in the kitchen.

Nothing happens. The woman hums before smiling again, she's always smiling it's so pretty. She wishes she had the courage to say the words aloud. She doesn't.

"You can help Gowoon chop the vegetables for the filling. Then we can mix it with the ground pork and I'll show you how to make the dumplings." If the woman is disappointed at all at having to teach her she's doing an incredible job of concealing her frustrations.

She accepts the knife when Gowoon hands it to her, both of them working on a wooden cutting board. They've gotten into somewhat of a rhythm slicing the chives and carrots finely for the filling. She'd never chopped vegetables before but their mom had casually stood behind her shocking her so much she almost dropped the knife, but the older woman had easily caught the utensil before holding her hand and manually showing her how to tuck her fingers and mince the vegetables. She froze before imitating the woman, she was good at replicating acts.

"That looks great sweetie! You're a fast learner!" The woman praised her turning back to the broth and adding more seasoning liberally. She preened under the attention smiling shyly before Gowoon shouted out loudly, "What about me mom? How do mine look?" They both looked at the younger girl's unevenly chopped chives and carrots, next to Sujin's perfectly identical veggies all in an even row. The difference between the two is stark. 

"They look fine dear, they'll be hidden in the dumplings anyway." Her mother tries to soothe her ego, patting her shoulder before turning back to her soup dismissively and a burst of laughter explodes from her chest at the offended look on Gowoon's face, her cheeks are red and her mouth is turned down in an exaggerated frown. The younger girl looks positively livid that her mother is not similarly singing her praises and she starts to defiantly chop more vegetables, only to have them come out even worst; even more lopsided and haggard. 

She tries to tamper her laugh but when the younger girl starts whining, crying about how her veggies were “cousins not siblings” she loses it, clutching at the counter for balance. She feels the air bursting from her lungs as she clutches at her stomach, laughing harder when Gowoon glares at her pout on her lips. The older woman joins her rubbing her daughter's back as she cries about her dignity, and then Gowoon looks at them both laughing at her and a smile spreads on her face and soon they are all laughing in the kitchen, soup bubbling beside them as a delicious aroma permeates the room.

None of them hear the front door opening or a deep voice announcing its arrival.

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He's cold, tired and wet. Once again missing the forecast for rain, he really needed to start carrying an umbrella around all the time. What was up with the weather lately anyway? Why was it raining all the damn time?  He absently thinks of a certain someone and hopes she's somewhere warm out of the rain. They always seemed to meet when the sky was pouring and raging. 

It was hard not contacting her but he wanted to listen to her requests and respect her wishes no matter how hard it was for him, it was also getting pathetic being the only one fighting for this. She hadn't outright rejected him after his confession but her silence was an answer in itself and he wanted to respect that. He wasn't too manly to admit that he was hurt, and he was reeling from being pushed away so many times already.

So he followed his mother's advice, he'd given her something that he knew she needed and expected nothing in return.

All week he'd been waking up early to cook for the girl, reading recipes off his phone  fluffy cat headband on his head keeping his fringe out of his eyes. The easier recipes like soup and grilled meats had been simple enough to accomplish but when he ventured into more complicated bento boxes that's when frustrations had arose. They looked so easy but they were tedious and he wasn’t the most patient or detail oriented person. 

He struggled to recreate the detailed meals and almost gave up,  throwing his phone across the room.

That's how his mother had found him, fuming and tugging his hair on the kitchen table. Seconds away from bashing his head into the surface and screaming at the ceiling. 

"What are you doing up so early?" He jumped at her voice, looking around at the mess he'd made in the kitchen with wide guilty eyes.

"I-I can explain." He stuttered out but couldn't come up with a feasible answer once she looked at him expectantly, arms folded. The patented mom stare. 

She had calmly walked across the room picking up his discarded phone, peering at the screen before looking back at him.

"Is this for your friend?" She shook the phone at him knowingly and he pressed his lips tight together, nodding mutely while looking away.

"Okay let's see what you have so far." His mom walked over and assessed what he had already made, nodding with a proud smile. "You did good so far, let me show you how to make a hotdog into an octopus. I did this for you all the time when you were a kid."

He was grateful when she didn't ask him any questions and it became their morning ritual, until he no longer needed guidance and he was able to make the boxes on his own. The satisfaction he felt when Suho would return the containers, clean as a whistle not even a grain of rice remaining was incomparable. It wasn't much but at least she was eating, that was all he needed even if she didn't want to see him or know that he was the one making her meals.

He sighs at himself, he told himself not to think about her but that was proving easier said than done.

Shaking himself at the front door like a wet dog, he tugs his keys from the back pocket of his jeans slotting it on the doorknob and turning.

"I'm home!" He calls out instinctively announcing his arrival as he toes off his drenched boots, but then his eyebrow lifts as he hears peals of laughter coming from the kitchen. He chuckles without knowing the joke, instantly rejuvenated by his family's abundant joy. Slipping on his slippers after hesitating a second because he doesn't recognize the shoe at the front door. When did Gowoon get those and how the hell was his little sister affording Chanel sneakers?

Those thoughts are swarming in his mind when he stomps to the kitchen, all the air sucked from his lungs when he sees an unbelievable vision. His mother and sister are grasping at each other, lost in laughter completely unaware of his presence but the image that most shocks him is Sujin, holding her stomach as she spots something on the counter that sets her off into another bout of boisterous laughter.

He can't help it he starts to categorize her every move, the way her eyes are crinkled and a stray tear is leaking out the corner, the way her nose is scrunched up like a rabbit and the way her mouth is stretched wide, visible even behind the futile shield of her hand. All of his thoughts from earlier regarding not needing to see her dissipate, he wants to tattoo this image in his mind.

"Oh! You're here!" His mother suddenly turns to face him and that causes Sujin to freeze laughter fading off with a whine, regarding him with huge bright eyes. It's almost too much once he notices what she's wearing, he wasn't prepared to see her like this in his house. It's overwhelming in the best way.

"I'm home. I'll go change and come help." Both his mother and Gowoon nod easily no longer paying him any mind but he can feel eyes on him as he runs away, trying to regain his composure and his breath. He purposely avoids Sujin's eyes not ready to see if the walls are back up at his arrival.

When he comes back out the table is already set and they've all taken a seat, the only available chair is between his mom and Sujin, so he takes a calming breath before walking over with fake confidence. He’s used to faking it until he makes it. That could be the name of his biography. 

He answers his family's questions about work and school blowing on the soup before taking a bite of the slightly lopsided dumpling. What it's lacking in appearance it more than makes up for in flavor, he groans at the delicious flavor that dances on his taste buds looking up excitedly at his mom.

"These dumplings are delicious! Thank you for the meal!" He praises his mom, happily chewing at the soft delicacy in his mouth.

"Thank you Junnie, but I didn't make the dumplings. They worked on the filling together but Sujin-ah seasoned and filled the dumplings while I made the broth and your sister helped with the side dishes." His mother smiles proudly over at the two girls, Gowoon beaming with pride but Sujin, almost disappears into her soup her head so close to the steaming hot bowl.

They haven’t said anything to each other and he's nervous to be the one to break this stalemate but he also really wants to talk to her, has wanted to since he stepped through the door and saw her smiling face. Has wanted to since that night he stormed out and didn't look back. So finally he does, gathering all his bravery to finally look over at her.

"The dumplings are great." And when she doesn't look up or seemingly react at all, he tells himself he's fine and he expected that. She wasn't ready to talk to him yet, it was his own fault for hoping when she'd explicitly told him to stop doing that.

So he goes back to eating, more lethargic than before eyes locked on nothing but his food and his spoon. It was embarrassing. He knows his cheeks are pink and he hates it.

"Thank you. I just followed your mom's directions. It was nothing."

He pauses, peeking up at her and almost choking when she shoots him a small smile before filling her bowl with more rice.

His heart thumps in his chest. Fuck.

He doesn't hear anything else the rest of the meal, too lost in his thoughts and it's only familiarity that has him standing up when everyone is finished, collecting the plates and bringing them to the sink.

"It's almost time for Sunbae, don’t wear those high heels!!" Gowoon shouts, he cringes at the name of the new drama they've been obsessively watching, he'd only tuned in one time before flabbergasted by the exorbitant amount of times the female protagonist had fallen into the arms of various men but especially the male lead. She fell off a balcony into his arms that time, with neither of them needing to be admitted to the hospital somehow. His mother and Gowoon had both hushed him when he'd voiced that particular opinion and he had happily banished himself to his room.

"Oh no, I'm going to miss it because I'm washing the dishes." He replies deadpan as his sister rolls her eyes dramatically at him, "Whatever it's your loss. Let's go I want to see if she's going to choose the sweet bad boy or the cold cute guy!"

He scoffs at the cliché characterizations scrubbing harder at the plate.

"Come on unnie!" Sujin gasps as she's tugged to the living room too, glancing over he sees his little sister place her in the middle of the couch sandwiched between her and his mother. Sujin looks overwhelmed as Gowoon animatedly tries to catch her up on the series. He shakes his head, maybe the show wasn't that bad. He could watch a few minutes with them.

He strolls casually to the living room, easing onto the ground beside his mother's legs after all the dishes are clean and drying.

"What are you doing here? I thought you despised this "cringey" show?" He leans his head back, sighing when his mother eases her fingers into his hair scratching at his scalp and he sighs content in her lap.

"I do. But it's too early to sleep so I have no choice but to watch this crap."

"Mom! He said crap!"

"Watch your language."

His mother scolds him immediately and Gowoon sticks out her tongue at him vindicated because he got in trouble and immaturely he does it back, tugging off her sock much to her chagrin, dodging her when she tries to kick him.

Sujin looks back and forth between them both before discretely looking at their mother, she seems shocked when all the woman does is chuckle and say, "Children please. Do I need to remind you that we have a guest?" He looks away bashfully not wanting to look childish in front of Sujin, he hadn't thought about that. That makes them settle down and he finally looks at the TV, groaning loudly when low and behold the heroine is falling again, tripping over a candy wrapper on the ground.

"She falls a lot. She should probably wear protective gear." Sujin says breaking their new silence and he chuckles at her observation, happy that someone agrees with him, excitedly he turns to her "Right! Last time she fell off a balcony!" He shouts in disbelief and suddenly they're all arguing about the feasibility of someone surviving that. His mother shaking her head fondly at them, choosing to say out of it which makes Gowoon pout because she's outnumbered.

"Okay who would you choose Unnie, the tsundere type or the bad boy with a heart of gold?" Suddenly he's very invested in her answer, he tries not to react staring at the ceiling and breathing evenly but inside his heart is thundering ready to pound out of his chest.

A few seconds drag on and he wonders if she's not going to answer, he doesn't even know why he cares so much but curiously is gripping at him. He knows that this doesn't mean anything necessarily and he's not getting his hopes up but--

"The sweet guy. He just looks like a bad boy but he's sweet to her, he never says anything mean to her. That would be nice." She answers, trailing off at the end and he hears Gowoon instantly disagreeing saying the other guy is way better, but he can barely hear his sister over the thumping of his heart in his ears, he can't help the wide smile that spreads on his face. 

He turns to hide it in his mom's lap.

It doesn't leave his face the rest of the night.

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It's getting late, she knows that it's time for her to take her leave she's been imposing on them for too long but....she doesn't want to. She doesn't want to leave, they are so warm. She's never seen a family like this outside of television shows, how was it possible that this was their real life? How could they have a mother who was that loving? Everything they did was greeted with fond exasperation, where was the reprimanding or cold backhanded words that cut like a knife?

She'd even treated her kindly, calling her sweetie more than she said her name. And she got used to it similar to how she'd gotten used to Seojun calling her princess, she knew she should fight it but she didn't want to. She was ashamed to say she liked it. 

She tries to soak it up for as long as she can before she says reluctantly, "I should probably go. it's getting late." Then she watches in a daze as the woman races off before returning with containers stacked and tied in a bag.

Before she can argue or refuse their mom is already shaking her head, "You made this so it's only right that you take it home. I won't take no for an answer." At this point that should have been the Han family motto she thinks fondly. But she accepts the food, bowing in gratitude at the simple act of kindness.

"Unnie, can I have your number? I just realized I don't have it and we're so close!" Gowoon thrusts her phone out with two hands, giving her the biggest puppy eyes she's ever seen. Without a word she accepts the phone, punching in her number before handing it back. She hadn’t realized the girl considered them close, but she finds that she doesn’t mind it at all. 

"Thank you! I'll text you so you can have my number too." The younger girl dances in celebration before grabbing her in a hug, she awkwardly pats her on the back once before she's finally set free. They're all so naturally affectionate and she's not the least bit accustomed to it, used to harsh words and slaps instead of praises and hugs.

"Get home safely sweetie. Junnie! Where did you go? Come walk her home!" She rushes to say it's okay she doesn't need an escort home, she's fine walking by herself it truly wasn't that far it turned out. But Seojun comes out of his room, changed again with a coat on and a beanie. Walking over to them he thrusts a sweater at her, when she looks blankly he replies sounding defensive, "It's probably colder now. Put this on too." He pushes it at her again firmer and she grabs it, gasping when their fingers brush.

It's a thick dark green sweater with fleece lining the interior and it smells just like his earthy cologne, she wants to give it back. Instead she puts it on over her borrowed long sleeve shirt from Suho and feels like a child playing dress up when it reaches the bottom of her knees. She knows what he's thinking when he smirks at her, she wasn't short he was just a damn giant.

She takes off the slippers and slides back into her sneakers, thankful that they're dry now. She's distracted by Seojun's heat, he's so close to her putting on his own boots. So much so she nearly misses what his mother says, "Get home safely. Please come again soon, I need more maturity in this house." Seojun and Gowoon both shout affronted but all she can see is the genuine smile on her face, she finds herself nodding throat too thick for words. When she's pulled into another hug, this time she has to blink away tears arms still by her side. She’s vibrating from keeping her emotions contained. 

They are walking side by side, the sounds of the city filling the silence that would be present. Every once in a while their arms brush but he moves away after the third time and she feels cold, more so than when the wind blows.

They're getting closer to Suho's apartment and she's wrecking her brain to find something to say to him, knowing that the ball is in her court; it always has been. She's just terrified to swing her racket. What if she misses? Or trips and embarrasses herself? It was usually better to just do nothing then you wouldn't be disappointed.

With each step she loses more courage until they are standing in front of the building and she still hasn't said anything.

Coward.

They stand awkwardly looking at the building pointedly avoiding each other and she finally speaks, "Oh your sweater! Here you go." She says stupidly, not at all what she wanted to say but she starts to pull the sweater off to commit to her exclamation. However he steps back shaking his head at her.

"It's cold. Just wear it upstairs. I'll get it later from Suho, you won't have to see me again. Go up." He sounds deflated, nothing like the animated jokester she'd seen just minutes at his apartment. It aches that she's the one making him act this way.

Then he turns around after looking at her, all of the light drained from his eyes.

He takes three large steps, putting immeasurable space between them in no time and she knows that if she lets him walk away right now he might not come back and that's a gut wrenching thought that makes her chase after him.

Thoughtlessly, she grabs his arm halting his exit from her life.

"Wait!" She shouts, but at the first touch of her hand on his forearm he's already frozen, still in her arms. He doesn't turn around. She shoots him a silent mental thank you, even if it's not his intention it's much easier to say what's on her mind like this without him facing her and her feeling too open and vulnerable. 

"I know you're the one making me food." There was supposed to be a thank you somewhere in there but instead she ends up sounding accusatory, and he tenses instantly his arm tight in her grasp.

"I'll stop. I know you told me to leave you alone. I--just. There's no excuse. I'll stop."

His voice is strained and this is going all wrong already, she's ruining everything.

Letting go of his arm, she sidesteps and brazenly moves directly in front of him. She can't keep hiding from this. She needed to be vulnerable, that was the only way he could understand.

His eyes are wet.

She gasps at the sight, not expecting it and so jealous at his ability to just feel and be seen. She was always hiding from everything. 

"Don't."

He doesn't give her a chance to finish.

"Sujin. Let me go. I know already, I know it all. I can't like you, I shouldn't get my hopes up, I need to mind my business. I know it all!" He shouts, pain marring his face but she notices how he still tugs his arm free gently, still careful about harming her even while he’s breaking down. 

She doesn’t deserve this. 

This is all her fault she knows that to be an objective truth, but the way he throws her own words back at her makes her realize how cruel she'd been while trying to spare him. She hadn't spared anything, the pain in his eyes and voice makes that abundantly clear.

"Don't stop. Don't give up on me." She finishes, staring at him with her own wet eyes, tears prickling at them.

His shoulders sink as he stares at her, lost and hesitant. 

"I'm sorry. I’m sorry for saying those things to you.  I can't promise I won't push you away again. I'm...I'm fucked up Seojun-ah. I'm a fucking mess. But I want to stop, I don't want to push people away."

I don't want to push you away. But she’s still too much of a coward to say that out loud. 

"Sujin, what-what are you trying to say?" He looks at her with guarded eyes, not yet ready to believe the words coming out of her mouth.

"I want to be friends."

She watches him wrestle with her sentence, hurt being covered up by a façade and she's not obtuse, she knows that's not the answer he was hoping for. Knows he thinks she's friend zoning and clipping the wings of his feelings.

"That's all I can deal with right now. I have a lot to work on, I need to work on me." It may seem like a cop out, an excuse but it's the most honest she's ever been with herself, it's not that she doesn't like him she might- if the way her heart thumps when he’s around says anything- but more importantly she has realized that she doesn’t like herself.

"Right now." He repeats in awe, she blinks confused before realizing the implications of her words, she starts sputtering trying to backtrack but he's too quick beating her to the punch.

"I can do friends. For now." She blushes at the beaming smile on his face, his happiness over such a small acquiesce is too much. Why did he have to wear his heart so obviously on his sleeves?

They stand simply staring at each other. Locked in the moment.

She might need to remind her heart that they'd only agreed to be friends.

For now.

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I don't like onions.

She doesn't know what possesses her to text him first, or what compels her to send that particular message. She starts googling if there's a way to unsend messages, instead finding stories from others regaling their own embarrassing messages and finding solace that she isn't alone in this feeling. 

She jumps when her phone vibrates. Slowly turning it over like it's a ticking bomb.

Of course you'd be a picky eater. Onions are good for you.

She rolls her eyes at the message, he was such a nagger.

It's not good if I don't enjoy it.

Alright princess, noted. No more onions. Are you okay with chicken teriyaki tomorrow?

She recalls the delicious chicken teriyaki he'd made for her just days ago, it was succulent and juicy and she'd fought Suho over it, reminding him that this was her food and she replies quickly.

Yes! Do you have more kimchi?

I do. I'll pack some.

She stares at the phone, in disbelief at the how easy it is to talk to him again, like there was an empty spot in her life, a Seojun shaped gap that was now filled once more. She wasn't fixed, she had meant what she told him; she couldn't examine her feelings for him yet. But she needed him in her life, he was there when she needed someone and now no one else would do.

I missed you.

[novantinuum]

Shattering Atlas (a corrupted!Steven one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (TW: depression and body horror)

Words: 4.2K~

Summary: A boy can only carry an entire galaxy upon his back for so long before the weight of it all finally becomes too much.

Folks, here it is! I’m finally finished. AO3 link to be posted in the reblogs.

Disclaimer: This is absolutely far darker and more drastic than I believe canon would EVER tread if this theory had the faintest chance of being anywhere close to the truth, but sometimes you just feel like being super angsty for angst's sake, y'feel? It was an interesting writing experiment nonetheless. Not gonna lie, this is kinda a vent piece. Please do heed those tags. This delves into some difficult territory both mentally and otherwise, as it's written entirely from Steven's POV.

_____

Steven knows he’s messed-up.

It’s not something he tries to advertise to all the sweet, innocent people who somehow after all this time still choose to stand by his side, but he can’t lie to himself. Spending a significant chunk of your childhood actively doubting your own personhood shatters you in ways no amount of unconditional love can ever hope to mend. And sure, he’s not his mom. He knows that. Been there, had the mental breakdown, seen it, done it. The proof’s in his gem half. He knows. But as much as everyone in his life coddles him, gently tries to reassure him while he tirelessly works day and night to realign the foundation of an entire ancient civilization...

“You’re almost an adult now, isn’t that exciting?”

“Don’t worry about the future, the futures I see for you are as limitless as they are bright.”

“Take a break if you need to, ‘kay? You totally deserve one, little man.”

“Y’know, Schtu-ball, the wonderful thing about adulthood is that you can choose to fly wherever the wind takes you!”

...it’s clear none of that matters anyways. Because it’s not true, not for him. Because beyond his identity as a Crystal Gem, beyond that bottomless desire for belonging he’s been chasing all his life, ever since the fateful moment early in his childhood in which he finally realized— small, pudgy hands clutching at the oversized hand-me-down shirt right over the pink hand-me-down gem in his belly— that he isn’t like anyone else and never will be, the truth is that he genuinely doesn’t know what he wants. Who he is.

Everyone else does.

Connie has plans. Hopes, dreams. A future. She’s already thinking about college, and aims on double majoring in political science and environmental science. (A combination only she’s daring enough to pursue, but if anyone’s got the drive to succeed in that it’s her.) Dad’s still manager for Sadie Killer and the Suspects, and they’re going strong. Amethyst has been playing tour guide to all her fellow Prime sisters lately, galavanting with them all around planet Earth. Garnet is currently on the search for terrified cross-fusion Gems still in hiding across the galaxy. Pearl, Bismuth, and a number of the boardies have spearheaded a campaign to help slowly teach and integrate the humans of the Zoo into modern day society. Lapis and Peridot recently built another barn in the outskirts of Little Homeworld, and are enjoying each other’s company.

But him? When all is said and done, as the restructured Gem society stabilizes and soon no one will need him for anything anymore, when Gems and humans alike stop knocking on his metaphoric door with handfuls of their problems for him to drop everything and solve, he has nothing left. He’s no one. No future, no clue. He’s been drained empty.

He’s just drifting through life with the parking break on, continuously waiting— his nerves jittering at every quiet moment— for the next big crisis to crash into his universe and drop feed him even the tinniest shard of purpose.

After all, what is one to do when they’ve spent their entire life training to save the world, but the world has already been saved?

_____

He can’t recall exactly when his current predicament began anymore.

Time’s been hard to keep track of as of late— the days and weeks blending together in an incomprehensible fashion— and yet simultaneously, he might as well have lived a lifetime in the span of the blink of an eye. That being said, he’s pretty sure his most recent gem troubles didn’t truly kick into gear until after the incident with the, erm... cactus monstrosities.

He genuinely didn’t mean to hurt anyone, he didn’t. He only wanted to help... to heal. To try and repair but a shred of the damage Homeworld wrought on this innocent world. It worked when Earth was poisoned, so it should work in the Kindergartens too, right?

Wrong. Very wrong.

His stomach churns as he catches a glimpse of a silly photo of Peridot and himself hanging on the wall by the stairs. A static monument to his shame. Lapis is (still, days later— or is it weeks?) taking care of her gemstone at this very moment, sure, but remembering what happened before that... holding Peridot’s cracked gem in his quivering hands, biting back cries of hopelessness as he ran to the nearest warp pad, escaping from the malformed, hurting creatures born of his own magic... it‘s the kind of horror that he’s sure will linger in his dreams for a long time yet.

It’s like he’s broken. Like his powers just aren’t coming as naturally to him anymore. It’s not quite like that time with the rejuvenator. There’s no sickly glow flickering in and out of existence. No external force acting upon it. No, it’s deeper than that. It’s not a gem sourced problem, it’s him. He’s just... wrong. He’ll try to use his healing ability and it’ll backfire, he’ll summon his bubbles and shields but they’re noticeably less durable, he’ll birth life from his very soul and it’ll grow bitter and corrupt, every bit a mirror of his present mental state. He’ll jump up high in the sky to burn out years of repressed stress in semi-peace and before he can actually do so gravity will grab ahold of him like he’s a petulant, disobedient child and drag him back to the shore. It makes him want to scream, to grind his fingers into the sand so hard his knuckles go white as he sobs out every last one of his stupid, meaningless frustrations, but instead his house is always swarming with people, and his bedroom has no real door, (and he’s too embarrassed to ask for one), and in sum he can never find enough time alone to freely be his genuine messed-up self. It’s fine, though. He doubts he’s capable of crying at this point anyways.

“Dude, you okay?” Amethyst asks with brows furrowed in concern, snapping him back to reality.

His GameStation controller rests precariously in his loose grasp, entirely forgotten in the previous moment. The game they’re playing is paused. He must have blanked out again, and completely ruined their co-op fight. He lets out a shaky breath as he tightens his fingers around the plastic grips, digging into them as if they’re his sole handle on reality.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says swiftly, plastering a smile on his face with the ease of someone who’s been growing adept at this endless charade for months and months. “Didn’t sleep too well last night. Muscle cramps from training, y’know?”

He watches her closely, catalogues every minute shift in her features. Her eyes narrow so slightly that anyone else might’ve missed it. But he doesn’t. He’s observant. He’s gotta be. It’s the only way he’s kept going for this long, the only way he can ensure no one else knows. They don’t need any more worry. Regardless, Amethyst’s lack of subtlety betrays her, because it’s clear she’s searching his expression and body language right back. His chest pounds. Hastily, he holds up the controller, feeling his face go pale under her scrutiny.

Geeze, how pathetic.

No matter how hard he tries to mask it, he‘s already falling apart.

“So... we gonna play another round, or?” Right as he says this, his stomach chooses to let out an inopportune gurgle. He bites at the insides of his cheeks, inwardly cursing at the bad timing.

It’s thankfully enough to divert Amethyst’s attention from... other matters, though.

“Yo. Ste-man. Your stomach’s straight up monologuing. Have you even eaten today?”

He dimly considers this as he tries not to focus on how empty and faint his body currently feels, mind turning to fuzz. “Uhh...”

She frowns, and promptly pulls herself to her feet. “Yeah, so I’m gonna take that as a no. I’ll be right back, ‘kay? Gonna get us some cheese!” she declares bombastically, putting on a mock announcer voice.

He watches her leave his room, prancing downstairs like she doesn’t have a care in the world. A faint huff of sheer relief passes through his nostrils. Absentmindedly, his thumbs jiggle the controller’s joystick, unable to strike the earlier image of Amethyst— concern engulfing her usually carefree self— from his mind. He really should be more careful about what he says. How he acts.

