#regretfully uncaring

[rmwb-fanfics]

Ginny Weasley watched Harry sit on the gravely shores of The Black Lake, dipping his toes in the cold water. He was squinting, more than he usually did, like he was having trouble seeing. The sun was hidden behind a cloud at the time, so it wasn’t like the day was too bright. 

He’d been oddly distant. Not from her, no. He rarely spoke to her. It was his behaviour toward Hermione and Ron that gave her that impression.

He seemed unfocused, discontent. It had been a day since the adventure in the Shrieking Shack. The parting feast had come and gone. Today they were packed, ready to leave on the Hogwarts Express, all the way back to London. 

He ran a hand through his hair, the sun breaching through the clouds to illuminate the grounds and letting his eyes sparkle like emeralds. He laughed to himself suddenly, then looked around, embarrassed. 

His eyes met hers, and she felt heat pool into her face. She hated the effect he had on her. She just wanted to be his friend. She wanted to talk to him, to laugh with him for more than the stolen moments shared behind the backs of her brothers. How could he be so comfortable around her, so normal, yet she couldn’t even hold his gaze for a brief second. 

She wanted to hear his stories, to see if he really did have a sense of humour or if Ron was just an idiot. She wanted to know his smiles and understand his choices. She wanted to know him. To really know him. 

She wanted to be his friend. 

Yet those thoughts felt so silly; so immature. The naïve wonderings of a little girl writing in a diary, alone in the dark. It wasn’t because of his scar or his past. Nor was it because of his money or his legend. 

It was because of the way he’d spoken to her in her home. The way he hadn’t teased her. The way he had let her cry into his chest, even when he evidently wished she wouldn’t. It was because of who he was. Or, who she thought he was, at the very least. 

Yet here she sat, on the walls of the castle she couldn’t call a comfort, watching him from a distance. 

Always from a distance. 

From the Regretfully Uncaring rewrite.

[justalonelybitch]

To Love Again

Yunjin x F!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff (?)

Warnings: Swearing, Break-Ups, Mentions of Disbandment

Word Count: 6k

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Your cheeks were stained with tears that hadn’t stopped flowing ever since the news was revealed. Heart clenching in your chest, you clamped your hand over your mouth in a desperate attempt to muffle your sobs. The faint creak of a door followed by hurried footsteps went unheard by you, it was only once a familiar sweet scent invaded your senses that you became aware of her presence. “It’s okay,” Yunjin soothed, unsure of which one of you she was trying to convince as she pulled you into her chest. “How can you say that?” You cried into her shoulder, both of you uncaring of the tears that soaked through her shirt. 

“We promised we’d make it together, that we’d stay together forever,” your voice cracked as you spoke. “I know,” Yunjin whispered, voice undeniably shaky. “I wish it didn’t have to end like this, Y/n. But it’s out of our control,” she explained, tears springing to her eyes. “I just don’t understand,” you trailed off, voice muffled as you spoke into her shoulder. “I know it’s hard, but it’s time for us to move on,” she admitted tearfully, hopelessly blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. “I don’t want to,” you protested, grip around her waist tightening significantly. “Believe me when I say I never wanted this either,” she sighed, combing her fingers through your hair.

“You're so close to your dream Y/n,” Yunjin said, pausing briefly as you rapidly shook your head before she could continue. “It’s not a dream without you,” you cried harder, knowing what she was planning. “You’re going to do great things, with or without me,” she assured, rubbing soothing circles on your back. An involuntary sob ripped past your lips, her heart dropped at the sound. “I’ve got to stop kidding myself, it’s time for me to go home,” she spoke regretfully, eyes clenching shut as your cries only increased in volume. “I can’t do it without you,” you sniffled, finally lifting your head to meet her gaze. Yunjin finally let the tears fall freely down her cheeks at the sight of the vulnerability your tear filled eyes held.

“Promise me you’ll try,” she proposed, forehead creased in a deep frown. She reached her hands up to gently cup your cheeks, swiping away your tears with the pads of her thumbs. “Please,” she whispered, pleading as she gazed into your eyes. Unable to deny her, you reluctantly nodded your head sending her a tight lipped smile. “I’m so proud of you,” she smiled despite the tears that cascaded down her face. “I should be the one comforting you,” you groaned, a watery chuckle leaving her lips at your frustration. She leaned down slowly, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek that spoke a thousand words. Yet another sob bubbled from your chest as she pulled you into a tight hug that felt painfully final.

“My flight leaves soon,” Yunjin informed softly, guilt plaguing her mind as the abruptness of her decision. “Please don’t leave,” you begged, knowing it was a hopeless endeavour. She released a shaky breath, tugging you impossibly closer, eyes fluttering closed as she attempted to burn the memory into her mind. “I love you,” she confessed, sucking her lips between her teeth. “Don’t tell me that, not now. It will only hurt more,” you mumbled into her neck, unwilling to let go just yet. “I couldn’t live with myself if I never told you,” she admitted. This wasn’t how she’d wanted to tell you, it was never supposed to be like this.

“I love you too,” you whispered, a sigh of relief leaving her lips the moment the words rolled off your tongue. You sniffled as she planted a kiss on the side of your head, her grip on you loosening as she began to retract her arms from around your waist. “Not yet,” you pleaded, fists clenched tightly around the fabric of her hoodie. “Okay, just a little longer,” she promised, unable to deny you of such a simple request. The longer she stayed the more it prolonged the hurt, but the pain was worth it for a few more moments in her arms. She was never supposed to let you go, the two of you had promised that you’d become idols together. But learning that not all promises last forever was something you wished you’d never had to do.

~~

Produce 48, the survival show that had brought your dreams to life while simultaneously robbing you of the best part. It was bittersweet, your heart was filled with joy upon hearing the news, but something was always missing. Everything felt wrong without her. You were happy, but there was no denying the lingering sadness that plagued your broken heart. The longing to have her by your side once more was something you feared would never leave you, but the pain was the only thing you had left of her. You were moving on without her, but it felt like each step was only taking you further in the wrong direction. Everything had happened so quickly that you’d barely had time to process any of it, caught up in a storm of constant training and endless showcases.

You loved it, everything about it, but you could never forget what you’d had to give up to have it.

~~

Yet another promise of forever was ripped from your grasp. The disbandment of Iz*one was an inevitable end you’d foolishly hoped to never face. Just as things were beginning to feel whole again, you were forced into another equally painful goodbye. The hollowness that remained with you became easier to ignore overtime, moving past it was something you’d come to accept would never happen. It was trying again that was troubling, the prospect of giving up became ever more enticing with each passing day. You didn’t know if you had it in you to continue, the risk of losing it all wasn’t something you were prepared to go through again. One thing you hadn’t anticipated was how convincing Chaewon could be when it came to persuasion.

You found yourself back in yet another practice room, hours on end spent perfecting each dance. It was tiresome, but it reminded you of how much you loved it. Being back with your friends, working towards being back on stage. “Did you hear?” Chaewon came up behind you, hand slung lazily over your shoulders. “Huh?” You grunted in questioning, momentarily averting your eyes from the screen that displayed your recorded dance. “The new addition to the line up,” she explained, eyes trained on the door ahead of you. “That’s today?” You asked, a sigh slipping past your lips as you leaned back against her. She merely hummed in response, eyes briefly flickering to you.

“Do we know anything about her?” You inquired, Sakura appearing by your side with a smile. Chaewon hesitated briefly, sharing a look with your fellow trainee before returning her gaze to you. “She’s-” The door began to swing open before she could speak, a head of black hair cautiously peaking through the gap. Your breath hitched as a familiar face covered in shock greeted you, Chaewon’s arm tightening around you in support. You slipped out of her grasp, stepping away from the gathered three, watching as they became reacquainted with one another from the sidelines. You blinked rapidly at the scene before you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

All it took was one look and you were hit with the same feeling you were struck with all those years ago. The moment your gaze landed on her, you knew you were doomed. For a split second she glanced your way, a light smile adorning her lips as she met your eyes. Rooted in your place, you stare stiffly at the girl before you, heart thumping wildly in your ears. Everything passed by in a blur, your eyes unfocused as she leaned closer to whisper something inaudible to Sakura. You let your eyes flutter closed, offering yourself a moment of peace in an uninterrupted sanctuary. The light brush of fingertips on your bare shoulder snapping you back to reality. “Hey,” Yunjin greeted with a sheepish smile as your gaze landed on her.

One word from her lips was all it took for your walls to come crashing down.

~~

You’d foolishly allowed yourself to fall back into old habits with Huh Yunjin, something you were painfully aware that you’d soon come to regret. It was always easy to let her in, becoming friends with the girl was something you’d embraced willingly the second you laid your eyes upon her. She’d always been an affectionate person, but there was no denying the unspoken words that were shared between the two of you with each lingering touch. With you it was always different. Neither of you could resist the invisible force that pulled you together, sometimes it was easier to give in. Being friends with Yunjin was an effortless task, but remaining that way proved a troublesome feat.

Your chest heaved up and down as shuffled towards the wall, propping yourself against it in order to avoid collapsing. Squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to catch your breath, you brushed that strands of hair that stuck to your glistening skin from your face. A hand pat your shoulder lightly before coming to rest at your lower back, your eyes fluttering open to meet Yunjin’s empathetic gaze. “Here,” she offered, handing over the bottle of ice cold water from her grasp. You sighed as her fingers brushed against your own, sending her a grateful smile. She watched attentively as you took small sips of the cold water between breaths, face scrunching up disapproval.

“Drink more,” she urged, eyeing the way your legs shook unsteadily with a frown. “I’m fine,” you muttered in a pitiful attempt to reassure her, pushing yourself off the wall with a huff. “No you’re not,” she kept her hand at your lower back cautiously, worried that you may pass out from exhaustion. “I am,” you insisted, gritting your teeth in mild annoyance as you brushed her off. One step away from her had your legs giving out, her arms looping around your waist securely before you could hit the ground. “Please just sit down with me for a bit,” she said, receiving a reluctant nod of acceptance. She gently lowered you to the floor, taking up the spot beside you, her back pressed against the mirrored wall.

“I’m worried about you,” she admitted, a distant look in her eyes as they wandered the practice room. You sighed, anxiously fiddling with your fingers as you stared down at your lap. After so long being far apart, you’d almost forgotten how observant she was to the smallest details, how much she cared for those around her. Met by silence, she turned to face you with eagle eyes, gaze boring into the side of your head. You feigned ignorance, staring directly ahead in hopes of forgetting the way your heart jumped in your chest as her leg brushed against yours. Huffing, you began to lift yourself from the ground, receiving instant protest from Yunjin. 

“Babe-” The pet name rolled off her tongue with ease, your movements halting the moment it slipped past her lips. “Y/n.” She quickly corrected, eyebrows furrowing at the way your shoulders visibly tensed at the sound of her voice. You remain unmoving, an unreadable expression plastered on your face as you stare down at the floor. She hesitantly reached out towards you, but just before her hand could meet yours staff began calling for you both. “Everyone gather round,” they shouted, each face reflecting a more sympathetic look than the last. Taking it as an opportunity to remove yourself from Yunjin’s presence, you found yourself by Chaewon’s side.

“Everything alright?” She whispered, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as she subtly nodded towards Yunjin. You hummed absentmindedly, leaning your head on her shoulder as her fingers began to comb through your hair. “Where’s Haruka?” You mumbled upon doing a quick scan of the room, only to find her nowhere in sight. “She had a meeting, I’m sure she'll be back soon,” Chaewon replied. A feeling of unease began to eat away at you, the staff finally beginning to speak as everyone had gathered. “We have some unfortunate news to share with you today,” he spoke regretfully, pausing momentarily as he glanced over the group. “I’m sad to say that moving forwards, Haruka will no longer be a part of this team,” he announced with a sigh.

Audible gasps could be heard echoing throughout the practice room, your hand flying up on instinct to cover your lips that had parted in shock. “We’ll let you guys say your goodbyes,” he said, the door opening to reveal a teary eyed Haruka. Everyone rushed towards her, tears filling their own eyes as they shared final words with her. No one knew quite what to say, but each of you made an attempt to console her. It all went by in a blur, forced to part ways with someone you’d hoped to have a future with once more. You were irked by how rushed it was, the only thing the staff had in mind was getting it over and done with so you could go back to training tirelessly

The room was unnervingly still as Haruka was ushered out of the building, a sorrowful silence filled the room. You kept your gaze firmly on the door, mind wandering as everyone tried to come to terms with the events that had transpired. A gentle grip on your wrist tugged you from your thoughts, your eyes flickering towards the source. “Y/n..” Yunjin trailed off with an empathetic look plastered across her face. Your eyes glanced briefly to where she grasped your wrist, before flitting back to her. “I can’t,” you whispered, pulling your hand from her grasp as if it burned. Ignoring the hurt that reflected in her eyes you hastily turned on your heel, rushing out the door without another word.

Yunjin briefly glanced around the room before making her own exit, no one daring to follow the two of you. She was hot on your tail as you sped through the halls, repeatedly calling out your name. Upon reaching a dead end, you abruptly stopped in your tracks. Yunjin cautiously lingered a few feet away from you, forehead creased in a frown as she heard the faintest sniffle come from you. You refused to turn around, fearful that one look in her eye would make your next choice impossible to go through with, your fists clenched tightly by your sides. “Please talk to me,” she begged, tone laced with an undeniable hurt. Met with silence, she hesitantly reached for you, forcing you to face her. She was unprepared for the sight of tears already streaming down your cheeks, her heart aching in her chest.

She raised her hand to gently caress your cheeks, swiping away the tears that fell freely. You let your eyes flutter shut as her hand came in contact with you, unable to pull away just yet. “I can’t do this anymore, Yunjin.” You admitted, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion at your words. “What do you mean?” She whispered anxiously, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Us. It hurts too much,” you mumbled, offering her a sad smile. “I don’t understand, Y/n.” She lied, knowing exactly what you meant but not wanting to believe the truth. After all these years she could still read you like a book, something she wishes wasn’t bestowed upon her at this moment.

“I can’t lose you again,” you sighed, slipping from her grasp as you backed away from her. She shook her head rapidly in refusal, chocolate brown eyes swirling with sadness. “Don’t do this, Y/n,” she pleaded. “I’m sorry,” you whispered a tearful apology, cheeks dampened significantly. “I thought I could do it, but being close to you only hurts more,” you explained, though she wasn’t sure it was something she wanted to hear. There was a pregnant pause as you gazed at each other through blurry eyes, the silence holding a thousand unsaid words. Unable to bear it any longer, you brushed past her, Yunjin staying rooted in her place as silent tears rolled down her face.

~~

Yunjin peered at you from across the room, observing your every move. Your head was thrown back as a melodious laugh escaped your parted lips, eyes crinkled into crescents. Chaewon mirrored your expression, playfully hitting your shoulder in amusement. Sakura stood beside the two of you, shaking her head as she rolled her eyes at your antics, an undeniable fond look reflecting in her eyes. “Unnie,” Eunchae called from behind her, Yunjin whipping her head around to meet her gaze. “Can you help me with this part?” The younger asked, lazily pointing her finger towards the screen that displayed the correct formation. The older eagerly nodded, letting her gaze briefly flicker towards you before she went to assist the newest addition to the line-up.

The youngest picked up the dance with impressive speed, turning to Yunjin with a mischievous smirk once she’d learned everything necessary. The older raised an inquisitive brow at the way her eyes danced with curiosity. “What’s up with you and Y/n unnie?” She asked simply, Yunjin blinking in surprise at her boldness. No one else has ever dared to ask, fearful that it would only create more tension amongst the group. “Kkura unnie said you were close, but I only ever see her with Chaewon unnie. You both just stare at each other when the other isn’t looking,” Eunchae stated as if your mutual pining were obvious. The older furrowed her brows in confusion, whipping her head around only to meet your gaze for a split second before your eyes widened and you turned away so fast Yunjin was worried you’d strain your neck.

“It’s complicated..” Yunjin muttered distractedly as she continued to watch you with curiosity. Eunchae nodded, giggling in amusement as she shared a glance with a perplexed Kazuha who only furrowed her brows in confusion. The oldest of the three narrowed her eyes slightly as you continued to act as though you weren’t blatantly ignoring her, while also being caught staring. Your debut was just around the corner and she knew all this pinning wasn’t going to do the future of the group any good. Being away from you for all this time only cemented her love for you, years longing to be in your presence once more, but now she was and it was the opposite of what she’d dreamed of. You were right by her side, yet you felt further away than ever.

She’d foolishly hoped that everything would go back to normal, but oh how incredibly wrong she was. Yunjin was okay with being friends, it was how your relationship had begun before developing further the first time. She was willing to be patient with you, she was even fine with remaining friends if it made you happy. She understood your pain, but she couldn’t understand your decision to push her away. You were on her mind constantly, a dream and a nightmare she could never seem to escape. It hurts you to get close to her, but it hurts her to be forced away from you. What hurt more was the way you looked at her, as if you regretted everything, but you still never approached her to make amends. She knew you longed for it just as much as she did, but your fears outweighed that longing and your broken relationship was left in limbo.

~~

Your head snapped up at the sound of a faint knock on your door, Chaewon’s head popping through the gap. She smiled as you ushered her inside, taking a seat on the edge of your bed as she glanced around your undecorated room. “How are you settling in?” She asked, smiling as she caught sight of a framed picture of all the members of Iz*one sat atop your otherwise empty desktop. “It’s alright, I’m still getting used to it though,” you answered, receiving an understanding nod from the appointed leader. As you took a seat beside her on the bed, she smiled softly, taking your hand in her own. “Are you okay, Y/n?” She asked, leaving you blinking in surprise at the question, head tilting in confusion as you furrowed your brows.

“What do you mean, Unnie?” You questioned, feeling her thumb begin to rub your knuckles soothingly. “I’ve been worried about you lately,” she admitted, gnawing at the inside of her cheek. “I’m fine,” you dismissed quickly, attempting to calm her concerns. “You can’t lie to me, Y/n. I know you too well,” Chaewon spoke softly, eyes holding nothing but genuine concern. Sighing, you avoided her gaze, knowing it would only be so long before she convinced you to confess your troubles. “It’s about Yunjin, isn’t it?” Your eyes widened at the words that slipped past her lips with ease, your head whipping in her direction. “What makes you say that?” You asked, blinking rapidly as you sucked your lip between your teeth.