He honestly couldn’t live with himself if he slipped up and became yet another emotionally taxing problem for them to deal with. Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl... all his family, his friends. They deserve peace. They deserve to be satisfied, they deserve their happily ever after. They certainly don’t deserve him, self-destructing all over the bright and shining future they’d won.

Or nearly shattering them.

Putting them in needless danger, danger that’s all his fault, because he’s broken.

His throat grows tight, airway constricted, images of black beady eyes, razor sharp fangs, and malformed limbs invading his thoughts, clawing away at insecurities long scabbed over until they ooze a bitter red. Peridot’s shrill yelp as she’s overtaken in an instant. That dreadful, immediately recognizable sound, a cracking Gem, seared onto his heart for the rest of time.

He... he can’t deny it anymore. His magic’s gone toxic. He’s toxic, bringing suffering and decay where once he brought healing. All his Gem powers are fading, maybe forever. And with them fading, he’ll soon be of no use to anyone, and when they realize why they faded they won’t want him around anyways, and y’know, it’s probably for the better they’ll have a concrete reason to finally push him away. He’s not stupid. He’s always known what an emotionally taxing strain he’s been on everyone, ever since the day Mom died for him to be born.

Steven grips the controller so hard that his fingers grow numb, mind stewing in the dark fantasies of what he’d like to do with himself when he’s left behind for good.

And then... his heart leaps in his throat as he dimly hears Amethyst begin to whisper to the others (they’re back? They’re back?? When did they return, why didn’t you notice them, how could you just miss—) downstairs.

“Y’guys,” he hears her say frantically, under her breath, “I think we really gotta talk with Steven. Something’s seriously wrong, and he won’t tell me what.”

“What, you mean to say he’s in danger? Garnet, do you see anything?”

“Hmm. I don’t foresee any external threats to Steven’s safety in the near future, but...”

“Amethyst, he’s clearly still upset about Peridot. And once she reforms in a few days, when she’s ready, he’ll be fine! Trust me.“

“No, trust me, I genuinely think this is more than just Peridot! It’s getting me super worried. He hasn’t been eating like he should, y’guys. I don’t think he’s showered in days. Sometimes it’s like he’s... I dunno, like, he isn’t even fully present. And y’know, thinking about it now? It’s been like this for a while. Since before all the cactus stuff.”

“Well, if he doesn’t want to talk about it, I’m not sure how we could—“

“We need to call Greg over,” Garnet interrupts Pearl, a new, thinly veiled panic rising in her voice. “Right now.”

His eyes stretch open wide.

Oh.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no... Not here, not now, not— please, not now!

His breath hastens, his body outright shaking now. He curls tight into himself, the game controller dropping from his slackened fingers onto the floor as he clutches his knees to his chest. Sweat beads in droplets on his forehead. He outright yanks at his hair.

Amethyst, she can’t just waltz downstairs and!—

I don’t want to—

Peridot, getting cracked, I- it’s all my fault and she didn’t—

I- all of this- I’m so useless, careless, l- I’m losing my mind, what’s even wrong- why are you panicking!- I don’t—

T-they can’t know, they can’t know, they CAN’T—

He can’t fully bite back his cries as his gem flares burning hot, a rush of pure, unadulterated agony spiking through his hard light veins in an indescribably eternal split-second, the very experience of hypocrisy. Every single muscle in his body seizes. His ears ring, filled with a cacophonous clamor of sound that slashes through his mind with the deadly force of a long blade. Crippling. Debilitating. All-consuming. Hell. This is hell. Because then his head is pounding, and his limbs are all weak and shaky, and for a moment he’s bathed in a faint wash of pink, the glow enveloping him like his own corona of sickness as he succumbs to the pain he’s sequestered inside, bitterly festering for all these years.

Hell eventually recedes, both its note and its physical touch, but the dark clouds looming over his mind do not. Slowly, he loosens his grip on his curls, trying desperately to bring balance to his breathing. His ears are still ringing. His head is still cotton. Questions abound. For instance: what on Earth was that?? Stars, is something else wrong with his gem now, too? Thoroughly disorientated, he yanks up the hem of his shirt.

“Steven?!” Pearl calls frantically from downstairs, right as his trembling fingers gently trace the exposed facets of his gem. “Are you okay up there?”

He squints, features compressing in his sheer confusion. Visually, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. No imperfections, no flickering light, nothing. So then what’s—

“Hey, Steven? Yo?? You, uh- maybe wanna come eat downstairs, or?”

A shudder runs clear through his form, starting from his gem and coursing outwards to the furthest extremities. He grits his teeth as he rides through the stabbing discomfort, clutching at his stomach. It’s like he’s about to vomit. Sure, so maybe he was really hungry before, and maybe that has a little to do with what he’s experiencing now, but... this... still doesn’t feel right. Spots swim in his vision as he glances down again.

And that’s when he sees it, slowly creeping across the skin of his bare forearm as clear as day.

It’s a patch of dull, pinkish hide. Not human skin, hide. He runs his index finger along its perimeter, all of reality screeching to a halt as his brain performs somersaults in a desperate last-ditch attempt to contextualize the information his eyes are sending him right now.

“What?” he whispers in disbelief, (even though he has a few terrifying theories), frantic heartbeat pounding in his ears like a drum.

“I’m checking on him,” Garnet says, just loud enough that he knows for certain she intends him to hear. Solid footsteps creep across the floorboards, advancing towards the foot of the stairs.

It’s frankly impressive how fast a single stimulus can turn panic to outright paranoia.

He almost trips over himself diving to retrieve his jacket off the floor, forcing his arms through the sleeves faster than any of the Gems could ever summon their weapons. Hide it. Hide it away. They can’t see you, they can’t know you’re corru- NO! Stop.

Bathroom. He needs to get to the bathroom.

His bare feet solidly connect with the floor, toes curling inwards as he shudders again. A pulsing ache settles into the bones of his skull. Then a prickle at his neck. Reflexively, he slaps his hand against the affected locale. There’s another spot steadily growing there.

Alone, NOW.

The whole world’s spinning as he turns on his heels and flies across the length of his bedroom— sprinting past the TV, shoving past Garnet, who’s already halfway up the open stairwell, and leaping clear over the couch from midway down the last set of steps. (Everyone’s shouting in blind panic as he enters their sight. Fear. Needless, unwanted worry. Calling his name, calling for peace, but his ears are still ringing and their voices are overlapping and he can’t distinguish any of it.) When he reaches the bathroom his hand grips the knob so hard that the metal almost crumples under his force, and he swings himself through the doorway, slams it shut, and turns the lock with pink-splotched fingers faster than any one of the Gems can move to stop him.

For a split moment, things are okay. He’s alone. Moreover, he’s safe.

(But are you really?)

His head is pounding again, the pulsing at his temples soon coalescing into a constant inescapable misery. Letting his eyes flutter shut, he lets his forehead lull against the door. Flexes his knuckles, imagines the splotches disappearing from sight as easily as eye bags under makeup. He tries to calm his breathing in the meditative way Garnet once showed him. In for four counts... and out. In... and out. Come on, just ride it out, Universe. You’re a Gem- a diamond, for cripe’s sake! Control it. Conceal. Move on.

“Steven?!” Amethyst calls from outside. “Please talk to us, what’s goin’ on?”

"Whatever it is, you don't have to be alone!" Pearl adds. He doesn't even have to see her face to know that she's crying.

A renewed burst of panic spikes through his veins at this realization.

“Stop worrying about me, I’m fine!” he bites back on impulse.

“No, you’re NOT!” Amethyst hollers, and then... after a thoughtful pause, her tone softening: “I- I know you’re not.”

He stares down at his hands, brows threading together, watching as the patch of hide continues to inch across his skin. The genuine concern interlaced in every syllable of her speech is enough to make his gut churn with guilt.

“Steven, I... stars, I know you probably overheard me talking to everyone jus’ a second ago, and I know I probably betrayed every scrap of trust we ever had ‘coz of that, and I wanna say I’m sorry, but I can’t just stand aside and watch you treat yourself like garbage. Please, the door’s jammed. Let us in. We just wanna help!”

His lip quivers, despite himself. “I don’t need any help!” he insists, stubbornly pushing past the crack in his voice. “I’m just—“

He’s interrupted by a rush of crippling agony radiating upwards from his gem once more, the ache at either side of his head intensifying into three points. Hands rush to the site on automatic. Fingers grasping, searching. Discovering.

There’s something growing at his temples, he realizes with a rush of horror. Something hard, faceted. Disturbingly cold to the touch.

There’s no way to bite back his screams as the growths fully protrude, none at all, even with his mouth clamped shut, and even though he can’t see them he can sense their weight as they wind upwards and back, up and out of his curls, and he’s shaking, oh stars is he shaking, chest heaving up and down so hard he’s not sure he’ll ever be free of these awful tremors ever again, and— A hoarse sob forces its way to the surface as a third growth crowns his forehead. Trembling fingers scrape down the length of the door as he collapses to his knees, nails sharpening into gnarled talons as they sink further and further into the wood, carving through it like butter. He clenches his jaw back together so hard that with any greater pressure he might shatter his own teeth.

Still quite woozy under the threat of hyperventilation, he slowly turns his head. Extricates those dreadful claws from the door. Dares himself to look. Forcing himself back up to his feet, he gazes deep into the depths of the mirror. And as the creature trapped on the other side stares back through sickeningly pink irises— blotches of color steadily creeping up their jawline and across their cheek, inching to meet the base of those glistening crystalline horns— all known reality shatters into smithereens.

Not me, not me, not me, is the mantra he chants to himself like a prayer, stubbornly clinging to any vestige of normalcy as if this is all but a vivid nightmare he can stir awake from.

(As if deep down, a tiny, beaten-down part of himself still wants to believe he deserves a future too.)

But the darkness reflected in that mirror is following his every jerky, erratic movement as all the despair and guilt and self-hatred festering within continues to consume him like a matchstick to fire.

Not real. It’s not real! I don’t need help. I don’t need the Gems, they don’t need to know, I’m fine, I’m FINE, this isn’t corru - NO, DON’T THINK ABOUT IT! YOU CAN’T—

They’re yelling outside. Arguing, probably. (And true to form, Pearl‘s cries are the shrillest.) But he can’t be certain of anything anymore while smothered under the fog’s thickening surface, with the rest of the world relegated to mere static and stimuli. Not a word, not a clue. No way to know if it’s an argument about him or with him.

And in his mind their distress stands as yet another sign. Just another slice of proof that they truly are at their happiest without him, that his continued existence only serves as a complication. He can’t deny it anymore. He can’t lie, can’t tiptoe around the inevitable truth; like this, he’s nothing but a liability. A ticking time bomb, set to shatter everything and everyone in his path. Shaking like a leaf, he unfurls his fists, watching as the dull pink hide overtakes the last clear patches of flesh upon his misshapen, monstrous fingers.

They’re better off without you.

The passing seconds cease to exist as he convulses again, this time centralized at the base of the spinal column. He doubles over, leans into the pain. Rides it through vertebrae by vertebrae, raking his claws deep into the wood floor as a fifth limb emerges from where the spine left off, steadily lengthening— fortifying itself with jagged crystalline spikes as it grows ever longer. Its weight is entirely foreign, yet it shifts upon his slightest command. Panic overruling all logic once more, he thrashes about, the tail swinging across the bathroom counter like a whip. His toothbrush, comb, and other various toiletries he hasn't made use of in days clatter to the floor, abandoned.

R u n.

The thought rampages through his shattered soul like an avalanche. Yanks him by the horns. Consumes his mind and body like a trance. He has to escape from here, from the house, the Gems, has to run quick, before it’s too late and you can’t do anything more but wordlessly scream.

He doesn’t stop to question this impulse. Doesn’t stop to peer at that poor tortured creature in the mirror again. For a moment his claws struggle to grasp the crumpled door knob, fumbling in failure’s wake.

When he finally forces the door open, the whole world holds its breath.

Pearl’s eyes blow wide upon the no-doubt horrifying sight. Her hands fly to her mouth. “Steven?!”

Even Amethyst reacts in an adverse manner, stepping back towards the support of the wall. “Holy...” she breathes, face paling.

And just knowing he’s out here now, every gnarled, nightmarish feature exposed in front of his family like a raw nerve, makes his blotchy, spot-covered skin crawl.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME, I’m FINE!” he hollers as he sprints to the warp pad, barbed tail whipping wildly behind him. Pearl yelps in alarm as she only barely dodges its mace-like swing. Unable to hold back his sobs anymore, he collapses to his knees on the hard crystal. Coils his tail around himself by sheer instinct. Hides his face away behind arms. Hot tears spill from his eyes, vision blurring and sharpening in rhythm to the unbearable ache pounding in his head. “I’m fine,” he whispers pathetically, voice catching.

He can practically feel the vibrations through the floor as someone approaches. It’s Garnet. He doesn’t know how he knows, but it can only be her. His breath hastens against his better wishes. Can’t stop, won’t stop, can’t stop... The vision of the temple door begins to pirouette in dizzy circles around him as he arches his back, and with a sharp gasp feels something tear its way through his shirt and jacket right above his spine, all jagged and spiked and— NO! He grinds his jaw together, shrinking further into himself. Not real. It’s not real, not real, not—

“Steven,” she says in a measured tone as he heaves for air. (No, with hesitation. Fear. She’s hesitating because she’s afraid of you, she’s afraid because you’re a monster NO.) “I know you’re hurting, but I need you to take a deep breath with me, and try to calm down. Please, let us help you...”

A heart wrenchingly familiar hand reaches out to him, adorned by a ruby gem and a golden wedding band. His fingers clamp around thick, greasy curls, brushing against the horns protruding from his temples. A keening cry slips out from his mouth against his better wishes. They want to help. They only want to help...

He peeks at her through the crook of his arm, his most likely reddened, blotchy eyes meeting hers. She’s taken off her visor. She’s crying too.

For a glimmer of a second, he considers reaching out. Taking her offered hand with his own clawed one. But then...

Haven’t you been a burden enough already?

His face screws up, and his hands clench into fists.

“NO,” he shouts, slamming them down upon the warp pad. It activates, (blessedly still accessible at this early stage of corruption NO don’t think about it!!), glowing a bright cyan as he envisions where he wants to go: no particular destination in his mind but away, away, away.

After all, he already knows he’s a monster.

So... he might as well become one too.

_____

Notes:

Some days you just gotta have an entire mental breakdown and go full wyrm, y'hear?

HCs I tapped into for this fic:

After being healed, formerly cracked Gems take longer to reform than Gems who were only poofed. Peridot will be okay eventually, she just hasn’t reformed quite yet.

Steven is still able to warp because he hasn’t quite passed the threshold of corruption that prevents a Gem from accessing the warp stream. I imagine it's very much a matter of mental connection, and having the right presence of mind to tap into it. Probably a few minutes after this, if Steven were to continue going downhill and his mind fully fell into the fog of corruption, he’d no longer be able to warp. He got super lucky here.

This potential future blindsided Garnet because previously- like how Steven’s newfound maturity threw her off as discussed in Pool Hopping- she hadn’t factored in the idea of Steven being in such a low mental state. Amethyst was the first to really see past his attempts to mask it because she personally had dealt with depression like this before and knew what it looked like.

Maybe one day after SUF airs I'll write more on this topic, but as for now this will remain a one-shot. I 100% imagine Steven would ultimately be okay in this timeline, though. They'd be able to help him, stop the corruption. Steven goes to heckin' therapy. He'll live on, he'll begin to recover and cope. But that's a whole 'nother story.

Thank you for reading!

[travellvogue]

The Gaffers Daughter, Returns

Chapter 5- Bitter Pill

A prideful cocky smirk as he inspects his token of honour- your red lacy thong flung to his bedroom floor…

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

“Bro you can’t just leave us like that” Mason whines, Declan’s hand on the table slapping it impatiently, “Being a sneaky lil shit aint ya” Dec smirks, already telling by the young boys face that he had more to say than what he told them. But a simple shrug was all they got, a smug flutter of the eyes as he kisses his teeth, fiddling with his room key, fingers tracing over the number ‘62’ printed on the front. “Nah, you aint getting nothing out of me” Jadon smirks, already got the two boys hooked and reeled in, eyes anticipating his next words, nosiness getting the best of him. Mason felt a bit guilty for being so intrusive, he’d seen you as a good friend over this past few weeks of getting to know you, but he didn’t know you were capable of sleeping with one of his mates.

“Cmonnnn… you’ve already told us she was in ya room, I don’t expect by the look on your face that you were playing monopoly together” Declan nudges him, Jadon shaking his head but already getting his words ready in his mind, loving the buzz off attention the two lads were giving him, almost like a validation pass- lad points. “Well…” he teases, the three of them making their way to the cloakroom, sitting on the bench as they put their boots on, a few of the boys walking past as they grab their vests and boots. “It was… fun” Jadon laughs at his own taunting, the boys groaning as they try to irk something out of him. “Nah nah nah, all I’m saying is there weren’t a lot of clothes involved innit” he held his hands up as he stood up and checked his boots were on properly, a little school-boy blush on his cheeks as Mase and Dec cheered and hollered, finally getting the confirmation of last night’s events from the man himself. Watching Jadon run off outside to the pitch with a smug swagger in his step, the thrill of letting someone know what the two of you had got up to last night giving him a nice little ego boost.

But it was a kick in the teeth for someone else, a bitter pill to swallow, the sad brown eyes watching him run off, losing track in what he was doing as he looks down at his half-tied orange boots. Shaky hands coming to tie the knots, his tummy feeling the same metaphorical knotting, the lump in his throat hard to swallow as Jadon’s words repeat in his mind, ‘weren’t a lot of clothes’, ‘it was...fun’. Trying to refocus himself as he tries to search for a memory- desperate for some type of memory of you, a warm, welcoming, comforting one. But nothing. For every thought of you hurt, that smile that was never for him, that ‘I love you’ which held no emotional connection, those eyes that would never look at him the same way he looks at you. 

That was the hardest thing to admit.

He was in love, a love that ached.

He couldn’t even bring himself close to Jadon on the pitch, defensively poor as he lets him slip past him, screams and shouts from the team as he lets him concede another goal. A sickening wink from the Londoner, like he knew exactly why he was playing right. 

Bt what hurt the most was the sight of you, sat innocently on the sofa in the games room, chess board in front of you as you smile at him, seeing him walk into the room and look right at you. Right through you.

“Hi” your voice is a weak whisper, the shy little smile he’d usually give you nowhere to be found. “Trent?” you frown, the scouser still stood statue-still in front of you, an emptiness in his eyes, coming from his heart. His nausea swirled recklessly in his empty stomach, the sound of his name falling from your lips was like nails on a chalkboard. A sound he’d begged to hear for months now one he could stand- his name wasn’t what you were moaning last night, his heart wasn’t what you were considering when you laid on that bed. 

“Tell me” he mumbles, harsh tone causing your eyebrows to raise as you watch him, “Y/N please” he sighs, dropping to his knees at this very moment wouldn’t be insufficient, but he stood still, for it was his heart that was crumbling to the ground.  “Tell you what, Trent?” your back straightens. “Why? Why did you break up with Ruben? Why did you come back here? To break me a little more? To strut around and open your legs agai-” he stopped himself, knowing he took it too far. You sigh, patting the sofa next to you, kind of surprised when he actually comes to sit with you, “Is that why you came back?” his tone is more gentle this time, clearly referring to Jadon, his eyes watching you intently as you sign and fiddle with the sleeve of your top. “I came back, as a- a distraction” to say it out loud was weird, the past few weeks such a blur for you, something in your mind thinking that maybe-just maybe, if you were surrounded by your mates and your dad, that your heart would heal a little quicker. But here you were, craving the same touch Ruben once gave you, trying to find comfort by crawling into Jadon’s arms, but the whole time you were looking in the wrong direction. Since the quiet boy who loved you dearly had hardly looked your way since your arrival, a fear of rejection once again, the ‘just friends’ label still printed on his heart. “A distraction from what? Ruben? Was one footballer not enough for you?” his words were harsh but with genuine intentions, watching your eyes drop in a sudden realisation that your actions didn’t give you the best reputation. “Ruben thought I was coming back here for you” you told him gently, his lost expression now matching yours. It was like a match had flickered alive in his soul, what if you did come back for him? What if he finally got to hear those three words again? “We broke up… because of you Trent” it was hard to say, for he was solely the reason, but the tinge of jealousy and doubt in Ruben’s mind led to the final straw, the straw that broke the camel’s back. “I didn’t know what I wanted, it was all a bit of a mes-” his breath interrupted you, as if his lungs were tightening within his rib cage, “So I was the reason for your breakup?” Trent just has to double-check the information you’re throwing at him, feeling responsible for your heart ache, knowing how it felt to be hurt by someone you love so dearly. He already knew the answer he would receive, so that’s why he asked the second question, one he truly didn’t need to know, but in a way he already knew. The verge of tears looming towards him. “Is that why you don’t love me?” voice weak and hoarse, studying your expression with such care. One shake of the head, he could take that either way. “No…” you whisper, “...I-” your words seemed to drag on forever, forehead starting to ache with the consistent frowning. “I- I love someone else”

[daisyquakes]

Gives You Hell || Discord

summary: Robbie takes it upon himself to break Daisy out of the Raft. But they see something unexpected on their way out that neither of them can let sit. trigger warnings: death mention, murder mention, suicidal ideations, mentions of torture, and general mentions of grief, depression, anxiety -- it’s dark and everyone is sad featuring: @vengeancedemons​

DAISY: There was a part of Daisy that wondered if the Ice Box would have been a kinder place to be hidden away inside. But there... there they had experimented on people like Daisy. Inhumans. Made them stronger - tried to weaponize them - but Dasiy was at the point of her isolation where she would have been happy to see anyone. Even a doctor with a blade in their hand and a devilish look in their eyes, just someone who would speak to her. But in the Raft, there were two guards that were posted at the end of the hall, watching the others like her that were in isolation. Ready to jump into action if anything ever happened.

Not that it did.

The only thing that ever happened was when they whispered to each other, and their incoherent words bounced around the otherwise empty space.

She had a moment with Matt and one with Alex... but since then? She had been on her own. Restrained in a straightjacket and left to sit in a room with nothing. No chair, no toilet, no sink. Three walls and the fourth made out of bars. And her only constant companion. Silence. (She wished she could hear the water currents running against the exterior, but Daisy was sure that she was in the center of the facility. There was no chance for Daisy to lose herself to white noise.)

Alex had told her that she’d get her out of here - that Daisy would be back on the outside but that it would take time, and Daisy didn’t know how much of that she had. Or how much of it had passed. (It felt like time passed differently inside the Raft... or maybe not at all.) Patience was hard when you were turned so far around that you weren’t sure what side of the planet you were on anymore.

tucked into the corner of her cell, Daisy stretched out her legs and tipped her head back, gazing off towards the other corner of her cell. A blank wall. Wondering if now was the time to start praying to the God she had turned her back on years ago - wondering if she could ask for anything after all this time.

ROBBIE: It would surprise no one to know that Hell brought with it no shortage of nightmares. Some nights, Robbie didn’t sleep at all. He lay in his bed for hours with screams still echoing in his ears, roamed the streets with the heat of phantom flames still biting the air behind him. What some people didn’t expect, however, was that Hell wasn’t the only thing that haunted him. Hell wasn’t the only thing marring his sleep, and his memories of fire and brimstone weren’t the only ones keeping him up at night. There was more to it than that.

Mostly, there was Eli.

A lot of moments with his uncle followed him around but, more often than not, it was the end that made his breaths come in short gasps, the last part that made his heart pound. Robbie’s mind went back to that last conversation, to the carbon spike through his chest and the madness in Eli’s eyes. Why’d you do it? He’d asked, wanting desperately to understand. Become a killer? And Eli, god, Eli hadn’t missed a beat. Well, I guess it runs in the family.

Eli Morrow tore Robbie’s life to shreds. His mistakes left one of his nephews in a wheelchair, the other dead on the concrete and damned to Hell. He’d ripped apart every piece of Robbie’s life that mattered, left him in shambles.

And it was, at the end of the day, a habit that ran in the family.

He’d been sloppy. That was all there was to it. He’d showed up at Daisy’s place drunk and stupid, begged her to take him to his Charger so he could steal it back. He’d been so desperate to regain that last piece of his uncle that he hadn’t wondered whether he might turn himself into Eli in the process. One mistake, and that was it. That was all it took. Robbie tore Daisy’s life to shreds with one mistake. And now, it was on him to fix it.

The moment he heard about her imprisonment, the moment he showed up to her apartment after those unanswered texts to hear her neighbor chattering about how they arrested the freak, took her to where she belongs, no doubt, Robbie began planning. He refused to be the man who raised him, refused to let this be just another of the awful things coursing through his veins. When Robbie tore someone’s life apart, when his actions resulted in someone innocent losing everything, he was going to make an effort to fix it. Even if he had to walk through Hell to do it.

God, he wished that was a fucking metaphor.

It was something he’d learned in his travels, something he’d discovered in researching how to get back to Earth. Time wasn’t the only thing that moved differently between dimensions --- space did, too. One step in Hell might mean a thousand on Earth. You could pop in in one place and pop out in another.

You could enter a portal in your shitty apartment and exit it in the Raft.

It wasn’t a perfect plan by any stretch of the imagination, and it took time to get it right. Robbie spent hours in his apartment figuring out exactly where he’d need to go, looking at coordinates and scouring shady internet messaging boards. He used his insomnia to his advantage, didn’t sleep for his own reasons. A tendency towards murder, as it turned out, wasn’t the only quality Robbie had inherited from his uncle. When he put his mind to it, when he really focused, he could tap into Eli’s smarts, too. He could plot the world’s most dangerous goddamn prison heist in a few days.

(And he knew a few days might still be too long. He knew that stories of the Raft painted it as the sort of place where minds were lost in hours. He knew that. He was just trying not to think of it.)

Getting the Rider to agree was difficult… but not as hard as it would have been if it were anyone but Daisy on the line. The Devil had always had something of a soft spot for her, and with the two of them working together, Robbie found himself stepping out of his portal just inside the door to her cell. He stepped into the cramped space on shaky legs, swallowing as he tried to put on the mask of a man who hadn’t walked through Hell to get there. Glancing down at her, he clenched his jaw and tried not to explode at the sight. She hadn’t been treated well, that much was clear. Robbie wanted nothing more than to walk out of this cell and kill every goddamn guard in this place, and he didn’t think the Rider would stop him. But… They had to go. If they wanted to make it out without him landing in a cell identical to this one, they had to go.

“You look like shit,” he greeted. “Wanna head out?”

DAISY: There was that crackling in the air again. That familiar sound that came with a smell of burning in the air - one that she had only smelt twice before. When Robbie was dragging his uncle to hell, and that day when he finally came back. It had the same smell in the air and Daisy could feel her heartbeat pick up with hope.

But it was short-lived.

Because as soon as Daisy’s brain started to process the expression on Robbie’s face, the familiar clench of his jaw - the way he looked as if he was about to tear apart a person with his bare hands. It was a look she had seen in his eyes before, and Daisy was over the ledge of delirium. So, she laughed. Of all the people she could hallucinate. Robbie.

“You know,” Daisy started, as the laughter finally subsided. “I expected to see Coulson, you know?” But saying his name caused her heart to ache immediately. (And what Daisy would give to hear some parting words of advice from Coulson?) Her eyes had locked into her hallucinations and she could feel her eyes burning. She wanted to ask him why he was there, why, out of everyone, he was the person she was losing her mind about.

Had she really gone so long without food and water? Would they leave her like this? Imagining people she cared about, stumbling into her cell, with some misguided hope to save her? Robbie told her she looked like shit and Daisy couldn’t help but smirk. “Sorry, Reyes, they confiscated my makeup -- if I knew I had a hot date coming, I would have at least brushed my hair. Now... get lost.” Daisy moved her leg and kicked Robbie.

Only... her leg made contact.

Her leg made contact.

Daisy leaned forward, her head tipping so she could look up at him. “You’re really here.” She tried to catch her breath, wanting to latch onto some sort of humor and pretend that she wasn’t completely fucked up - but she couldn't. She looked at Robbie, her mouth was slightly open while she processed the fact he was actually there. “Get me the fuck out of here.”

ROBBIE: For a moment, a fraction of a heartbeat, there was almost a smile on her face. Robbie wasn’t used to people looking happy to see him, particularly not when he showed up like this, with the smell of burning air and smoke following in his wake, but Daisy wasn’t most people. And, shit, Robbie wasn’t exactly his usual self around her. Typically, Ghost Rider reared his ugly head to send people into Hell. He was the last thing they saw before fire and brimstone took them over completely, the last face they saw on the right side of the grave. But Daisy was different. Daisy was always different.

At least, Robbie thought she was. But then that smile was slipping from her face and, suddenly, he wasn’t so sure.

Did she hate him for landing her in here? He wasn’t sure he’d be able to blame her if she did. It was his fault, after all, his selfish demands that launched her from the government’s nice list to the world’s most secure super prison in a matter of hours. Robbie’d been in Hell for years now, and in that time, Daisy seemed to have made out all right. She’d been alive when he came back. She’d been free. A few days of him back in her life, and she was here. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.

She spoke, and Robbie’s brow furrowed, confusion clear on his face. “I expected to see Coulson, you know?” It took a moment for the realization to strike, took a beat for his mind to catch up to the situation.

Hallucinations were fairly common in Hell. Robbie had seen them often, either in the form of people he wanted to see, like Gabe or Daisy, or in the form of people he wanted to avoid, like Eli or Santino Noguera. He’d never stopped to think that the conditions here were dangerously close to the ones some people faced in Hell, never paused to consider just how thoroughly isolation could torture someone. Guilt washed over him in droves, and he pushed it away quickly. There’d be time to hate himself later. There always was.

Her foot made contact with his leg, and it was her turn to get that burst of realization. He noted the way her eyes widened, the way that flicker of hope was back and, selfishly, he was relieved for it. She didn’t hate him. For the moment, at least, she didn’t hate him. Maybe it was only because he was her ride, maybe she’d find time to be pissed at him the moment they landed back in New York, but it still felt good.

“I’m really here,” he confirmed with a curt nod. “And I’m really hoping you haven’t lost it completely, ‘cause the next part of this field trip’s really gonna suck if you check out on me.” He offered her a hand, ready to pull her to her feet. “We’re gonna get you out of that fucking jacket, Johnson, and then we’re gone. Won’t be much sightseeing on the way out. My shortcut doesn’t exactly come with a scenic route.” He nodded back to the portal still open behind him, Hell staring back at them both from within the circle. He doubted she’d like the ride, but the destination was definitely better than this shithole. And it was temporary. It was a few minutes at the most, and they’d be free. They’d be out. Robbie reminded himself of that over and over, desperate to calm his racing heart.

DAISY: The diet they had her on, Daisy knew that they were trying to control her more than just with the collar. The proportions, the choices, it was all to keep her body and her mind weak, so that just in case the collar failed, she’d still be docile. But how long had she been in here? Daisy didn’t know - and without knowing how many days had passed, she didn’t know how weak her muscles would be.

She wasn’t entirely sure what to tell him. Sorry that she thought he wasn’t really there? Or confess that it wouldn’t have been her first hallucination inside the Raft? It was one of those things that no matter how flippant Daisy wanted to be about it, it twisted her insides. She bit down on her tongue and tipped her head downward, hoping he wouldn’t notice the look in her eyes or call her out on how casually she talked to him like she had spoken to hallucinations before.

Maybe he was waiting until they were out of here - maybe he’d confront her about what she had been seeing on the other side of that portal... but she was thankful for the time to settle her mind. “I didn’t think---” Daisy cleared her throat and shook her head. “Alex said it’d take time. I would have told her not to worry about it if I knew that you were planning a jailbreak.” Not that Robbie had any way of letting her know he was on his way - it wasn’t like she could track him on her phone like Uber.

Robbie stretched out his hand and Daisy glanced up, shifting so that he could grab her arm easily. Her hands weren’t exactly an option considering the way the jacket was wrapped up. “I mean, I’m trusting you to navigate me through a hellscape and take me back to the real world - and -- really? We can’t do a direct flight?” Daisy quipped before turning so that he could undo the buckles on the back of the jacket. “Have to lose it a little to think a route through hell is the best way to travel.”

Joking was all she could do to try and tame the pounding in her chest. Her eyes darting towards the guards who were already on the radio, watching them - but thankfully, they had only seen Robbie from behind, and with any luck, the camera wouldn’t have caught his face either. (She’d double-check once she was on the outside. Brush off her hacking skills to protect Robbie from the consequences of his stupid choice to try and save her.)

“Hurry.” She urged. Daisy took a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder at Robbie, “And please tell me... we’re not going to spend two years in there.”

ROBBIE: She wasn’t all there, though Robbie wasn’t sure if it was drugs, malnourishment, or the collar around her neck making her feel off. It could have had less to do with her and more to do with their surroundings, too, of course. Hell raged to his side, the portal wild and chaotic and, above all else, impatient. Hell didn’t like to be kept waiting. Behind him, too, there was Hell. Robbie didn’t know what went on within the walls of the Raft, didn’t know what sort of punishments they designed for those deemed dangerous enough to be imprisoned within it, but he knew it was bad. The Rider was stirring within him at that sense of desperation in the air. This is Hell, he was saying. This is Hell, too. Hell is mine, Reyes, you know it is. Robbie clenched his jaw, pushed the Devil down, and turned his attention back to Daisy. It wouldn’t be so easy once they stepped foot inside that portal but for now, they were still in Robbie’s world. Barely, but still.

She looked a little better than she had a moment ago, a little more settled. Maybe it was the knowledge that she was getting out, the fact that she’d soon be as free as a person could be with the United States government on their ass. Still… She didn’t look great. She’d still thought he wasn’t real, still looked prepared to fall over at any moment. Part of him wanted to squat down beside her, wanted to kneel at her side and take her face in his hands and look her in the eyes, to make sure she knew she was safe. Another part wanted to tear his way through the wall of bars behind him, to tear apart the guards outside, the ones on the other end of the radios they were speaking into, the ones in the cushy offices with the big paychecks coming in every month, every goddamn person in this hellhole. In the end, he did neither because neither would help her in the moment. Neither would get her out of that goddamn jacket faster.

He swallowed, throat dry and aching as he shook his head slightly. “Fuck time,” he said quickly, because he knew time wasn’t feasible. If you left someone in a place like this, took time to get them out through the legal channels, they wouldn’t come back the same. Robbie knew firsthand what it felt like to take your time clawing your way out of Hell. He knew from personal experience just how broken it left you. “I don’t know who Alex is, what she’s got planned, but fuck time. We’re leaving now. Okay?” He hoped she didn’t say no, hoped she didn’t ask him to leave her there. It would be a painfully Daisy thing to do, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stomach it. If she told him to leave him, he’d try to convince her until those bars came down, until those guards came in, until they tested their strength out on him. He’d already walked through Hell to get to her. It wouldn’t be much harder to stick around in it, if he had to. At least then she wouldn’t be here alone.

She shifted, and Robbie pulled her to his feet as quickly as he could, making short work of the straps on the straight jacket. He eyed the collar for a moment, but he could hear the crackling of the radio behind them and he knew they didn’t have time to deal with it here. “Yeah, well, if you don’t like the transportation I can always look for another flight. Just, you know, might take time. And I don’t think either of us want to spend a layover here.” He kept his voice light, but there was a tightness to it, too, a discomfort he couldn’t hide. They were both good at this, both skilled in telling stupid jokes while the goddamn world fell apart, but fuck, it wasn’t easy now. Nothing was easy now, not with most of his energy split between keeping the portal open and keeping the Rider at bay. “Plenty of people’d kill for a first class trip through the Underworld, you know.”

Behind him, he heard boots on the ground, and he knew they were out of time. It was now or never, this Hell or that one. Daisy told him to hurry, and Robbie nodded. “We’ll take care of the dog tags when we get settled,” he told her, taking her arm and leading her quickly into the portal. He caught sight of a guard entering the cell behind him, positioned himself between the portal and Daisy as the bullets flew in after them. The gate closed before anyone could follow, and Robbie sighed, letting out a groan as his lungs reinflated. “Stings like a bitch every goddamn time,” he muttered, rolling his shoulders with a grimace. Two shots landed. Not the worst show of resistance he’d ever faced. He could feel the Rider thrashing against the proverbial walls, desperate to get out of his cell now that Daisy was free of hers. “Uh, yeah,” he said, turning his attention back to Daisy. “I’ll do my best there, Johnson.” He grimaced again, shaking his head. “Look, I --- I’m not sure how long I can keep the other guy down. He gets out and I might not get out of here, but you will. Me and him have an understanding there.” Robbie shook his head again, taking a step forward. “Come on. New York’s this way.”

DAISY: Robbie knew the risk of coming here to break her out. He knew that if he wasn’t careful that there would be a cost - he had to know. Because Daisy’s faith in him in this moment hinged on her assuming that he understood what he was doing was dangerous and stupid and could harm everyone around them. If they got a good picture of his face, it wasn’t just Daisy and Robbie that would be in trouble, it would be every person they had wrapped their arms around. Every person that they looked at with even a hint of fondness in their eyes.

Neither of them had many people. Their families were limited - Robbie had Gabe and Gabe still thought Robbie was dead and Daisy... she had Matt (another person who had returned from the dead only for Daisy to find a way of fucking things up). But that bonded them, that burning feeling to protect the ones they did care about - and both of them were willing to walk through hell or take a bullet for the people they cared about. Robbie might not have been the hero type, but he was enough like Daisy for her to recognize it. The recklessness, the running headfirst into the fire, the Rider might not have given two shits about what happened to her.

But Robbie Reyes did.

And after all the shit she had dragged him through... he could have left her there. He could have shrugged off her being in the Raft and settled on it being someone else’s problem - he could have left Daisy to suffer the consequences on her own. But he didn’t. Not that Daisy would have blamed him for leaving her to the wolves - he had people to take care of himself, after all. (Him being there… it meant something. Even if it was unsaid, even if neither of them looked at each other and said that it, it was something.) “Fuck time,” Daisy repeated in a murmur. “Yeah... we’re going now.” Repeating his words, letting them echo in the space around them a second time - made them feel more real for her. Alex might have been able to clear Daisy’s name if given time, but as disoriented as Daisy was now, she wasn’t sure who she’d be once Alex sorted everything out. Daisy wanted to think that she could resist it, that she’d be the same at the end of it… but she knew better. Every mission she had gone on had left a deep scar across her psyche, why would the Raft be any different?

Space had taken so much from her. The Framework. Every other mission she had followed Coulson and her team on – it all took something. It was a miracle that there was any Daisy left to salvage. There was a very real possibility that it was Daisy that gave up on herself long before anyone else did... but in this case? How many could say they survived the Raft? This was the end of the line for most people like Daisy. Giving up was logical. Giving up was what sane people did. Coming to terms with their reality - another thing that sane people did. (Was Daisy sane? Or would she have driven herself crazy with some misguided idea that she’d be freed from this prison?)

But fuck time. Robbie was there - and there was no need to worry about what might have been. Robbie was there and Daisy hadn’t lost her mind. That’s all that mattered. The now. Daisy just had to focus on it. "That a joke about murder, Reyes?” Daisy huffed a laugh, letting herself find some odd comfort in his humor. (Focusing on anything but their surroundings - and even if it was Robbie’s gallow humor, she’d embrace it.) On the other side of the portal, Daisy turned around to watch as Robbie’s body threw out the bullets it had taken. She tried not to think about it as she started undoing the rest of the jacket. It wasn’t even about the heat of hell, it was the feeling of being restricted. (She would have torn off the collar too, but Daisy wasn’t sure what could force the damn thing off.)

“Fuck that, Reyes,” Daisy shot back immediately. The Rider wasn’t something that Robbie could control - not always - and this... this was his domain. She could only imagine how loud the Rider got here. “Don’t you fucking dare,” she warned. He had just gotten back - and he was already jumping back into hell? (No that wasn’t what was freaking Daisy out - it was another person willing to give up their life for her without asking what she wanted. Another person that would be destroyed because of her. How many names until it would end? Or would it end with her name?)

And what fucked up universe brought Robbie back to Earth and then stole him away immediately after? (The one they lived in, clearly.) She was ready to start yelling at him, Daisy stepped closer to him, reaching for his collar, ready to threaten to fight the Rider herself if the other guy thought for two seconds that Daisy was going to let that happen - not that she was much of a threat with the collar locked around her neck... but before she could start, she heard screaming. The anger quickly faded and Daisy couldn’t tell if it was because of the screaming - or the place they were in - but she was on edge. “Robbie...”

He said something about New York being a certain way - but all Daisy could focus on was the cheering and screaming, the sounds of a mass of people grouped in one area. On the horizon, it came into focus, it looked like a coliseum, an arena, a battleground. There was a woman being dragged towards it. A blonde - not just any blonde, Daisy recognized her. Trish Walker. “Do you see that?” Daisy asked, rubbing her forehead as she blinked, and when she opened her eyes... it wasn’t Trish she saw anymore. It was Coulson.

(It couldn’t be. It wasn’t the real him - it was a specter. It had to be.)

Daisy grabbed Robbie roughly by the arm, fueled entirely by panic. “Where is it? The portal - we need to go now.”

ROBBIE: There were a thousand different ways this could go wrong. Robbie knew each and every one of them, had a lengthy list of worst case scenarios lined up in his head. He could get caught here. They could put him in a cell in the Raft and he could rot until the Rider finally allowed his body to give out on him, until the Devil let him go from one Hell to another. He could get stuck between here in New York. The Rider could take him over at the last moment, could shakel him in his own mind all over again, send him back to that world where all he had was a freeway that lead to nowhere and his own thoughts reminding him whose fault it was he was there.

And those, those were some of the better options. There were things he wouldn’t let himself consider, thoughts he was afraid to give name to. They could realize who he was. They could go back to that shitty house in L.A., they could find Gabe and use him to draw Robbie out in the open. Or… he could fail. He could go through all this, he could walk through Hell to find her, could stand in a new version of the nightmare that still plagued him and plead with her to come along and she could tell him no. It was something Robbie learned the hard way, something that Eli and his parents and Coulson all taught him in different ways. You could fight for someone with everything you had, could walk through Hell for them, and sometimes it still wasn’t enough to save them. Sometimes, people were just lost.

He wasn’t going to let that be Daisy. That wasn’t how this story ended. Daisy didn’t get to disappear into the world’s worst prison for the crime of helping him. She didn’t get to spend the rest of her life in a cell because Robbie fucked up. He knew a thing or two about one person paying for another’s mistakes, had seen Gabe in a wheelchair because Eli fucked up. It was the Bauers, Eli had insisted, Joe and Lucy, they started this. They lied. And god, Robbie had felt like laughing. Gabe was in a wheelchair, Robbie had died, and Eli was still going on endlessly about his reason for it all. As if it mattered, as if any of that shit made a goddamn difference at the end of the day. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions, that was how the saying went. Robbie could vouch for that personally, had seen just how Hellish good intentions could make someone. He’d never meant for this to happen to Daisy, just as his uncle never meant for Robbie and Gabe to be caught up in his shit.

Well, I guess it runs in the family.

Daisy spoke, repeated his words back to him, and the relief was nearly enough to take Robbie off his feet. Sometimes, you didn’t get to save people. Sometimes, you did everything you could, you went to Hell and back, you fought with every part of you, and it wasn’t enough. Sometimes. Not today. Today, he at least got her out of the fucking cell. He didn’t know what would happen next, didn’t know how this story ended, but it wouldn’t be with her spending the rest of her life in a manmade Hell because of his mistakes. And maybe the next story ended differently, maybe Robbie couldn’t get away from the things that ran in his family, but for the moment, they were all right. He could recognize a win when he saw one, even if it was a single battle in a war that would go on for years to come.

He huffed a quiet laugh, half genuine humor half leftover relief from the realization that she was coming with him. Shrugging, he offered her a brief nod. “Hey, joke about what you know, right? Murder’s kinda my thing. Seem to remember somebody labeling me a serial killer once.” If you’d told him back then, when Daisy Johnson was just a girl who showed up at his shop talking shit and pissing him off more than anyone else had in a long time that he’d one day walk through literal Hell for just a chance at making sure she was all right, Robbie would have laughed. He would have called you a goddamn idiot, would have done anything but believe you. Back then, the idea of saving her would have seemed insane. Now, the idea of leaving her felt far crazier.

She was taking off the rest of that jacket, and Robbie took a moment to close his eyes. It was an action with two purposes --- assessing the soon-to-be-healed damage to his back and attempting to push the Rider a little further down. The back would be fine. Already he felt the wounds stitching themselves shut, a stark reminder that the Devil wasn’t finished with him yet. His eyes snapped open when Daisy spoke again, noting that familiar anger in her voice. Robbie’d had a talent for pissing her off since the day he met her. Going to Hell hadn’t robbed him of that.

“You really think I get a goddamn say? What, I ask nicely and the Devil’s gonna see my side of things? I say please and he’s gonna give up his gig here and let me go back to drinking him into a fucking corner? I’m not giving up here, Daisy, I’m not telling you to leave my ass behind. I’m giving you a warning. Letting you know what might happen. If it’s up to me, you’re buying me a drink when this shit’s over.” But it wasn’t up to him. Not entirely, not with the Rider pushing and scraping at the edges of his mind. One second, that was all it would take. One second of Robbie letting his guard down, one moment of losing control. He remembered the church his mother used to drag him to in the days before she’d decided parenthood wasn’t for her, remembered the sermons the preacher spat out from the pulpit. Damnation takes just a single slip. He wondered if the man had known just how literal that statement could be.

But, of course, Daisy wouldn’t accept that. She was stubborn and, right now, she was angry. Robbie saw it reflected in her eyes, recognized the storm brewing behind her expression. He knew he was in for an earful… and he was kind of touched. Who else would take time to scream at him in the pits of Hell? Who else cared about him that much?

Her expression shifted suddenly, and Robbie tilted his head to the side, curious as to what might have caused the change. It took him a moment to recognize the screaming. He’d gotten so used to the sound over the last few years, heard it so often that it blended into the background as easily as the sound of his own heartbeat. It had been a constant soundtrack for so long that he forgot not everyone was accustomed to the noise. Turning back, he caught sight of a woman being pulled into the arena, shrugging at Daisy’s question. “That’s where they fight,” he said simply, as if it was obvious. “She looks new. Won’t be fun for her, but that’s not our problem.” He was about to turn back to Daisy, about to tell her they ought to get a move on when he caught sight of another face at the edge of the arena.

Coulson.

Their eyes locked for a moment, Robbie sucking in a breath as the older man held his gaze. His throat was dry, his heart pounding. After a moment, Daisy’s hand on his arm pulled him from the trance and Robbie whirled back around to face her. “This way,” he said quickly, taking her arm and tugging her towards it. “We need to go now. If we can get out of here fast, I can keep the other guy down.” He hoped.

The portal was visible up ahead and Robbie dragged Daisy towards it quickly, wanting to get out before Coulson or the terrified blonde woman or any of the thousand ghosts Hell had to offer could step into their path and slow them down.

DAISY: It was the extreme of the situation that was making the laughter bubble up from Daisy. The fact that of all the people to break her out of the Raft, it was Robbie, and his path back to the city was through hell. Why was she surprised that this was the turn her life would take? But maybe it was a good thing that she could still be surprised. That there was still some crazy left in the world that could sneak up on her. And maybe there was that small blip of hope that reminded Daisy that no one in the future ever mentioned her being imprisoned in the Raft or escaping it – which meant… it meant she had done something differently. And maybe the future she had seen – the one that she had created – it could be avoided.

“I was wrong,” Daisy said. It felt strange to smile after everything that had happened, and to be smiling in hell? Another thing entirely. “And no, I won’t ever say that again, Reyes. So, enjoy it. It’s never happening again.” For a moment, everything felt light, despite the oppressive atmosphere of hell. Maybe that was delirium or hysteria some part of Daisy desperately trying not to think about what they were actually doing here... but she was laughing. For the first time since she was arrested, she was laughing. Catching her breath, she wanted it to stay like this. To stay in this small moment of peace they had found in hell... but this was only the start of the journey. They had to get through hell, literally, and then she’d be faced with a new mountain of problems.

The collar. Being a fugitive. Find a place to stay - Daisy wasn’t going to be able to step back into her life as though nothing had happened. Once again, Daisy had made a series of choices that would turn her life upside down. (And those around her were sucked into this storm as well. Alex, Robbie... Matt.) And to highlight that, Robbie was trying to tell her that he had made a deal with the other guy to make sure she got out. Maybe it was their location that was fueling her anger or that she was reminded once again, she had no control over anything. None. Not who lives, not who dies, and not for what fucking reason. Robbie was willing to trade his life for hers, to make sure she got out (he didn’t get a choice, he claimed, but he had made one when he stepped through hell to reach her, he had a choice, even if he didn’t feel like he did).

Hell seemed to have the same impact on Robbie, he snapped back at her - and Daisy didn’t have the capacity to call him out on any of it. The drinking, the way he was making decisions for her (even unconsciously) - but the last part, she could do that much. But she never had a chance to shove him away and tell him a drink wouldn’t do him any good if he got stuck. Would her admitting to giving a shit about him help - or just give the Rider more leverage over Robbie’s soul? A new way to manipulate the body he borrowed.

(Daisy needed to start keeping a list of things she wished she had said. Moments she let slide right past her. Because she knew she was going to regret not saying anything... but the moment flew past them so fast, Daisy didn’t have time to form words.)

“Do they make everyone fight?”

A question she didn’t want the answer to. Whatever the answer was, it wasn’t like Daisy could do shit about it. Her stomach turned as Trish was pulled away towards the arena - it wasn’t their problem - but watching someone be pulled away to a place where Daisy knew they’d be suffering? Trish was right there but Daisy couldn't do anything to help her. A feeling of uselessness pooling in her stomach as Daisy tried to come to terms with that reality. (She was no hero and Trish wasn’t her problem. If Daisy believed that, this would have been easier.)

“Robbie,” Daisy said his name in a panic, barely nodding her head at his words. As much as she wanted to focus on him, her eyes and her attention had gone back to the figure on the horizon. Coulson. Coulson was in hell. Her mind was already tipping into a downward spiral, but as Robbie pulled her arm, she snapped out of it. (Mostly.) But thankfully, Robbie was aware enough to know what to do. Stable enough to guide her to the exit. With the urgency in his tone, Daisy let her adrenaline and panic move her - and she ran. As fast as she could. Her grip on him changed, her hand finding his - a reminder for herself that he was still there, and her grip tight enough to tell him she wasn’t about to let go.

When they reached the portal, Daisy practically threw herself through it, gasping for breath as she hit the ground. “Robbie - I -” Daisy looked at him, shaking her head. Did you see him too? That was what she wanted to ask, but the words died on her lips. Too scared to know if she was hallucinating or if it had been reality.

Daisy squeezed her eyes shut while she continued to struggle to breathe. Her mind running through all the wisdom she had received over the years. But nothing seemed to fit. So, she focused on the one thing she could control. Forcing everything else down. “Can you get this damn collar off me?”

ROBBIE: It was telling, Robbie often thought, that the Rider had never presented saving people as an option when he was convincing Robbie to make his deal. The Devil didn’t ask him if he wanted to be a superhero. He wasn’t given a choice that involved making the world a better place, wasn’t offered a chance to save people from those like the ones who’d killed Robbie. ”Do you want to punish those who hurt your brother? Do you want to avenge your own death?” There was nothing noble in the offer, nothing heroic. And yet, Robbie’s answer had been the same.

”Yes. More than anything, yes.”

For a long time, Robbie put a curtain up between himself and the demon inside his head. That wasn’t him, he’d swear. He wasn’t the one killing all those people. It was something else, something inside him, something that he couldn’t control. He told himself that over and over again, muttered it every time he left a trail of bodies behind, insisted on it any time someone attempted to hold him responsible for the dead in his wake. It wasn’t Robbie who craved vengeance, wasn’t Robbie who tore people apart. It wasn’t him, it was the Devil. It was Ghost Rider. It was someone else.

But it wasn’t.