“I know you, Y/n. I knew the second she walked in the door that there was more to the story than you let on,” Chaewon stated, watching your expressions carefully as she spoke. “You loved her,” she stated, a knowing smile adorning her lips as she continued. “You still love her,” she acknowledged, observing you as the corners of your mouth were tugged downwards into a deep frown. “How..?” You questioned in disbelief, too stunned to deny her claims. “You’ve never looked at anyone the way you look at her,” Chaewon explained as if it were the most simple thing in the world. Sighing, you nodded hesitantly in understanding, unsure as to how she thought of you given this new revelation.

You anxiously nibbled on your lip, tapping your foot on the floor repeatedly, a nervous habit. “I love you nonetheless, Y/n.” She spoke as if reading your every thought, extinguishing the worries before they could corrupt your mind. “As long as you're happy, then nothing else matters,” she concluded with a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. “But you’re not happy right now, are you?” She questioned, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze as she sent you a sad smile. “I am happy-” you began, receiving a disapproving frown from Chaewon as she narrowed her eyes at you. “Honestly. I really am, it’s just bittersweet.” You admitted truthfully, letting your guard down.

“I loved her then, and I love her now,” you said, a rueful grin plastered on your face. “But I know we can’t ever be anything more, so it’s easier not to get close and wonder about what could be,” you declared with a sense of finality that worried her. “It’ll only hurt us more in the end,” you muttered sorrowfully, Chaewon forehead creasing in a deep frown at your words. “If you love each other then nothing else should matter,” she spoke with a naivety that your past self was all too familiar with. Catching a glimpse of your doubtful gaze downcast on the floor, she briefly tightened her grip on your hand. “What I mean is, you and I both know how hard it is to come by love in this line of work,” she said sadly, lifting her free hand to pat your shoulder.

“I know, but I can’t..” You muttered, meeting her gaze with glassy eyes. Loving her hurt too much, the risk of losing Yunjin again within the blink of an eye wasn’t a thought your heart could cope with. “Just, don’t regret it. Not like I do,” Chaewon whispered cryptically, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you looked at her with wide eyes. “I’ll tell you about it later,” she smiled sadly, blinking back the tears that sprang to her eyes. “Don’t take it for granted,” she warned, pointing her finger at you in an accusatory manner. You nodded swiftly at her words, pulling her into a hug in hopes of expressing your gratitude. She had always been there for you at your worst, knowing exactly what to say in every situation, it almost scared you how well she knew you.

A knock on the frame of your open door had you both reluctantly pulling apart. You blinked in shock at the sight of Yunjin standing in the threshold, eyebrows furrowed as she watched you both break apart. “The manager is asking for you, Chaewon,” she mumbled with an unreadable expression crossing her face as your leader leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Promise you’ll think about what I said,” she muttered in your ear, breath tickling your skin as you pulled back with a giggle. She smiled as you nodded your head, rising to her feet and brushing past Yunjin as she exited the room. The older girl frowned, sucking her lip between her teeth as she watched you from the doorway, who paid her no mind as you continued to decorate your room. Turning on her heel with a huff, she retreated back to the confines of her own room dejectedly.

~~

After completing your debut stage, everyone returned to the dorms with wide smiles, far too excited to sleep, so you settled on a celebratory movie night. Only it ended up with all the members passed out on the couch as the adrenaline faded, exhaustion from hours of endless practice finally catching up on everyone. Yunjin glanced around the room, a sigh slipping past her lips as she nudged the girl beside her. Chaewon whined at the contact, sleepy eyes fluttering open to a dark living room. “What?” She groaned, stretching her limbs absentmindedly. “You should go to bed,” Yunjin suggested, already leaning over to shake Kazuha and Sakura awake. The leader rose from the couch without another word, shuffling towards her room silently. Kazuha startled awake, blinking in confusion before she adjusted to her surroundings.

Too tired to speak, the two Japanese girls stumbled towards their room with linked arms. “Eunchae,” Yunjin whispered, lightly tapping the youngest’s cheek with her finger. “Five more minutes,” she groaned in protest, turning around to snuggle further into the couch cushions. “Go to bed,” the older woman ordered with a chuckle, pulling her up from the couch. “I could’ve just slept there,” Eunchae complained drowsily, peering at the older through half closed eyes. “You’ll thank me later,” Yunjin claimed, pushing the younger girl out of the room by her shoulders. “You just want to be alone with Y/n unnie,” Eunchae grumbled, the older of the two shaking her head in amusement.

Huffing, Yunjin finally made her way towards the couch where you slept peacefully. Sighing, she made a weak attempt to shake you awake from your deep slumber, but to no avail. Mind wandering back to the past, she recalled how you’d always been troublesome to wake, a fond smile creeping onto her lips at the memory. Yunjin hesitantly leant over, pulling you into her arms with a grunt as she carried you bridal style towards your room. You instantly clung to the fabric of her loose hoodie, snuggling into her chest as you mumbled sleepily. She chuckled to herself at the sight, kicking your door ajar as she entered your room. 

Yunjin gently placed you in your bed, pulling the covers up with a soft smile. Stepping back with a proud look reflecting in her eye, she stopped to admire you in your peaceful state. It wasn’t often she got to see you without a frown threatening to break out on your face lately, so this was a welcome change. She missed the days you would share your burdens with her, when she could hold you when you were upset, she missed everything about you. Unable to stop herself, she found her hand acting with a mind of its own as she reached out to carefully brush a stray strand of hair from your face. She paused, lingering before you began to stir, face twisting into an expression of discomfort as you groaned.

Startled, she pulled her hand back, whines leaving your lips as you began to toss and turn before settling. Releasing a sigh of relief, Yunjin turned on her heel, stepping away from you. A squeal left her parted lips as a soft grip on her hand tugged her backwards, stumbling to your side. She squinted in the darkness of your room, catching a glimpse of your wide eyes blinking away the sleep. Her eyes darted between where your hand gently grasped hers and your panicked expression. “Stay,” you muttered into the silence, voice shaking as your eyes filled with vulnerability. Yunjin’s eyebrows furrowed in worry at the way your fingers trembled around her wrist, eyes glued to her as if she could disappear at any moment.

Yunjin nodded wordlessly, sucking her lip between her teeth as you scooted over, lifting the covers up to offer her a place by your side. Inhaling sharply, she slipped under the covers, laying down beside you as she stared up at the ceiling in contemplation. She could feel your eyes on her, resulting in the familiar sensation of her heart beating harshly against her ribs. The faint brush of your fingertips against her own had her head tilting to the side, gaze meeting your own. “Sorry,” you mumbled, retracting your hand with a frown as you turned away from her. Gnawing on the inside of her cheek, she tentatively wrapped an arm around your torso. She heaved a sigh of relief as you relaxed in her hold, shifting backwards as you pushed yourself impossibly closer to her. 

You allowed her warmth to embrace you, reaching for her hand that rested comfortably at your stomach and threading your fingers together. She grinned hopefully at the action, snuggling further into the back of your neck. “I’m scared,” you whispered fearfully, Yunjin’s forehead creasing in a frown as the words slipped past your lips. Your grip on her hand tightened significantly, grasping onto her as if she would leave at any moment. Her eyes widened slightly at the realisation, squeezing your hand in assurance. “It’s okay, I’m here,” she spoke, her warm breath tickling your skin, goosebumps rising in her wake. “I’m not going anywhere,” she promised, feeling you calm in her arms. Your breathing began to even out as you slipped back into a peaceful slumber, Yunjin sighing contentedly as she followed closely after.

~~

Yunjin awoke to sunlight streaming through the gap in the curtain, blinking her eyes as she squinted to adjust to the brightness. Your soft breath tickled the skin of her neck where your head was nuzzled comfortably, your fingers curled around the soft fabric of her hoodie. Her arm was wrapped securely around your waist, your leg draped loosely over hers as you slept soundlessly. Shuffling carefully, she gently removed your head from her chest, placing it on the soft pillow as she shifted to face you. With her free hand, she reached up to comb her fingers through your tousled hair, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as you unconsciously leaned into her touch. She allowed her hands to travel to your face, caressing every feature with the pad of her thumb as you began to stir.

A groan slipped past your lips as you woke up, blindly snuggling further into the warmth that greeted you. “Good morning,” Yunjin’s raspy voice met your ears, eyes snapping open as you gazed at her in shock before realisation crossed your face. “Morning,” you mumbled back shyly, painfully aware of the way her bare legs were tangled with yours, warm smooth skin pressed firmly against yours. “About last night..” she trailed off, attempting to meet your avoidant gaze. You shuffled uncomfortably, turning to face the blank ceiling. “Can we not do this now?” You pleaded, but Yunjin shook her head firmly in refusal, gaze hardening as she sat up abruptly. “No. You don’t get to do that,” she said, tone laced with frustration as she stared down at you with narrowed eyes. “You can’t just let me in whenever it suits you best and then push me away again,” she said, leaving no room for discussion. “I love you, Y/n, but I can’t do that to myself, it hurts too much,” she frowned deeply.

Sighing, you raised yourself to sit in front of her, grasping both of her shoulders firmly. “That’s not what I meant, I just wanted to enjoy this for a little longer.” You pushed her back down on the bed by her shoulders, planting yourself atop her, your face pressed to the crook of her neck. Yunjin blinked in surprise, confusion evident on her face, but she unconsciously moved to wrap her arms around your waist. “I missed you,” you muttered, breath tickling the skin of her neck once more, sending a chill down her spine. “I promise I won’t push you away ever again,” you mumbled, nuzzling your nose against her neck. “I was just scared,” you admitted, Yunjin listening silently as she waited patiently for you to continue.

“I thought that if I let you in that you’d leave me again,” you spoke with a frown plastered on your face. “But it turns out that being away from you hurts more after all. So I’d rather love you and lose you than lose without ever loving you again,” you confessed, raising your head to gaze into her eyes. “You won’t lose me, I’m never leaving you again,” she promised with a hopeful smile, caressing your cheek with the pad of her thumb. You nodded, returning her smile with one of your own, her face suddenly brightening significantly. “You really still love me?” She asked with a stupidly wide grin, a chuckle escaping your lips at the question. “How could I not? I don’t think I ever stopped loving you, Huh Yunjin.” You admitted with a sheepish smile, her eyes sparkling with joy at the confession.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do since the second I saw you again,” Yunjin grinned, a smirk tugging at her lips. You raised an inquisitive brow, eyes dancing with curiosity as she gazed at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. Without wasting another second, she surged forwards, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut in content as you kissed her back with just as much passion, conveying a thousand unsaid words between you. Pulling back to catch your breath, Yunjin chased your lips with an eager grin, hands looping behind your neck as she pulled you back in for another kiss. You smiled against her lips, basking in the moment you’d been longing for ever since you’d initially parted ways. “I missed you too and I love you so much,” she muttered against your lips, uncaring of her newfound addiction to your soft pink lips.

“I’m glad that you two made up an all, but shouldn’t you at least shut the door,” Eunchae’s voice startled the two of you apart. Her face was morphed into a look of disgust, horror evident on her features. You groaned in embarrassment, falling limp on top of a chuckling Yunjin who wordlessly shooed the youngest away with a wave of her hand. “Chaewon unnie is gonna scold us,” you whined into her chest, feeling her body shudder with laughter. “Don’t laugh, she’s scary when it comes to her children,” your eyes reflected a look of terror as you playfully smacked her in warning. Yunjin only grinned, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before she rolled out of bed, making her escape. “Tell her I’m not here!” She shouted over her shoulder, running out of the room. “Get back here!!” You yelled after her, sprinting down the halls, hot on her tail.

justice for eunchae :(

[curse-04]

Get to know me tag

Thanks for the tag, @rmwb-fanfics.

Last song: The First Departure by Sarah Schachner.

Currently listening to: Sunlit Grave by Saint Mesa.

Last show: The Mandalorian, but I want to start The Last of Us, or His Dark Materials season 3 tomorrow.

Currently watching: Black Panther 2 for the first time because I couldn't be arsed to do so before

Currently reading: Ack! Thats going to be a long list. Okay, so we've got "Regretfully Uncaring" and "A Short Life Full Of Long Years" both by RMWB. "Peverell's Progeny" and "Knight of Mine" both by GinnyWPotter. The Lost Horcrux by LilyEvansJan30. Brumous by SeriouslySam. Quidditch is For Losers by Ginfizz. Disrespecting Authority by Ray_Writes. There are like, 3 or 4 others, but yeah. That's all the WiPs that I always look forward to.

As for fics that are already complete or unfinished, I just finished Meaning of One by Sorvan yesterday. Today, I'm starting either True Prisoner of Azkaban by Kage James, or Blackboards and Broomsticks by Glisseo.

As for books, I'm reading The Ink Black Heart by Robert Galbraith (or JKR).

Current obsession: I'd say writing, but i picked that obsession up about 7-8 months ago, so I'm gonna say cooking. I want to cook. I even got my mom to take me on as her apprentice, so we'll see how it goes.

I'm only tagging @ginnyw-potter (it's okay if you don't wanna do this, there's no compulsion or anything) because I literally know no one else that hasn't been tagged on that initial post, lol. If anyone else wants to join in, feel free.

[ethresijournal]

Entry 40

For the first time since the death of my sister, I find myself responsible for the life of another. And this time, I do not know what to do. 

Sera Rivras had brought me to his curious little shop to present to me the fate of the woman who wished to drown me. The raven-haired Dunmeri woman known as Telvuli. I did not expect to see her. Even less so that my confession will bring so much pain and misery upon another (how I can sleep peacefully again knowing that? Seeing that?). She was on the floor. battered, broken. Knives plunged deep into her flesh. At first, I was questioning if the woman still lives - and, yet she stirred soon after the moment she heard his voice. I had never seen a such degree of fear. No. Terror. In someone's eyes. What he had done to her had to go find beyond the levels of torture or pain I can even imagine, no- comprehend, to leave a creature so devoid of a concept of herself, personality and traits which made her-... well. Her. It was like staring at the mask of fear itself, lacking any semblance of humanity and using her sentience as a way of assuring her survival. A tool. I did not feel anger, back then. Maybe, regretfully - a tint of satisfaction. One which was quickly replaced by pity and perhaps a feeling not too different from grief. I grieved the woman who, once maybe cruel and confident was now debased to... this. Partially, perhaps - I grieved my conscience, for it was my confession that led her there. I was the source of her suffering. He told me she will be sold off as a slave as the final humiliation and punishment for her crimes against the Circle. A fitting example that the laws of this place cannot be broken. Disgusted by the offer at first, I refused - only to bring his ire onto me later, when I decided to change my mind. I thought that taking her in will be a sign of mercy, lest she was sold off to someone cruel and uncaring. Now, however, I question my decision. The woman is a vampire - if some of her ill temper had survived whatever cruel procedure he exposed her to, she might also prove a fierce opponent. I am now endangering not only myself but Sindarion, who is an innocent bystander in this whole matter. Secondly, there are few things I despise more than the concept of slavery and indenture - and yet, who am I now, if not a master of one? I do not know what to do. I do not know how to-... feel about sera Rivras. About the man who watched another suffer so eagerly, almost gleefully examining his craftsmanship which left another sentient creature so broken - and moments later left another playful suggestion of a deal, as if the first matter had proved boring and tiresome enough. As if another life did not matter. Is his cruelty an innate trait which somehow pairs with his kindness, allowing the two to co-exist in this meddlesome, horrid marriage that makes his tumultuous personality? Is it a trait earned, one he uses to protect himself? Or to protect another? Was my friendship the reason why he went to such lengths to bring misery upon another - or was he acting with the good of the Circle in mind? The more I think about it, the less I know. I do not feel like I am the victim but a villain - one which had seen another take the entirety of punishment. ...would his judgment be just as straightforward, just as unwavering if not for our friendship? It is perhaps best if I put some distance between us. He deserves better.

[florestmoon]

Into The Fog Pt. 4 (Frank Morrison X Reader)

The rest of Legion finds out about your role in the entity.

Pt. 1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt. 5

Warnings: Mentions of blood and violence.

Notes: sorry for the long wait guys ! This is a pretty small chapter that’s kinda a filler . Enjoy <3

If there was one thing Joey thought he was certain about Frank after knowing him for a year , it was that he rarely had his emotions on his sleeve.

It was something that he took note of through out their friendship. Joey was always talked down by others, especially his family, for his tendencies to allow his anxiety take a larger form on his every day life.

So seeing Frank set out an aura of collectiveness and uncare for the world, he couldn’t help but feel inspired to achieve the same mindset. When their Legion formed with Julie introducing the older teen to her two best friends, it was the start of a new path for Joey. Their days were full of small petty crimes going from shoplifting to vandalizing abandoned buildings in the small town.

Joey thought he knew their leader after a year of the same routine within their group. But the day that you were announced missing after the big party, he suddenly saw a side of Frank he didn’t know existed.

He knew about you and Frank. It wasn't something Frank hid. Whatever bond you two had was something that couldn’t be ignored, despite Julie’s snide comments that you should have been left in the past behind Frank’s back. Joey notice the small glances Frank would make whenever you ended up being at a shop they were pocketing items from. He noticed the smiles and waves you threw at him in the school hallways or the nights Frank’s cancelled their hangouts last minute only for Joey to see his car parked in his neighborhood, where you also lived.

After your disappearance, it was although Frank suddenly didn’t know what to do with his emotions. Even if Frank pushed them away when they tried talking about the situation, it was clear as day on his face. It was the first time Joey seen him look so afraid.

So when Joey had entered the lodge after a tiresome trial, the look on Frank’s face was enough for him to pinpoint the problem.

Frank stood in front of the fireplace in the middle of the ground floor. The light illuminated his sharp features. The tension in his jaw contrasted the softness in his eyes, sorrow pouring out of them as he turned his head towards Joey.

Joey wanted to asked if he was okay, but he simply opened his mouth then shut it. His eyes falling into Susie who sat on the large steps behind Frank, arms wrapped around her legs. Her face was pale, frown tugging on the corner of lips while glancing between Frank and Joey.

“Y/N’s here.” Frank stated dryly, finally turning towards Joey.

Joey cleared his throat, the statement confirming his fear. He couldn't deny that the thought never crossed his mind when they first were taken. Even Susie had nearly spoke on it, a small “What if..” echoing in the small space of one of the rooms before she stopped herself and simply let Joey hold her.