It wasn’t the Rider who killed Santino Noguera in his cell, wasn’t the Rider who was so enraged at the sight of a former gang leader lying on a cot and reading a paperback that he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. It wasn’t the Rider who saw Eli standing across from him and lost all control, wasn’t the Rider who was willing to spend eternity in Hell himself if it meant he could personally deliver the man who’d raised him to the same fate. The Rider craved vengeance, but he hadn’t made Robbie take that deal. He hadn’t made Robbie answer with such desperate want in his tone. The Rider craved vengeance, but he wasn’t the only one.

Gabe had known it. Robbie didn’t think he’d ever forget the disgust on his younger brother’s face when he’d shoved Robbie’s touch away, the way his lips curled up when Robbie insisted that those gangsters got what they deserved for what they’d done to Gabe. Don’t you put their blood on me.

Robbie wasn’t a hero. He’d never once been that. Not before the Rider, and certainly not after. This, breaking into the Raft to save the one person in his life who was still willing to speak to him, this wasn’t heroism. It was selfish. Everything Robbie did, at its core, was selfish. He glanced over to her now, smiling faintly and huffing a laugh that wasn’t entirely genuine. “Yeah, I’ll put it in my memory banks. Take a mental snapshot. I’ll remind you you said it later.” It wasn’t what he meant to say. What he meant to say was, ’You probably weren’t far off.’ She hadn’t been. That initial assessment, the one that labeled him a serial killer, it was harsh but it wasn’t unfair. It wasn’t uncalled for. There was a difference, Robbie knew, between justice and vengeance. He’d never once pretended to fall on the right side of that line.

Daisy was laughing then, and Robbie wasn’t sure if he ought to be relieved or concerned. He’d seen people crack under far less pressure than this, seen Hell break strong willed people into shards of glass too small to hold between your fingers in less time than they’d been standing here now. He wondered if, after all this, she’d be lost anyways. If he’d come all the way here just for her to lose herself on the route home. You could walk through Hell for someone, but sometimes it still wasn’t enough. Some people, you didn’t get to save. Robbie was one of them, he knew. That was part of what had made this decision an easy one. It didn’t matter, in the end, whether or not he got out of Hell today. It didn’t matter if that portal closed before his feet were on the other side, because this was the deal he’d made. This was what was waiting for him when all was said and done. No matter how it ended, no matter how he got there, Robbie Reyes’s story only ever ended in one place. Sometimes, Eli would have said with that crooked grin and those eyes that never stopped laughing, the light at the end of the tunnel is fire and brimstone.

(Had he known back then that that was how his story ended? Had he known Robbie would be the one ending it?)

There was a fire burning all around them, warm and familiar and terrifying, and there was a fire burning inside him just as furiously. He was angry at Daisy for caring enough about him to risk her skin for him again and again, angry at her for being caught, angry at her for wanting a way out for him when all he wanted was for her to be okay. He was angry at her for daring to believe that he deserved more than this. He was angry at her for making him hope, even for a second, that she might be right. .

The anger drained out of him all at once when she spoke, eyes flickering back over to the familiar sight of the arena, the familiar chorus of cheers raising up from within it. Do they make everyone fight? For a heartbeat, that fire was back. It was burning in his eyes, in his chest, in whatever was left of his soul, and he remembered being here without her, remembered the rush of adrenaline, the way he didn’t know which feelings were his and which were the Devil’s, the way he almost didn’t care because as long as he felt something, if didn’t matter where it came from. “No,” he answered at last, jaw tight. “Some people, they don’t have to make.”

Robbie had never been like the blonde woman, fighting and clawing and trying with everything she had to escape her fate. Vengeance or peace? That’s what the deal he’d made boiled down to, in the end. Did he want to die on that dirty street with the world on fire around him, or did he want to live to set those flames himself? Did he want to go to his grave with only his own blood on his hands, or did he want to soak the earth with so much blood that the soil was damp with it? Vengeance or peace? Robbie had made his choice. He still wasn’t sure he regretted it.

(It was the choice Eli made, too. Robbie remembered Lucy Bauer, smiling at him with teeth that had rotted out of her head because Eli killed her, remembered the way she looked at him. ”You’re his nephew. Gabriel. Like the angel.” She’d sneered at him with those rotting teeth, smiled like she knew him, like she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. And Robbie --- Robbie had felt like laughing. ”No,” he’d said, shaking his head. ”I’m the other one.” Not an angel. Never that.)

(Well, I guess it runs in the family.)

She threw herself through the portal like a drowned swimmer desperate for shore, and Robbie stepped out after her with a relief so heavy it nearly knocked him off his feet. The Rider pounded on the wall that separated his consciousness from Robbie’s as his feet touched the earth, but Robbie knew it was too late. The portal closed behind him, and he was on the side that came with his mind in the driver’s seat, the side that meant he’d go to work in the morning and pay his rent on time and buy groceries before the milk in the fridge went bad. (Robbie didn’t know if it was the right side. It was the side he wanted to be on, but it certainly wasn’t the side he deserved.)

His name on her lips again, and he knew what she was thinking. He knew what she wanted to ask. Selfishly, he hoped she wouldn’t. Gabe hated him now. Robbie had known it the moment his brother pulled away from him in that containment module, the moment he said Ghost Rider in a breathless tone that was disappointed and terrified all at once. His brother hated him, his parents walked out on him, and he dragged the only father he’d ever known to Hell and left him to burn. Daisy was all he had, the only person who knew who he was and liked him anyways. And if she asked that question on the tip of her tongue, Robbie would tell her the answer.

And she would hate him for it.

There was a moment, a stuttering, heart-wrenching moment where she stared at him and he stared at her and the end was right there in sight. She would ask the question and he would answer it and she would hate him. He would get every goddamn thing he’d ever deserved, carve out the fate he’d earned for himself.

She shut her eyes and he steeled himself, ready for the world to implode around him, and then it didn’t. She asked another question instead, and Robbie hated himself for the surge of relief that came with it. One day, he knew, that other question would come. One day, she’d ask it and he’d answer her and it would be the end of everything. The world would burn away around him, just as it had on that dingy street where his blood still stained the pavement.

But not today.

“Yeah,” he said, the word coming out in a single quiet breath. “Hold still. We’ll see what we can do.”

[crusnikroxas]

La Première (18+)

**Author Note**

Bara Undertale Sans x Reader

Word count: 4432

This is last part of the first prize from the raffle for the lovely @malenchka! :3 She requested ‘your first time with a touch sensitive Sans’ ;p Oh yeah. And he’s a biiiiig guy. >.>

I’m sorry if this isn’t as, uh, excessively long as usual (not like Sans’ di-); I’m a bit under the weather, so my brain is kind of dead T-T

**End Note**

“ah, sorry sweetheart, i’m kinda busy today.’

“i’ll be working late again tonight, sorry.”

“i just can’t today, m’sorry.”

“...sorry, y/n.”

Your interactions with your boyfriend Sans had been going on like this for around three weeks now. Excuse after excuse – the only interactions with him you’d had were over the phone.

And the worst thing was that you knew exactly why.

The last time you’d seen him you’d been hanging out on the couch like always, just chilling and screaming at a particularly stupid movie on Netflix. You’d sneakily attempted to move a little closer than usual, hoping for a snuggle session; something which Sans had always seemed edgy about, but you just had a desperation to be closer….

...before you accidentally touched his neck.

You hadn’t meant to – the top of your head had simply trailed across it as you were struggling to get yourself properly situated; you should have guessed that it wouldn’t be an easy feat, given his size.

But that small touch was all it took – before you knew it, you’d been promptly shoved to the side, and Sans had quickly retreated, spouting some bullshit about suddenly being exhausted, leaving you alone on the couch, completely nonplussed.

And now, you were fed up.

If he was worried about how you’d feel about him finding you….disgusting, well, sure, you were going to feel like utter crap, but at least you’d know. Anything was better than this obvious evasion bullcrap of his.

So you hatched a devious plan – a plan which his brother had helped you with, naturally (Papyrus had freaked out pretty bad after not seeing you for a week – but was endlessly thankful to find out you didn’t hate him). He’d hidden you at their house until he was completely sure that Sans was around (yes, you’d sat yourself in a cupboard for a solid 4 hours, you weren’t exactly proud of it, but desperate times called for desperate measures); before leaving to go to Undyne’s for the weekend, texting you as he left (GOOD LUCK, TINY HUMAN! I BELIEVE IN YOU!)

The trap was set. Now all you had to do was complete it, and not fuck up.

Slowly you slunk out of your kitchen cupboard prison, quietly stretching your arching limbs and sighing in relief when you heard that the TV was on – that meant he probably wouldn’t hear your approach, an integral part to the plan; you didn’t want him teleporting off somewhere, so you needed to make sure you had some kind of hold on him. That way, he wouldn’t be able to simply disappear without carrying you along.

Gathering your grit, you sneaked your way across the carpet to the living room, keeping as low as you could, just in case he saw your reflection in the TV screen. Soon, you were safely behind the couch, an oblivious Sans giggling at something on the TV above you.

Before he could so much as catch his breath after his laughter, you leapt up from your hiding place, hooking your arms around his neck as hard as you could, grasping onto your arms for added grip.

He gasped raggedly at the contact – and the next thing you knew, your body had started to float up off the ground; you growled under your breath, gripping harder to ensure continued contact, quite offended that he’d have the nerve to use magic on you.

“Stop it with the floating crap, Sans!”

You immediately drop back against the back of the couch as Sans continues to gasp in alarm, now realising who it was who had openly attacked him; you purposely squeezed a little tighter. If he was that disgusted by your touch, by god, you were going to make him suffer for it.

“Right. Now, here’s how it’s gonna go down-”

“stars, y/n, you scared the soul outta me!”

“Shhh! You’ve been ghosting me for three weeks, and now, you’re going to tell me why, and I’m not letting go until you do!”

Sans groans softly at that, before quickly standing up in an effort to catch you off guard and shake you off; which doesn’t work in the least, only making you hang on all the tighter as your kicking feet swing in the air.

“I told you, I’m not letting go! Now, sit the fuck back down and talk to me!”

He outright growled at that, but did as you asked, plonking himself back down on the couch with an irritated huff, giving you the opportunity to scramble over the back of the couch at last and wrap your body around his; something which you almost immediately regret when he shudders and tenses up under your touch.

“….do you hate me that much, Sans? Am I….that disgusting to you?”

You’re met with silence, before he heaves out a heavy sigh.

“...no, y/n, sweetheart, it’s not like that. shit, i should have realised that’s what you’d think...”

“...well, do you just want to end this thing we have, then? Is that why you-”

“no! stars, no. i….ok, no good way to come out with this….but first, would you...can you l-let go of me?”

“….are you just going to run away if I do?”

“i promise you, sweetheart, i won’t.”

You grumble slightly, but finally allow yourself to let go – Sans was always a man of his word. Slowly you clamber off his back, landing with a soft ‘oof’ next to him on the couch; he meanwhile seems to sigh with relief, making your metaphorical hackles raise in response.

“So. Explain. Because you seem pretty damn pleased that I’m not touching you right now.”

He squirmed in his seat, painful guilt spreading across his features.

“i don’t...hate you. or find you disgusting….heh, quite the opposite, in fact. but….oh man, this is gonna sound so stupid. i’ve never….i’ve never been with a human before. you’re just so...so tiny, and it’s been so long since someone’s hugged me like that, and i just don’t know how to deal with it-”

“Wait. So what you’re saying is….that you’re basically touch-starved? And worried that you’re going to hurt me?”

He hurriedly nods, gulping, eye-lights flickering down to examine the carpet.

“pretty stupid, right?”

“...no, not at all. I mean….I get it, if that’s what you’re worried about. But Sans...Sans, look at me.”

He does, his expression desperate, obviously expecting the worst; carefully, keeping eye-contact with him all the while, you climb up and into his lap, before slowly reaching up and cupping his face – he shudders delicately under your touch, his expression growing increasingly anxious.

“Hey, it’s ok. You’re safe….just relax into it, ok? It’s ok to just….enjoy it. I’m not going anywhere.”

His sockets widen slightly at your words, before he heaves out a heavy sigh, taking a moment to adjust, smile stretching a little wider as you gently rubbed at his cheeks with your thumbs.

“See? I’m not breaking or anything.”

“…but i’m not touching you.”

“You can, if you like.”

He hesitates for a brief second, before reaching up and placing his hands on your waist; now it was your turn to shudder slightly under his touch – the sensation of his enormous hands squeezing the flesh of your stomach was utterly delicious.

“am i hurting you?”

“Oh no, far from it. I was just thinking...how nice it feels.”

The corners of his smile lift at that, his movements on your waist growing a little more confident, phalanges prodding and stroking at the flesh curiously; how you ached to have those hands under your shirt.

Edging your body just a touch closer, you tip your head up and confidently kiss him; for a moment, his body freezes up, before he moans, deep and low, opening his mouth and licking your lips – a heated shiver runs up and down your spine as you open your mouth, lapping at his tongue as best you could, inwardly day-dreaming about how amazing such a tongue would feel just a little lower.

Eventually, you’re the one to break the kiss, smiling up at him reassuringly as he exhaled as if he’d been running a race, chest heaving, a spattering of blush across his cheekbones. It was a good thing; it told you that he was enjoying what you were doing. There wasn’t a hint of revulsion in his expression, only a sweet, worried hesitance.  

Slowly, you trailed your hands down to his neck; his breathing hitches, a soft moan escaping him, his sockets fluttering shut – you grin in response, continuing to trail your fingers ever so softly over his vertebrae.

“Is that….nice?”

He shivers at your slightly lowered tone, frantically nodding.

“y-yeah. sweetheart, are you sure-”

“You’re not hurting me, not even a little. In fact...”

Your hands leave his neck briefly, resulting in a gentle whine of complaint from him; which quickly changes to a choked inhale, his sockets shooting open in shock as you lift up your shirt, slowly dragging his hands up to your ribcage.

“...I think you can touch me more. I want you to.”

“i...i...”

His eye-lights shake and dilate in his sockets, his phalanges warily grazing against your flesh, feeling the bones beneath.

“...y/n...you’re so...tiny.”

“Pfft. Maybe by monster standards.”

“heh, i mean, your ribcage is just...”

You chuckled, hands drifting to his chest, fingers trailing over the bones beneath his shirt.

“Well, compared to yours, I suppose you’re right.”

He’d gone completely still at your gentle, stroking touch, sockets wide, before a nervous, shaking laugh escapes him.

“heh, y/n, t-that’s kind of a s-sensitive-”

He gasps, his back arching as you experimentally dig your fingernails into what bones you could reach through his shirt.

“h-holy shit-”

“Too much?”

A shuddering, more than pleased moan is all you receive; grinning a little wider, you quickly flip up his shirt, fingers seeking his ribs – you blink in shocked surprise as you realise he really wasn’t kidding about you being ‘tiny’; you just about manage to grab a hold of one of his floating ribs, your hand barely closing around the thick bone.

Sans’ socket flared with magic, a mewl erupting from him as you stroked the slightly rough texture of his floating rib. Feeling ever more confident, you lean your body forward, licking the side of his neck, grinding your hips into him; his hands tightened deliciously on your body, thumbs rubbing the undersides of your breasts as his movements became evermore desperate.

“y-y-y/n-!”

You hummed softly in answer, stopping for a moment in your ministrations to look up at him teasingly.

“You ok?”

“m-mm...”

“Want me to keep….going? Or is this too fast?”

He ground his teeth as he thought it over, eye-lights flickering as he read your expressions.

“i...sweetheart, i’d love to, but-”

“Oh, well, if you’d love to~”

You purposely scraped your fingernails along his rib; his mouth opens in a silent scream, phalanges digging down hard into your flesh subconsciously – you wondered if he realised how close his thumbs were to your breasts, as surely he must have noticed your squirming as you relished under the harder touch.

“n-no, wait!”

You immediately stop, not wanting to make him panic.

“What’s up?”

“i...i….i’m gonna be too big for...y-you.”

You raise a singular brow at that.

“You mean your dick?”

He flushed, socket widening at your brass statement.

“uh...yeah.”

“Huh. Well, can I be the judge of that? Bet you anything that you won’t be.”

He audibly gulped, before chuckling gently.

“...you really wanna do this on the couch?”

“Honestly, I’d be happy to do it anywhere if it involves you. But if you’re uncomfortable, we can move.”

His blush immediately increased at your words, embarrassed puffs of laughter escaping him.

“oh, stars, sweetheart – heh, you’re being kinda, uh….dominant, y’know? ‘kay, maybe that’s not the right word, but-”

“You’re nervous about this, right? So I don’t mind taking the lead just a little until you feel more confident about things. I just….I just want to make you feel good.”

More embarrassed laughter escapes him at that point, his gigantic body shaking underneath yours.

“So...want to go to your room?”

With a little more eagerness, he grabs onto your body harder; and before you knew it, you’d appeared in Sans’ admittedly filthy room. He’d managed to appear on his mattress though, thankfully (landing in a pile of dirty socks would have most definitely been a turn off).

Now that he was in a more ‘comfortable’ space, you wasted no time, quickly returning to your gentle touches, increasing the kisses and licks against his neck; he shivered and groaned loud, before pulling you off with apparent ease, hands tight on your hips as he held you away from his body. You frown, struggling lightly in his hold, not understanding his sudden refusal.

“h-hang on a second. i just….did you...”

He swallowed, eye-lights shifting away from you.

“did you wanna….get undressed with me? it’d probably make it...easier, right?”

You pause for a moment, absorbing his words, before grinning wide, happy that he was getting a little more confident with being intimate with you.

“Hell yes it would, big guy. So….wanna go first?”

“….how ‘bout we take turns?”

You shrug; you weren’t bothered either way – the sooner you got your mitts on him the better. He smirked slightly, obviously catching onto your hardly masked eagerness; before he started to peel off his t-shirt, keeping solid eye-contact with you all the while.

You bite at your lip as his full ribcage finally comes into view; it was one thing to feel it, but to actually see it in front of you? He truly was massive. You could understand why he thought of you as delicate and breakable, with bones as thick and hardy as his – his humerus was the size of your thigh, for fucks sake.

He watched your expression for any hint of hesitation; and seemed quite shocked to not only find no such thing, but to see the growing excitement on your features.

What could you say? You were a total size queen.

“Heh, guess that makes it my turn, right?”

Smirking ever so slightly, you shed yourself of your own t-shirt, confidence sky-rocketing when you hear a soft intake of breath coming from Sans, his eye-lights dilating at the sight of you. You’re a little put off, however, by his next words.

“...you’re so tiny.”

“Oh my god, would you stop? Yeah, you’re the monster with a teeny tiny human for a girlfriend, we get it.”

He audibly snorts, covering his mouth as his frame shakes with laughter; laughter which continued as he started to strip off his shorts, before carelessly throwing the material off into some corner of his room (probably never to be seen again). You feel some disappointment that he’s wearing boxers under his shorts (he’d always struck you as the type to be too lazy for underwear, but apparently you were sorely mistaken), but that disappointment soon disappears as you notice the glowing tent in said boxers.

He really wasn’t kidding when he said he was big. But he was wrong about being too big for you, that was for sure – your mouth practically watered at the sight of his concealed length, and it took all you had not to pounce on him; no, you were still taking this carefully, after all.

Gulping down in an effort to suppress yourself further, you squirmed out of your jeans, kicking the constrictive material off your legs, allowing air to hit your soaking core; it was a good thing you didn’t care too much about this particular pair of panties.

Now, this was where Sans was left slightly at a loss, knowing that he’d be completely nude before you. Seeing his discomfort, you softly place you hand over his knee (ignoring his shiver at the contact – now that you knew what it truly meant, it wasn’t something to be bothered about), smiling at him with equal softness.

“Would you like it better if we both stripped off completely at the same time?….or maybe you’d prefer it if-”

You hand trailed a little higher, edging up his femur.

“-I took this off for you?”

He growled softly under his breath, making to swat your hand off him, which you easily evade.

“woman, you’re going to be the death of me, i swear.”

“Nah, you don’t think that. Really, you want me to do it...”

You edge your body closer, fingertips trailing further still up his femur.

“Really, you want me to undress you, to touch you. That’s what you really want, isn’t it….Sans?”

His breath stutters out of him, his body quivering in clear excitement as your fingertips edged closer and closer to his crotch.

“You’ve got to use your words if you want me to, of course….or perhaps you don’t? Perhaps I should just get dressed-”

“n-no! um. please.”

“Please what?”

He gulped, his sockets huge, eye-lights blown wide as he watched your every movement.

“p-please….please touch me.”

You smirked, leaning forward and grasping the material of his boxers with your teeth, gently starting the process of tugging them down and off him; he lifts his hips almost shyly, face a blushing mess as his erection finally springs free – upon seeing it, you instantaneously lose your careful nature, all but ripping his boxers off the rest of his body, an almost feral noise rippling up your throat at the sight of him.

He watches you warily for a moment as you take in the sight of him, and by god, what a sight – just looking at his massive length alone was making your thighs quiver. But before he can question your thoughts, he lets out a yelp as you bend, trailing a long, languid lick up his length, letting out a breathy moan as you did so.

“f-f-fuck, y/n-”

“Shh...just let me make you feel good, ok?”

Ignoring his faint protests, you run your tongue around his tip slowly, revelling in the sensation – he was so wonderfully smooth, almost like one of your toys; but alive, warm, pulsing with every movement of your tongue. Groaning in faint ecstasy, you finally take him into your mouth, your lips stretching as wide as they possibly could to accommodate his thickness as you trailed your tongue down the underside of his cock. Finally looking up at him, you locked eye-contact as you swallowed him a little deeper into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks to create suction; and his expression is an absolute picture.

His mouth hangs open, tongue lolling as he gasped and mewled, his cheeks overrun by blue blush; his body squirmed, clearly overstimulated, yet he didn’t pull away from you, and always kept eye-contact with you – it seemed that he was drinking in your expressions just as much as you were his.

Inwardly, you smirk, purposefully swallowing around his length, taking him deeper into your throat, before bobbing your head, now that your mouth and throat were somewhat accustomed to how thick he was; but your movements are short lived as you’re unceremoniously yanked off of him once again. You whine softly, attempting to scramble back to him, only to have him openly laugh (albeit a little breathlessly, thanks to your treatment), thumbs digging into your hip bones.

“pfft, sweetheart, c’mon, if you kept going i would’ve...”

He faltered a little, a little more blush creeping up on his cheeks (not something you’d have thought possible by this point, honestly). You grumble in disappointment, stopping your struggles at last.

“And what if that was what I was trying to do, huh?”

He blinks, clearly not expecting that answer, his grip loosening a little.

“i...uh...”

“Heh, nah, kidding big guy - ‘course I want you inside me, I’d be crazy to pass that up.”

He chokes out a surprised breath, eye-lights turning into tiny hearts momentarily; you chuckle and smirk, before arching in his grip, plastering on your best submissive expression.

“C’mon, don’t you want to fill me up...Sans?”

For a moment, you worry that you’d actually managed to break him, given how long he simply stared at you, frozen; before a low, rumbling growl rose from him, making your toes curl in sweet anticipation.

“I’d be so tight around you, so wet-”

You softly squeak as you’re promptly dumped on your back onto the mattress; before you squeak somewhat louder as he rips both articles of underwear clean off your body, throwing them somewhere behind him. For the briefest of seconds, you think about protesting; but then it occurs to you that you didn’t really care for that particular set anyway.

And him just ripping your clothing off you as if it was nothing was incredibly hot.

You squirm your body purposefully, arching your back and opening your legs; a clear invitation. Sans grumbles above you, eye-lights raking over every inch of you, now completely laid bare to him – his fingers dig into the surface of the mattress on either side of your head, and you frown, confused as to why is was still restraining himself. It then occurred to you that he was probably still worried over breaking you, and perhaps still feeling a little unsure of himself full-stop.

Now, you could, of course, stop. Call it a day.

But your body had no such patience for that.

You keen wantonly underneath him, thrusting your hips up in an effort to meet his, every inch of you screaming how much you wanted this, how much you wanted him, how much you needed his-

You let out a slightly sobbed exhale of relief as he starts to press the head of his cock inside you, letting out a hissing moan as he did so, sockets squeezed shut. You subconsciously angle you hips to make it easier for him, opening your legs a little wider (though truthfully you really wanted to hook your ankles behind his hip bones); you both gasp as his length slips in a little deeper, Sans finally opening his sockets in shock as your pussy hungrily pulled him in.

“y-you’re….you’re ok?”

You whined, thrusting your hips, forcing more of his length inside you; he yelps softly in response, frowning down at you for your impatience.

“...I’m great. I just….I just really need you inside me, please, please-”

A heaving shudder runs through him at your begging, his cock throbbing inside you; but he thankfully listened, grabbing under your behind to force your hips up higher still, slowly thrusting deeper into your core, hissing praises leaving him as he did so.

You knew that he probably wouldn’t last long; you could already feel the tell-tale jerking along his length, could see him shuddering above you – but it hardly mattered, as you knew you weren’t too far behind, you body quivering in glee at how perfectly full you were. And you were only getting fuller.

Your hips jerk against him once again, greedy for more of him; and it seemed you’d timed it at the perfect moment, just as he’d thrust forward himself – before you knew it, his hipbones had slapped against your flesh, both you and Sans letting out quiet screams of surprised satisfaction as he bottomed out. You grinned up at him, squirming deliciously around his length in order to make it easier for him to move.

“Told you that you’d fit.”

He lets out a startled bark of laughter, leaving you to mewl as the movement sends rippling quivers straight to your g-spot. He openly smirks at that, purposefully making his cock jerk inside you, smacking hard against that wonderful, wonderful place.

“y’know, i should probably punish you, for being so damn forceful.”

“You won’t.”

“oh?”

You yelp as he suddenly pulls out, before thrusting back into you just as suddenly; and sure, he might yelped with you, but it certainly got his point across – not that you actually viewed such a thing as a ‘punishment’.  

You grind up against him, trying to move yourself up and down on his cock, suddenly all the more desperate for it, chasing the orgasm that you’d had the briefest of tastes of when he’d thrust inside you.

“More….please Sans! I’m-”

He whines at you continue to grind on him, his phalanges digging into the flesh of your ass, holding you still as you yowled in protest.

“p-please, just wait a sec, i’m really...c-close-”

“Yeah, well, so am I! I don’t care if we haven’t been doing this long, we can do more, please, more, just let me cum, Sans-!”