“Is she..a survivor?” He asked regretfully. He knew the answer.

Frank nodded, sighing as he rubbed the palm of his hands against his eyes. Although trying to get rid of painful image behind his eyelids.

“She was in my trial.” He continues, opening his eyes. “She was afraid of me. She looked at me like..like I was some monster. Like I was going to hurt her.”

We are monsters. Joey looked away from Frank, holding back on speaking on his thought.

He couldn't blame you for your reaction. The memories were still fresh in his mind.

Blood coated his fingers as he gripped onto the limp body. The weight of the overweight janitor caused him to loose his footing multiple times. His attempt to constrain his whimpers down was unsuccessful.

“Joey get a fucking grip!” Frank snapped , nearly letting go of his own armful of the man’s legs when Joey slipped on the snow once more. Trees surrounded them, looking down at the group as they made their way deep into the woods.

Panic seized in his chest, tears clouding his vision as he dropped the upper half of the dead body. The view of his jacket covered in the blood that spilled from the open wound under the man’s chin finally pushed Joey over the edge. His breathing quickened yet he felt like he wasn’t getting enough air. His lungs constricted, knees buckling as the snow and trees all become one in a blur.

Suddenly he felt his body be slammed onto a hard surface, bark digging into his back as he came to Frank holding him up against a tree. The look in his eyes terrified him even more. For a moment, he was afraid he was going to be under the knife next.

“Get a hold of yourself.” Frank gritted through his teeth. “We don’t have time for your stupid panic attack right now, man.”

“..is that clear ?” Frank’s voice broke through the memory. Joey refocused on his friend. Frank was looking at him with the same look from his memory.

“What?”

“Every trial, we’re going to make sure she escapes.” Frank repeats, looking at Susie who nods quickly. “She’s afraid, it’ll make her trust us. I just need to talk to her again.”

Joey noted the strain in his voice. He nodded along. He honestly didn’t know how he would have reacted if he were to see you before Frank mentioned it, but hurting was never going to be on the list. He almost wishes he never does get you in a trial, the shame of what he was would only grow deeper.

“Of course dude, we won’t hurt her.” He confirms, easing the tension in Frank’s posture.

“Yeah Frank, we’ll make sure she can trust us again. Right Julie ?” Susie speaks up, the paleness in her face easing as she looked across the room.

Joey didn’t notice Julie’s figure by one of the windows, sat on its sill. Her back against the frame as she looked outside with a bored expression.

“Julie?” Frank asks, his eyes falling on the knife the blonde was twirling in his hand. There was a twitch in his expression at her lack of response, his voice growing louder. “Hey Jules, are you even listening?”

The twirling comes to a stop. Julie’s bored expression morphing into an annoyed one as she looks at her friend’s like they had offended her.

“Our job is to kill those survivors.”

Both Joey and Susie blink in surprise at her response. Frank stares at her for a moment before his expression darkens. “What?”

“Our only duty for whatever controls this world is to kill those survivors.” She explains once more, looking away from Frank. “She’s no different.”

Susie gasps, looking at her best friend like she grew another head. Her hands tugging on the ends of her sweater nervously as she looks at Joey to say something. He stays silent, still shocked.

“What the hell are you trying to say?” Frank asks.

Julie sighs. “She’s just another survivor to us, so why should I spare her in my trials and risk getting punished by the fucking thing that brought us here?”

“No one’s going to fucking lay a hand on her in any trials ” Frank warns, his gaze narrowing. “Do you hear yourself ? She doesn’t deserve this.”

“She doesn’t deserve anything from us, Frank. She can’t even last long in a damn chase !” She mocks, rolling her eyes. “How is that deserving of being given hatch ?”

Joey watches the realization hit Frank, his eyes widening at her admission.

“You had a trial with her?” He asks, closing the distance between him and Julie in quick strides. Hands grabbing onto her shoulders as he forces her face him. “Did you hurt her?”

Julie glared up at him, attempting to push him off but his grip didn’t falter. It only tightened as he shook her lightly. “What the fuck did you do Julie?!”

“She was my obsession” She admits, finally managing to push him off. Her hands gripping onto her knife. “I had to mori the obsession in my trial.”

Joey was at loss what to do. He wanted to intervene, the look on Frank’s face alone had him afraid of what might transpire, but he was stumped by Julie’s actions.

It's Susie who finally speaks up.

“She's our friend, Julie.” She’s staring at her wide eyed, disbelief unhidden. “Why would you..”

“She wasn’t our friend Suz.” Julie scoffs at the youngest, finally making eye contact with Frank who was trying to regain his posture, chest rising in quick moments as he felt his anger rising. “That prude didn’t even want to be around us. She thought she was better than us. Thinking she was better-”

“Shes not like you.” Frank seethes, the tension finally snapping. A hand reaching out to slam her against the wall, a shout of surprise from Susie and the loud collision of her back with wall caused for Joey to flinch. Frank’s other hand twitched as though reaching for his own knife. Joey jumped into action, afraid of what Frank will do, and runs towards his friend to stop him.

“She’s not like us, Frank.” Julie replies, pausing Joey’s in his steps. He felt a brief pang at her implications. The shame and guilt rushing into him once more.

Frank seemed to have the same reaction. He stops from reaching for his knife, body freezing.

“Did you forget why we’re here ? What you made us do ?” She spits, tilting her head up to bring her face closer to Frank. “You think Y/N is going to accept what you did, who you are?”

Finally, she pushes his hand off her. Her gaze not breaking from his. Frank stays silent. Paralyzed from the truth rooted in her words.

“We both know how she’ll look at you once she founds out the truth. Did you think you can hide that ?”

She waits for a response. But none come. Frank stays silent.

She throws him a disgusted look, pushing past him and making her way to the stairs where Susie watches. Tears already staining her freckled cheeks.

[random-mha-thoughts]

Cabin Fever (Dabi x Reader)

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, pwp

Prompt: Winter with Dabi, sweater, flannel

Summary: Dabi and you get away on a mini vacation in the mountains and end up inside due to the snow.

Word count: 1,384

Tags: @rintomoj @yamichxn @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: My winter entry for the Seasonal Love Event being held by my Discord server!  This is just fluff without too much plot, but I hope you guys enjoy the little bit of coziness it might give you~  Stay tuned for the other entries by my friends!

Seasonal Love Event Masterlist

"I hate to be that kind of boyfriend, but what's the point of this?"  Dabi trails behind me, boredom visible in his entire expression.

"Because it's our anniversary?"  My eyebrow quirks up.  "Don't be rude."

"Right."

His last word earns an elbow in the chest from me.  "I thought you would've liked spending time all alone with me, considering you're always complaining about your friends constantly butting in."

"Yeah,  but did we have to go all the way into the mountains?"  His eyes dart around cautiously.  "It's a little too secluded for my taste."

"What, are you scared you might cause a fire?"  I unload more of our bags out of the trunk.  "And as long as we're laying out gripes, it's not fair that you can be out in winter in just that stupid flannel and not be cold."

The man glances down at his black and blue flannel shirt, unbuttoned to reveal just a white T-shirt, a stark contrast to my coat-and-beanie attire.  "You can thank my quirk for that."  His long arm slithers around my shoulders, his natural warmth a welcome hug to cut through the cold seeping through even my heavy winter coat.  "I could share it with you, maybe in more ways than one."

"Ugh, you and your greasy comments."  I shove him away, before quickly pulling him back in when the warmth regretfully withdraws. "You can't go a day without making an innuendo."

"Isn't that why you're with me in the first place?"

"No, I'm with you despite that."  I hit his chest and carry the bags into the cabin in front of us.  "Hurry up and help me take in the rest of the bags, we have a lot of unpacking and stuff to do.

Eventually, we get ourselves settled into the cabin.  My uncle usually rents these cabins to other couples, but I asked him when it was available for us to get away from the city for a bit.  Work was getting a bit hard for both of us to take - obviously Dabi's work is much more demanding on him - so we needed to get away.

"It's a pretty small place, cozy I guess."  He came back after touring the small cabin in its entirety.  "Big enough for just the two of us."

I'm unpacking some of the plastic utensils and plates we plan to eat using.  "Yeah, my family sometimes vacations here.  There were nine of us the last time, so some of us slept on the floor."

"Well," his scarred limbs slither around me again, "At least now there aren't seven other people to bother us."

"Dabi, I swear, do you have anything else in your thick head?"  I hit him with a plate and shove him away.  "There's a grill and fire pit in the back, we could probably have a little barbecue to ourselves tomorrow night."

His low voice hums right next to my ear.  "I don't know if you checked the weather, babe, but apparently we're due to get a lot of snow tomorrow."

My jaw drops and I whine out, "You're not serious!  Damn it!  Well that plan's down the drain now."

"And we'll have to do something else to warm ourselves up..."

"GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER ALREADY!"

His raven hair shuffles as he throws his head back in a throaty laugh, leaning back against the fridge to look down his nose at me.  He's enjoy this teasing a little too much.  It's normal for Dabi to be a flirty little shit, but he must be more charged up at the thought of us being all alone in a house in the mountains together.  Where no one can probably hear us.

Now that I think about it, that makes sense.

"If I knew your hormones were gonna go into overdrive being alone, I wouldn't have planned our weekend like this, we could've gone to an amusement park or something."  I move away from him into the living room.

"It's not such a bad thing though.  Might as well take advantage of our situation, right?"

"Dabi!"

~

The next night, the two of you were stuck in the cabin, the snow storm outside raging on despite your vacation plans.  Wind howls outside as it rushes through the swaying trees.  It was a good thing my uncle left a few decks of cards and some board games so we wouldn't be terribly bored out here, probably for when he rents them to others.

"Your turn."

I look up from my phone and down at the board game.  Gathering the dice in my hand, I make my next move.  "I took some nice pictures today, wanna see?"

He scoots next to me, his pinky finger catching onto the long sleeve of my sweater as I flip through my gallery.  "That one's nice, send that to me."

"I really like that one too," I smile gleefully.  That picture was actually my favorite; it was one I took at dawn while Dabi was still sleeping.  The barren trees glistened in the approaching golden light of the rising Sun.  The entire sky and lake reflection was bathed in a marriage of pinks and oranges, fighting the dark blue at the edge of the photo while the ice on the branches twinkled as if stars.  "I think it's gonna be my new phone background for a while."

"Or you could sell it and make some money off it," Dabi suggests, picking up the dice from where they landed after my toss.

Usually, I would rebuke him for such an idea, but the thought of making a few bucks off my amateur photography is tempting.  "Maybe, I'll think about it.  Or I'll just print it out to hang in the apartment."

I notice Dabi had left his thick flannel draping over the couch messily.  For the love of everything good.  "Babe, at least hang your stuff up in the closet."  I pick up his clothes and hang it in the closet by the door, retrieving my own jacket from there to hang over my shoulders.  My fingers were a tiny bit cold from the weather outside.  Although the heat was on, it wasn't up to my standards as someone who's generally always cold.

"You still have that?"  It's almost teasing, but there's the slightest bit of pride and affection behind his teal eyes resting on me.

"Of course, you never let me return it," I bite back in a similarly playful manner before snuggling back next to him on the floor.

Dabi and I first met by chance in the city, waiting for the bus.  I was probably shaking like a leaf next to him, to the point where I knew I was becoming a minor annoyance to him due to my chattering teeth.  To my surprise, he shed his down jacket and draped it around my shoulders.

I was quick to protest and refuse it.  "No, it's okay, I don't want you to be cold like that."

That day, he was wearing just a black hoodie.  "Nah, it's fine.  I'm hot blooded anyway."

Ever since that day when we started talking, I realized this man didn't wear a jacket at all, not even in the dead of winter on the most frigid days.  When we would go on dates, he would wear one just in case I got cold.  It warms my heart to this day that he would even think of such an affectionate gesture.

Dabi's bare arms wrap around my body.  "If you were cold, you should've told me, I would've warmed you up myself."  His head rests on mine as he says innocently, "In more ways than one."

"Get away."  I shove his chest, but he remains strong.

"You wouldn't push away your human heater, you love me too much," he chuckles, placing a kiss on my temple.

I hum, simply basking in his warmth.  "Isn't it funny how you ended up dating someone who's perpetually cold?"

He casually shrugs again.  "At least my quirk has a non-destructive purpose, I guess."

Although he says it so uncaring, I know his own warm affection blooms in his chest at the thought of us being matched because of our opposing qualities.  "Opposites attract, huh?" I breathe, tracing the staples on his hand as he pulls me closer into his space, eliminating any distance between us.

"Not really. You do have a fiery temperament, sometimes when-"

"Shut up!"

[moony-meadow]

The Very Hungry Beelzebub (3)

Previous Part / Next Part

“Uhhh…” Beelzebub was frozen. He was clearly unsure whether to reveal everything to Mammon in hopes of getting his help, or concocting some kind of lie to protect both his and my dignity. And I had a feeling that, unlike Mammon, Beel didn’t want to make the decision without getting my approval first.

“It’s okay, Beel, you can tell him,” I sighed. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to finding out what Mammon’s reaction would be. I honestly wasn’t entirely sure what to expect.

Though I couldn’t see it, I could easily imagine the confused expression currently painted on Mammon’s face as he wondered why he’d just heard my disembodied voice. No doubt he was looking around the room, searching for the source of the sound. “Huh? What was that?” he questioned, sounding thoroughly befuddled.

Poor Beel was going to be forced to explain the bizarre situation. Of course, I could try to do it, but it seemed like something that would be more easily done by someone not hidden away inside a stomach.

I could feel Beel take a nervous breath. He was obviously not looking forward to this. Despite being younger (and less powerful) than Mammon, he had never really acted like it. Beel would never take orders from the second oldest, and he showed no qualms about stepping on his toes. But now, he was anxious about admitting the truth to Mammon. What exactly he was afraid of, I didn’t know. Did he think his brother would be angry, or disappointed?

“After I started to recover from being sick, I got hungry...really hungry,” Beel began. “I-I wasn’t in control of myself. I ate everything in the kitchen.” I placed a hand on one of the fleshy walls, hoping it would come across as reassuring. “And then...and then Y/N came in.” He winced as he said it, and honestly, I did too.

“What exactly are ya sayin’?” Mammon’s voice had taken on an edge, a dangerous edge I hadn’t ever heard before.

Beel swallowed hard. “Mammon, I...I shrank Y/N and ate them.” He spit out the last part of the sentence, as if he was worried if he didn’t say it fast enough, he would never say it.

“You what?!” Mammon roared. I heard a commotion, and then suddenly everything around me lurched. I threw my arms out to brace myself against the walls. I definitely had not missed being thrown around like a ragdoll inside someone’s stomach, completely subject to their massive movements. “No, that can’t be right. Y/N has a pact with you. They woulda ordered you to stop.”

I could visualize the kicked puppy look on Beel’s face perfectly as he admitted to what he’d done in his hunger-fueled delirium. “They couldn’t. I put a silencing spell on them.”

More rough movements rocked my world, and then I heard, as well as felt, an echoing slam. I had a suspicion Mammon had just shoved Beel against a wall, which was difficult for me to imagine. I didn’t think I had ever seen him get violent with his brothers, or anyone for that matter.

“Mammon! Relax, I’m fine!” I shouted. The last thing I wanted was for things to get more physical, for my own sake as well as for Beel and Mammon’s. Seeing the brothers bicker and get at each other’s throats was commonplace, but I never enjoyed witnessing them coming to blows.

“Y/N?” Mammon exclaimed, his tone of voice instantly shifting. “Y/N, if you didn’t order Beel not to hurt you then you’re in danger! You’ll get digested--”

“Don’t worry, as soon as I got my voice back I made sure that wouldn’t happen,” I promised. The unfiltered concern in Mammon’s voice was more than a little endearing. The guy was quick to play the aloof, uncaring demon, though of course I knew that was all an act. It was refreshing to hear him being genuine and not attempting to hide his true feelings.

I could feel Beelzebub’s heartbeat begin to come down from its heightened rate as the tension in the room began to lessen. Once again he placed a gentle hand against his stomach, and I reciprocated with my much smaller hand on the other side.

“The only problem is I can’t bring them back up the same way you did,” Beel told Mammon regretfully.

“I guess that means you found ‘em tasty, huh?” Mammon said in a grumpy tone. Evidently he was aware of the little stipulation that prevented the Avatar of Gluttony from throwing up. I wasn’t shocked to hear Mammon was none too pleased about “his human” getting eaten by another demon. The Avatar of Greed was nothing if not possessive.

“Even the worst humans have a good flavor,” Beel remarked. “Of course Y/N would be leagues ahead of them.” My heart fluttered at the compliment, though it was a bit spoiled by the context of said compliment. I was glad Beel considered me to be “leagues ahead” of the worst humans, though I didn’t really like the fact that that seemed to go hand in hand with my level of tastiness.

“None of that matters,” I called out, eager to direct the conversation away from how enjoyable I apparently was to eat. “What matters is getting me the hell out of here.”

“Damn right,” Mammon was quick to reply. I had a feeling his determination was in large part attributed to his possessiveness.

Before Mammon had eaten me, when he was trying to convince me to agree to the whole endeavor in the first place, he had mentioned a backup place in case he was unable to cough me up naturally. His exact words had been, “if I can’t get ya out naturally, I could always just swallow the end of a string and pull ya out that way.” While the idea did sound pretty ridiculous and silly, I didn’t see any reason why it couldn’t work.

“Mammon, do you really think Beel swallowing the end of a string would work?” I questioned. I would be more than a little pissed if he had only offered that as a suggestion to trick me into letting myself get swallowed.

“Oh yeah, good idea!” Mammon exclaimed. “Lemme go find somethin’ that’ll work.”

“Wait, hold on a second--” Beel started to protest but was quickly interrupted.

“Beel, you should go to Y/N’s room so we don’t gotta worry about anyone walkin’ in on us.” After that came the sound of hurried footsteps exiting the room.

Beel remained still for a moment before releasing a soft sigh. “I’m going to make my way to your room,” he announced. “I doubt we’ll run into anyone at this hour, but just try not to move too much just in case.” He gave one last soft pat to his stomach before heading off.