He snarls, magic flaring in his socket, and for the briefest of moments you worry that you’d actually upset him; before he started to rut into you at an almost furious pace, forcibly bringing your hips up to meet every bruising movement. Your back arches without your consent, sobs leaving your mouth as you’re finally permitted to clench down hard around his cock, muscles twitching with the force of your orgasm; Sans’ breath hitches as he feels you get even tighter around him, his thrusts becoming sloppy – before he, at last, lets himself go, all but roaring as he cums inside you. But instead of the usual amount you’d come to expect when having sex, you gasp in surprise as the sheer amount of cum he’s spurting into you fills you to bursting, dripping from your aching pussy and onto the mattress below. After a good few seconds of filling you up, he shudders, his cock jerking a few more times inside of you, before his body sags; still, despite his obvious fatigue, he carefully pulls out of you, laying the two of you well out of the way of the damp spot.

Grumbling in a satisfied manner, he curls himself around you, sweetly kissing your forehead. You hum happily at the contact, squirming closer to him, snuggling your face against his sternum.

“so….”

“So.”

You hear him audibly gulp, leaving you to giggle.

“Sans, it’s fine. I mean….it was our first time, and I’m not going to lie – that was freakin’ awesome.”

“i didn’t last long-”

“Yeah, and neither did I. Big whoop. I had fun, you had fun – that’s all that matters, you know? I mean, there’s plenty of time to beat out current time, riiight…?”

He chuckles at that, but you can tell he’s pretty relieved.

“i guess. though i wanted to make you cum more than once….”

“Oh? Well, Papyrus is away for the-”

You squeak slightly as he leaps into sudden movement, jumping away and jerking open your legs, before softly kissing your inner thigh.

“nah. sorry sweetheart, you asked for this – i’m thinking that four’s a pretty good number, how about you?”

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

3x06 Missing Scene

So we’re all screaming after the latest @timeless-season-three episode, which included Houdini informing Lucy about something the rest of us have probably guessed for a while, and had Jiya telling Rufus that “Lucy’s over at Flynn’s tonight.” Given that Lucy and Flynn had a tumultuous time during their trip to Roanoke in 3x05 and the ending hug... well, between the two episodes, this totally self-indulgent ficlet was born. Tagging @extasiswings for reasons and of course @qqueenofhades because she’s the reason this whole thing exists in the first place.

This fic is rated Explicit, so you’ll find it below the cut.

She can’t sleep.

That’s not unusual nowadays. Especially now that she’s sharing with Jiya—the poor girl doesn’t like to talk about it but more often than not she wakes up crying in the middle of the night and Lucy crawls over, holding her quietly until it’s over. She knows she’s a poor substitute for the person Jiya really wants to be held by, but it has to be better than nothing.

And besides. If she’s being honest… it reminds her of Amy.

But tonight Jiya’s not sleeping at all, and Lucy can’t handle the suffering of both of them in the same small stuffy room, and her claustrophobia is making her feel like she can’t breathe, and she can’t stop thinking about Flynn.

Garcia.

She nearly lost him. Metaphorically, and then literally, dragged away, sacrificing himself for her while she could do nothing but watch as he was taken. He could’ve been shot, his body dumped into the water, not even a grave and she never would’ve seen him again.

The thought makes her throat close up.

She can’t quite articulate what he is to her. Part of it, she knows, is pure fear. Cowardice. She’s lost too many people—Rufus, Amy, Mom, even Wyatt in a way—and she isn’t sure if she has the strength to speak her heart and then lose someone again.

The other part of it is that she honestly can’t find the words. There’s always been something between them, a spark as deadly as it is exhilarating, and she can’t help but feel the heat of it as it burns when they’re together. It’s intense, and should probably scare her, but it doesn’t. It never has.

But is it—

She can’t finish the sentence, even in her own head.

But she can’t be in this room a second longer, so she gets up, and goes down the hall, and knocks on Flynn’s door.

He opens it with a weary expression on his face, although there’s something warm in his eyes, something she dares to think of now as affection. “Lucy.”

“Garcia.” Now that she’s said his first name once, it seems as though she can’t stop, at least in private. “I was hoping… I could just, spend some time with you?”

“…spend some time.”

She nods.

He gives her an odd look, then opens the door further to let her inside, swinging it softly shut behind her.

“And what did this spending some time entail?”

“I… I’m not here for advice, or anything, I just…” She feels helpless, out of her depth, drowning. “I just need you.”

Flynn blinks at her. “Uh…”

“That came out wrong!” Oh, God, she can feel herself blushing. “I just meant—you—”

The truth is… maybe it didn’t come out that wrong after all. She’s long been aware that Flynn’s generally a three on the personality scale thanks to his near-magical ability to piss off everyone around him, but on the attractiveness scale…

Well. He’s far from hurting.

All right, so maybe he’s annoyingly hot, so what of it? She’s not blind.

And, God, she did nearly lose him, and there have been moments where she’s thought that maybe, the way he was—talking about her and looking at her, that perhaps—

She realizes that the silence has now stretched on long enough to become uncomfortable.

Flynn, at least, looks amused rather than annoyed. “You just meant…” he prompts.

Oh, fuck it. She never does anything reckless, she’s always the good girl, and he’s sexy, and the one person she feels like she can trust and be herself with, and she almost lost him, he almost died and she never even got to finish apologizing, she left so many things unsaid—

She gets up onto her tiptoes, yanks him down by his shirt front, and kisses him.

Flynn does a spectacular impression of a statue.

Something breaks in her chest and she worries—oh God maybe she had it wrong, of course he’s still in love with Lorena, or at least not into her, and she’s crossed a boundary and lost a friend and—

She makes a small sound, she doesn’t mean to but she does as she pulls away, and something about that makes Flynn spring to life. He gets an arm around her waist and hauls her against him, his free hand sliding into her hair to tangle in her curls and tilt her head to the side, giving them both a better angle, as his lips slide against hers and his tongue flicks out, parting the seam of her mouth. She arches up, opening her mouth on a sigh, and for a moment it’s almost soft, slow, the two of them exploring each other for the first time.

Then she remembers why she’s here in the first place. She can feel Flynn’s heartbeat underneath her fingers but it almost stopped, it would be so easy to make it stop—and then she feels hungry, demanding, desperate, and the kiss turns from soft into something else entirely.

She shoves at him, forces him backwards, and Flynn goes easily, acquiesces as he always does to her orders, even the unspoken ones. They land on the bed and she practically claws at his clothes trying to get them off, squirming in his lap, feeling him harden underneath her. A shudder works through her. He feels—well, he feels like he’s six foot four and proportionate.

She wants him inside her so badly she’s dizzy with it.

Her hands finally get underneath his shirt, finally get to skim over the warm planes of his skin, and of course that’s when Flynn’s brain comes back online. He pulls back, panting, and oh, well-kissed and desperate is a very good look on him.

“Lucy.” He says her name like nobody else. “What—”

She cups his face in her hands. “You almost died,” she whispers. “And there are so many—I mean I’ve lost—” Words feel so inadequate. “Garcia,” she ends up whispering, her voice cracking.

He runs a hand through her hair, his thumb brushing her cheek. There’s so much in his eyes, things she doesn’t dare name, and she sort of knows she’s in denial but there’s only so much she can handle right now and she can’t afford to break, she can’t.

“If it really means that much to you,” he whispers, his accent thicker than usual and rather spoiling the lighthearted tone he’s going for, “then I’ll do my best to stick around.”

She makes a noise that’s a laugh and a sob at the same time, and she kisses him again, and this time he doesn’t stop her when she yanks his shirt off.

Oh, fuck, yes, he’s all hard muscle, his skin dotted through with scars, and she doesn’t waste a second getting her mouth on them, feeling them with her tongue. Flynn inhales sharply and then she’s being flipped, her legs spread as she lands on her back on the bed, her loose flannel pajama pants getting yanked down as Flynn gets his mouth on her thighs.

She has to clap a hand over her mouth, surprise making her cry out a little. She’s not ashamed, she’s a grown woman goddammit, but this bunker has enough relationship drama already without adding her and Flynn’s midnight rendezvous to the mix. Flynn chuckles against her skin, dark and self-satisfied, and then he nips at it and proceeds to lick his way into what feels like the very heart of her.

Dear. God.

It might have been a while since Flynn was with Lorena, but he’s forgotten nothing about how to do this. He slides his tongue in and out of her and all she can do is get a handful of his hair and try not to buck him off the bed as she loses all motor functions and the world goes white.

Flynn pulls away from her, his mouth red and slick with her, his eyes questioning as if he’s checking to make sure she really did, in fact, enjoy that orgasm or if all the writhing and tugging at his hair was for show.

She sits up, tugging her shirt up and off and finishing kicking her pants to the floor, then crawls back to him, undoing his own pants and then seating herself in his lap again. She rather likes his lap. She plans to spend a lot more time here from now on.

“I don’t—”

“I took my shot,” she assures him. Being on the pill when you’re time traveling is a bitch to keep track of so she switched to something a bit more permanent way back when she was still living at home, when things—dear God she can’t believe she’s thinking this—actually had some feeling of normalcy.

Flynn hesitates a moment more, then nods and lets her wrap her hand around him.

Mmm, yes, he’s thick, and she takes pleasure in playing with him a little, watching the way Flynn’s mouth falls open and his eyes go wide and glazed. He works his hand between, gets his fingers in her, as if to double check that she’s really sure, she’s ready, and then he’s carefully parting her and she’s sinking down onto him and all the air gets punched out of her lungs.

She tips forward and rests her forehead against his, the two of them breathing together for a moment as they both adjust. She wraps her arms around his neck, wondering if she can take all of him into her, if she can somehow actually make magic happen and brand him, mark him, so that his life is tied to hers and he will remain alive so long as she does.

It certainly feels like something deep, some kind of witchcraft, as she tilts her head and their mouths meet again. She can taste herself on his tongue as she sucks on it, as his teeth scrape against her lower lip, and at last, as if by silent pact, they both begin to move.

She presses down onto him as he thrusts up, and it’s a bit shallow but good, so good, gliding along and pressing against those nerves as she gets used to him, opens up more for him. Her mouth falls open and she begins to breathe by gasps, Flynn’s chest heaving against hers, their skin growing slick with sweat as their bodies slide against each other. Her nails dig into his back and he groans, thrusts harder, and with that it’s like a dam breaking loose. He falls back and she digs her knees into the mattress, fucks down onto him as hard and fast as she can, drawing him into her and marking his chest in glorious stripes of red as he moves his palms up to cup her breasts, then slides them down to rub his thumb against her clit, and it feels like she’s at the center of a whirlwind, like she’s the storm itself and dragging him in with her, like maybe she—what they are together—is a union at once unholy and fantastical.

Flynn is, in his own intense and unconventional way, ever the gentleman, and she can feel him straining to hold back as he fucks her, touching her in all the places that he learns can make her moan, until she’s coming a second time and clenching around him, her head falling back. She collapses forward onto him and he wraps an arm around her lower back, thrusts deep into her a few last, messy times, before she can feel him stiffening and spilling within her.

She feels completely, thoroughly fucked, and she loves it.

They breathe harshly, covered in sweat and, in Flynn’s case, claw marks. She isn’t sure what to say, what to do now. All she knows is that she doesn’t want to leave him.

He slides out of her eventually, growing soft, and they manage to clean themselves up somewhat. She doesn’t bother with her pants, just tugs her shirt over her head, and Flynn gets his pants back on but arches his eyebrows in amusement and obeys when she shakes her head as he grabs his shirt, dropping it dramatically to the floor. She can’t help but laugh a little at that, and his smile turns into a full on beam of sunshine, as if he can’t believe that he’s actually managed to make her joyful, if only for a moment.

She isn’t sure how to ask if she should stay, but Flynn seems to take it for granted, sliding into bed on his side and pulling back the blankets for her. “Would you call that ‘gentle and responsive’?” she teases as she slides in next to him.

Flynn snorts, tugging the blankets over both of them as she unashamedly snuggles into his side. “Looks like the journal lied, then.”

She chokes on her own spit. “I—the—it doesn’t say that in there!”

Flynn laughs so hard he makes the bed shake. “I’m sorry—the look on your face—”

She smacks him on the chest, uncaring that she’s hitting the marks she made with her nails. “You asshole.”

Flynn just hums, looking smug, pulling her back into his side. Lucy bites her lip. There are things she knows they need to talk about. Things she’s kept back from him. The ghost of her night with Wyatt hovers over her shoulder, reminding her what happened the last time she gave into her desire for someone. And there is the whole… matter of her family to consider, the truth she’s too scared to tell him.

But Flynn is warm and solid around her, and he plays with her hair as she nestles against him, and hums off-key under his breath, and she’s so tired, and she just wants to hold onto this with him as long as she can.

Even if she knows that they will, in fact, have to talk about what they are to each other, and about what they might feel. Even if she knows she’s sort of running on borrowed time.

Instead for now she sleeps, sleeps in his arms and feels like she’s not alone.

[raptorginger]

Samhain: Chapter 4 - Beltane

for @reysexualkylo

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

When Rey woke up the next morning, she was alone in her bed.  She sat up, bending her knees, and rubbed her hands over her face.  This was getting ridiculous.  She felt like she was going crazy.  These interactions with Ben, few that they were, seemed like so much more than dreams.  But that’s impossible, Rey told herself.

“Thank God it’s Saturday,” Rey muttered as she dragged herself out of bed to make her morning cup of tea and eat some toast.  She rarely had a Saturday off.  Dusty followed, stretching along the way.  Opening the cupboard where she kept her tea things, Rey was dismayed to discover that she only had one tea bag left.  She groaned.  Rey opened her fridge to see if it was in the same state as her tea cabinet, that is to say, empty.  

“Goddammit,” she swore.  All that was in there was a suspicious looking container of leftovers from eons past and a box of baking soda, plus the remains of what at one point had probably been carrots.  She’d have to drag herself to the grocery store today.  

“So much for a lazy Saturday,” she muttered, slamming the fridge closed.  She’d been looking forward to lying around on the different flat surfaces of her house - couch, bed, couch again.  Maybe cleaning a little if she felt ambitious.  Maybe thinking about Ben.  Just a little bit.  Not too much.  Was it wrong to fantasize about a guy you’d only seen in dreams?  Rey wasn’t sure, and she didn’t particularly care.  She wasn’t even one hundred percent sure he was real, so what did it matter anyway?

As her kettle heated, Rey stomped back to her bedroom and tugged on a pair of jeans she plucked from the floor of her closet.  Glancing out her window as she fastened her bra, Rey saw the sun shining brightly, making everything look more alive.  At least it’s nice out.  It looked warm outside, so she chose to forego a sweater and slipped on a grey long sleeve t-shirt instead.  She poured her tea into a clean Yeti tumbler, tugged on a pair of black rainboots, and headed out.

***

After filling her cart with a mix of necessary things like tea, meat, fruits, and vegetables, as well as some unnecessary things like three bottles of nail polish, a set of sheets, and a couple of chocolate bars, Rey navigated through the throngs of Saturday shoppers to the checkout lanes.  She looked around for her favorite cashier - a friendly grandmotherly type woman who always slipped a sucker into one of Rey’s bags.  She made small talk with the cashier, Mona, as she rang up her order, shoved her card in the chip reader, and waited for it to angrily beep at her when it was done.

“Have a nice day, Hun!” Mona called as Rey made her way out of the lane.

Rey flipped her a wave and replied in her cheeriest voice, “You too!”  

Rey heaved a sigh, leaning heavily on her cart as she wheeled the rickety thing out to her car.  She hated grocery shopping on Saturdays.  The crowds overwhelmed her, more so lately.  It was like she could feel the emotions of others wrapping around her, suffocating her.  Their thoughts screamed at her like the forced laughs of a million art house movie patrons.  Rey tried her best to shut it all out, but it always made her tired.  She tucked her bags carefully in the trunk of her car and made sure to place her cold things in the insulated tote she kept there.  As she was zipping the tote shut, she felt a cold prickle on the back of her neck.  Rey rubbed the skin roughly as she slammed the trunk shut, looking behind her quickly.  She paled when she saw three men staring at her.  They flicked their cigarettes to the ground and pushed off the car they were leaning on, stalking towards her.  Rey turned and made a dash for the driver’s side door, but yelped when one of them appeared in front of her, holding it closed.

“Going somewhere?” he hissed, his mouth twisted in a strange facsimile of a smile.

Rey panicked.  Something was...off about this guy.  His eyes were black as pitch and his teeth looked like they’d been sharpened into points.  Rey looked around desperately, but she saw no one paying them any attention, which again struck her as odd.  Three creepy guys sneak up on a woman in a crowded supermarket parking lot and no one notices?  What the fuck?  Rey frowned, realizing the people close by appeared blurry, as if they were on the other side of some bubble.

“Oh don’t worry, no one’s going to bother us.  We just wanted to have a little chat,” the man in front of her said.  His voice was strange, sibilant and hissing.  Rey looked over her shoulder and saw the other two keeping a short distance  behind them, arms crossed.

“Yeah?” Rey said defiantly, crossing her own arms.  She felt prickles of energy in her fingers, and she rubbed her fingertips together surreptitiously, focusing on that energy.  She felt it grow, almost solidify, until she could wrap her hand around it like a baseball.

“You were very rude to our master yesterday.  He wanted us to teach you a lesson,” said the hissing man, licking his lips.  Rey blinked a couple times in shock.  His tongue was forked like a snake’s.

“That prick in the parking lot?  Tell him he can fuck right the hell off,” Rey snarled.  In one flash of movement, she unfolded her arms and threw her hand out, releasing the energy she’d felt building there.  She watched in shock as what appeared to be a ball of blue electrical energy shot forward from her hand and hit the hissing man straight between the eyes.  He screamed in pain and collapsed on the ground, hissing and writhing as the electricity tore through him.  Rey whirled around to face the other two, clenching her fists at her sides.  She felt two more balls of energy form, and she threw one at each of the other men, hitting both square in the chest.  Each collapsed on the ground with a groan.

Rey was breathing heavily, staring the men on the ground around her, and wondered what in the hell had just happened when a fourth man stepped out from behind a massive black truck.  Rey looked up and recognized the prick from the parking lot.  He looked enraged as he ran towards her.  She snarled in anger.  This was NOT how her Saturday was supposed to go.  She felt the energy pulse in her fists again, and this time she brought them together before thrusting her hands out causing a much larger burst of energy.  It hit the man square in the gut, and he collapsed, groaning in pain.

“You didn’t tell us she was a fucking wytch, you asshole!” the snake man screamed.

Rey whirled around to him and shouted, “What the fuck did you just say!?”

The man hissed up at her and tried to get to his feet.  Rey kicked him in the temple.  Hard.  He groaned and stopped moving.

“Rey!” cried a familiar voice.

Rey looked up, startled to see Poe and Finn running through the bubble towards her.  Finn jumped over the pair of men on the ground and grabbed Rey’s shoulders, giving her a slight shake.  “Are you okay?”

Rey ignored Finn and watched as Poe knocked out the one they called ‘master’ and tossed him in the back of the truck.

He dusted his hands exaggeratedly and smiled at Rey.  “You probably have questions,” he stated.

Rey could only stare with her mouth hanging open.

“Please get in your car,” Finn urged.  “Follow us.  We’ll take you to a place you can get some answers.”

“I am not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck that was and how you seem to know about it,” Rey shouted, pointing at the men still on the ground.

“We saw the shadow field and came to help, but you seemed to have things well in hand,” Poe said genially.

“They’re Abyss servants,” Finn added, like that was supposed to help.

“Why did that one call me a wytch?” Rey asked, ignoring Finn’s comment for the moment.

“Because that’s what you are,” Finn answered gently.  He looked at Poe, worry written on his features.  

“Rey, please follow us.  Maz can help explain things,” Poe insisted.

“Wait, the little old lady who runs the New Age store?”

“Yeah,” both men said.

Rey nodded slowly.  “Okay.  Okay.  I could use some answers.”

***

Rey sat shell shocked in the dimly lit store as Maz poured her another cup of tea.  Maz was saying something in her melodious voice, but Rey couldn’t hear through the blood rushing in her ears.  Something about Celestials and demons, Dol Arrah and the Abyss.  The struggle of Good and Evil.  Rey brought the delicate porcelain cup to her lips and took a sip.  The brew was herbal and earthy.  Rey felt herself relax a little bit.  Poe was pacing around the dark backroom, unable to keep still for even a moment.  Finn was sitting across from her, concern on his brow.

“So that’s the gist of it, Child.  The battle between Good and Evil isn’t just a metaphorical one,” Maz said solemnly.  

“One of the guys who attacked me called me a ‘wytch,’” Rey said softly.  “What does that mean?”

Maz gave Rey a small smile.  “It means that you are a powerful magic user.  Wytches are those who have the ancient magic in their blood.  It’s rare to see nowadays, and it usually manifests much earlier, but something awakened the magic inside you.”  Maz took Rey’s hand and frowned slightly.  “It’s growing quickly.”

“What does that mean?” Rey asked, unable to keep the tremor of fear from her voice.

Maz looked into Rey’s hazel eyes sympathetically.  “I’m not sure exactly.  But, I think something is coming.”

Poe stopped his pacing.  “Maz, you don’t think..?  The Prophecy?”

Maz sighed and looked at Poe.  “I don’t know.  It could be.”

Rey felt a weight closing in around her, heavy and suffocating.  She jumped up, knocking her chair over behind her.  Finn, Maz, and Poe all looked up at her, concerned.  “I’m sorry, I need to go,” she said, louder than she meant to as she ran from the room.  

She was halfway through the shop before Poe caught up with her.  He touched her arm gently, stopping her.

“Poe, I think I need some time off,” Rey whispered shakily.

“No shit, you think?” Poe said jovially.  That was something Rey always loved about Poe; nothing seemed to phase him.  It helped her stay calm.  “Take all the time you need, Rey.  Your job’ll be here when you get back.  Take some time, get away.  Meditate or do yoga or some shit.  This is a lot to process.  Finn ‘n me have been there.”

“Thanks, Boss.  I think my neighbor Luke has a cabin out east.  Maybe I’ll see if he’ll let me use it,” Rey said, wiping her cheek.

Something knowing twinkled in Poe’s eyes.  “I’m sure he will.”

***

The first thing Rey did when she got home was put away her groceries.  She felt like a robot while she did it, going through the motions but not really feeling them.  She gave Dusty a few treats and watched him gobble them up.  On impulse, she picked him up when he was done, nuzzling into his long soft fur.  Surprisingly, the animal gave no protest, and he snuggled happily against her chest, purring loudly.  Comforted, Rey carried Dusty with her as she walked the short distance to Luke’s house.  Just as she was reaching for the doorbell, the door opened, and Rey was looking into Luke’s clear blue eyes.

“Hey, Kiddo,” Luke said wearily.  He looked tired, Rey noted.  She wondered if it was old age or if he knew about the apparent centuries long war between Good and Evil.

“Hey, Neighbor.  Umm, I was wondering.  My boss at the shop has given me some time off, and I was wondering, do you still have that cabin out east?” Rey asked hesitantly.

Luke’s eyes brightened a smidgen.  “Yeah I do.  You want to use it?”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Rey said, trying to shrug slightly with Dusty in her arms.

Luke waved his hands.  “No! No trouble at all!  Let me find the key and write down the address.  Hang on.”  

Leaving his door open, Luke disappeared into the house.  Rey waited politely on his porch for him to come back, listening to the sounds of him rummaging around in his kitchen.

“Ah-ha!” Rey heard Luke cry triumphantly.  He was back in a few short seconds, holding the key and a slip of paper out to her.  Rey took it with some difficulty, her arms currently full of sleeping cat, and put it in her pocket.

“Thanks, Luke,” she said gratefully.

“No problem!  Stay as long as you want.  It’s got heat and water, Internet, all that.  My sister or nephew checks on it every once in a while for me, so it should be in good shape.”

“I didn’t know you had a nephew.”

Rey heard a beeping sound from somewhere inside, maybe an oven timer.  “Uhh, yeah.  Hey, gotta go.  Enjoy your vacation!” Luke said as he closed his door, essentially giving Rey the brush off.

“Thanks,” Rey said to the closed door.  “God, he’s weird,” she muttered to Dusty as she walked back to her house.

She opened and closed her front door quietly and carried Dusty to her room, settling him gently amidst the blankets on her bed.  She took the key and paper out of her pocket and went to her laptop, put the address in Google Maps, and began planning her trip.  Luke’s cabin was on the edge of Acadia National Forest on an island off the coast of Maine.  Rey figured that was about as far away from her problems as she could get.  She spent the rest of her day making lists, packing a couple duffle bags with cool and warm weather clothes, and digging Dusty’s travel carrier out of storage.  She notified the Post Office to have her mail forwarded, and dropped off the perishable groceries she’d just bought at Finn and Poe’s.

“Be careful Rey,” Finn admonished as she was about to leave.

“I will, Finn,” Rey said, grateful for her friend’s concern.

“Do you have any kind of protection or anything?” he asked.

“Of course!  I’ve got my Walther PPK and a .22 packed already.  You know what a cautious girl I am,” Rey reassured him.

Finn breathed a sigh of relief.  “Oh! Take this,” he said, pulling something from around his neck.  It was a pentagram on a long silver chain.  “Please,” Finn urged.

Rey raised a brow, a bit skeptical, but she took the charm anyway, draping it around her neck.  It did make her feel a little better.  “Thanks, Finn,” she murmured.

“Take these too,” Poe added as he came up from the basement.  He held two boxes out to Rey, which she took gingerly.  They were heavy, and she opened one.  

“Really?  Silver bullets?” Rey laughed.

“You never know,” Poe said.  Rey stopped laughing at his grave tone.

“Thanks, guys.  Really,” she said appreciatively.  

Finn and Poe waved goodbye from their porch as she pulled out of their drive, and Rey got a funny feeling that she wouldn’t be seeing them for a while.  She shook the feeling off and drove home, wanting to get to bed early.  She needed to be well rested for the journey tomorrow.

***

Rey ate a light dinner and lounged in front of her TV in shorts and an oversized sweatshirt with Dusty on her stomach.  She idly stroked his soft fur, allowing her eyes to drift closed.  She waded through the darkness in her mind, seeking the thread that connected her to Ben, almost on impulse.  Dusty gave a mewp of protest and hopped off, scampering to her bedroom.  