While Beel definitely seemed to be making an effort to move slowly and carefully, the ride inside his stomach was still fairly unsteady. While it may have been my second time being eaten, that didn’t mean I was anywhere near used to the experience of riding around in a giant stomach.

Thankfully the trip to my bedroom didn’t last long and was completely uneventful. Once I heard the sound of the door clicking shut behind us, I let out a relieved sigh. “Is it okay if I sit down?” Beel asked tentatively.

A little smile formed on my face. Beel was so considerate and sweet. It was definitely a different experience being in his stomach than in Mammon’s. Aside from Beel’s far more mindful behavior, his stomach was also significantly bigger than Mammon’s had been. Of course that wasn’t surprising. He was the Avatar of Gluttony after all.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” I replied with a light chuckle.

My environment creased slightly, signalling that Beelzebub had gone ahead and taken a seat. I myself took a seat at the bottom of the stomach, reclining slightly. Feeling much more confident that I would make it out of this situation alive, I allowed myself to relax a little bit. To be honest, being inside someone’s stomach was kind of comfy in its own weird way. I had gotten one of the best night’s sleep I’d had in awhile when I’d spent the night with Mammon. Of course, I would never admit that. Mammon’s head was already big enough as it was.

“Hey, Y/N?” I could feel Beel tracing patterns on the outside of his stomach as he spoke. “You know that I don’t, you know, just see you as food, right?” There was nervousness in his voice, as well as a large dose of guilt. He clearly hadn’t forgiven himself for what he’d done despite me having already given my forgiveness.

I paused for a moment. All seven of the demon brothers viewing me as tasty in some capacity was something I had accepted a while ago. I had forged friendships with them knowing that fact. At the start, the only thing keeping any of them from eating me had been my status as an exchange student. However, I believed things had changed. I couldn’t imagine any of the brothers intentionally trying to bring harm to me anymore. Even Belphegor had gone from wanting to kill me to being a close friend.

So maybe they all still secretly imagined eating me. It didn’t matter. Because I was convinced that none of them would put that desire before my wellbeing--so long as they were in their right mind of course. “Don’t worry, I know,” I reassured the demon.

“You’re sure?” Beel asked uncertainly. “Because I know I always talk about how delicious you look, and I ask if I can eat you sometimes--”

“Hey, I get it...well I sort of do anyway,” I said. “Humans are usually on the demon menu. I suppose it’s normal for you to want to eat us.” I added with a shrug.

I tried to imagine the situation from the demon perspective. To put it into human terms, I had to guess it would be like having a delectable ice cream sundae walking around and talking. I definitely wouldn’t feel comfortable eating a sentient ice cream...but that was beside the point.

“That doesn’t make what I did okay,” Beel stated firmly.

I sighed. “Well no, but like I said, that wasn’t really you.” I didn’t care that he wanted to eat me when he was in his right mind. All that mattered to me was that he didn’t actually do it.

It seemed likely that Beel would try to argue with me, but he didn’t get the chance before I heard the bedroom door opening. “Alright, let’s get Y/N outta there!” Mammon announced.

[fandom-necromancer]

Past, Present, Future

This was prompted by the amazing @skyewillows! I know you likely intended this to be the other way around, but this is the idea that first came to me XD Also sorry for the delay! Hope you enjoy some angst!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 (Warnings: near death experience, slight body horror?, anti-android sentiment)

It had been supposed to be easy. It had been supposed to be a simple mission: infiltrate the warehouse in the early morning and gather intel on the operations inside. They had known the warehouse was used to store and refine Red Ice. They had known they were the newest dealership in Detroit and therefore would soon get trouble with the other people in the business or get integrated in their doing. That was what should have made it easy: Inexperienced humans afraid or at least worried about what was to come. It shouldn’t have ended like this, Nines thought as he laid in the trunk of a car, motor control deactivated and helpless in the hands of the competing drug den.

All had happened far too fast: Gavin and Nines had infiltrated the warehouse and hid in close proximity to the people milling about. They had learned most of what they had wanted to by the early afternoon, from how they synthesized the drug to where they planned on dealing it to the people. Gavin and Nines were both pretty confident all they would have to do now was wait for the night to leave in silence. Instead, a package arrived in the afternoon that the idiots promptly opened, setting off the bomb inside that ripped through the many shelves as well as one supporting pillar. The explosive chain reaction of instable intermediates in the refinement process from Thirium to Red Ice as the first explosion reached a tank did the rest. Nines could only shield Gavin from the falling debris as the roof and walls were coming down. His human had been his only priority at that moment and even now, when he should worry about his own fate, it filled him with relief to know Gavin had been alive up to that point. His memory had become a bit hazy afterwards as a steel rod from the concrete wall had pierced through his chest while protecting his human, pinning him in between two pieces of debris.

He remembered Gavin’s shocked face, his Thirium-coated hands on his face and… he had been speaking then… what had Gavin said to him? Nines only knew how he had interrupted him with the plea to flee as his sensors picked up on distant voices ordering others to search for survivors. He remembered how Gavin had ran. And then he had found himself in this trunk, immobilized and patched up where the steel rod had pushed through his body. He didn’t want to know what would happen next. Patching up an android to take with them was nothing they did from the goodness of their heart. And knowing that they knew their way around an android’s system well enough to immobilise one made Nines bad feeling even worse.

He tried to reconstruct the path his capturers had taken from the pattern of turns and times spent at red lights. Unfortunately, his GPS was offline too, so all he could do was look for overlaps in his maps. He had found several matches by the time the car stopped, and the engine was killed, but it helped little in forming an escape plan. He was still immobile and as he was lifted out of the car, he couldn’t make out enough to determine which one of his preconstructions had been accurate. A dark bag was put over his head, then he could hear someone giving orders again: ‘Get it inside and hook it up. At least this pig can be of use for us.’

Nines wished he could have struggled. He wished he could have seen where he was dragged or that he could have contacted someone. Even if it was ultimately hopeless, he wouldn’t feel so damn hopeless. His stress levels were dangerously high, and he knew he did the android equivalent of panicking as he was dropped on the floor and could hear computer fans as well as the very familiar sound of a maintenance rig being initialised. Not much later he was hoisted up and connected to the rig. Only then he felt his motor control being returned to him and with the strength of the soldier unit he had been designed to be, he pulled at the arms holding him captive. But however hard he struggled, all he managed was flinging the bag off his head as the arms compensated his thrashing and ultimately restrained him fully. ‘Let me go!’, he hollered even before he could see the lone man that stood leaned over the terminal. ‘Let me go and maybe I’ll grant you a quick death!’

Fury was the only reaction he could manage in his situation, unwilling to let his desperation and fear overwhelm him. He couldn’t give up yet. Even if his pre-constructions showed him no possible way out of here if there wasn’t external help. No, he had to ignore that. Humans made mistakes. Maybe this one had made an error when attaching him to the rig. Maybe he- ‘Shut up, tin-can!’

It could have as well been a punch to the Thirium pump. With how much affection these words could be uttered in the right moment, the right place and time and person, it hurt almost physically to hear it in the context it had long lost. Gavin had said it so many times, these exact words. In the precinct, meaning it. On a case, when Nines thought it was a good idea to remind him of proper police conduct. At a bar night when Nines had been a “phcking know-it-all”. On the backseat of their car when he had reminded him this position wouldn’t be comfortable at all. In the early morning when Nines tried to coax him out of bed when Gavin would have liked to cuddle a little longer.

But no, this time it was uncaring. Condescending. A simple disregard to his feelings, thoughts and person. The words of someone who considered him a mere thing. Switching to his soldier protocols he tried again to push and pull against the arms keeping him immobile with no regards to his component’s integrity. He only managed to pull some of his pseudomuscles apart, the rig didn’t move one bit. ‘Stop that, can’t have you losing any more Thirium!’

Nine looked up to the man that pulled a thick flexible tube over and lost his composure. He couldn’t keep up the façade of that fearless predator when he got the feeling he knew exactly what would happen next. And that recognition filled him with pure terror. ‘No. No, stop!’ The human ignored him, stepping closer and onto the platform. ‘Please, don’t!’, Nines begged, trying to keep the end of the tube in his vision, but the man had already stepped behind him. ‘No, please, I’ll do whatever you want. Just please, don’t-‘ ‘Shut up!’, the man interrupted him, his fingers roughly prodding his neck until he had found the right place to press to open the hatch to his neck port. ‘You are just a machine, don’t pretend you feel anything. This is just a fancy program Cyberlife installed to keep their property intact. Playing with human minds, that’s all you plastics ever did.’ Nines wanted to protest, to plead, but the man had already pushed the tube into the port used to refill or replace an android’s Thirium. The RK900 blinked at the sudden intrusion, but the man was already stepping back, attention back on the terminal.

‘Please’, Nines tried once again, knowing it was utterly futile. ‘Please, don’t do this. I have family. We have a cat. Please, I just want to get back to my life!’ ‘You have nothing, bot. Your family has you and can buy another one – sorry – adopt another one now that these idiots were fooled by Cyberlife’s plan.’ ‘That doesn’t make any sen-‘, Nines had begun to protest but choked on his words as he felt the rig accessing his Thirium pump and redirecting the flow without him being able to intervene. ‘No!’, he screamed, static mixing with his voice. ‘No, you can’t do this! Please. Stop!’ The man just stepped back and smirked at him. ‘Sweet dreams’, he teased, then turned and left.

Nines was completely alone in the small room, being notified of his Thirium levels dropping rapidly while he could see the blue liquid flow through the tube on the ground to who knows where. He couldn’t believe he was harvested for the very drug he and Gavin had tried to fight since it had popped up on the market. Gavin… Gavin was safe now, wasn’t he? He tried to remember what had happened exactly as Gavin had disappeared, but nothing came up. Whatever the steel rod had damaged, it must have caused some sort of short circuit causing his systems to shut down to protect themselves until he was removed. He must have made it. He must have made it to safety. Nines just couldn’t bear the thought of him being shot while running away or being caught by the gang to be interrogated or worse. No, Gavin had to be safe. Likely furious and wanting to safe him somehow. How would he react to learning he died? They had been together for quite a while now. He would either be angry and in denial about the fact or struck by grief so hard Nines couldn’t possibly imagine what would happen to him. Gavin was a ride-or-die kind of person and they had found mutual unconditional trust in the other. Hell, they had planned to marry eventually, Nines knowing he would have to be the one to propose to the surprisingly shy man. It would have been perfect.

They could have had so much, Nines regretfully realised. Not a great ceremony, but one of few guests. Tina would have been there. Nines would have convinced Gavin to invite Hank and Connor and maybe Sixty with Allen. Gavin in turn would have convinced Nines to allow Elijah and Chloe there. And besides that there would have been a full life ahead of them. Maybe they would have gone on vacation. Left Detroit for the first time or maybe even America. There would have been Christmases that weren’t coined by revolutions and New Years that wouldn’t traumatise half the population when androids first dared to insert themselves into society. Birthdays and the struggle to find the perfect present. Weekends spent on roadtrips, movie nights with friends, new cases keeping their minds busy. And then the little things. Playing with their cat and laughing at it. Watching a movie only for Gavin to halfway through fall asleep leaned against Nines. Days spent in bed because it was just to comfy. Moments when the sun just fell right through the window on Gavin’s face. Seeing him smile one more time. Hearing his voice whisper sweet nothings. Hearing him call him with another silly nickname. The smell of coffee in the morning. The curses when having overslept. The slow beat of a heart. The way he sighed in content and caressed Nines face when he thought he was already in stasis. The colour of his eyes…

Nines’ systems were shutting down one after the other. His countdown was ticking down. His thoughts were running slow and sluggish. He was long hanging weakly in the arms of the rig. Warning messages popped up, informing him of imminent terminal overheating. Nines ignored it all. He didn’t want to die in fear. He didn’t even want to know he was dying. He tried to remember his short life with Gavin and to imagine how it could have been. It was no surprise to him his mind soon began to fray as his systems switched to critical condition and he saw Gavin before him. Heard his voice: ‘Nines. Stay with me.’ ‘I will’, Nines hummed with a content smile, his tinny voice almost unrecognisable as one. ‘I will fix this, don’t worry’, Gavin’s voice told him and Nines thanked whatever sick twist of fate gave an android the possibility to lose logic in it’s last moments. ‘I know you will’, Nines spoke, not understanding his own words as his voicebox was running on less and less power. ‘I’ve always been safe with you.’ ‘Phck, Nines. Phck, phck, phck!’ ‘I love you, Gavin.’

And then he fell.

  He fell on a surprisingly real floor. ‘Phck, Nines, sorry! Nines? Nines? Phck can you hear me? Say something!’ Nine could barely understand the words uttered as his sensors glitched and switched on and off repeatedly. ‘Okay, your LED is still on, please let that mean you’re still alive! Alright, I will get you out of here, just hold on! We will fix you, we will fix you!’

He… wasn’t dead yet? Nines tried to access his internal sensors and saw that he had been disconnected at a Thirium Level of twelve percent. He was still about to die, but the countdown was trickling down a lot slower now that the blue blood wasn’t forcibly extracted. Unable to move he was once again dragged over the floor for what felt like an eternity when Nines watched every millisecond pass by. If this wasn’t an impressive illusion of a dying operating system, then that had to mean Gavin was really here. And that he was about to save him. That there was indeed a future to look forward to.

The sun outside caused his optics to white out, so it was a little sudden as a bottle opening was pressed to his lips. Havin a hunch, Nines allowed the liquid to be poured down his throat. It took a while until his levels rose and several bottles were emptied, but as they sat at stable 60%, Nines could run a quick diagnose and regained access to all systems that remained intact. It weren’t many, but he could jerkily move, he could talk through heavy static, he could hear, see and feel. And he used all of these abilities to jump up, hug Gavin and kiss him clumsily on the lips. ‘Gavin!’, he gave vent to his relief and promptly kissed him again as if he could loose all this again the next second. ‘Hey, buddy, tone that down a bit’, Gavin laughed embarrassedly. ‘Everyone is watching.’

Nines couldn’t care less. ‘Gavin, I want to marry you’, he burst out instead and as Gavin looked at him in surprise and wanted to respond, Nines just interrupted: ‘Elijah can come if Connor is invited too.’ ‘Alright, not what I wanted to say’, Gavin chuckled, trying to free himself of Nines embrace that was more of a vice by now. ‘We should take time off. Drive somewhere. I want to hold you.’ Gavin pushed him away fully now, holding onto his arms. ‘Nines, what’s wrong?’, he asked with worry. ‘I will get you to a repair shop, don’t worry.’

Nines closed his eyes and vented his internal systems that had heated up yet again. ‘I almost lost this’, he whispered. ‘All of this. You. Our future. I don’t want to wait anymore should this happen ever again.’ Gavin looked at him and sighed. ‘Nines, this won’t happen again. I promise. We are partners, remember? We look out for each other. I know, I was quite… I was almost too late this time. But I will always be there.’ Nines looked to the ground, unsure if his legs would support him much longer. ‘Hey’, Gavin said softly, lifting his head up. ‘You know what? Vacation doesn’t sound too bad. I’ll see what I can do, okay? But let’s get you fixed up first, okay?’

The android rested his head against Gavin’s, noses touching. ‘Okay’, he nodded and let himself be guided towards a car by his human.

[rmwb-fanfics]

Regretfully Uncaring Chapter 47: Beyond the End

RAAAAAAAHHHHH I FUCKING WROTE SOMETHING IT'S BEEN LIKE FIVE MONTHS LET'S FUCKING GO.

And it's like really good YEEAAAAHHHH.

Too bad I work tomorrow because I'm pretty sure I could run off the creative high for like a week dawg holy shit I feel so good.

Harry and Ginny are back in the story and I got so much character work done oh my god I am so sorry it took so long but like meeoOOOWWWW AHAHHAH

PREVIEW:

Ron wanted to join. Ron wanted to fight. He wished to run in with his wand raised above his head and curse everyone who had harmed those he'd known and loved.

But he couldn't. Because at the very front of his mind was the drawing of a clock on an unfurled bit of parchment in an impossible room. Of grey eyes, swimming in tears, asking him who had hurt her so.

Of a dead girl laying in a field of flowers. Forgotten by all within the heavy death toll.

At the front of his mind was his best friend. The boy with more weight on his shoulders than any of them could possibly understand.

At the front of his mind was the girl. The key. His partner in childhood crime. His sister.

At the front of his mind was a plan. Carefully spreading its roots throughout his consciousness.

A plan to break out of The Shattered Sky, and into the unknown.

But he needed those grey eyes.

Read it now! AO3 | FFN

shit preview but the rest is too spoilery for comfort

[bloody-bee-tea]

This feels a lot like home

Soooo, can we all just pretend you didn’t hear me say that I would only delve into this OT3 once I finished all the prompts in my inbox? Because they are very much not finished and I don’t like to make a fool out of myself. So let’s just concentrate on the good things, mainly: New OT3! More Words! Excitement!

(Also I feel like I should dedicate this to @nikudons because their art gives me life)

Edit: This now has a prequel in Come with us

When he comes down from his orgasm, Jiang Cheng falls into the bed, still panting for breath.

This might have actually been the best sex of his life, and of course it would come at the hands of Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen. Of fucking course. Because that’s just what his life is now, apparently.

Jiang Cheng has to admit that he might have been a tiny bit infatuated with them for longer than he dares to admit, and to even get this out of it is already more than he ever expected. More than he ever dared to hope for.

He was ready for some hateful words and a break of their friendship, if he’s being honest.

Not them putting the moves on him at Mo Xuanyu’s party.

Nie Mingjue reaches out for him, and pulls him into the middle again, and even though it’s kind of icky with all of them being sweaty and sticky, it’s also a very comfortable position to be in.

Jiang Cheng tries to not dwell on that for too long, because he knows what a one-night stand is, thank you very much, and so he’s just waiting for them to get up and leave.

“You’re so beautiful, A-Cheng,” Nie Mingjue mutters as he pulls Jiang Cheng closer with an arm around his hips and Jiang Cheng is too weak to push away from him.

Jiang Cheng wants to protest, because he’s not, but then Lan Xichen tilts his head back with a finger to his chin and silences him with a toe-curling kiss.

“Don’t even argue the point, you can’t win against Mingjue,” he softly tells him as he nips at Jiang Cheng’s lower lip. “Especially not when he’s right.”

Jiang Cheng glares at him, but Lan Xichen only chuckles softly and then Nie Mingjue tugs on his shoulder again.

Jiang Cheng settles down like Nie Mingjue clearly wants him to, with his head on his shoulder and basically draped over Nie Mingjue. Before his back has time to go cold, Lan Xichen presses close, molds himself against Jiang Cheng’s back and presses a kiss to his shoulder.

Jiang Cheng is still sore and kind of oversensitive but it’s clear that they are staying for a round two and so he presses his ass back, despite the fact that it’s almost unpleasant.

But Lan Xichen puts a hand on his hip to still his movements and Nie Mingjue brushes his sweaty hair out of his face.

“Sleep, A-Cheng,” he mumbles.

Ah, so they want a second round later. Jiang Cheng can only hope that they wake him up for that, because he’s drifting off already.

It doesn’t help that Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue start to softly talk over him. Jiang Cheng is too tired to listen to the words, but the comfort of the voices washing over him is enough to immediately lull him to sleep.

~*~*~

When he wakes up it’s already light out. He frowns, because he thought Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue would stay for a round two and not steal away in the night like thieves, but really, what did he expect.

He turns around with a sigh only to freeze when Lan Xichen smiles at him.

“Good morning, Wanyin,” Lan Xichen says and reaches out to push a few stray hairs behind Jiang Cheng’s ear and then he leans in as if to kiss him.

Jiang Cheng jerks back, because he must have morning breath, and surely this will not be appreciated, but Lan Xichen pulls him close, clearly uncaring of that.

It starts out as a soft brush of lips, but soon enough Lan Xichen deepens the kiss and Jiang Cheng is helpless against it.

Jiang Cheng is almost ashamed to admit that the kiss leaves him half-hard already.

“Nie Mingjue?” he mumbles once he found his voice again and Lan Xichen wriggles close, wraps himself around Jiang Cheng’s arm and puts his head in the crook of Jiang Cheng’s neck.

“Making breakfast,” Lan Xichen tells him and now that Jiang Cheng is listening for it, he can hear someone work in his kitchen.

He can’t believe they stayed. He can’t believe they want to have breakfast with him.

“Xichen?” he softly says and is met with a sleepy “Mhh?”

“What—what is this?” he asks after a bit of hesitation, because he’s not sure he’s ready to hear that this still doesn’t mean anything more than some no strings attached sex.

“Wait for Mingjue,” Lan Xichen mutters back and then snuggles in even closer.

He’s almost painfully clinging to Jiang Cheng’s arm and he can already feel his fingers go numb from it, but he doesn’t move and he doesn’t tell Lan Xichen to let go of him.

It’s what he always wanted. He won’t be the one to put an end to this. He will take everything he can get.

It doesn’t take Nie Mingjue long to show up with a tablet filled with food, coffee and tea. His face goes all soft when he sees Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen curled up like this and a knot of worry eases in Jiang Cheng’s chest.

It’s one thing to have a threesome. It’s another to see his partner snuggle with another man after the fact.

But Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem angry; quite the opposite actually and Jiang Cheng flushes when Nie Mingjue smiles at him.

The tablet is put down next to the bed and Nie Mingjue slides under the covers to snuggle up to Jiang Cheng’s other side.

“Morning, sleepy head,” he says and presses a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s hair.

“Morning,” Jiang Cheng gives back and then huffs out a laugh when Lan Xichen only hums.

“Do you still feel your arm?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and Jiang Cheng regretfully shakes his head. “Don’t let him snuggle you to death,” Nie Mingjue warns him and then narrows his eyes. “I can show you a trick on how you get to move him,” he then offers and raises his arm as if he wants to punch Lan Xichen on the shoulder, but Jiang Cheng is quick to stop his hand.

“Don’t,” he lowly says. “I do enjoy this,” he then adds, even though it makes his face go hot again.

“Mingjue,” Lan Xichen suddenly says and Jiang Cheng honestly thought he fell back asleep. “What is this?” he asks and Jiang Cheng goes cold with nerves at that.

“What?” Nie Mingjue says with confusion and Lan Xichen blinks an eye up at him, but not without pressing a kiss to the underside of Jiang Cheng’s jaw.

“Wanyin wants to know what this is,” he clarifies and understanding lights up Nie Mingjue’s face.

“Ah,” he says, and wriggles his arm under Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen, so that he can pull them both close. “You see, A-Cheng, we have tried the soft approach,” he says, and that makes no sense at all, so Jiang Cheng scowls at him.

Nie Mingjue takes the opportunity to lean forward and kiss the scowl right off his face and he only goes on when Jiang Cheng goes pliant against him again.

“We tried flirting, and we tried leaving hints, but you weren’t very receptive of those,” he explains, “so we decided to take this route.”

“I see,” Jiang Cheng lowly says, a sinking feeling in his stomach, because of course.

Of course they just want sex.

“Not what you think,” Lan Xichen chimes in and he pushes himself up so he can look Jiang Cheng in the eyes for his next words. “We want you, in a relationship with us,” he says, words clearly pronounced so that there can be no misunderstanding. “And this was the easiest way to get an in with you.”

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng breathes out, because now that he knows it, he can see how they were trying to flirt with him.

“And you really shouldn’t expect us to leave again,” Nie Mingjue adds and slides them all further down in the bed, so he can pull the blanket up over all of them again.

Jiang Cheng feels a little bit like his brain got broken, but it doesn’t matter much when both Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen press a kiss to either side of his face.

When they remember breakfast, it’s long gone cold.

~*~*~

True to their word, Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue don’t really leave after that night. Jiang Cheng’s phone is blowing up with notifications, because as soon as they left that day they added him to a group chat and while a small part of Jiang Cheng still expects them to only want sex from him, the topics in the chat stay surprisingly safe for work.

They chat about their days and what annoyed them and Jiang Cheng is delighted to find out that Nie Mingjue loves to share pictures of all the animals he saw that day.

It’s—sweet in a way Jiang Cheng didn’t really expect but couldn’t be happier about.

Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue meet up with him on several days a week, sometimes all three of them, and sometimes it’s just two, but it never seems to matter to either of them, as long as they get to see him.

Jiang Cheng is convinced he sees them more than his siblings at this point, not that he’s complaining.

They become somewhat of a fixture in his apartment too, so much so in fact that Jiang Cheng keeps wondering if they just don’t like their own home, but he’s not going to bring it up. He still sometimes feels like he’s trading on thin ice here, though those moments get fewer and far in between. Still, no reason to provoke something.

“And then Su She had the audacity to ask for a meeting with me,” Jiang Cheng hears Lan Xichen say as he tunes back in, and he realizes that he might have spaced out for longer than normal.

He still smiles at Lan Xichen and hopes that it wasn’t too noticeable, but of course Lan Xichen points an accusing spoon at him.

Jiang Cheng blinks when the full picture suddenly hits him; Lan Xichen, in his kitchen wearing an apron he brought over from his own apartment and preparing food for the three of them, because Nie Mingjue is due to come home to them any time now.

“You didn’t even listen,” Lan Xichen accuses him and he seems honestly affronted at that. “Here I am, relaying my troubles to you, and you don’t even listen!”

“Xichen, what are we doing?” Jiang Cheng asks and Lan Xichen blinks at him before he looks down at his apron and then back to the sizzling sauce on the stove.

“I’m making dinner? I’m not sure what you’re doing, to be honest,” Lan Xichen teasingly says but Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“No, I mean—,” he gets interrupted when the door opens and Nie Mingjue comes home.

They hear him put away his shoes and bag and then he comes into the kitchen, almost silent on his socks.

“Hello, my loves,” he says and he greets first Jiang Cheng with a soft kiss, before he tugs Lan Xichen close to give him one as well.

It hits Jiang Cheng then that they both have keys to his apartment, that they both stay here more often than not, that they have enough things here to spend several days in a row in his apartment.

“Oh,” he breathes out and effectively gets Lan Xichen’s and Nie Mingjue’s attention with that.

“What ‘oh’?” Nie Mingjue asks, but Lan Xichen narrows his eyes at him.

“Jiang Cheng, please tell me you did not only realize now that all three of us are in a committed relationship,” he icily says and Jiang Cheng presses his lips together.

“A-Cheng!” Nie Mingjue accusingly says and Jiang Cheng helplessly shrugs.

“Excuse me for being a bit confused about this,” he almost shouts at them and both Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen stare at him.

“What part has you confused?” Lan Xichen then carefully asks and Jiang Cheng gets up to pace the length of the kitchen.

“Maybe the part where this started as a one-night stand? Or maybe the part where you have a very loving relationship and shouldn’t even be looking at someone like me? But definitely the part where I don’t just get the things I want?”

“Oh my heart,” Lan Xichen softly sighs and Nie Mingjue is quick to pull Jiang Cheng close so they can both embrace him.

“We told you we’ve been trying this for longer,” Nie Mingjue says. “It was never juts a one-night stand for us, A-Cheng. We’re in love with you and we always knew we wanted you in our relationship.”

Jiang Cheng is so overwhelmed by his feelings that he has to hide his face in Lan Xichen’s chest. He realizes his mistake when that leaves his neck open to be kissed by Nie Mingjue, sending shudders down his back.

“Why won’t you believe us?” Lan Xichen mutters and winds his arms around Jiang Cheng’s middle, pulling him close and nosing at his temple. “Why can’t you believe that we simply love you?”

There are a lot of things Jiang Cheng could say to that, first and foremost how no one cared to love him like this before, but he stays quiet and presses closer to Lan Xichen.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into his chest and Nie Mingjue drops another kiss to his neck.

“Don’t be, A-Cheng. Just believe us when we tell you, okay?”

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng breathes out.

“I love you,” Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue say in unison and Jiang Cheng laughs wetly at that.

“I love you two,” he gives back, because he does, so much, and then frowns when something smells like it’s burning. “Xichen, your sauce,” he says in a rush and Lan Xichen swears as he untangles himself from Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng to see if there is anything left he can save.

Nie Mingjue chuckles but he also pulls Jiang Chang back to his chest and doesn’t let him leave.

“Ask us if you’re unsure or if you have doubts, please,” he lowly tells him and Jiang Cheng rests his hands on Nie Mingjue’s arm around his middle.

“I will,” he promises, because maybe there is no reason at all for him to doubt this like he did.

“Good,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and then Jiang Cheng settles more of his weight against him so they can watch Lan Xichen frantically trying to save their dinner.

It feels a lot like home.

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 38: Aunt Marge's Big Mistake

Remus had never really considered the smell of dog repugnant before, but the puddle he landed in and the odor that met his nose was really trying to change that. "Are you shitting me!" He howled in disgust as he pulled himself free.

Sirius whistled from atop a rickety pile of empty dog crates. "You must have really pissed off someone in another life."

"I hope you fall on your head from there," he snapped as he waved his wand to remove the mess, though that still didn't remove the lingering scent from his own nose.

The two took eyes off each other and instead spent a moment to glance around and realize they were the only two out here. Sirius, in his usual feats of ease and grace, landed on his feet beside Remus and the two cautiously circled the area to find themselves in some sort of barn, which mostly seemed to be used for storage. Stacks of dog-food, of a high premium quality, were in carefully managed containers as well as an assortment of collars, and even a few medical supplies.

"I'm feeling a little creeped out now," Sirius muttered, rubbing his neck and eyeing the cages he'd been upon.

Neither got the chance to make much more sense of it when the barn doors swung open wide, and Frank's surprised face peered in. "Oi, I found um!"

"Where are we?" Remus asked as they joined him at the door to find an even wider expanse beyond, quite the gorgeous acreage for some sight beyond, and a bulldog sitting at Frank's feet wagging it's tail curiously up at the pair.

"You're guess is as good as ours," James assured as he came up beside Frank. "Everyone else is inside that house," he gestured beyond the two where they couldn't yet see from the inside, "but I'm suspecting we're dealing with an animal lover. There's bulldogs all over the place round here."

The one watching at their feet was on the younger side, completely white, and rather healthy in weight Sirius decided as he knelt down and scooped up the pup.

"Let's go see if they've found the book yet, spread some light on this nonsense," Frank sighed.

Circling around the side of the barn found a very nice bungalow, clearly very well kept up with bright shutters opened wide. Even from their view as they approached what must be the backdoor they could already see inside the kitchen, where bright yellow wallpaper was abound and even more pictures of bulldogs hung from surfaces. Inside saw Peter at the table, face in hands and looking exhausted, with two more bulldogs sniffing curiously around his feet and Regulus at the table beside him. The two stopped talking when they entered, but to the others surprise there hadn't been much noise of hostility in either tones.

"Come on Wormy," Sirius said at once with chipper, going forward and clasping him on the shoulder while forcefully putting the puppy near his face. "Won't get back to our world tell we find the book, sitting around worrying ain't going to fix that."

"Alice already found the book," Regulus shrugged without concern.

"Well then let's get to it," Frank agreed going past them into the living room. Alice was sitting on the floor next to a snoring pooch as tan as the carpet rather than the plastic bound furniture, while four more dogs of the same breed were all lazing about comfortably, one nursing a litter of three. Lily was crouched down beside the proud mama, stroking a little fawn one.

"Don't be getting ideas now," he cautioned as he offered to take the book from Alice before sitting down by a brindle colored one with a rather rotund stomach and very round teets, likely promising another litter soon. "We don't have time to be hunting down formulas for puppies."

"I know," she sighed as she relaxed against the wall and glanced out the front window where a picturesque well stood on a hill. "It's just nice to land somewhere so pleasant for once. This isn't any of our houses, seems to just be some nice person who breeds dogs. I don't know what Harry has to do with this place, but it seems to be something good for once."

"Chapter title doesn't indicate as much," Frank said in surprise as he cracked the book open. The opening was as horrendous as usual, none of them ever actually enjoyed hearing of the Dursleys many ways they managed to make Harry feel as unwelcome as possible in that house.

Things picked up with interest though, when the Muggle news casually said a certain name.

The other five walked slowly into the room, eyeing Frank like they thought he was playing his first prank. Even Pettigrew was looking more lively again, still clutching the little white pup to his chest a little too tight as he went from looking at the book to not only his best friend, but the brother that shared the Black name.

"Did we miss something?" Potter demanded, wand clutched in one hand and the other balled into a fist. Frank found that a tad dramatic. It was the Muggle news after all, and while it had caught him off guard, there was certainly no reason for his him to be getting defensive over it.

"No, not really," he said calmly, already turning back to the book. "I'd think you heard as well as I, someone named Black broke out of a Muggle prison." The group remained cluttered in the doorway while Frank finished, though there really wasn't much more to be said from the news.

Lupin made an awkward sort of noise that may have possibly been an attempt at a laugh. He put a casual arm around his friend and eyed the brother with that same pained sort of look that was desperately striving for carefree. "Well, what do you suppose you two get up to in the future?"

"Stop exaggerating Moony," the elder of the two brothers pushed his friend away with a much more natural look of uncare. "Just something being stirred up in the Muggle world, how could anyone break out of Azkaban for it to be related to us?"

"Yeah," Regulus quickly muttered agreement, but his brows were still ruffled with confusion and uncertainty. Frank couldn't blame him. Of the two, he'd put money down the youngest would certainly break the news first in You-Know-Who's service rather than the toerag and self proclaimed savior to James Potter.

Harry very obviously had no reason to dwell on this, so it made sense he was distracted by the next interruption of someone named Marge coming about. His reaction to the news was distracting enough to get to them as well.

"What's that horrid woman done then?" Lily snapped in frustration. Already more than sick of the way these horrid people treated her son, she had half a mind to slap Petunia across the face when she saw her again, even if she still doubted herself to go through with it. This perverse future version of a life without her in it already featured a bitter best friend who treated her son so horrid and she was still bound and determined to find a way to an answer for that, her sister was a slightly lesser concern but one she'd have to deal with eventually.

At least this particular problem wasn't on her plate, this Marge was Vernon's sister, and the location they happened to be at suddenly made more sense. Then her hand froze on the little pups warm fur as the their surroundings went from cheerful to claustrophobic in seconds as the laundry list of misdeeds she'd done to Harry were listed. The bright wallpaper was sickening, the little box of dog treats placed sporadically had her clenching her jaw in disgust, and the walking stick left propped against the back door was something everyone was eyeing to be broken in half.

This was no innocent woman breeding dogs for a living, this was a horrible woman, just like every other person in Harry's life who treated that kid like scum, for what?! Lily felt fooled as she sat there shaking with rage, taken in by the beautiful countryside and calm animals around her not to realize there was always something repugnant under the surface.

Of course things only got worse when the woman arrived, Lily couldn't help but get defensive. Of Potter of all things! And not just Harry! This Marge woman shamelessly took to taking criticizing to an inhuman level in regards to Harry and even going so far as to putting this blame on his parentage. As many times as she'd wanted to curse Potter's face off, at least she knew why he deserved it! This woman didn't know anything about them, and what she was saying to a child was reprehensible!

Between this, Petunia not having the decency to say a single word in defense like some part of her still hoped for, and the revelation the woman actually had puppies drowned, Harry magically blowing her up was a blessing.

Lily didn't burst out with cheers like the Marauders, or even resort to the other three muttering things they'd like to do to this woman instead of something so mild, Lily just let herself relax. She released a stream of breath, her shoulders slumped, and she scooped the little ball of folded skin that was the wrinkly puppy just finished nursing and tucked the babe into her neck. It was by far the most mild victory Harry had ever dished out on his own, but really, it was somehow the most satisfying.

Defeating Voldemort, twice, was still such a fantastical thing for something of their future, let alone a kid of hers to be doing it, she still just hadn't quite grasped that concept. This however was something she and her son could readily agree on, no one would be saying such atrocious things and getting away with it.

The news that Harry was leaving that house was a welcomed one, she couldn't stop herself from laughing in relief. Of all the times she'd escaped a very similar house and words from her sister, the idea of escape was one she knew intimately. As Frank warned the closing sentence was upon them, she regretfully set the little pup back down next to its mother and watched Pettigrew finally do the same.

[jedi-order-apologist]

I finished reading Yoda: Dark Rendezvous, and I have to say, I really, really loved it! Everyone who recommended it to me was 100% right - this book is great, and especially great in its representation of the Jedi. I think I like it even more than Shatterpoint, and I really liked Shatterpoint.