Rey reached out with her mind, touching the thread.  Warmth and electricity flowed through her, and she sighed, enjoying the security the feeling brought her.  Another sensation followed on its heels, this one rougher, more insistent, as it shot straight to her core.  

“Rey?  Now isn’t a good time,” she heard Ben say.  His voice started soft, as if he was far away, but grew louder, clearer as he spoke.

“Why not?” Rey whispered, as her sensitive nerves began to throb.  She opened her eyes and found herself looking up into Ben’s from where she was lying beneath him.  His pupils were dilated to pools of black.  Rey gasped at the hardness pressed against her stomach.

“Because I don’t know if you’ll like what I was just thinking about doing to you,” Ben whispered to her darkly.

[space-lions-and-imagines]

A Very Merry Voltron Valentine’s ft. Pidge

Alternate title: Lance is a little instigating shit and pidge is a huge sappy nerd

A/N this was done with literally no editing or beta so mistakes be damned! Take my trash and do what you will with it lol

~1900 words

“There is no capitalism in space Lance,” Pidge said with a roll of her eyes as she tried to find the perfect ratio of alien ingredients to make the brown sludge in her cup taste like coffee. “And even if we were on Earth I would still try to fight the good fight against corporate schemes that disguise themselves as holidays. Its evil to try and trademark love,” she said pushing herself onto the counter and taking a long sip. Still terrible but if it was giving her at least some sort of buzz so worth it for the time being.

Nothing, however, was worth seeing that horrible ‘I know something you don’t know’ look that Lance wore so proudly. Pidge frowned, tapping her fingers against the ceramic mug trying her hardest to not ask. Asking would mean giving in and admitting she was curious in whatever gossip he had. Even if she was dying to know why he even brought up the subject of Valentine’s Day she didn’t want to feed into his teenage soap opera ways. Lucky for her though he wasn’t very good at keeping things to himself.

“That is very noble. I’m sure you must have been very popular amongst all your tech nerd buddies who also never had dates. But things are different now pidge! You do have a date and maybe they don’t share the same fight the system inclinations you do,” Lance said with what he must have thought was a very casual wave of his hand as he leaned on the counter opposite Pidge “But if you don’t care that s/o got you something well then that’s none of my business,” he continued looking down to pick at his nails.

Pidge’s first thought was that with the right forward momentum she could easily knock Lance to the floor and force him to tell everything he knew about the gift. Of course that’s probably what he wanted judging by his eyebrows lost somewhere in his hairline and toothy smile. So instead she cleared her throat and said “I have to go. Right now. Immediately. And you still can’t pressure me into this …. No matter what may happen in the future know that you had nothing to do with it!” as she ran out of the kitchen.

Pidge’s time off was supposed to be spent working on some personal projects, mostly working on some of her language courses before the castle started beeping at her and projecting holographic reminders in her room. Now she was desperately trying to figure out exactly what romance was even supposed to be. She had visions of hearts and fat babies with bows dancing around her head as she tried to remember what Valentines was like back home. She groaned, pulling at her hair and slumping onto her bed. “Sure Pidge you’re suuuuuuch a genius. Alien tech, no problem. Giant lion weapon system, no problem. Get your date mate a nice present and suddenly I’m as intelligent as a snail. Ugh no … that’s an insult to snails!” she mumbled grabbing a pillow to scream into.

She did nothing but simmer like that for a long time, the wheels turning and turning in her head to the point she was sure there was smoke coming out of her ears. Then suddenly she sat up right, the fire moving from her brain to her eyes. “I’ve been looking at this all wrong. I can’t figure this out the way Lance would. I have to solve it my way. Besides my way is going to end up being much more efficient and not only help myself but all other romantically troubled people to come!” she announced to her audience of scattered tools and crushed energy drink cans before setting to her new task: finding the scientific solution to the perfect Valentine’s Day.

It was at best a show of her dedication to s/o but at its worst, and somewhere a little closer to the truth, it looked like a conspiracy theorist wall. Pictures and words taped to the wall with multicolored string creating a makeshift obstacle course. Several people had tried to come check on her only to look at the mess, decide it wasn't their problem and walk right back out. Even s/o had been warned about Pidge’s strange project and hadn’t been around except to leave snacks and the occasional ‘remember to drink lots of water!’ note. At long, long last though she was certain that she had the key. A fool proof plan she had gotten all of the details perfected at three o’clock in the morning.

Well almost perfect, she had neglected one detail in her pursuit of scientifically backed romance; she had absolutely no idea where to get any of it. They were currently trying to lay low which meant there was no guarantee of the next time they would be going off ship. The only option she had was to work with what was around the castle … it was going to be a long day.

~*~

Pidge had looked rough before, forgetting to sleep for a couple days could do that but it was nothing compared to how she looked and felt now. It seemed like it was just disaster after another, she tried to not think of it as a metaphor for her life. First it was the flowers, a classic and what she assumed would be the easiest considering Allura had a greenhouse tucked away in the upper stories of the castle. Pidge had found the most appealing colors and shapes, trying to match those she knew from Earth, to create the ultimate bouquet. It was going great until she broke into a rainbow of rashes in some equally as colorful places on her body. That dream was quickly squashed.

Pidge thought that at least she could have a nice dinner and some chocolates to give to s/o, Hunk was a sap for that mushy kind of stuff. Heck he had been making everything heart shaped for month in preparation for the big day! Yet Pidge had all but been laughed out when she brought her requested menu. “Dude I would love to help you and I can do what I can buuuuut this is not Earth. I don’t have anything that’s even close to, what was it you wanted steak? Really, steak? And truffles? Oh man I wish I had access to some chocolate! It’s a nice thought but the best I can do is like a trio of space goo,” Hunk said before Pidge kicked that damned goo machine and left.

The rest of her tasks when just about the same. The closest thing to a stuffed animal she found was the training robots. The shiniest thing she could find to try and make jewelry was scraps of galra tech which just seemed ominous. She had managed to blow up something resembling a balloon but discovered whatever gas she used was very unstable finally leaving her empty handed and half an eyebrow short.

She trudged back to her room late into the night, worse for the ware and completely down in spirits. “This is what I get for turning my back on my morals, karma apparently works over time in space,” she snorted as she belly flopped onto the bed wondering if she suffocated in the sheets if she would be allowed out of the Valentine’s celebrations that she was sure Lance had planned for later the next day. She was perfectly willing to wallow in her own sadness until she was dragged out to see what amazing thing s/o had gotten her when suddenly there was a knock on the door.

Her heart fluttered, knowing who it had to be but almost hoping that it wasn’t. The soft footsteps could only belong to one person and despite the fact nothing was going right Pidge was happy to hear them. After all the trouble and disappointment they were the only person she could think of that she would want to be around. Even if she had nothing to give in return. “Hey there stranger, I didn’t realize we had someone new living in the castle. I have heard a ghost has been roaming as of late though,” they teased as they sat on the edge of the bed with legs crisscrossed. “I did try ghost hunting but haven’t had much luck …. Ya know I missed you Pidge,” they added with quiet sincerity.

It wasn’t posed as a question or even with the air of sad guilt for which Pidge was eternally grateful. It was something she appreciated with their relationship; there was never any need to explain her weird habits until she was ready to talk. “Im a weirdo who doesn’t deserve your patience but I will selfishly accept it,” Pidge said slumping and twisting around until her head was resting in their lap, her arms hugging their waist. “But good news is ghostbusters have stopped by and eliminated all ghosts. I’m back to being my usual annoying goblin of a person,” she said grinning up at them.

“Mmm you are definitely more of a troll but whatever you decide to be, as long as you’re mine again, I’m happy~” they cooed down at her, rubbing her arm and bending down to kiss the top of her head. Pidge gave a content sigh and wanted to bury herself in this moment, get lost in the warmth and serenity of being reunited with them. “Aaaaaaan because you’re mine I kinda got you something. Lance has been on my case about Valentine’s Day, which I personally think is a sort of emotional cop out but I couldn’t resist a chance at arts and crafts,” they grinned, gently scooching Pidge over to reach for something in their pocket.

Pidge expected to be a nervous wreck, feeling so low that she would want to puke but she instead found herself actually anxious to see what it was. The earlier disdain of not being able to make a perfect gift a shadow in the back of her mind, almost laughable in that moment. She held out her hand to accept what she now saw was a card, pushing herself up to get a better view of what it said. On the front there was a cartoonish picture of a galaxy, stars and planets dotting the shimmery blue paper, and bubble letters that read ‘Are you stuck in space Valentine?’ then opened up to a very crude sketch of what was undeniably a butt surrounded by all capital letters in harsh red print ‘BECAUSE THAT ASS IS OUT OF THIS WORLD.’

There was silence for a minute, while s/o sat biting their lip, opening their mouth stuttering about how they weren’t a great artist and that she didn’t have to like it she just thought the joke was funny but they could totally forget the whole thing. Only shutting up when Pidge crashed her lips against their own, laughing into the kiss so hard they seemed to be vibrating against each other, tears wetting their cheeks before they pulled away gasping for air while the last fit of giggles left their systems.

“This is perfect. You’re perfect,” Pidge said, arms wrapped around s/o’s neck with her forehead resting against theirs. They giggled again and kissed the tip of her nose “Only cause I have someone to be perfect for,” they replied with another smile which Pidge happily returned. Again she didn’t deserve someone this amazing but she wouldn’t want anything else.

[wittystiles]

The Bluff || Part Three || Mitch Rapp

author: wittystiles

title: Chapter Two

Word Count: 3k+

Chapter Summary: The first stage of the plan goes into affect. Reader and the arms dealer are both introduced to Mitch Rapp for the first time, and things get a little interesting. 

Warnings: Cursing (i think, probably). Violence (a fight). Mentions of drugs (in a weird way????)

A/N: Thank you to my wifey @ellie-bee242, again, for reading this over. And thank you to @cathobs for loving this story and giving me some much needed wonderful feedback. You’re incredible. 

(Y/N) woke up with a groan, her eyes feeling heavy and her mouth dry as a bone. She blinked slowly a few times, her eyes adjusting to the light pouring in from the wall of windows facing the sun. She winced looking directly at the sun on accident, turning her head to the other side. She had a pounding headache that was throbbing with every small movement.

“Sonovabitch,” she whispered to herself. She realized she was on a bed, figuring she had passed out after Stan had beaten and stabbed her. She looked around trying to see if Stan and Irene were still in the room.

Quickly, she came to notice she wasn’t in the same room she had fallen asleep in. Her heart picked up speed, pounding in her chest with fright. “Hello?” She called out, attempting to sit up, her body sore and her shoulder sending shooting pain up her arm in response. She looked at her shoulder and then her hands. They were tied together with a necktie to the headboard above her, her muscles sore and tired from being in the same position for what she assumed was hours.

“What the fuck is going on?” She grumbled, her mind working slowly. “What the fuck was in those pills?” She spoke aloud. She could tell her speech was slower than normal. She blinked slowly again, her eyes feeling just as heavy as they had when she’d fallen asleep. How long had she been out?

The other agent from earlier walked into the room then, holding a cup of water. “Hello, (Y/N).” He said in a gruff voice.

“Untie me,” (Y/N) said limply tugging at the necktie around her wrist.

“Can’t,” the agent said.

What was his name again? (Y/N) thought to herself, racking her brain. She was sure she’d been told before. Aaron? Alex? Andrew?

“I’m Anton,” the gruff voiced agent said. “Arms dealer, remember?”

(Y/N) nodded.

“Drink up.” Anton said, holding the cup to (Y/N)’s lips. She parted them and started taking long swallows of the offered water. She made grunting noises when she had her fill, her mouth feeling less dry than it had when she woke up. The water had tasted tangy, and her tongue felt a little numb.

“What was that?” She asked.

“Water.” Anton replied, setting the cup down beside her. “Stan and Irene had me change you.” He indicated her body which was now dressed in a dark blue, button up shirt and a pair of underwear. “Where’s my bra?” She asked, glaring at him.

“It was discarded for you.” Anton answered matter-of-factly.

(Y/N) went to kick him but felt like her limbs had been tied down to weights. Instead, she settled for giving him a fierce glare. “What the fuck do you mean you discarded it for me, Anton?” Her voice sounded softer than she wanted, but she knew it got the point across.

“It does not matter, (Y/N). Just concern yourself with not struggling too much, you don’t want to aggravate your wound. Do you?”

She shook her head. She was feeling too tired to continue to talk. Anton filled the space where her voice should have been.

“Irene and Stan have instructed me on how to get out of here. Unfortunately, I have been told, I am to leave you here. Apparently the other agent, the one whom we are tricking, is supposed to find you in this condition. I am sure you are aware of that. Correct?”

(Y/N) half shrugged.

“He should be here shortly,” Anton continued, offering (Y/N) some more water. She took a few more sips before he replaced it to the nightstand. “Will you be able to follow through with this or should I call Stan and Irene and tell them that you aren’t cut out for your assignment?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath and clenched her jaw. It took her a second to speak, her head was feeling foggier than earlier. “I’ll be fine.” She said confidently.

Anton nodded, looking like he didn’t believe her. “Sure, (Y/N). Sure.” He patted her knee which sent an uncomfortable shiver up her spine. She was quick to move it away from his hand.

“Don’t touch me,” She ordered. (Y/N)’s head fell back against the pillow again and her eyes threatened to close. “Don’t touch me.” She repeated, her voice weak.

She couldn’t make out his response as she slipped back under.

The sound of a fight outside of the bedroom woke (Y/N) up, her eyes snapping open. She lifted her head from the pillow, groaning at the abrupt movement. She felt like this was familiar, sans the altercation she could hear in the other room. Her throat was drier than her mouth felt, and speaking came hard but she managed to call out a weak “who’s there?”

Grunting and thudding were all she could hear in response. She was sure she heard a glass of some sort break and a man howl in pain. She strained her neck trying to lean her head more to be able to hear more of the fight. “Hello?” She hoarsely called out.

The sound of wood splintering answered her, and she tugged at the necktie around her wrists in an attempt to get free. The movement made her whine in pain, her shoulder giving a scream of pain in response. She took a moment to remember that she’d been stabbed, her stomach doing a flip.

“HELLO!” She called louder, wriggling her hands and wrists against the necktie. “Someone help me!” She called in a near sob. “Please.” A voice shouted something and she jumped at the sound of a gunshot. Her heart dropped at the sound, her mind wondering if Anton was alright. She heard the sound of glass breaking again, and the sound of two men grunt in pain before footsteps retreated from the room. Her heart was pounding faster than she thought possible, and she felt absolutely helpless. Lying half naked and tied to the bed, she knew if something went wrong she would be screwed. Metaphorically.

A minute or two passed without a noise when suddenly the door to the bedroom smashed open with a bang.

A shaggy haired brunette walked in, gun raised and poised on her. Her breath caught in her throat, her mind taking a second to process the sight in front of her. The mans lip was bloody and he had a bruise already forming on his nose.

His eyes scanned over (Y/N), realizing that she wasn’t an immediate threat. He checked the room, making sure it was clear before he lowered his gun.

The man walked over to her, looking over her again. “What’s your name?” He asked.

“(Y/N),” (Y/N) responded. She dragged her eyes over the man’s face, recognizing him as the man from the file. “You’re gorgeous.” She found herself saying in a slow voice. She shook her head and groaned in pain. She was tired still, but that didn’t stop her head from pounding.

His eyebrows furrowed, “and you’re obviously drugged.”

(Y/N) found herself nodding her head at his statement, “I’m agreeing.”

His face pinched up in a confused sort of smile and he exhaled what was probably his gruff version of a chuckle, “yeah. Usually that’s what you’re doing when you’re nodding. Let me untie you. Are you hurt, aside from your obvious facial beating?”

She nodded again, her head still rattling with pain. “Yes,” she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as if she needed to think of what had happened to her. The man couldn’t help but acknowledge that it was an alluring move. “My shoulder. It’s killing me.” She acknowledged. “Think I was stabbed, maybe? Probably. Or the fire is just from this position. Dunno.”

The man sighed, carefully pulling the neck of the button down she wore to the side to be able to see her shoulder better. He saw the inflamed wound, which had luckily stopped bleeding. “I need to get you out of here.”

“Wait!” She tried to shriek when he went to untie her hands. Her voice however out as a dull whine instead. “What’s your name first?” She asked, her eyes hooded.

“Irrelevant.” He responded.

She huffed, “that’s a stupid name. Your parents are awful people.” She leaned her head back to watch him untie her hands but found herself passing out instead.

When he’d been instructed to fly to Paris for a mission involving an arms dealer, Mitch had low hopes of anything going well. Normally, arms dealers always had more artillery than they knew how to use, and they weren’t particularly good shots. However that did not mean they couldn’t cause one hell of a mess and a wicked headache for Mitch the next day.

He’d found the brute sitting in the living area of the hotel room, smoking a cigar and reading what appeared to be a nude magazine. Mitch was less than impressed as he held his weapon poised on the man in the chair opposite him. Mitch was about to make his first inquiry when the heavy ashtray that the man was using sailed past him, thudding hard against the wall behind Mitch.

He automatically sprang into action, firing a shot past the man’s head to disorient him before stepping onto the coffee table between the two, using his right leg to roundhouse his foot against the man’s temple. The man grunted in pain but recovered quickly, snatching Mitch’s foot before it could connect with him again, tugging it back to cause Mitch to fall with a thud against the coffee table.

Mitch rolled himself off of the table, landing on his stomach. He quickly righted himself, raising his hands to block his face, the other man’s fist hitting against Mitch’s forearm. With a quick movement, Mitch launched himself at the other man, grabbing him by the throat, colliding his knee with the man’s stomach knocking the wind out of him instantaneously.

The two stumbled back, Mitch’s hand seizing tighter around the brute’s neck. The man was struggling to breathe as Mitch cut off his airway. Mitch’s free fist connected with the man’s right cheek, causing a cut to form from the abrupt skin on skin contact.

The man brought his hands up and then down hard on Mitch’s forearm, dislodging Mitch’s hand from around his throat. The man took a few stumbling steps backwards before regaining himself, his eyes narrowing and his nostrils flaring at the shaggy haired brunette in front of him. He charged at him, knocking the both of them onto the floor, the full weight of him landing on top of Mitch. He let out a grunt, his knee coming up between the man’s legs to get him to lessen his weight on him. Mitch used the man’s shoulders to push him off, quickly scrambling to his feet. Mitch raised his foot quickly, hitting the man square in the ribs with his foot, as if he were punting a soccer ball down the field. The man let out a loud groan. Mitch delivered another kick, this one knocking the man onto his back.

“Where the hell are the guns?” Mitch asked as he loomed over the man who had now wrapped his arms around his chest in a self hug. The man didn’t respond, simply glaring up at Mitch with hard eyes. Mitch gave another kick, lifting his foot to slam it down against the man’s stomach. The man grunted, grabbing Mitch’s foot with faster reflexes than Mitch was anticipating. Mitch jumped instantly, not giving the man a chance to knock Mitch over, and drove the unheld foot into the man’s pelvis.

The man released Mitch’s foot and he returned to both feet, giving another kick to the man’s side. “Do I have to ask again?” Mitch questioned, his head snapping to the side when he thought, for a fleeting second, that he heard someone else’s voice. The man took this opportunity, while Mitch’s attention was elsewhere for the briefest second, to get to his feet, his chest aching. When Mitch turned his head back round to look at the man, he was met with the man’s fist instead, his jaw instantly aching.

Mitch went to return the blow but was apparently dazed, for his nose was struck next, pain shooting up his head and blooming between his eyes. He shook his head and quickly regained himself, returning the man’s blow with one of his own, this one holding more weight behind it than the ones he had delivered before. He could feel the man’s nose break beneath his fist when it landed.

The man’s head snapped back, and Mitch took that opportunity to force his fist against the man’s throat, causing him to fall to his knees clutching it. Mitch reached beside him and grabbed the lamp, going to smash it against the man’s head but faltering. He dropped it to the floor where it shattered. This time, Mitch was sure he’d heard another voice. He turned the whole of his upper body to face the double doors behind him, where he’d figured the noise had come from, his eyes narrowed.

“Somebody help me, please!” Mitch heard a voice shout from behind the doors. He turned the rest of the way, his jaw clenching. He went to take a step towards the double doors when he heard a door close behind him. The man was gone.

“Fuck me,” Mitch shouted into the empty room. He wanted to go running after him, but his curiosity for what was behind the double doors got the best of him. He found his gun where it had been knocked out of his hands and picked it up, checking the chamber. He fired a shot through the couch in the off chance the man was hiding behind it.

He took a deep breath, checked that his nose wasn’t bleeding, and made his way to the double doors. He lifted his foot, kicking it hard between the handles, and watched the doors burst open. His eyes immediately landed on a woman tied to the bed wearing a button down shirt, and black socks.

He pursed his lips and made quick work of checking the rest of the room, deciding that there wasn’t another threat. He lowered his gun, stuffing it into the back of his jeans to keep it close in case this was a lure. “What’s your name?” Mitch asked taking a few cautious steps towards the bed.

“(Y/N).” She said in a voice that Mitch wasn’t expecting. He watched her drag her eyes over his face, and he thought for a second that she might smile. “You’re gorgeous.” She told him, speaking too slow for him to believe it was how she normally spoke.

Mitch nearly rolled his eyes, his hands moving to rest on his hips. “And you’re obviously drugged,” he looked over at the cup of water on the nightstand, deciding it best to get her a new one to make sure she wasn’t dehydrated.

(Y/N) was nodding her head slowly and for too long, “I’m agreeing.” She said to him, and did what he figured was an attempt to shrug her shoulders which he wasn’t at all convinced she even knew she was doing. Mitch gave her a confused smile, like the kind you’d give to a child when they were being weird but endearing, and huffed out a sort of laugh. “Yeah,” he mused. “Usually that’s what you’re doing when you’re nodding.” He stepped nearer the bed, “let me untie you. Are you hurt, aside from your obvious facial beating?”

He watched her nod again and he narrowed his eyes, trying to decide what could possibly be another affliction she had. “Yes,” she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and Mitch wanted to stare at her mouth but she spoke again. “My shoulder is killing me.”

She took few breaths before she continued, “think I was stabbed, maybe? Probably. Or the fire is just from this position. Dunno.” She attempted to move her hands, but Mitch could tell that it proved too much effort for her drugged body. He took a deep breath in, sighing it out before carefully pulling the neck of her button down to th, e side. He tried hard not to touch her shoulder, not wanting to feel her skin. He was greeted by an inflamed wound, which by the looks of it, had stopped bleeding.p;;

Mitch shook his head, “I need to get you out of here.” He leaned forward to start untying her hands when she attempted to shriek at him, her voice just sounding hoarse.

“Wait,” she fluttered her lashes at him. Mitch would have thought it was an attempt at being flirty, had she not looked like she could pass out at any second. “What’s your name, first?” Her eyes were hooded, she looked on the verge of sleep.

He stifled a smirk, “irrelevant.”

She huffed, managing to open her eyes more to look at him, “that’s a stupid name. Your parents are awful people.”

He shrugged his shoulders and got to work untying her hands, throwing the rope to the floor afterwards. He reached down and touched her face gently with the tips of his fingers, turning her head a bit.

“Great, dead weight.” He took a deep breath and hooked his arm underneath her knees, lifting her legs. His other arm went underneath her shoulder blades and he carefully lifted her from the bed, carrying her out of the room towards the door. He leaned his body down and managed to get the handle turned and the door opened, checking that the coast was clear before walking out into the hotel hallway with her.

She stirred a bit in his arms, and he was afraid for a second that she would come to and freak out. Instead she just cuddled her arms to her chest, seemingly making herself more comfortable in his arms. He used the tip of his shoe to push the down button on the elevator, nearly losing his balance. It took ages to arrive, and he was thankful he wasn’t as weak has he had once been.

Stepping into the elevator, (Y/N) came to a little, looking up at him with half opened eyes. “Where am I?”

“Safe,” Mitch responded, regretting it immediately.

~~

Tags: @ellie-bee242, @redstringlovers, @cathobs, @lovefilledtragedy, @behind-my-hazeleyes27, @skepticalstilinski, @rhyxn, @cat-obrien, @cuillere, @rebeccaannex3, @kaytlinr, @daddyraeken, @apollogirl13, @fuckwhateverfuck, @kalista-rankins, @iloveteenwolf24

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[actual-lich-queen]

The Queen of Cups Chapter 8: The world perishes not from bandits and fires, but from hatred, hostility, and all these petty squabbles. - Chekhov

Varric and Cassandra deal with the East Road Bandits and some of the wider questions of Andraste, the Chantry, and how your story is told.

Read on Ao3

The clouds rolled in the sky over Varric’s head as he squinted at a spot on the horizon, lost in thought. Something about...arrows? Quiet. Quick. In a back alley. Guardsmen shouting, but the bow wasn’t hers…

“Varric, when was your first kill?” Cassandra’s sudden question took him from the mean streets of Kirkwall back to the, quite frankly, boring wilds of Ferelden.

“Why, Seeker? You writing a biography?” Varric gave his most engaging smirk.

“No, I was thinking about Ayla.” Her leather gloves squeaked as she reflexively gripped the handle of her blade, “I had not...considered her situation before I brought her into battle.”

“So you’re asking me?”

“I was simply trying to understand her feelings. But it has been so long since I…”

“Since the first time you took a person’s life.”

“I still remember. They were an apostate and a blood mage.” Cassandra frowned, “Involved in the cult that tried to murder Divine Beatrix.”

“Do you remember how you felt?”

“Angry.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised.” Varric pursed his lips and cocked a brow, “You’re always angry.”

Cassandra grunted.

“They were the ones who had killed Anthony.” She said after a pause.

“That was the business with the dragons, wasn’t it. The story of how you became the Right Hand.”

“You would call it a story.”

“That’s who I am, Seeker.” Varric idly pet Bianca with a finger, “A teller of stories.”

“It was a problem.” Cassandra frowned, “The right choice was obvious. I followed with action. Then I was followed with stories.”

“That’s why you’ve gotta tell your own story. Get ahead of it, before someone else starts telling it wrong.”

“Like your account of the Champion.”

“Exactly. It would have been a mess if I had let Hawke tell it.” Varric’s lips twitched up in an asymmetric smug smile.