There are some weak points - it was a little slow to pull me in, and there’s a couple of Weird Legends Things™ that, with me not being particularly immersed in that continuity, don’t quite fit in with my conception of Star Wars (Dooku apparently having had a Master that was not Yoda; the infamous 13-year-old age limit (though I was at least familiar with that one), the Jedi being so far in the public eye that there exists a famous Yoda impersonator, etc), and I was a little iffy on how it handled the “Jedi shouldn’t be in the war” angle (I’m fine with there being Jedi who think that the Jedi shouldn’t be in the war. I’m less fine with an author deciding that other Jedi can’t find the words to defend their involvement, because that’s a cheap way of framing the argument), and a small moment of the “everyone falls in love” stuff I dislike.

But those were very small aspects of the book, all things considered, and pretty much everything else about this book is really, really good, and very Star Warsy - a very healthy mix of the wacky as well as the philosophical sides of the franchise, which suited my tastes really well. This book is fun - Yoda is the grumpy grandpa that he deserves to be, and spends a good portion of the book disguised as an astromech that gets into all sorts of trouble. Obi-Wan and Anakin have peak sibling energy in the handful of scenes that they show up in - Anakin at one point insisting that a woman would have to be desperate to want Obi-Wan, and only a younger sibling could possibly say something like that with a straight face to a man as attractive as Obi-Wan, as well as Obi-Wan lying to Mace Windu’s face to cover for Anakin and then immediately grumbling about it to Anakin that he doesn’t know why he does these things for him is such an older sibling thing to do.

Where this book really shines, though, is the serious stuff - the philosophy and the dark side and especially grief. What absolutely sold me on this story, and what made me sit up and go “this is going to be one of my favorite Star Wars books”, was the part where Yoda speaks to the padawans and helps them address and work through their grief. It was phenomenal, and beautiful, and absolutely everything I want out of depicting the Jedi - especially in the context that only a chapter earlier, Ventress had been hurling those standard accusations of “the Jedi don’t let you feel”, and this book wonderfully, completely demolishes that nonsense. This section is absolutely amazing:

Yoda set his bowl of gumbo regretfully aside. “Hear it working, do you?”

“Hear what?” Whie snapped.

“The dark side. Always it speaks to us, from our pain. Our grief. It connects our pain to all pain, our hurt to all hurt.”

“Maybe it has a lot to say.” Whie stared at the starscape hovering over the projector table. “It’s so easy for you. What do you care? You are unattached, aren’t you? You’ll probably never die. What was Maks Leem to you? Another pupil. After all these centuries, who could blame you if you could hardly keep track of them? Well, she was more than that to me.” He looked up challengingly. Tear tracks were shining on his face, but his eyes were still hard and angry. “She was the closest thing I had to a mother, since you took me away from my real mother. She chose me to be her Padawan and I let her down, I let her die, and I’m not going to sit here and stuff myself and get over it!” He finished with a yell, sweeping the plate of crêpes off the projection table, so the platter went sailing toward the floor.

Yoda’s eyes, heavy-lidded and half closed like a drowsing dragon’s, gleamed, and one finger twitched. Food, platter, drinks, and all hung suspended in the air. The platter settled; the crêpes returned to it; Whie’s overturned cup righted itself, and rich purple liquid trickled back into it. All settled back onto the table.

Another twitch of Yoda’s fingers, the merest flicker, and Whie’s head jerked around as if on a string, until he found himself looking into the old Jedi’s eyes. They were green, green as swamp water. He had never quite realized before how terrifying those eyes could be. One could drown in them. One could be pulled under.

“Teach me about pain, think you can?” Yoda said softly. “Think the old Master cannot care, mmm? Forgotten who I am, have you? Old am I, yes. Mm. Loved more than you, have I, Padawan. Lost more. Hated more. Killed more.” The green eyes narrowed to gleaming slits under heavy lids. Dragon eyes, old and terrible. “Think wisdom comes at no cost? The dark side, yes - it is easier for them. The pain grows too great, and they eat the darkness to flee from it. Not Yoda. Yoda loves and suffers for it, loves and suffers.”

One could have heard a feather hit the floor.

“The price of Yoda’s wisdom, high it is, very high, and the cost goes on forever. But teach me about pain, will you?”

“I...” Whie’s mouth worked. “I am sorry, Master. I was angry. But...what if they’re right?” he cried out in anguish. “What if the galaxy is dark. What if it’s like Ventress says: we are born, we suffer, we die, and that is all. What if there is no plan, what if there is no ‘goodness’? What if we suffer blindly, trying to find a reason for the suffering, but we’re just fooling ourselves, looking for hope that isn’t there? What if there is nothing but stars and the black space between them and the galaxy does not care if we live or die?”

Yoda said, “It’s true.”

The Padawans looked at him in shock.

The Master’s short legs swung forth and back, forth and back. “Perhaps,” he added. He sighed. “Many days, feel certain of a greater hope, I do. Some days, not so.” He shrugged. “What difference does it make?”

“Ventress was right?” Whie said, shocked out of his anger.

“No! Wrong she is! As wrong as she can be!” Yoda snorted. “Grief in the galaxy, is there? Oh, yes. Oceans of it. Worlds. And darkness?” Yoda pointed to the starscape on the projection table. “There you see: darkness, darkness everywhere, and a few stars. A few points of light. If no plan there is, no fate, no destiny, no providence, no Force: then what is left?” He looked at each of them in turn. “Nothing but our choices, hmm?”

“Asajj eats the darkness, and the darkness eats her back. Do that if you wish, Whie. Do that if you wish.” The old Jedi looked deep into the starscape, suns and planets and nebulae dancing, tiny points of light blazing in the darkness. “To be Jedi is to face the truth, and choose. Give off light, or darkness, Padawan.” His matted eyebrows rose high over his swamp-colored eyes, and he poked Whie with the end of his stick. Poke, poke. “Be a candle, or the night, Padawan: but choose!”

Whie cried for what seemed like a long time. Scout ate. Fidelis served. Master Yoda told stories of Maks Leem and Jai Maruk: tales of their most exciting adventures, of course, but also comical anecdotes from the days when they were only children in the Temple. They drank together, many toasts.

Scout cried. Whie ate. Fidelis served.

Yoda told stories, and ate, and cried, and laughed: and the Padawans saw that life itself was a lightsaber in his hands; even in the face of treachery and death and hopes gone cold, he burned like a candle in the darkness. Like a star shining in the black eternity of space.

I want to show this passage to every hot-take Yoda-critical fan who’s ever leveled that kind of nonsense at him. I want every one of them to read this and still try to tell me that Yoda is detached and uncaring of the galaxy around him. I want every fan who thinks the Jedi are expected to be unfeeling to read this and understand what the Jedi actually say and do and why giving into these feelings is the issue, not the feelings themselves.

The confrontation with Dooku is also amazing. Yoda challenges him to explain why the dark side is so great, and Dooku only gets more and more frustrated as Yoda is unswayed by any of what he tempts him with. I especially love this bit where Yoda lays out exactly why what the dark side promises is false:

“Want something else. Want power.”

“Power have I.”

“Want wealth.”

“Wealth I need not.”

“Want to be safe,” Dooku said in frustration. “Want to be free from fear!”

“I will never be safe,” Yoda said. He turned away from Dooku, a shapeless bundle under a battered, acid-eaten cloak. “The universe is large and cold and very dark: that is the truth. What I love, taken from me will be, late or soon: and no power is there, dark or light, that can save me.”

That then leads into a bit where Dooku has a vision of what a dark!Yoda would look like, and realizes how utterly terrifying that would be.

Dooku also has abandonment issues on full display - lashing out at the lady who had given her son up to the Jedi, getting furious at her on the son’s behalf (but so clearly, his own, speaking of his own resentment towards his parents), and throwing an absolute hissy fit because he’s convinced Yoda likes Anakin more than him. I’m not kidding, he’s so offended by Anakin’s entire existence that just his mere presence in his house is enough for Dooku to stop feeling conflicted about the whole thing and jump right back into the dark side.

And there’s just so many good little moments throughout it all on top of all that. Whie’s dreams - and oh, I knew exactly what his dream of his own death was when he described it to Scout and it hurt at the end when he hugged Anakin while saying “I’m so glad you’re not coming to kill me!”. And Ventress, calling Dooku out on the fact that it’s so obvious that Sidious will end up replacing him (also for a more humorous bit - the fact that she apparently has some petty grudge against Anakin and Obi-Wan for stealing her ships so she goes out of her way to steal their ship at the end), and the droids, and Scout’s cleverness in winning the tournament despite her disadvantages, Jai Maruk’s last stand and refusal to fall when he was at the edge, and...so much, really.

And above all else, the book really latches onto the idea of Jedi as family, and you all know how much I really, really love the idea of the Jedi as a big found family. The idea that they consider each other to be family is driven home again and again, in their words and in their actions, and I absolutely adore this book for that emphasis.

[putas-in-suffering]

45 with Angel

You giggle at the way Angel attacks your neck with kisses from behind you. The alcohol you’d both consumed making you both handsy. The water splashes around you as he leans into you, causing you to press against the side of the pool. 

Angel had been with the club at the casino when he called you to join him. He said a couple of the guys were going to stay behind for a few days. To let loose, as he’d explained to you on the phone. You’d agreed immediately, packing a bag and hitting the road. It was your first night there, the small group of you that’d stayed gathering at the pool for a late night swim. 

The pool was abandoned, aside from the scattered MC members and random girls they’d invited. It’d been a good time so far, the alcohol making everyone less inhibited. You and Angel were the only ones still in the pool, his hands skimming your body beneath the surface of the water. Your eyes scanned the surrounding area, noticing just how secluded you and Angel were on the other side of the pool.

“Angel,” You halfheartedly warn, already feeling the effects of his touch.

“I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice.” He whispers into your ear, eliciting a shiver. 

Your eyes dart around again, suspecting someone heard him. No one even bothered to look in your direction. 

“Is that so?” 

“Mmhm.” He runs his lips along your neck, tasting you. His teeth nip, but his tongue soothes the area immediately after. You lean your head back against his chest as his hands set out to prove his point.

“Jesus,” You breathe, gripping the side of the pool. You bite your lip to silence your moans of pleasure as he shifts your bikini to the side.

“Are you ready for me?” He asks, the seriousness in his tone letting you know he wasn’t just teasing you.

“Do it. Its okay.” You assure him, uncaring if your body hadn’t had time to catch up to your mind. You wanted this, badly. 

A finger probes you anyway, feeling for your excitement. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you, querida.” Angel murmurs into your shoulder, a chaste kiss immediately following. 

“You won’t. Please...” You push back against the bulge you knew would be there, more than ready to have it buried deep inside of you.

You feel him move behind you, maneuvering you so that he can slip inside. You push your ass out, feeling the head of his cock make contact with your entrance. You moan lowly at the feel of him, the water creating a buoyancy that allows you to be on your tiptoes. 

“Holy fuck...” He breathes into your hair, hands gripped on your hips as he finally pushes all the way in. The water begins to splash around you as he moves, rocking you against the wall of the pool. 

The sound of laughter and animated talking lets you know that everyone is still engrossed in their own little world while you and Angel create your own.

“Do you know how fucking hot it is that you’re letting me do this?” Angel pushes deep to emphasize his words, the shift in the angle making you bow your head and chew at your bottom lip. 

“Angel, fuck...” You can’t elaborate anymore, words lost on your desire-riddled mind.

He keeps moving, a hand strategically placed on your breast so that no one else could see and the other landing on your clit.

“Right there.” You moan, feeling his cock swell inside you. You try to rock back without creating too much friction in the water. You need him to fuck you, but the situation calls for discretion.

“You gonna cum? With all these people around?” Angel asks, giving you no choice but to surrender to his demands. 

You throw your head back and moan, feeling Angel maneuver you so that you’re hidden from the others by his body. You barely comprehend the effort to protect your modesty as you ride his cock, feeling your walls flutter around him as he holds still inside you. 

“Shit, baby girl...” He curses as you force him to keep his composure and not pound you into the wall. 

You float back down from space, wrapped up in Angel’s arms with his cock still embedded deep inside. You can still feel how hard he is, so you clench your inner muscles around him and rotate your hips. His hands squeeze your hips, signaling your efforts were well received.

“Cum in me, baby.” You softly demand. 

He does so almost instantly. His face burrows in your neck as he bites down, his limbs tensing as he fills you to capacity. You hum in approval, more turned on by the idea of having his cum inside you than you’re willing to admit. 

“Shit,” He chuckles breathlessly once he’s finished, bodies molding together in a post-coitus embrace. He places a kiss at your temple as he regretfully removes himself from you. You both hiss at the cool water hitting your skin. You adjust your bottoms while he tucks himself back into his swim trunks. 

“That was unexpected.” You turn to face him, arms encircling his neck. 

His eyes predictably go to your breasts, even though he’d just had you. 

“Best fucking thing that’s happened to me in awhile.” He says so with a goofy grin that let’s you know he's being genuine. The notion sets your insides on fire.

He kisses you tenderly, his affection making you weak in the knees. You match his enthusiasm, caressing his tongue and coaxing it into your mouth.

“Hey, get a room!” 

The shout makes you both pull away. Angel shoots Gilly the middle finger while you wipe your lips, hiding behind his bicep. Laughter sounds from the group as Angel turns back to you. He notices the way you shiver, but it isn’t from the cold.

“Let’s go.” 

You nod, but stop him when he leads you to the pool stairs. 

“You need to get me a towel first.” You whisper, hoping he’ll catch your meaning. He doesn’t.

“You okay?” His gaze studies your body, or what he can see above the water, a puzzled look on his face. 

You smile and nod, pointing to the lower half of your body concealed by the water. “I’m fine, but I don’t think I can get out and not have you dripping out of me.” 

You enjoy the way his expression changes once he comprehends your words. He smirks, then laughs, then eyes you with a predator’s glare. 

“We’re going to the room. Now.” He states gruffly, arms already outstretched with a towel for you to step in to. 

“Whatever you say, Angel.” 

[beca-mitchell]

we are the wild youth (4/5)

chapter 4:  catch us in the mirror (it looks a lot like love)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Summary:  New semester, new/old feelings. Same Beca and Chloe. Supposedly.

Usual warnings apply! Smut w/ a dose of fluff this time. chapter title from “Another Place" by Bastille ft. Alessia Cara.

Word count: 5k

Read below or on AO3.

Figuring it out in the morning doesn’t quite come right away. Though they spend the night together, Beca regretfully has an early breakfast with her father and stepmother—a breakfast promised to them many weeks ago. It is a tradition at this point—an end-of-semester breakfast with her father as she begrudgingly admits that maybe four years at Barden wasn’t so bad.

“I have to get breakfast with my dad,” Beca murmurs, pushing at Chloe’s arm. She gives up on that when Chloe rolls further into her and captures her lips in a messy, early morning kiss. Beca almost caves completely, debating how upset her father would be if she skipped out.

“You should go,” Chloe whispers.

But we should talk, Beca thinks. “I should go,” Beca reiterates. “But—”

“Don’t let me keep you,” Chloe says slyly, leaning back with a grin. Beca groans at the blatant way Chloe tucks her arms behind her head and lets the sheets slip tantalizingly low.

“You’re horrible.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

Beca scowls. “Yes you are, you’re doing too much.” With that, she scrambles to climb back on top of Chloe’s body, letting her hands fly up to cup her breasts possessively.

Her previous mild hangover is already a distant memory.

 - - x - -

 So she’s a little late. Whatever. She’s done with her second last semester of college ever.

Her stepmother shoots her father a knowing look. Beca tries not to think about what that means.

Chloe has already sent her a text.

Chloe i’ll see you tonight

“And tutoring?” Beca’s father is asking her. “That went well this semester?”

Beca shrugs, stifling a smile as she puts away her phone. “I can’t complain.”

What her father doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

 - - x - -

 “You look beautiful,” Chloe murmurs.

Beca blushes furiously under the intensity of Chloe’s gaze and the deep sincerity in her tone.

It wasn’t that Beca had never been on a date before—she had a small share of relationships over her past few years at Barden, but nothing had amounted to anything serious.

She mulls over how surreal her life seems now, especially as Chloe’s hand wraps around her own, soft and warm all at once.

“Where are we going?” Beca murmurs. She uses her free hand to draw the lapels of her jacket together as she shivers.

Chloe pauses immediately and slowly steps in front of Beca so she can gently pull up the zipper on Beca’s jacket. Beca shivers again, this time because of how close Chloe is standing to her; because of how softly Chloe rests her hands against her shoulders when she finishes zipping up her jacket. The act, in all its simplicity is incredibly intimate and so, so rife with gentleness.

It almost feels like Chloe is a completely different person, but the softness in Chloe’s expression is all too familiar. A gaze that Beca had grown accustomed to over the past semester, even amidst brief moments of tension and annoyance.

It is nothing new, simply just a fresh outlook for Beca.

“We’re going to get dinner,” Chloe says simply. “Then to celebrate you finishing your last exam for the semester, I’m going to let you have your way with me.”

Beca swallows.

Right. Nothing new.

 - - x - -

 Beca grunts, keeping up the vigorous pace she’s set. Her fingers, slick and dripping with Chloe’s wetness, slide easily through Chloe’s cunt as Chloe’s cries intensify in volume.

She keeps her eyes trained on Chloe’s face, tracing over the furrow in her brow, her parted lips, and the deep flush on her cheeks—all serving to make Chloe even more attractive than she already is.

Chloe’s hands, clenched and unable to move by way of being restrained, tremble with the force of each precise, deep thrust of Beca’s fingers.

“Good?” Beca rasps, concerned when Chloe makes no noise for a few seconds.

Chloe hums, a thick rattling sound from deep within her chest, before nodding shortly. She stares up at Beca with bright eyes, brighter than usual. Her hips arch up wantonly when Beca’s fingers slow to a stop, buried deep inside Chloe. Beca tries to keep up some degree of focus, but the fucking clenching Chloe is doing is kind of fucking distracting.

“Chlo, words,” Beca urges. They’ve already been in bed for hours. Beca knows they should have stopped a while ago, but the thought of being apart for a couple weeks during Christmas break hda been too daunting.

“Yeah,” Chloe mumbles. “Yeah, just a bit more, baby.”

As always, the newfound nickname sends a thrill through Beca’s body. She shivers even if the heat in her room is cranked and the windows are sealed shut. Outside, cool air all around and the slightest hint of rain.

It is a typical Atlanta December just outside her window, but Beca finds it hard to care that another semester has just up and gone like that. Not when her entire world zeroes into the beautiful girl unraveling in her arms.

 - - x - -

 It is incredible how much better Chloe is at waking up in the morning.

But somehow, she makes waking up horrendously early a more enjoyable experience. Somehow.

Maybe it has something to do with the way she presses a slow lingering kiss to Beca’s shoulder, mapping the edges of her tattoo. Maybe it has something to do with the way she makes no move to leave the comfort of Beca’s bed and instead wraps her arms around Beca.

“I have a question,” Chloe asks. “Do you think I passed?”

It isn’t what Beca expects, but it makes her laugh. “Can we not talk about school right now?”

“What should we talk about?” Chloe wonders aloud. She sighs and nestles her chin just over the curve of Beca’s shoulder. Beca tilts her head back to watch Chloe carefully while her fingers gently trace over place where Chloe’s wrists had previously bore red lines from the scarves tying her wrists to the bed.

“I don’t know,” Beca finally says when Chloe continues to watch her.

“I have another question,” Chloe murmurs, gently easing Beca onto her back. Beca allows Chloe’s to drape her body over hers, like a second blanket because of how warm and comfortable Beca feels then.

“Should I be charging for tutoring services right now?” Beca snarks before she can help herself.

Chloe smiles, beautiful and carefree. “Depends. Will you be my girlfriend?”

It is entirely not what Beca expects at all. Her eyes widen and she takes in Chloe’s sincere expression, bright-eyed and open. It is such a far cry from just months ago, the end of August. Chloe’s dark-eyed gaze hellbent on simply making Beca come against the dresser multiple times. Possession and lust.

This is so much more. Just a matter of months and Beca finds that she has uncovered an entirely new version of Chloe Beale. One that she has grown to care for; one that she might even admit to loving.

It is so, so frightening knowing that there is a very tangible pressure hanging over both their heads. Beca, as Chloe’s tutor and essentially her ticket out of Barden. Chloe...as Beca’s one-way trip out of Barden as well. Out of Atlanta, for good.

“I think we can work something out,” Beca murmurs. “But I think I can’t accept money for that. Ethics.”

“Good, I wasn’t planning on paying you anyway. Not in money at least."

Beca shuts her up with an eager, messy kiss, already looking forward to the rest of the morning; looking forward to the rest of their mornings. 

Chloe drives her to her father’s house later that day with the promise to message Beca while she’s away. Beca hates herself for the immediate thought that follows, that a family vacation to Paris and Nice for Christmas never sounded so horrible.

It is the oddest feeling to Beca. As she watches Chloe drive away, her lips still tingling from the kiss Chloe planted on her just before giggling and hopping in the car, she wonders where this feeling came from.

It is the feeling that she would rather be in Atlanta than anywhere else in the world.

 - - x - -

  Chloe <3 i passed calc :)

That is the message Beca wakes up to followed by a series of kissing emojis.

Beca calls Chloe immediately, cursing whatever Gods decided that Beca had to be across the globe in France of all places travelling with her father and stepmother on a fun family holiday. Emphasis on fun.

Chloe answers on the second ring. “Hey you. How’s Paris?”

“You did it! You passed!” Beca exclaims.

Chloe laughs. “Yes I did.”

“What’d you get?” Beca asks.

Chloe giggles. “I don’t want to tell you, you’ll let it go to your head.”

Beca exhales noisily. “Chloe. Tell me,” she whines, uncaring that it is probably too early in the morning for that kind of nonsense. She can’t help but smile at Chloe’s dramatic exhale.

“Fine,” Chloe sighs.

Pause.

“Chloe!”

“Beca,” Chloe drawls, clearly enjoying herself. Then, finally, “I got an A minus.”

Beca gasps, shooting straight up in bed. “Holy shit, I knew you were faking it.”

Chloe laughs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you just casually got an A minus. Alright.”

Chloe laughs again. She does not comment on Beca’s sarcastic tone. The brief silence that passes between them is comfortable. Beca lies back on her hotel bed, smiling up at the ceiling and wishing she could just be back in Atlanta so they could celebrate together.

Beca takes a stab at expressing her emotions. “I miss you.”

Chloe’s smile is nearly entirely audible through the phone: she sucks in a breath and pauses for a one delicate moment. “I miss you, too.”

 - - x - -

 Just like that, winter break is over.

Beca finds herself stunned at how little time she actually has until graduation. Residual Heat rings in the new year and new semester for her by requesting more samples of her work. That first week back at school ends up being one of the longest weeks of Beca’s life and she spends the majority of the week holed up in her room except when she dashes out for class. It sucks, but she hardly gets to see Chloe except for a very brief study session in which Chloe had diligently completed a preliminary statistics assignment without much guidance from Beca.

It is not until Saturday that Beca realizes that Chloe is lounging on her bed reading a thick novel that barely looks like it is in English.

“What day is it?” Beca asks in wonder. She glances to her side realizing that there is a bowl of yogurt and diced fruit as well as a steaming mug of tea.

Chloe giggles quietly, putting her book down while scooting over to the edge of Beca’s bed. “You’re surfaced, finally. Happy with what you’ve been working on?”

Beca nods. “Want to listen?” She is so grateful for Chloe’s presence. Neither obtrusive or invisible, Chloe had simply waited for Beca to finish.

“Yes,” Chloe says immediately, eyes lighting up. “You still owe me music.”

Beca laughs, amused at her girlfriend’s antics.

“Come here and let’s listen to it,” Chloe declares, patting the space next to her.

“Excuse me,” Beca says haughtily. “This is my room.” She clambers up next to Chloe nonetheless, pulling her laptop up with her. “Save comments ‘til the end.”

“Don’t you want live feedback?”

Beca would respond—she has a response ready—but Chloe’s hand comes up comfortingly to rub Beca’s neck, the gentle curve of the top of her spine, and up again to her hairline.

It is ridiculously nice.

“Stop,” Beca warns.

Of course, Chloe just doesn’t stop. She simply switches to an even slower, even rhythm. Her hand remains soft, yet firm against Beca’s skin.

“Well?” Chloe asks, her voice low and quiet. It makes Beca want to kiss her. “Show me.”

Beca finds that she really does not mind sharing—it is incredibly easy to open up to Chloe after all. It is something she has had the privilege to learn.

 - - x - -

 It isn’t that she has stopped learning things about Chloe. She learns more about the freckles on her body, along her neck. The curve of her breast. She learns exactly what kinds of touches draw out the sharpest breaths or the gentlest moans.

Beca kind of never expected to be that person, but she ends up skipping a class or two just to lie in bed with Chloe, watching the sunshine dance across their skin. Where one begins and the other ends is a mystery that Beca has no intention on solving.

She learns—and she aches to learn—more about each breathless gasp. Each telltale sign.

It feels like they have all the time in the world, or more specifically, that they have all the time in their world between the stacks of assignments and between classes.

It is every college cliche rolled into one whirlwind romance and Beca has long given up trying to assess risks and calculate the trajectory of heartbreak.

And Chloe—Chloe continues to figure out how to unravel Beca more and more. Each touch of a hot mouth between her legs shatters Beca’s resolve. All kinds of words threaten to spill from her lips, each more dangerous than the last.

Be mine—

I love you—

I love you—

Stay—

Please don’t leave me.

And with every sure stroke of Chloe’s tongue against her wet, aching clit, Beca finds herself losing all semblance of the carefully-constructed path she had set for herself. She just has no idea when it was that Chloe tore down her walls.

 - - x - -

 “Before break, you, um, mentioned that your mom…” Chloe trails off hesitantly. “We don’t have to talk about her,” she says hesitantly watching Beca slowly close her book. “But I just wanted you to know that we could. If you want to.”

Beca observes how Chloe bites her lower lip slowly. The way her hands are curled into loose fists. “You can ask,” Beca allows, fixing Chloe with a gentle gaze.

The thought of talking about her mother is daunting most of the time. At least ninety-seven percent of the time. But Beca finds that it is something she wants to share with Chloe, if only to comfort both of them in that moment.

“I don’t really know what to ask,” Chloe admits.

“That’s okay.”

“I...when did she—?”

“I was probably five or six,” Beca replies, wracking her mind for some kind of memory. They are foggy at best. “She was sick,” she says simply. “That’s, um, all that I really remember. I have pictures of me with her, but that feels like an entire lifetime ago. My dad said that she liked to sing to me. Maybe that’s where the music thing comes from. I think about it now, you know? What it’d be like if she were still around. All of this.” You, Beca wants to say. She doesn’t manage to make it slip past the tip of the tongue.

Chloe nods with nothing but care in her expression. She reaches across the table to place her hands over Beca’s as the noise in the cafe fades to nothing but a dull nothingness. “I think she would be very proud of you.”

Beca marvels as that statement unlocks the floodgates of memories over the past few years at Barden. Yet another experience that she will not get to share with her mother, but the thought is comforting in how much Beca really believes Chloe when she says it.

“She would,” Beca agrees finally.

Chloe smiles at her and returns to her notebook.

“Why do you ask?”

“I’ve been…” Chloe licks her lips. “I’ve been coming to terms with what happened to Jamie and just how bad things have been at home. And I just...don’t know what I would have done without you last semester and this semester.” She smiles, a little shyly. “You’ve helped me more than you know, Beca.”

“I have?”

“Not just with the homework and the tutoring because I guess...I never really needed it. But what I needed was somebody like you to help pull me out from my own self-sabotage.”

“You did it all by yourself, Chloe. I’m just here to support you.”

Chloe’s lips twitch, this time neither sad nor happy. “You’re the first.”

Beca is quiet for a moment. “Jamie would be proud of you too, Chloe. No matter what you end up doing. He would be like...stupidly proud.”

“That sounds exactly like something he would say.” Chloe appears mildly amazed. “How do you always know what to say?”

Beca could say the same about Chloe.

 - - x - -

 “So New York, huh,” Beca’s father notes over dinner one cool evening. “That’s the plan.”

“Yes,” Beca says shortly because she doesn’t know what to expect.

He breaks into a smile. “I’m proud of you, Bec. You really stuck through it. And you’re almost done with tutoring forever. I assume it’s going well.”

That makes some of Beca’s previous elation dissipate quickly. “Yeah, it’s going well.”

It’s kind of hard to admit to her father that she’s kind of in love with the girl she’s tutoring. Not exactly dinner material.

 - - x - -

  Chloe <3 your original music is EVERYTHING I love it so much <3 And your voice!!!

Beca Glad you liked it :) I made it with you in mind

God, Beca knows she’s a sap, but she can’t help it. She can’t imagine what the freshman version of herself would say about all of this.

Chloe <3 Come over? I miss you

Beca supposes there isn’t much to say about that.

 - - x - -

 Somehow February flies by in a blink. Between tutoring and working part-time and the dawning realization that she really is going to move to New York at the end of the school semester, time is flying by far too quickly for Beca.

“Come with me to the studio today,” Chloe suggests. “I want to show you something.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a surprise, Beca,” Chloe explains, sounding very much like an exasperated adult lecturing a child. “Do you like surprises?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“I feel like you might like this one.”

“Will it involve sending your minion children to attack me?”

Chloe gasps. “No, but oh my God, that’d be adorable.” She smirks. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

Beca grumbles to herself. “Fine,” she agrees. “But one whiff of sabotage and I’m out of there,” she promises with no real bite.

“Deal,” Chloe laughs and pulls her in for a kiss.

Beca ends up learning exactly what Chloe had been teaching her little rascals all semester.

“I used your original song,” Chloe says shyly when the first notes reach Beca’s ears. She loops her hand around the crook of Beca’s elbow, tenderly stroking her skin while being ever mindful of young eyes. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“You choreographed a dance to my song.” 

Chloe nods. “I mean. Multiple," she admits sheepishly. "We started with your Rihanna remix. They love your music.”

“They’re ten.”

“Not that song. Your other remix. "We Found Love". I love that one," Chloe says in a dreamy tone. Beca knows exactly what Chloe is talking about. She had absolutely made it (as with most things recently) with Chloe in mind.

“Oh,” Beca murmurs, now entranced by the smiling, happy faces all around her. The dance is adorable and surprisingly complicated for a group of ten year olds.

It dawns on her fully that Chloe choreographed a dance to her music. Beca isn't necessarily one to really judge romantic gestures, but this makes something in her chest grow very tight. She can imagine the smile on Chloe's face as they had planned this little surprise over the previous few weeks. 

“This is what I want to do,” Chloe says suddenly and so quietly that Beca almost misses it.

“You want to do what?” she asks, leaning into Chloe’s side, eager to feel the warmth from Chloe's body.

Chloe’s arm comes up around her shoulder naturally. “Teach. Teach kids. Teach them how to be better like you taught me...well.” She trails off, shy for once. “Like how you taught me.”

“You want to be a teacher,” Beca clarifies.

“Yeah.”

“Chloe, I think that’s perfect.”

And it really is so amazingly perfect. Beca isn’t quite sure what to do with this new information. It hadn’t been something they had talked about, Chloe’s post-grad plans. Beca had (wrongfully, she notes) assumed that Chloe would just continue on to work for her father and then eventually work on something like a medical degree like her brother.

God, the thought of more years in school makes Beca want to die.

“You think I could be a good teacher?” Chloe asks, insecurity creeping into her tone. “I’m not...I’m not good at explaining things like you.”

“I’ve seen you with these kids,” Beca assures her. “You care so much about them and everything you teach them. And please, as if I could ever choreograph something and then teach it to somebody. Everybody’s teaching style is a little different.”

Chloe flushes, pleased by the compliment. “I mean...I guess it’s something to consider, right?”

“Right,” Beca agrees.

“Also,” Chloe begins, nudging Beca. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you’ve kept this whole singing thing from me. Imagine my surprise hearing your voice on that remix.” Chloe lowers her voice. “Surprise might be a loose word for it…”

Beca flushes this time, bright red. She can feel it on her face. “There are literally children around, Chloe. Shut up.”

“You can make me later.”

 - - x - -

 As expected, the lines blur between what they consider dates and Beca still keeping up the pretense that Chloe needs tutoring. With calculus well out of the way, statistics is an easier course to handle.

“We should study,” Beca murmurs, though she makes no move to wriggle out from underneath Chloe. She likes Chloe’s solid weight on top of her. She likes the feeling of Chloe’s soft curves pressed against her.

She likes knowing that Chloe is there.

“We should,” Chloe agrees. “I am paying you.” Her hand glides dangerously low down Beca’s belly before sweeping up again to gently grope at her breast, plucking at an already-stiff nipple.

Beca’s body is too easy.

“I don’t know if this was included in the lesson plan,” Beca breathes, though her hips have already begun to rock upwards against Chloe’s body to alleviate some of the pressure between her legs.

“Should I pay you extra?” Chloe asks, voice muffled by Beca’s neck. She begins to hum and whisper-sing into Beca’s neck, the opening bars to Titanium.

What a lovely voice, Beca thinks. She wishes she could have heard it more.

 - - x - -

 April comes too soon. After an extremely short spring break—thankfully spent along the coastal shores of Savannah at a quiet Airbnb (clothes optional)—Beca finds herself getting ready for a gala honoring Chloe’s father.

Beca knows that Chloe hates having to go to these kinds of events, but when she is the only daughter of the man who has buildings named after him on campus, it sounds like the kind of thing she has no real way out of.

“I think I am way too underdressed,” Beca complains, tugging at the fabric of her dress. “You look like a million bucks. I look like ten dollars. Maybe fifteen.”

Chloe laughs from where she is adding finishing touches to her make-up. The expanse of her back that is visible to Beca from where she is seated on the edge of Chloe’s bed sends all kind of dark, dirty thoughts through her head at an alarming pace.

Beca sits on her hands.

“You look wonderful,” Chloe says without even glancing in her direction.

“You didn’t even look at me.”

Chloe sighs, like she thinks Beca is being exceptionally annoying and puts down her mascara. Beca isn’t quite prepared for the heated, direct look Chloe fixes on her when she turns around. “I’m looking now,” Chloe all but purrs, stalking towards Beca with all the grace of somebody who knows exactly what she wants. “And I like what I see.”

“Oh,” Beca squeaks out when Chloe pulls at her hands so that they’re standing face-to-face.

“Stop worrying,” Chloe whispers, breath hot against her mouth.

Beca wishes she could just shut off her brain like that. “I’m not worried,” Beca murmurs, eyes trained directly on Chloe’s glossed lips.

“You’re worried,” Chloe singsongs before walking back to her vanity to again fiddle with her make-up.

Beca follows slowly. “You’re worried,” Beca says knowingly. Chloe rolls her eyes.

“No,” she replies. “I’m just annoyed that I have to go to this dumb event. Just to watch my dad get yet another award that he doesn’t need. A glorified paper weight”

“You don’t have to go,” Beca suggests even though she knows it’s a weak suggestion.

“Oh, yes I do,” Chloe laughs.

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

Chloe shoots her a look. “Are you sure you want to come?” she asks for the fifth time since she herself invited Beca.

Sighing, Beca reaches out so she can gently trap Chloe against the vanity. “Do you not want me to come?” she asks, trying to ignore the flash of pre-emptive hurt that rushes through her at the thought of Chloe not wanting her there.

“No,” Chloe says. Quick and urgent. Her eyes dart up to meet Beca’s in the mirror as she drops her make-up again. “No, I want you there,” she murmurs. “I just…don’t want you to be bored. It’s going to be boring and I don’t know how not boring I can make it for you.”

It is a reflection of Chloe’s influence on her that Beca’s first thought is something incredibly inappropriate for a gala, black-tie event. She stifles the thought, filing it away for when they return to Chloe’s apartment later that night.

“We can be bored together,” Beca suggests. “I downloaded like two episodes of The Office on my phone.”

Chloe relaxes, twisting in her arms. “Good episodes?”

“I guess we’ll see.”

“I like the idea of being bored together,” Chloe admits.

Beca nods, determined to brighten Chloe’s mood. “And there’s going to be free food.”

“I can’t promise it’s going to be good,” Chloe teases. “It’ll be that annoying fancy food that you hate. Just like in the movies.”

Beca reaches up to brush hair away from Chloe’s face. “Smoked salmon and cucumbers and crackers that I totally could have bought at the grocery store?”