“Would the Champion think you are telling their story wrong?” Cassandra’s tone still had the usual brusqueness, but it was tinged with curiosity. It was strange, and made her seem a bit vulnerable in that I-can-still-kick-in-all-your-teeth-without-breaking-a-sweat kind of way.

“Hawke?” Varric scratched his chin, eyeing the Seeker, “I think they like not having to tell the story themselves.  When you’re living your life as a roguish fugitive from Chantry law it helps to have a reputation that precedes you.”

“But what do I know.” He hastily added, “I haven’t seen them since they left Kirkwall.”

“So you’ve said.” Cassandra grunted.

They fell into silence for a time. Varric found himself being absorbed into the scenery. The sun was shining and the air was clear and full of nature sounds. The smell of manure from the nearby farms tickled his nose. That in itself was a strange novelty, coming from the city the idea of a ‘clean shit smell’ was bizarre, but here he was. In the country. The smell of fertilizer in the air. And people thought it was a good thing. It did smell cleaner, somehow, than that distinct odor of darktown, or even the alienage, places in Kirkwall that sewage drained into and never out of. Both literally and metaphorically.

“How would you have told story of the attempted assassination of Divine Beatrix?” Cassandra interrupted his thoughts a second time. Varric looked up at the Seeker. He wondered if this was what she thought friendly conversation was. At least she wasn’t threatening him with anything sharp and pointy. That, at least, was an improvement.

“That depends, what do you want people to get from the story?” He asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Varric settled into a more comfortable position, “Stories can be told for a lot of reasons. To entertain, to teach, to warn, to make people fall in love, or think. What would you want people to do when they heard your story?”

“To not attempt to assassinate the Divine.” Cassandra’s lips pressed into a thin, wide line, “Although it might be too late for such tales.”

“I’m sure whomever the next Divine is would appreciate the effort.”

Cassandra grunted. Varric laughed.

“Alright, Seeker. Don’t get your pauldrons in a twist.” He shook his head, “I’ve only ever heard the bard tales. What’s your side of the story?”

“The blood mages plotted to kill the Divine and were stopped by the Seekers allied with a handful of mages.”

“And the parts about the templars?”

“I would have said that the templars were an honorable order. Undeserving of the shadows cast upon them by the actions of one man.” She frowned, “But in light of recent events, I...have been given doubts about all I believed to be true.”

“Haven’t we all.” He sighed, dragging his eyes to the hole in the sky that loomed like a least favorite aunt at the family dinner.

“You mock me.” Cassandra tensed, “I should not expect sympathy from doubters.”

“You think I don’t have faith, Seeker?” It was Varric's turn to frown.

“I-I thought with your opinions on the Chantry...and your association with Hawke and Anders…” Cassandra stammered.

“I have no faith in the Chantry, that’s true. But in Andraste? In the Maker?” Varric shook his head, “I’ll admit I’ve said my share of prayers.”

“But without the Chantry-”

“Without the Chantry you have a story free of greed and corruption. Without the Chantry, you’ve got a miracle.” He crossed his arms, “You’ve got something to try for. Something to hope to be someday. And even if you wake up waist deep in shit, you remember that you’ve got Andraste in your corner, rooting for you.”

“But the Chantry is the hands and voice of Andraste in the mortal realm.” Cassandra spoke her sentence reflexively. Something she had memorized, repeated, and always taken unexamined as fact.

“Is it?” He shook his head, “And the woman who march on Tevinter to free the slaves, in the company of mages and elves as equals. She would definitely be for in squabbling and politics that the Chantry has made famous.”

“Perhaps not.” Cassandra shifted, uncomfortable, “But perhaps…”

“Perhaps?”

“Perhaps that is why she sent us Ayla.”

“You think she’s really the Herald of Andraste?” Varric felt his eyebrows shoot up so fast he was worried they might fly off into the clouds.

“I am…” Cassandra faltered, “Unsure. But I cannot believe her appearance when we needed hope the most is coincidence.”

“You might have a point there. Time will tell.”

“And...the stories?” Cassandra asked.

“Of course.”

“Stories you tell, Varric?”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll at least have one tall tale to share over drinks when this is all over.” He shrugged, “But I’m no Brother. I’m not sure I should be getting mixed up in this religious shit.”

“That might be the best argument for why you should.”

“I’ll take that under advisement, Seeker.” Movement caught his eye, “I think we’ve finally got company.”

Bandits moved through the brush, almost undetectable, and completely unnoticed by the band of refugees that were making their way towards the crossroads. Just like recruit Belette had warned them. There was the soft whisper of metal and leather as Cassandra drew her sword beside him.

“What’s the plan, Seeker?” Varric cocked Bianca.

“Get their attention. Warn the refugees and distract the bandits so that I can get in amongst them.” Cassandra’s eyes were fixed on their target.

“I like everything about it except that I’m the distraction.”

“Varric.” Cassandra warned.

“I know, I know. Better me than the refugees. Fine.” Varric nodded at Cassandra to indicate he was ready.

The Seeker stalked off like a cat. Cassandra may be stilted and awkward in most social situations but on the battlefield? Pure poetry. He counted to three under his breath to give her a chance to get into position.

“Any blighters out there want a kiss from Bianca?” Varric yelled, standing up from where he’d been hiding in the brush.

The refugees froze and looked at him, confused. Varric fired off a shot into a clump of grasses hiding a bandit. There was a scream cut off by a wet thud. A few of the refugees looked to the grass, then back at him.

“You might want to think about running.” Varric answered their questioning stares before firing off a few more shots.

The bandits seemed to figure out what was going on the same time as the refugees and exploded onto the road as if they were propelled by a repulsion glyph. The refugees managed to get over their stunned druffalo act and started running.

He squeezed Bianca’s trigger, one, two, three more times. Bolts blossomed in fields of red in the chests of two more bandits. The third crumpled to the ground with the arrow piercing his knee. Those that remained of the bandits began focusing their attack on him.

This was a mistake as Cassandra emerged behind them, thrusting her sword clear through the chest of one, placing her boot on their back and kicking them off the blade as she turned and yelled who’s face became a mask of terror. The fight from that point was brief as he and Cassandra made short work of the bandits.

“I don’t think these were amateurs.” Varric toed a corpse, “Desperate and dumb usually doesn’t have access to good armor.”

“Agreed.” Cassandra knelt by a corpse, methodically going through their pockets, “We should ascertain their true purpose.”

They spent a few moments in silence, searching the dead bodies for clues. Varric took the opportunity to pocket anything he thought might be useful later. It was grisly, but you never knew when you’d next have the opportunity to replenish your bolts or stumble into the Deep Roads. The latter happened to him with astonishingly high regularity that at this point stealing health potions from dead bodies was less ‘morally grey’ and more ‘practical mindset’. One of the bandit’s pockets turned up an illuminating scrap of paper.

“Better take a look at this, Seeker.” He called out to Cassandra. She stood up, dusting off her knees and walked over to him, taking the note from his hand. She grunted when she finished reading it.

“Looks like someone’s bankrolling mercenaries to scare off potential witnesses.” Varric rubbed his jaw.

“Who would do such a thing?” Cassandra snarled.

“I’m more curious as to why. Maybe we should check out this villa the note mentions.”

“That is what I was thinking.” She started marching up the road in the direction the letter had indicated. Maker help any mercenaries they encountered on the way.

[joecasualnerd]

Number 9: Jail Break

Getting this one out a bit late because I had some holiday stuff to take care of.

Such is the season after all, but it’s that time of year where we have to put on airs of happiness while we stealthily try to get the point across that we don’t want any lavish gifts and a gift card would be just fine.

At least that’s me.

My personal holiday struggles aside, welcome back to the 25 Days of Stevenmas (name pending) where today I’ll be covering Season One Episode Fifty-Two, the Season One Finale, Jail Break.

Premise

The episode begins with Steven hearing a melodious voice echoing around the halls of the hand ship, and he immediately wakes up.

He sees that he is inside a cell, then he remembers seeing two Gems fall to the ground, suddenly remembering that Garnet split apart in a terrifying scene last episode.

He pokes the cell door, which is a wall of light, and he realizes that he can pass through the cell no problem. Well there is a slight tickling sensation, but that’s a common side effect as I’m told.

He runs around and passes by a red Gem, who has her head in her hands.

This red Gem, who is at first angry that Steven noticed her, realizes that he managed to escape. Steven sets the red Gem free after she hear the singing voice and whispering “Sapphire.”

The red Gem runs off in search of Sapphire and when she thinks that she notices her, she realizes that it’s Lapis. Steven starts talking to Lapis while the red Gem runs off on her own.

Lapis says that Steven should just give up, but Steven says that he must look for his friends. Steven promises Lapis that he’ll come back for her and runs off to look for the red Gem.

In a nearby hallway Steven hears the footsteps and conversation between Jasper and Peridot. Jasper tells the singing Gem to stop singing.

She stops Peridot from talking about why they were on Earth in the first place and says that Rose Quartz takes priority and to set a course to Homeworld.

When the two Gems are gone, the singing Gem goes back to singing and Steven asks if she is Sapphire, to which she confirms.

Steven breaks her out, and when Sapphire hears the red Gem call out to her, she grabs Steven by the hand and speeds of to find the red Gem, who she calls Ruby.

Ruby asks if Sapphire is hurt, which she says that she’s ok and when Sapphire asks Ruby, she says “Who cares,” to which Sapphire responds, “I do.”

Sapphire kisses Ruby, the two laugh and spin around, fusing to form a very happy Garnet. Steven is amazed at this revelation and asks if he made a good first impression, to which Garnet responds that they already love him.

An angry Jasper can be heard through the halls and Garnet tells Steven to find the others. Steven asks how and Garnet grants him temporary Future Vision, which tells Steven where he needs to go.

Steven asks if Garnet will be ok fighting Jasper alone, and Garnet responds by saying that she’s never alone, to which Steven gives a smile and nod and runs to find Amethyst and Pearl.

Jasper runs in and sees Garnet is fused again, saying that fusion is just a cheap tactic to make weak Gems stronger and says that she knows what Garnet really is.

Garnet chuckles and says that Jasper doesn’t know, and then breaks out into Stronger Than You.

During this fight ballad, the Gems manage to crash the ship by throwing Jasper into the power core and they crash on the mountain hill where the temple is.

Luckily, Steven’s bubble protected them. When Steven once again remarks that Garnet is a fusion, Amethyst and Pearl are shocked to hear this because Garnet had planned to tell Steven on his birthday.

They all have a laugh when Jasper comes out of the debris, saying that the only reason that Garnet won was because she was a fusion, and if she had someone to fuse with she would win. She gets cut off at that last bit because Lapis also ahs survived the crash and attempts to get away, only for Jasper to grab her arm.

Jasper makes a case for her and Lapis to fuse, and after some deliberation, Lapis accepts and the two fuse into an eldritch abomination.

It seems like the Crystal Gems are goners, until the water hand that was going to grab them, grabs the fusion instead. More water grabs the fusion and become chains, dragging the fusion into the water, and Lapis through the fusion declares that she’ll be keeping Jasper prisoner.

After a horrific scream and a moment of stunned silence, Garnet remarks that Lapis and Jasper don’t make a great fusion. Steven then gets a call from Connie, who is very concerned at what happened to Steven, since he called her last episode saying that he might die, ending the episode.

Discussion

There is so much to unpack with this episode, so I’ll start with the obvious, the Garnet is a fusion reveal.

Throughout the series there were hints and clues that Garnet was a fusion, there were fan theories on how she was a fusion and how she wasn’t a fusion.

There was solid evidence for both, and when it was revealed that not only was Garnet a fusion, but that the two component Gems, Ruby and Sapphire, were two Gems who were fused together because they love each other, the fandom lost their mind.

It was one of the biggest moments of the series!

One that made people scream in joy!

And was completely spoiled for me!!!!!!

Yeah, the biggest reveal of the first season was spoiled for me, and it was by my own hands.

When I had first seen a commercial about the show, before the series aired or around the time the series aired, all I thought about it was that it was going to be some dumb Cartoon Network show about a dumb fat kid spouting stupid catchphrases at his mentors.

I was then browsing YouTube and came across a video titled “107 Facts About Steven Universe.”

I remembered my original thoughts about the show and decided to give the video a watch, figuring that there wasn’t going to be anything missed if I watched this video.

At some point the fact that Garnet is a fusion comes up and I was surprised at this. It wasn’t often that you see two female coded characters be explicitly a couple in a show that was primarily aimed towards children.

So, I decided to give the series a shot and here I am today, doing in depth discussions about the show.

I don’t mind spoilers personally, and am actually glad I saw that video, because if it wasn’t for that video then I wouldn’t have expressed any interest in watching the series.

Back to the episode, the scene where Ruby and Sapphire reunite is one of the most adorable moments in the show. They truly love each other, and their dance to become Garnet shows it. They don’t need anything fancy or overtly sexual, they just need to be together and happy, and lo and behold they reform into Garnet.

This leads nicely to Stronger Than You, which is a badass fight ballad. Having Estelle waiting until the finale to do a song was a great choice because not only does it enhance a really awesome fight, but it also adds more to what fusion is.

Fusion is a conversation, and this conversation is not only how Ruby and Sapphire love each other, but also how much that love is gonna kick Jasper’s ass

Speaking of Jasper, let’s talk about the fusion at the end, Malachite as it would be named in Chille Tid.

Lapis, as a character at this point, was very much a beacon that things were changing. In Mirror Gem and Ocean Gem it was the reveal of Lapis and her leaving the planet that kickstarted the Homeworld plot.

In The Message, Lapis managed to get a message to Steven and the Crystal Gems warning them that Homeworld forces were coming.

In The Return, Lapis was revealed to have given Homeworld information about Earth, possibly through torture or some other means.

In Jail Break, we see Lapis becoming proactive in imprisoning Jasper as the unstable fusion, all as a way to get back at all the abuse she has taken throughout her time.

She is a tortured character who wants to get back at her captors and show them what it felt like to be her. I’m not saying that it’s right to imprison your captors against their will just to satisfy your revenge, but I do understand why she did it.

Jasper is a complicated nugget to crack.

She actively rails against fusion, but when she is beat by a fusion she decides that fusion is the only way to win.

Remember when she said that fusion is just a cheap tactic to make weak Gems stronger? Maybe at the end of the episode she sees herself as weak, and throughout the series, those cracks do appear for her character.

Malachite, as a fusion, is a beautiful mess of terror. Six armed and two voices talking at the same time instead of one unique voice and four eyes, Malachite is the definition of a bad fusion.

This episode presents that dichotomy, with the first part of the episode dedicated to a loving fusion of Ruby and Sapphire making the kickass Garnet, and the end of the episode showing a terrifying fusion of Lapis and Jasper making the horrific fusion of Malachite.

It’s almost like seeing the difference between a loving couple and an abusive couple. And the abusive couple metaphor goes even further in Alone at Sea, with Jasper wanting to get back together like an abusive person trying to get back with the ex that they had abused.

A lot of metaphor going on in this episode.

I’ll end it here and give my usual sign off.

Until next time, thanks for reading and have a pleasant time.

Peace.

[writingmask]

Windows to the Soul: Ch. 1 (McHanzo Week 2017 Day 2)

Prompt: Canon Divergence/AU

Rating: Teen and Up (Gore/Violence)

Words: 3657

Summary:  “Please, my brother,” said the man. Jesse drew his gun and bit the inside of his cheek as he realized the man was barely older than him. “My brother,” he repeated, eyes still staring forward, almost past Jesse. Jesse felt trapped by those eyes. They dragged him in, tugging him down into an empty void that pierced his very being. “Please help him. I think he’s dying.”

McCree gets more than he bargained for on a stake-out.

[AO3]

Notes: I didn’t intend this to run so long, but the idea stuck. I’m hoping that I can actually do chapters in this, but for now, this installment will serve as my McHanzo week participation. I know there’s not a lot of actual McHanzo, but it’ll get there eventually.

The estate was quiet. Too quiet thought the lone agent currently on watch duty. So far, the night was shaping up to look like literally every other night. The agent shifted restlessly from his tiny apartment room across the street. He and his fellow Blackwatch agents had been staked outside the Shimada castle for three weeks, and they’d gained nothing.

“Agent McCree, status report.” Jesse nearly fell out of the window he was leaning on as his communicator crackled to life.

“All’s quiet, ‘n’ I’m bored as hell,” he replied. There was an ominous silence on the other end of the line, and after a beat, he added, “Commander.” He could practically hear Reyes’ teeth grinding from here. “Seriously, though. There ain’t nothin’ I can see from here. I don’t se… Hang on, somethin’s up.”

Jesse grabbed his binoculars to get a closer look as a handful sleek, black cars drove up to the gate of the castle. Why was it all these gang-types had black cars? Was it some sort of rule? He wondered what’d happen if one of them dared to drive something more sporty. Maybe they’d get kicked out or something. “Boss, they’re meeting. Looks like all the big bosses are here.”

“Keep me updated. Don’t take any risks.”

“Yessir.” Jesse saluted though he knew perfectly well Reyes couldn’t see him. It annoyed his commander, but it was a hard habit to break. He settled in to actually do his job for once, wishing that they’d actually been able to put some bugs inside the place. As it was, all he could do is glean information from the grounds and hope he’d get lucky.

Unfortunately, luck was never on his side. The men exited their cars and headed straight for what Jesse thought was some sort of shrine. There was a sense of purpose to their walk, so whatever was going down was something big. The last man getting out of his car had a hulking brute of a guard with him, torn sleeves and everything. There was something slung over his shoulder, and when he turned to follow his boss, Jesse gasped as he made out a limp human form.

“Shit they’ve got a hostage,” he breathed. “What do I do?”

“You stay where you are,” came the immediate response. Jesse opened his mouth to argue, but Reyes cut him off. “I’m serious McCree. Wait for backup. We don’t even know who that is. Could be some inner rivalry.”

“Fine,” Jesse grumbled, but Reyes was right. Reyes was usually right. There was a time that Jesse would’ve taken Reyes’ advice and told him where to shove it, but that was about six or seven near-death experiences ago. If Reyes wanted him to wait for backup, he would.

Or at least that was his plan until everything apparently went to hell. Something erupted with a flash of bright, electric-blue light and a near-animalistic roar. That alone was enough to make Jesse bolt upright, but then the screaming began.

Now Jesse had seen a lot of men die. In fact, he’d killed them in the first place. He knew what death screams sounded like. This was worse than anything he’d ever heard before. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as he listened to a chorus of voices scream before being cut short as a single voice ran on and on, raw and harsh with rage and heartbreak. That was a scream Jesse had only heard once in his life, when it’d torn its way straight from his throat. And through it all, the roaring continued, almost in concert with the raging voice.

After what felt like years, everything stopped. The light faded and everything went quiet as the grave. The silence was unnerving after the chaos, and Jesse felt shaken and deaf. Something pounded in his skull, and it took him far too long to realize it was his commander trying to reach him.

“JESSE! REPORT!”

Jesse put his finger to the communicator, swallowing as he gripped his gun with his free hand, trying to will some calm into his stuttering heartbeat. “I-I don’t know, Boss. Something just… I’m gonna check it out.”

“Wait, McCree, we don’t know--”

“Boss, I think someone’s dead. Or hurt.”

Reyes was quiet for a moment, and Jesse thought he was probably working on not trying to metaphorically strangle him until he spoke again. “Alright. But for fuck’s sake be careful. Backup’s on the way.”

“Understood, sir. … Thank you.” And with that, Jesse moved as quickly as he can, practically jumping down the stairs before bolting out the door and across the street. The gate was shut, but there was a tree taller than the wall that just begged to be climbed. A scan across the grounds showed nothing but deathly stillness and a sense of something horribly wrong. The sense grew stronger as Jesse dropped down into the courtyard and nothing immediately shot at him.

He made his way to the shrine as quickly as he could and still technically being stealthy. Urgency or not, he had no interested in gaining another scar from a bullet. Reyes would have his ass on a silver platter if he got hurt again. He paused as he drew close to the building, unease trickling down his back as he saw a lump in a dark pool outside the door. He gulped and took a closer look.

“Aw hell…” he whispered as the metallic scent of blood smacked into his nose. Whatever was in the pool used to be part of a human body wrapped in a grey suit, but he couldn’t tell what it was beyond that. He had not signed on for this. Undercover, semi-illegal taskforce work, sure. But this was way above his paygrade.

Which, of course, is why he couldn’t stop himself from edging into the building.

Fear slammed his heart in his chest as he examined what looked like a scene out of a B-rated carnage horror flick. There was blood splattered everywhere, practically dripping from the ceiling. Body parts littered the floor and-- Oh God was that someone’s ear? How the fuck did an ear get that high up on the wall? Jesse froze with a whimper in his throat. He didn’t want to be here. He wished Reyes or Ana was here, or hell, he’d even take Commander Morrison. They’d be able to handle this. Surely they’d know what to do!

His eyes continued to take in the horrific view, widening further as he realized something he should’ve realized sooner. He wasn’t alone. There was a man sitting on the floor in the middle of the shrine, covered in gore and holding a mostly-intact corpse. At first, Jesse thought the man was dead himself and just frozen in rigor mortis. And then his eyes opened. And stared straight at Jesse. And the corpse in his arms moaned.

“Please, my brother,” said the man. Jesse drew his gun and bit the inside of his cheek as he realized the man was barely older than him. “My brother,” he repeated in a rasping voice, eyes still staring forward, almost past Jesse. Jesse felt trapped by those eyes. They dragged him in, tugging him down into an empty void that pierced his very being. “Please help him. I think he’s dying.” Jesse’s grip on his gun tightened as the Shimada shuddered and cried out before slumping over his brother.

“Oh God…” Jesse’s voice shook as he pressed a hand to his communicator. “Boss… Forget backup. We need a paramedic. Several paramedics.”

oOo

When all was said and done, Jesse knew he’d have nightmares about literally everything. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the Shimada man’s empty, tortured eyes staring straight into what Jesse’s overactive imagination felt was his soul. He’d never seen anyone so… So… Broken. It was as though all the joy those eyes had ever known had faded along with his brother. It was haunting, and Jesse had to force himself to shove it to the back of his mind so he could work.

Backup had arrived with a medical team in tow headed by none other than the actual angel Dr. Angela “Mercy” Ziegler herself. Jesse breathed a huge sigh of relief as he caught sight of her Valkyrie suit’s glow enter the building. She hurried past him with a gasp of shock, headed straight for the passed out duo at the center of the mess. Or at least he hoped they were just unconscious.

He wanted to step forward and offer assistance, but he wasn’t a doctor. Hell, he wasn’t even a high school graduate. There wasn’t much he could do but watch. A hand, heavy and warm clasped his shoulder, startling him and drawing his attention from Mercy ordering her people about far too calmly for such a flurry of activity. Jesse looked up to meet his commander’s face and was filled with a reassurance that Reyes would roll his eyes at if Jesse tried to describe it.

“Report, Agent McCree,” he said, all purpose and professionalism despite the comforting hand on his shoulder and the quiet question in his eyes. Jesse nodded slightly; he was fine. Shaken, but he’d been through worse.

“I was monitoring the Shimada estate, as ordered, sir,” Jesse said, relieved at being able to hide behind a professional mask for a while. “There was a meeting that gathered in a shrine, followed by some sort of explosion. When all went dead--” Poor choice of words, he thought to himself with a wince-- “I went to investigate. And found…” Here he floundered, gesturing around him. “This? Boss, I don’t know what happened, but it was bad. There’s one survivor, maybe two? But…”

Reyes shook his head, squeezing his shoulder. “I get the picture. Stick close; Strike Commander’s on his way, and he’ll want to hear your report as well.” Jesse nodded quietly, for once skipping his opportunity to make a face at the mention of the head of Overwatch. He liked the guy fine, but he seemed way too good to be true. In his experience, someone that perfect had a rotten core in the middle. ‘Course, Reyes would probably have his head if he said that out loud.

Reyes squeezed his shoulder once more before stepping away to converse with Mercy. Jesse took a moment to rest against a pillar outside, turning his back on the crime scene. It was going to be a long night.

Hours and three reports and a flight out of Japan later, Jesse finally staggered into his room back on base, drained beyond all reason. Morrison had been unbelievably gentle about his questioning, and Jesse wondered if that was a usual thing or if he, too, had been subdued by the horror. He’d practically ordered Jesse onto the plane and to get some rest once he’d gotten all he needed. Jesse had almost been too exhausted to catch sight of the indulgent shake of Reyes’ head as he heard that. If he hadn’t been so bone-tired, he’d have wondered at that and why it was usually centered on Jack Morrison.

As it was, it didn’t matter. He was done with thinking and wondering for one night. At least he was too tired to have any nightmares for once, he realized as he sank down into darkness. A silver lining, at least.

oOo

When Jesse awoke the next morning, he felt like the dead. If there was any justice in the world, Reyes would give him the day off. Unfortunately, late nights and busy days were something of a staple in Blackwatch, and so with a groan, he stretched and dragged himself out of bed and got dressed.

There was already a report and set of orders waiting on his tablet when he made his way to the mess hall, which he read over something vaguely resembling oatmeal. The report was more debriefing of the night before, and the orders found him making his way to Reyes’ office for more information in person. Odd, that. Usually his part would’ve been done by now.

He thought about that as he knocked on the commander’s door. Had he done something wrong? Or did they need him to talk about it fresh again? Lord, he hoped not. He was done reliving that awful moment.

The door opened to admit him, and he blinked in surprise as he saw Morrison standing in front of him instead of his boss. Fortunately before his mouth could react and say something stupid, he caught sight of Reyes sitting at the desk with a tablet in front of him.

“Don’t stand there with your jaw hanging open,” Reyes said, with just the barest hint of a smirk on his face. “Come in.”

Jesse brushed passed Morrison with a quiet excuse and stood in front of the desk, feeling for all the world like a kid in the principal’s office. He’d fucked up, insisted a tiny, panicking voice deep inside. That’s why Morrison was here. He’d screwed something royally and he was about to get the boot or sent to prison. He tried his best to stamp out the increasingly hysterical thread of thought before it could show on his face. He must not have succeeded because Reyes rolled his eyes and shook his head as Morrison leaned against the desk beside him.

“You’re not in trouble, kid. Calm down and have a seat.” He pressed a key on his tablet as Jesse complied, and a resulting ding sounded from his pocket. “I’ve just sent you a file, and we need to go over it.”

Jesse pulled the screen out and thumbed over to the file. Inside was a bunch of technical jargon and a photograph of a pair of young men posed together in some sort of Japanese robes. Jesse took an immediate liking to the one with green hair and an impish smile on his face. Now there was someone who knew how to have some fun. Still, he found himself drawn to the second figure, a regal man with haughty features and a wealth of dark hair pulled back into a loose tail. There was a smile on his face, too, though it seemed more tired than joyous. And his eyes… There was something familiar about those eyes and the way they pierced the viewer...

Reyes and Morrison both let him study the picture for a long moment before he realized it. “This… This is the guy from last night?” he hazarded, looking up. “Which would make the other fella…”

Reyes nodded in approval. “Hanzo and Genji Shimada, respectively. The newest head of the empire and his brother. And currently, guests in our medbay.”

Jesse’s eyes grew wide at that. “Holy shit. What the fuck happened, then?” Reyes scowled at him for a second before apparently deciding to call him on his language was a waste of both time and energy. Morrison coughed and covered his mouth and Reyes turned the glare on the Strike Commander who just ignored it in favor of continuing on with the briefing.

“We don’t know. That’s why you’re here,” Morrison said, turning his attention to Jesse. “The older boy’s been non-responsive beyond simple questions, and since you’re close to him in age, we’re hoping he might open up to someone he sees as a peer.”

“Uh… That sounds like a longshot.” It slipped out, and there was another cough from Morrison while Reyes’ scowl deepened.

“It is, but right now it’s what we’ve got,” Reyes growled. “Is that clear, McCree?”

Jesse ducked his head in apology. “Yessir,” he said as meekly as he could manage. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a quick grin flash across the Strike Commander’s face. Was he laughing at Reyes? Lord he hoped so. “If I can ask one question?”

Reyes looked about ready to throw him out of his office, but he sighed and nodded. “Make it quick.”

“How is his brother? If he asks?” Jesse was more than a little worried about that. If Shimada was responsible for the mess last night… He really didn’t want to see what would happen if he carried bad news to him.

Morrison answered. “He’s alive and stable but unconscious. It’ll take a while and a few million dollars worth of cybernetics, but Dr. Ziegler assures me that he’ll live.”

Jesse gulped at that. “A few million?” Would Overwatch even be willing to foot that bill? He could see several government people being upset about that. Morrison just shrugged and smiled that dazzling moviestar grin of his.

“There’s a couple of funds that’ve been piling up without going anywhere useful. I don’t think anyone will mind if I redirect them to actually save a life for once,” he said with a wink as he breezed past him towards the door. Jesse blinked at his retreating back, feeling as though he’d missed something.

“Boss?”

“Yes, Jesse?”

“Did you know that he was like that?”

“... Just get to fucking work, Jesse.”

oOo

Jesse hated the medbay. No offense to Mercy, but the place smelled like chemicals and reminded him of the last week he had with his ma. But the medbay was where his target was, and so he went. He tipped his hat in hello to the angel herself, who was practically asleep over her notes. He slipped her a cookie definitely not stolen from Ana’s stash hidden in one of the supply closets. A quick glance over the screen by her elbow told him Shimada was in one of the back rooms, tucked safely under guard where it was unlikely anything could happen.

Of course, after last night, Jesse was just about ready for anything.

He knocked on the door, but there was no response. Fine. He’d expected that after what Morrison had said. Jesse opened the door quietly and ducked inside. Shimada was on the bed, and Jesse’s heart twisted in sympathy as he saw just fragile the man looked. He was paler than in the picture, his hair in a dark tangle around his head. But, as he turned to see who was intruding, Jesse was once again arrested by those dark eyes, still just as empty as they had been the night before.

Jesse shook himself as he realized he was staring. Right. He was here for a reason. Information. And there was really only one way to do that in the face of such hopeless.

Be as goddamned charming as he fucking could be.

He took a deep breath and plunked himself down in the visitor’s chair, tipping his hat in greeting. “Well howdy there! You must be Hanzo, right? I’m Jesse McCree, your liaison for the while! I ain’t gonna say it’s a pleasure, because after last night I’m gonna guess that nothing’s really a pleasure at the moment.” He aimed his most disarming smile at Hanzo. Who continued to just look at him. Okay then. Jesse frowned thoughtfully. This was going to be tricky. Wait. Could he speak English? Surely Reyes would’ve warned him…

“Uh… Can you understand me or do I gotta go grab a translator? Because my Japanese is utter shit. I understand it okay, but I have been told my accent is an affront to literally every decent person.” Jesse watched Hanzo closely. If he’d blinked he would’ve missed it, but there was the tiniest smile before the man actually nodded with a spark in his eyes. Good. He could understand and wasn’t quite as dead inside as he appeared.

“Okay, I’m gonna be honest, I’m supposed to ask you all sorts of questions about last night?” he started, and once again in a lightning flash, he saw the light dim on his face. “Buuuut you clearly don’t want to talk about that at the moment, so! Uh…” Okay, McCree think… “Do you have any questions?”

Hanzo was quiet for long enough that Jesse thought this was probably a dead end, too, but as he wracked his brain for another approach a soft voice almost completely at odds with the desperate, hoarse speech from the night before sounded. “My brother… Is there any news?”

Jesse did a silent, mental cheer at the progress of conversation. “Yeah, actually! He’s gonna live! It’s gonna take a lot, and there’s talk of cybernetics, but he’ll pull through.”

Hanzo practically sagged with palpable relief suffused on his face, the first real expression Jesse’d seen from the man. “I had not dared to hope…” he whispered, almost to himself.

“He’s in the best of care!” Jesse added. “Dr. Ziegler’s a bonafide miracle worker! A regular angel, she is!”

“I owe her my thanks,” Hanzo said, pushing his hair out of his face. Jesse ducked his gaze just long enough to avoid being caught staring again. “And you… You were the man from… After? The one who called them?”

Jesse scratched the back of his head, looking away. “Y-yeah. That was me,” he answered, hoping Hanzo wouldn’t ask why he’d shown up.

“Thank you,” came that quiet voice. Jesse found his gaze drawn back, and he was hooked. He could still see the hallmarks of pride etched into his face, but his eyes. Oh his eyes… There was light shining there, the emptiness receding, if only for a moment. Jesse thought he could drown in their expressions.

He mentally slapped himself. Reasons. Work. Professional. Reyes was going to kill him if he fucked this up. But Reyes was smarter than he let on. Maybe he’d understand if Jesse did this delicately, because he couldn’t push him. Not after seeing a bit of life return. He’d done enough killing lately that he wanted to save a life if he could. Reyes probably would be okay with that. Hell, Reyes himself had done it.

And if he got to spend a little more time looking into those eyes, that’d be nice too.

[sixmorningsafter]

15 Review

I didn’t know how to start this review. Then you posted your character trailer and I was struck by how much this fic has evolved from the original 2-minute trailer. It started out as a fluffy rom com type fic and now it is a story of depth, of feeling and of growth. Sure, your humour balances out the angst, but what blows me away is the affection all your readers have for your characters even if the canon version leaves them cold. There are still times when I want to smack them around the head for being dumb (quite a lot in this chapter!), but I am still rooting so hard for all 4 of them to get a HEA (actually 5 including Kai).

Ahhhhh, Janet, my sun and stars! Sorry for taking a bit to reply to this - I was trying to get 16 cranked out (lmao as you well know) and I was putting off delving back into my asks until I did. Now that the chapter’s up and kind of terrifyingly out there, I can finally get to answering this glorious, lovely review, and I’m going to start with getting real emotional over everything you said about the fic’s development. I think I’ve mentioned it a few times, but I’ve always been aiming for a kind of Breakfast Club effect with this story where it starts out with a bunch of surface-level stereotypes for characters, gets them stuck somewhere, and then uses that idle time to dig past the labels and see what makes them human. Obviously SMA has gone way off the rails and is way more shippy and tropey than TBC, lmao, but it makes me so happy to hear that you feel like it’s transcended the raunchy romcom premise. It’s been a gradual but deliberate effort on my end and it gives me hella feels to know it’s working.

Can I just say how much I love the fact you started and ended it with Stefan’s POV? That end scene where he can’t help but be a little bit Nicholas Sparks (Stefan “King of Cheese” Salvatore knows who he is, but not Sia ha ha) and Caroline surprises him with the hot chocolate – aww. I also adored Ms Cuddles and Caroline having a ‘chat’ about Stefan – that was a really beautiful note, the parallel of Caroline softening towards both the cat and Stefan. In fact, the cat is basically a metaphor for Stefan, right? Caroline’s reaction annoyed me initially, I can’t lie, but her gradual rationalisation of her behaviour was really interesting and her thoughts on how it affected Stefan showed her to be compassionate and sweet. An interesting point was that Stefan felt that he lost control completely of the sex, intimacy situation, whereas Caroline describes him as ‘always having one foot on the floor, checking in’ – I’m not sure why I liked that so much, but I did. I love the tease for chapter 16 where these idiots actually talk to each other. There’s a line where Stefan talks (in his head) about him (or indeed anyone) not being worth that much angst and about watching her flicker from afar, both of which I loved because it showed just what a caring chap Stefan is.

Italicized the bit above because I’m so happy you caught that! It was one of those dissonant things I tried to sneak in to remind people that literally no one’s narration in this fic is objective, you know? Like Stefan’s sitting there feeling lowkey guilty because there was a moment he knew he probably should’ve pulled back but didn’t, and then later on Caroline’s thinking about how safe she felt because he never seemed to lose himself completely. I think on a backstory note, too, it gives a some indirect insight into Maroline and just how out of control Matt could get that by comparison, Stefan losing control felt like total safety to her. 

ANYWAY, that bit aside (I love how you catch those little things, btw), cat’s totally a metaphor for Stefan. To me anyway. I don’t think Stefan directly intended the parallel but this cheesy af author did 👍 And yeah, at their core, Caroline and Stefan are both giant cheese balls who are just trying to figure out what to do with their abundance of scary feelings. I think it’s good that Caroline’s reaction annoyed you, tbh, because it was supposed to be a last straw kind of thing. Not necessarily even for Stefan, but just for her. She gets sick of her own shit, which you probably get more of a sense for in 16 than 15. It’s kind of her breaking point. She’s like ‘holy shit enough this is exhausting’. So I think it’s good for you, as the reader, to also be exhausted with her, because she’s pretty much feeling the same way. 

(Aside: jeez the way you wrote the Steroline sex scene was perfect, not graphic or squirmy, but really hot. I now can’t wait to see what you do with Bamon! Things gonna get weird – I know it!)

I literally just figured out how Bamon’s going to go down (like locked it down in my head) and honestly. Weirdly feelsy. But also very hot and them, I think. Bonnie’s profession might factor in. But gah, thanks so much for the feedback on the SC scene! That was like my first time writing a sex scene in a fic (not because I’m anti-sex scene I just usually don’t make it that far in, looooool) so I’m so glad it wasn’t a disaster!

The ship stuff is great in this chapter, but I thought I was going to miss the friendship stuff. I didn’t because of all the cute references to the friendships that you put in. Damon doing his lovesick idiot impression AKA imitating Stefan – LOL! Damon referring to Stefan taking Bonnie to court for flamingo hate crimes - I nearly died at that little exchange. I also liked the parallel of Bonnie telling Damon about the Stefonnie V-day standoff (“yellow sucks and you’re a bad friend” WTF Bonnie? Baby love sick puppy Stefan - priceless) and Steroline chatting about Bonnie’s insane diet as a way of bonding (Stefan’s a feeder, his go-to strategy to smooth things over = food, head canon this was his major way of coping with his sisters and Bonnie’s mood swings). Bonnie is like the lynch pin in this fic and I bloody love it. The parallel of Caroline and Bonnie trying to get over Stefan and Damon by using extreme physical contact as a method of desensitisation. LOL like that was ever going to work - dumbos!

Aren’t they the stupidest human beings, though? Like do you understand how often I write literally any part of this fic and have to stop, stare the screen, and go ‘WHY ARE YOU ALL SO DUMB’. Like yeah, Caroline, riding Stefan in the middle of a dark living room till neither of you can think straight is definitely going to make you less into him. Obviously. How could that backfire? Yeah Bonnie, dragging a flirty Damon to a tiny little stairwell to bitch at him is obviously not going to lead to anything you don’t want happening. How could it? It’s so foolproof? They’re stupid. Anyway, lmao, love love love that all the brotp references could keep you afloat with the friendships this chapter, and love all the parallels you picked up on. I’m not going to lie, I miss writing ensemble scenes so friggin’ much, to the point where I’m a little sad 16 had to get split before I hit the group bits, but I can’t wait to get back to that. I can’t wait to get back to crowded mornings and furtive looks and smug comments and chaotic bursts of activity - it always happens whenever I have long night time scenes. I’m like ready for the reset of a new, bustling morning, and a large part of it is because of the brotp potential, so I’m super happy that part’s important to you, too!

Now for Kai. His cyber stalking, 6 ovens and secret room made me laugh in a somewhat anxious way, although I too aim for my Christmas decorations to involve a miniature train set up #lifegoals #weareallalittlebitkai. I get that Bonnie was terrified, trapped with a knife 2 inches from her face. She still slipped into her compassionate self because that is who Bonnie is at her core. This girl is a damn hero. I can totally see how down the line these 2 end up being ‘friends’ with the other 3 being dragged into this friendship group, kicking and screaming, although I caught Damon being friendly with him already. I’m really interested to see how the Stefan-Kai dynamic works out. I felt bad for him going off swan hunting in a blizzard and perplexed because it’s going to take ages to pluck and roast a new swan – Bamon are trapped lol.

Loooool, Kai, my little lunatic son. He means well? Kind of. I think he just doesn’t always know what ‘well’ is. And yep, Bonnie’s compassionate streak flares hard and often, and it’s already showing for Kai, although if you’ve read 16 it turns out that Damon actually ends up being the surprise Kai bestie. Honestly, Kai thinks they’re both great and has very enthusiastic and occasionally frightening ways of showing it, lmao. And HAHA, you know, Kai x Stefan is probably the only dynamic I haven’t nailed down? Largely because my instinct is to have Kai think he’s shady/get an inexplicably bad vibe from him (because COME ON HOW FUNNY IS THAT), and I feel like Stefan’s constantly getting the short end of the stick with these people, but lmao, who knows. I might do it anyway. It’s hard to resist the hilarity of Murdery McSwankiller Kai finding Stefan of all people suspicious. They’ll probably bond over cooking, though.

Hands down my favourite part is Damon’s panic attack, the way you wrote it – wow, so good. I have never had a panic attack and after reading that I was so glad that I hadn’t. It basically cracked open Damon’s life a little, let us in on his dark past. I have only waited 15 chapters for this (see every review of this fic I have ever written lol – god I’m so boring, sorry). When they were first trapped in the basement and Bonnie was quizzing him without mercy, I felt so bad for him.  I loved that she picked up on the panic attack and tried a softer approach and the connection that it sparked. I love their physical attraction (I want them to kiss every time they get within about 6 foot of each other, I have no idea how Bonnie copes!), their verbal sparring and Damon’s protectiveness towards Bonnie, but Damon being vulnerable and letting her in (even if he didn’t want to) was like the final piece in a jigsaw puzzle and at the same time, the beginning of something really beautiful. I really want to see more from him next chapter, his embarrassment is already palpable in the preview vid and I’m so psyched about vulnerable Damon. I hope we find out more about why he was in Chicago. Is that likely?

Ahhhhhh, girl, all of this has me so, so starry-eyed, like I’m so happy to hear this scene worked so well for you. I always get super nervous when I’m writing something sensitive that I’ve never gone through myself, and I try to do a bunch of research and read about peoples’ experiences and see what different accounts have in common to get to the core of it, but it’s still always a bit of a gamble. Not even in the sense of getting the symptoms and stuff right, because that’s just following a list, but more so capturing the gravity of it, not making it some melodramatic trivialized thing that robs it of weight, you know? That’s what I was the most worried about, so reading this review is just so, so wonderful, because it seems like you really felt everything I was trying to capture. Love love love your analysis of Bamon and their progression so far, and your note about how it felt like both the final piece of something and the beginning of something else. I think that’s such a great way to put it. You spend a fair bit of time in Damon’s head in 16, and it’s safe to say his whole breezy facade is cracked, but the vulnerability is definitely there. And as for the new beginning you mentioned in 15, I think what that ends up being in 16 is that trust is starting to build. He’s trying to avoid it at first, but it’s there and it’s growing, and in 17 (what was supposed to be 16, lmao), you’ll see the first moment where Damon actually volunteers information about himself. He isn’t asked, he isn’t panicking, he just finally gets to the point where he wants to talk about things, Chicago, etc. So I think it’s 100% likely that you’ll hear more about what happened there, and in an added bonus, it won’t all be from his mental narration! He’s going to bring it up. It’s comin’!

Edit: Having seen your posts, I have now seen that the next chapter will have Baroline friendship scenes and more Stefan back story – OMG yay so up for this! Also we need more about Stefan and the girl that cried after having sex with him (or was it the other way around?).

Hahaha literally BOTH of those things got lost in the split, I’m afraid. But they’re definitely coming! And lmaaaaaoooooo, in the fic, Stefan made a girl cry once, but I honestly wouldn’t put post-sex crying past him. Oh, Stefan, my precious emotional son.

Anyway, thanks so, so much for this glorious review, babe. As always, it was insightful and eloquent af and I’m crazy humbled to have readers like you. <3

[chesayacatart-moved]

Prumano fated soulmates

Lovino frowned down at the sheet of paper in his hands,hardly able to believe he'd pulled this assignment.  Plenty of people would have given an arm tohave it, so maybe it was good that someone like him, someone who didn't care,actually had.  At least he wouldn't betempted to turn into some kind of groupie for this band, the Teutonic Eagles.  What kind of name was that, anyway?  Did it have something to do with ContinentalDrift?  That would have been a betterband name, in his opinion.

He got out of the car, straightening his perfectly tailoredsuit as he crossed the road and entered the building.  He'd been told it was blue, but to him, itwas just a dark gray.  He didn't thinkhe'd ever meet the person that would make his world burst into color.

"Hey, uh...Where can I find the Teu...TeutonicEagles?" he asked a janitor, pausing just inside the door as the manlooked up.

"Take a left and look for the red door," the manreplied easily, pointing.  Great.  So this guy had found his soulmate so longago that he had apparently forgotten that the world wasn't in color foreveryone.  Lovino stamped down hisjealousy and nodded his thanks instead, heading in the direction he'd beenpointed.

Luckily, he wouldn't need the colors to show him theway.  He found a few vaguely familiar menslouching around outside one of the doors, looking bored.

"Hey," he greeted, scowling when he realized allthree men were taller than him, "Are you guys the Teutonic Eagles?"

"Most of us," answered one with a deep voice andslight accent.  He had spiky, pale hairand a scar over his eye.  Even though itwas fairly warm inside, he wore a striped scarf wrapped around his neck.

"Yeah.  Gil'sstill entertaining his groupies.  Wecan't get started without him," added another.  His hair was pale and spiky too, but morewindswept.  Lovino would have placed hisaccept as one of the Nordic countries.

"If you're our new manager, you should go gethim," the third encouraged.  He wasonly a few inches taller than Lovino, but he still had the advantage.  Lovino tried to focus on his eyes, but thoseeyebrows had a magnetic field of their own.

Lovino sighed, deciding not to ask for their names.  He didn't want to give away just howout-of-touch he was with his new assignment. "Yeah, whatever.  Which wayis he?"

They all pointed, and Lovino started off.  He could already tell this fourth guy wouldbe the one that gave him the most trouble. He was probably only concerned with the fame and the groupies.  He rounded the corner, following the noise ofsqueals, and found himself at the back of a small group.  He stood on tiptoe to see over the crowdand--

His world burst into color. Red, blue, and the soft pinkish tone of pale skin rushed in to cover theperson he'd made eye contact with.  Hewas frozen for a moment, then ducked down to hide behind the group.

No.  There was no wayhe was going to be the soulmate of one of these...these...assholes!  Especially not theone entertaining groupies.  He stoodcarefully and peeked again.  The man waslooking around frantically, his red eyes wide. His eyes swept over Lovino, but to the Italian's relief, there was noflicker of recognition.  The man didn'tknow who in this crowd he'd made eye contact with.

Lovino snuck around the group and grabbed his arm, gettinghis attention.  The man's head whippedaround, hope filling his expression, but Lovino kept his own face neutral.  His temper had already put his job injeopardy, but he wouldn't let any other emotions do the same.

"Are you Gil?" he asked, and when the man nodded, hecontinued, "I'm your new manager. The rest of the guys said they can't get started without you, so you'recoming with me."

"What?  No!"Gil burst out, hope collapsing into fury, "I just saw--I can't leavenow!"

Lovino ignored his protests, using his advantage of surpriseto overpower Gil and drag him back before he could get his feet under him andfight back.

He could do this.  Hewasn't going to let himself fall in love just because some cosmic force saidthey were soulmates.

Lovino felt cold, then hot, then cold again.  He scowled down at the paperwork in front ofhim, his shoulders so tense they could put marble to shame.  He'd felt like this ever since that cutesyblond came prancing around, swearing up and down she was Gil's soulmate.  He didn't remember her from that group he'dwalked up to eight months ago, but she must have been there.  She knew exactly when Gil had started to seein color.

"Relax, Lovi," his brother advised from the couchbehind him, "He knows better.  Evenif you two aren't dating, he knows you're the one who made him seethat."  Feliciano wasn't supposed tobe here, but Lovino let it slide.  Hedidn't think he could be alone right now anyway.  Arthur was the only one in the band he couldstand most of the time, and he didn't know why Lovino was in a worse mood thanusual.

When he didn't answer Feliciano, the younger brother satup.  He seemed to know that meantsomething.  He stared at Lovino, andLovino continued to stare at the meaningless words in front of him.

"You haven't told him?" Feliciano guessed finally,sounding incredulous.  When Lovino'sshoulders hunched higher, he let out a scoff of disbelief.

"You've been waiting your whole life to meet yoursoulmate!  And don't start, I know howyou are about all those romance movies. But now you've spent more than half a year with him, watching him flirtwith groupies, and you haven't said a word."

"He's awful," Lovino grumbled finally, "Andbesides, he hates me."

"Because he thought you dragged him away from his soulmate,"Feliciano countered, "He wouldn't hate you if he knew you were thesoulmate."

Lovino just shrugged in response.  There was a knot of guilt in his stomach andhe was feeling cold again.  This was onhim.  Still, he was surprised whenFeliciano actually got up and made to leave.

"Don't let him get sucked into something under thewrong impression," he advised before he disappeared.

It took Lovino another two days to work up the courage toconfront Gil.  He caught the lead singerjust as he was about to leave the dressing room, pushing him back inside andkicking the door shut behind them.  Hewondered if Gil could feel the sparks where their bare skin touched or if hewas just succumbing to the idea of this soulmate bullshit.

"Hey!  Let me go,asshole, I have a date!" Gil protested. He glared, but though he could easily have overpowered Lovino, he didn'ttry.

"With a liar," Lovino snapped back.  He couldn't help himself.  The knot in his stomach had only grown,leaving him in a worse mood than usual. He glared back into Gil's expression of muddled hurt, anger, confusion,and surprise.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.  His voice was slow and careful, warningLovino that if he didn't speak carefully, things could go very wrong betweenthem.  His courage started to fail, butthe thought of that girl cooing lies to Gil refueled his anger.

"She's not your soulmate.  She probably can't even see in coloryet," he insisted, "I was standing behind that group.  That was the first time I ever saw you in person.  I--"

He broke off as Gil held up a hand.  The albino was trembling slightly, his eyesblazing.

"Are you telling me," he began, his voicedangerously quiet, "That you aremy fucking soulmate?  That you knew whathappened right away and you lied to me? You let me hate you over a misunderstanding when we could havebeen...?"  He stopped, every inch ofhim trembling with fury.  When Lovinodidn't answer, he pushed past him roughly.

"Ask her!" Lovino called after him, "Yourshirt is blue.  Ask her if sheknows."

Gil disappeared for a week. He didn't show up for practices or meetings, and even Matthias didn'tseem to know where he was.  Lovino knewwhy, of course, and that knot of guilt seemed to solidify instead of going awaylike it was supposed to.

The band was discussing what they would do if Gil stoppedshowing up entirely when they door flew open and the man of the hour stormedin.  He stomped right past the table,ignoring the greetings of his band mates, and grabbed Lovino by the front ofhis shirt.

Lovino tried to scramble away, but for once, Gil was usinghis full strength with him.  His eyesblazed, but he didn't do anything Lovino expected.  He expected screaming, shaking, maybe to bethrown to the ground, but what he got was a kiss.

It was a bruising, fierce, angry kiss, but it was still akiss.  Gil's mouth dominated his, morelike he was making a statement about his anger than connecting with hissoulmate.  Before Lovino could react, hepulled back and dragged Lovino to another room, leaving the other three staringafter them in shock.

"Fuck!" Gil snapped when they were alone, kickingthe wall.  Lovino shrank back from hisanger, figuring the best plan was to keep his mouth shut.  Gil paced, running his fingers roughlythrough his pale hair until it stuck up in all directions.

"You were right, okay? You were right.  I asked her ifred was a good color on me and she went with it.  She thought I had a red shirt.  You..." He stopped and ran a hand overhis face, and Lovino suddenly realized how close to tears he was.  He was moving before he even realized, takingGil's hand gently into his.

"I know.  I'mpathetic," he whispered, watching as Gil's eyes widened in shock,"You don't have to be with me.  I'mboring and moody and just...me.  I just didn'twant you to be taken in by a lie."

He couldn't make eye contact.  He stared at the X-eyed smiley face on Gil'sshirt, feeling his heart pound against his ribs like a frantic, cagedbird.  He didn't know why so manyromances claimed that as a good feeling. It was painful; he felt as trapped as the metaphorical bird.

"I'll leave," he continued as the stony silencepiled up around them like snowdrifts, "At least I didn't get fired for mytemper this time."

He turned to walk away, but pale, muscular arms wrappedaround him, holding him in place.  Gil'shead settled into the crook of his neck, and his lips brushing against Lovino'sskin when he spoke.

"Stay. Please.  At least give us achance."

Note: Lovino confused Teutonic with Tectonic in the beginning.