“Yes.”

“I’m suffering through this for you so we’re definitely getting McDonald’s after.”

Chloe brightens, clearly charmed. She loops her arms over Beca’s shoulders, pulling her closer. Like each time Chloe pulls her into her orbit, Beca is breathless with how dizzying the force of her emotions are. “Carls?” Chloe asks eagerly.

“Pancakes it is.”

“Last chance,” Chloe warns. “You sure you don’t want to spend your Friday night with your friends?”

“Chloe,” Beca whines. “I want to be with you.” The words tumble from her before she has a chance to take them back or modify them to correct the course how deeply she actually feels for the woman in front of her. “I don’t want you to go alone. It’s final.”

“Beca,” Chloe murmurs. The heat in Chloe’s gaze makes Beca want to retract all her previous statements so they can spend the entire evening in bed. Beca’s sure she can convince Chloe.

Beca tries to smile innocently. “Is it working?”

Chloe sighs. “Is what working?” she asks with exasperation in her tone, but she is already stifling a smile.

“Making you feel better, weirdo.”

“I like the idea of coming home with you. That's making me feel better.”

Beca blows out a frustrated breath. She hates that Chloe can say impossibly sweet things but somehow make it completely dirty all at once. “Can I kiss you or will it mess up our lipstick?”

Chloe sighs exaggeratedly and finally sags fully into Beca’s arms. “I can fix it after,” she whispers before she is moving forward so that their lips can press together.

The event itself is nothing more than an opportunity for high-powered figures in academic and professional circles to schmooze with each other over expensive, endless alcohol and as Beca and Chloe had predicted, a surprising assortment of unnecessary finger foods.

“We should probably sit,” Chloe murmurs.

Beca startles, lowering her champagne flute from her mouth. She hadn’t thought about it before this very moment and it occurs to her that they’re probably going to be in plain view of Chloe’s parents. At the very least, Chloe’s father. Beca had tried to forget about that first dinner at Chloe’s parents’ house, but it was kind of difficult to shake Dr. Beale’s general intimidating force.

“We’re not sitting with your parents are we?” Beca asks in a panicked tone. She’s sure she has lipstick on her teeth.

“No, they get to sit with the other adults. I just get to be thrown into a photo later on.” Chloe smiles. “Why? Scared?”

“I mean, a little. Considering…” Considering we’re dating and now he knows I spent more time imagining you naked than tutoring you.

“Considering we have sex regularly,” Chloe finishes sagely. “Totally understandable.”

“No! Just...since I’m still tutoring you.” Beca hasn't necessarily considered their relationship like that in a long while. It is still jarring to think that other people perceive her and Chloe's relationship as being an entirely professional and educational one.

Chloe flutters her eyelashes. “You are?”

Beca swallows and quickly passes off her glass to a passing server. “Stop.” She glances around. “He could be anywhere.”

Chloe laughs and pulls Beca to sit down at their designated table. “You’re overreacting. He’ll probably be happy to see you. He thinks you’re a good influence.”

That eases some of Beca’s nerves for whatever reason. She supposes it might be something to do with the fact that her girlfriend’s father approves of her in some capacity (though not necessarily the right capacity). Beca allows Chloe to steer her into a seat.

Chloe politely greets the people seated at their table and makes small talk with some professors that Beca has no idea what department they’re even from.

It is a completely different world.

Beneath the table, Chloe’s hand moves to grip hers.

Beca never wants to let go.

/end ch. 4

read chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Side Effects ch.4 (baon)

Summary:  Jeff wasn't in California for the attack, but it doesn't mean he's unaffected.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Flirting, Mentions of Collars

CH1 | CH2 | CH3

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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Read it on AO3

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Read it here!

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...Lawyer, Spy

Jeff(Andy), Antwan, Red, Sans

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Jeff could hear the shower running and that more even than any jangling alarm was a sign it was time to get up. Antwan was a stickler in the mornings, he had a routine to go through and he did it like missing out on a proper moisturizing would ruin the day.

Not that Jeff was judging or anything; he couldn’t exactly argue that he didn’t appreciate the efforts. His own daily regiment tended not to have quite so many steps but even so, Jeff’s mental twin, Andy, was wishing that they could skip it all and stay in bed for the day, have a fierce game of ‘Word With Friends’ with Stretch be his most challenging task ahead.

He wasn’t complaining about the workload, hell, no, especially not with so much on the line. Ever since the whole California disaster came down, the entire Embassy had been working feverishly. Public Relations in particular took a hard hit with Humans yet again questioning the safety of having Monster’s living among them.

Jeff didn’t have a problem working hard. He’d spent a long time going to school full time and working alongside it, there’d been plenty of long days in his past. No other job had ever made him want to try so hard as this one. No days of dropping French fries in hot grease or shelving books could compare to knowing he was helping the people walking the streets of New New Home. Monsters who knew his name, who took the time to stop and chat with him or helped him out the time he got a flat tire. All of them depending on the Embassy to ensure they were able to live in this world.

He couldn’t pretend it all wasn’t a little daunting. Before taking Edge’s job offer, his biggest concern was finding an antique book in time for some birthday or a special anniversary. But now he had the neighborhood kids to think about, the ones Stretch was always teaching experiments or playing games with. The stress was getting laid on thick and the past few nights his sleep had been interrupted by nightmares.

Jeff sighed and rolled over, one hand absently settling over his abdomen where the scars were still pink and fresh. The dreams didn’t even have the kindness to be accurate and instead gave him exaggerated memories of pain and blood, of nightmarish men with grinning faces and knives for fingers with the sign for ‘Golden City’ hanging overhead like a bloated moon.

He’d woken in the darkness of the bedroom, tasting sweat and tears. As tired as Antwan was, he seemed to have a spider-sense for those bad dream nights. He’d wake up and turn on the light, the dim yellow glow illuminating the room and showing Jeff that he wasn’t on a dirty sidewalk with cigarette butts getting squashed into his clothes. Nothing around them but furniture and shelves, surrounded by orderly life. Next step was to pull Jeff into his arms and soothing his fears away, murmuring over and over that he loved him, that he was safe, that everything was okay, until he was able to sleep again.

It gave him a hell of a case of the guilts to keep Antwan up, but he still did it, settling into his arms, hoarding every single ‘I love you’ into his mental scrapbook. But the whole nightmare thing was stupid, and frustrating. Really, he hadn’t had this many problems when the whole stabbing actually happened. Why it was bothering him now, Jeff didn’t know, but if it had to be crawling out of the dark corners of his psyche to bother him, at least he could be grateful that Antwan was with him.

The shower was still running. Jeff reached over to grab one of Antwan’s pillows, burying his face against satin. It smelled like him, his cologne and shampoo that came in expensive-looking unmarked bottles. But not sex, not even a whiff of it, because they hadn’t done anything of the sort since the last time the sheets were washed. Mind and body were too tired, they both fell into bed, slept (or woke up to stupid nightmares), woke up, headed in to work. Wash, rinse, repeat.

But.

Jeff didn’t think he’d ever shared a bed with someone who was content just to sleep. Sex was usually a given, expected and doled out. Without it, the best he would have gotten in any of his past relationships was a weak offer to pay for an Uber.

It was…nice. To be able to lay in Antwan’s bed and not worry that the first thing out of his mouth would be ‘are you still here?’, but could be ‘I love you’ or ‘morning, baby,’ or even a quick question about going out to dinner before they came home.

Huh. Home.

Jeff wondered what Antwan would think if he knew Jeff was calling it that in his head. He didn’t think he’d mind. He hoped he wouldn’t.

That made him think guilty of Blue’s house. He only ever stopped in lately to change his clothes, stubbornly refusing to bring more than an overnight bag to Antwan’s. It felt cruel, they’d only been roommate for a couple of months and already Jeff was yearning to leave. With everything that happened, that painfully close call, all Jeff wanted was to pull Antwan closer and he kinda thought Antwan felt the same way. Plus, there was so much he had to handle right now, the Legal department was flooded with work and he wasn’t sure if Antwan even made it to see Edge yet.

Of anyone, Edge would understand but it probably didn’t make Antwan any happier about it.

The bathroom door opening interrupted his wallowing, Antwan wandered in from the shower with the towel his hips dangerously low. Made for a hell of a nice view, especially when instead of beelining to the closet, he detoured to the bed, sitting on the edge and leaning in for a kiss. “Morning, baby.”

“My breath is awful,” Jeff protested weakly.

“Don’t care.” But Antwan let Jeff keep it to a closed-mouth peck. When they drew apart, Antwan’s grin widened slyly. “I could give you a kiss someplace that won’t mind morning breath.”

“If you had time for that, you wouldn’t have taken a shower already,” Jeff said dryly, firmly instructing all places below the belt not to give in to the tease.

Antwan leaned away with a groan. “You’re right, we have depositions this morning and I need to get in. Take a rain check, sweetheart.”

“I’ll add it to the collection.”

It was meant a as a tease, but Antwan swooped down on him again and his mouth was as fierce as his words, uncaring of morning breath. “You better. Once things get settled down, I expect you to call them in. When do you have to go in?”

“Not until this afternoon,” Jeff admitted. His lower half was starting to…ahem…raise a protest about all the teasing. A dirty pun, Stretch would be so proud. “Catty told me to sleep in a little.” What she’d actually said was it looked like he was trying to smuggle luggage under his eyes, so he better get a little more sleep before coming back in before he ended up with a full set of fake Louis Vuitton.

One thing he was quickly learning was that the whole taking care of thing? It wasn’t just the skeleton Monsters who did it, plenty of others gave it their best shot. Perfect example, Janice, Edge’s assistant, brought muffins or treats down to the break room at least once a week. It hadn’t escaped Jeff’s notice that since Edge was out of commission, the style of those baked goods changed. Like maybe they were coming from a different kitchen, one attached to the Bun bakery, from a kind-hearted Bun lady who would feed up the Embassy for her boss until he returned.

And then there was Catty, brash and boisterous behind the scenes, but amazingly good at knowing the right thing to say in a press release or a speech. There was no hiding his exhaustion from her keen eyes and so he’d meekly agreed to come in later and sleep away his looming eye bags. If he was going to get any Louis Vuitton, he wanted it to be the real deal.

Still sitting on the bed, Antwan hummed thoughtfully. “This afternoon? Then can I get you to do a quick favor for me before you go in?”

That was unexpected. Curious. “Sure.”

Antwan went into the closet and when he came back out, he was regretfully wearing trousers but also carrying a small box, not much bigger than an Altoids tin. “Swing by Red’s place and drop this off. He’s out sick right now so he won’t be at the Embassy. It might have more impact coming from you, anyway. You know how to get there?”

He didn’t, but the address Antwan gave him wasn’t far. “What is it?”

Yeah, okay, that smile was kinda grim and evil. “He’ll know.”

Jeff took the box, warily. “I’d like to say now that I am opposed to getting in the middle of some kind of prank war between you and Red.”

“No pranks,” Antwan reassured him. “Fuck, no, I wouldn’t do that to you without hiring a bodyguard first. Ask him what they are.”

Yeaaaaah, that probably wasn’t gonna happen. Antwan disappeared back into the closet and Jeff rolled back over, planning on getting a little more of that sweet, sweet morning off sleep. Dealing with what was in the box could wait.

~~*~~

The address Antwan gave Jeff was for the neighborhood that everyone called Old New Home. He drove down the road curiously, tires crunching on the barely plowed pavement. From what he knew, not many Monsters still lived here. Stretch told him these houses were ones put up hastily when they’d first arrived, not much more than a roof over their heads and nothing like the nice, spacious homes everyone was living in now. Some Monsters hadn’t wanted to move, though, and Asgore didn’t force a new place on anyone. But it did mean that the streets were emptier than any others Jeff had seen. The houses weren’t falling down or anything, but most of them did give off an aura of disuse.

The house with the number plate that Antwan gave him was only a step up. Nothing was shoveled but there were footsteps through the snow, leading up to the sidewalk and porch. The driveway was empty; come to think of it, he wasn’t sure Red owned a car, and the curtains were drawn tight over a picture window.

There was no one on the street, the neighboring houses sat with empty, staring windows and untouched snow on their walkways.

Yeah, wow, no Texas Chainsaw Massacre vibes here.

Jeff parked his car on the street and got out, box in hand. There was no way Antwan sent him on a morning death trip, Jeff told himself sternly, following the tamped down path to the door. For one, if Antwan wanted to get rid of him, there had to be easier ways than death by the semi-creepy skeleton gremlin he’d smoked weed with once.

He made it to the door and knocked lightly, hesitantly. Antwan said something about Red being sick and much as he wanted to shove the box at him and hightail it out, he didn’t really want to wake him if he was sleeping it off.

What he did not expect was an entirely different short skeleton to answer the door. Jeff readjusted his perceptions from red to blue as Sans looked up at him.

“heya, andy,” he yawned. He stepped back and held open the door “c’mon in.”

If Red had answered the door, Jeff probably would have shoved the box at him and left. He was Edge’s brother and he worked for the Embassy, so he had to be a good guy, but something about Red was so damned intense. Their private chat a little while ago in his office had been…illuminating and Jeff wouldn’t mind chatting with Red again, but only on his own turf.

Sans, though, he was something else. Jeff liked Sans; they’d done some work together a while back in Stretch’s old lab. Well, okay, Sans did the science and Jeff cleaned up, but still. He seemed a little like Stretch, all puns and hoodies, but Jeff wasn’t really convinced.

He had a bead on everyone else; Edge was a stoic knight in need of some shining armor, and Stretch was the cuttingly brilliant court jester/magician. Red was wearing his secret agent gear and Blue was the caretaker, ready to hop in at any given moment with plenty of tea and opinions. Papyrus was the kid brother Jeff never had and always wanted and that left Sans as…what?

And enigma that was what, hiding secrets behind that permanent smile, and Jeff followed him into the house, asking, “Helping out Red while he’s sick?”

“somethin’ like that,” Sans said agreeably. He was wearing fuzzy pink slippers, socks sagging down his ankles. “want some coffee?”

“Um.” Jeff looked around. The house was…well. Jeff had lived in the college dorms and recently with four other guys crammed into an apartment, and none of those places had been quite this level of trashed. The sofa was sagging at an odd angle, standing despite what was probably a few broken struts. There was a fine litter of trash everywhere, the few clean places like islands with filled garbage bags in the middle. A tabby cat was on the coffee table, tail swishing as it stared at Jeff with deep, all-seeing eyes that made him want to shiver. Hell, if that was what cats were like in New New Home, no wonder Stretch didn’t like them.

Sans’s grin widened, clearly unoffended by Jeff’s lack of enthusiasm. “don’t worry, the kitchen is clean. c’mon, handy andy, caffeine is the best social lubricant they ever came up with.”

He was right about one thing, the kitchen was a lot cleaner and on the counter was a Keurig, the newest looking thing in the whole house. Sans brewed a cup for Jeff and handed it over, leaning against the counter while he started up a second.

Sans waited long enough for Jeff to doctor his coffee with sugar and cream, then asked, “so what can i do for you?”

“Um, Antwan asked me to bring Red this box.” Jeff pulled it out of his pocket and set it on the table, plain and innocuous. Sans hummed curiously and grabbed his cup of coffee, wandering over to the table.

He poked the box with an idle finger, “antwan did, huh. normally, that wouldn’t worry me too much, but he and red were squabbling not too long ago.”

“Squabbling?” That was news to him, he’d always thought Antwan and Red were at least okay friends. They had a regular outing on Wednesdays at the bar, talking about who the hell knew what, maybe only watching a game? Jeff wasn’t much into sports and a couple times, Jeff went to bed without Antwan on a Wednesday and got woken up by whiskey-sweet kisses that turned into some great sex. Hanging out with Red relaxed Antwan, usually, and Jeff had a vested interest in hoping those two weren’t on the outs. “About what?”

“oh, you know,” Sans said absently. He reached up, those bony fingers settling at his throat and for the first time Jeff noticed that over the collar of Sans’s shirt he was wearing what looked like a choker of some sort.

He’d never seen Sans wearing anything but his normal hoodie and shorts, with the only exception being Stretch and Edge’s wedding. Something that pretty on him almost seemed out of place, delicately tooled leather with an intricate buckle.

“Wow, that’s really nice! Detailed work, is it new?” Jeff reached out without thinking and Sans slid back a step so smoothly it hardly looked like he moved at all. That woke his stupid ass up; for crying out loud, Sans was wearing a collar with a heart buckle and he didn’t twig to it? A hot blush flooded his face as Jeff stammered out, “Oh, fuck, sorry! Of course, it’s personal, that was so stupid of me!”

“nah, it’s okay, andy, you didn’t know,” Sans’s easy grin didn’t fade one iota, perfectly cheerful. “it is new, still getting used to it.” Jeff nodded so hard his neck joints popped and Sans picked up the box, shaking it lightly. “any idea what it is?”

“Antwan told me to ask Red,” Jeff admitted.

“huh. why don’t we find out?”

Curiosity overwhelmed Jeff, drowning any guilt and leftover embarrassment. Hey, he wasn’t the one opening it, right?”

Sans slit open the tape holding the box closed with one bony finger, lifting the lid. His eye lights flared, a mini supernova of white, then dimmed back down, showing nothing but amusement. “heh, okay, hint taken.”

Jeff only frowned, peering at the contents. They looked like thumbtacks, cuff-links? He wasn’t sure, weird rounded bits of metal with pokey-looking ends. “What are they?”

“all the surveillance devices red hid in your place.”

Sans said it with such ease that it took a second for Jeff to actually hear the words. “Wait, what?”

Sans offered a lazy shrug. “it’s just audio and he keeps ‘em to the common areas, no bedrooms or johns. look at it this way, red has unique ways of showing he cares. he doesn’t even listen to ‘em, really, it’s more like…just in case.”

That seemed like a whale-sized understatement. But Antwan clearly wasn’t too upset about it if all he was doing was returning them to the sender.

Probably he should be pissed off about this. At Red, Antwan, even Sans, it was obvious he knew about them and no one bothered to give him a heads up. It was a huge damned invasion of privacy and if Jeff found them in an AirBnB he probably would have the police on the phone.

But instead he found himself weirdly touched, almost giggling at the mental image of Red creeping through the patio door to plant listening devices in their kitchen, sneakers creaking with every step like an old-timey cartoon.

He wondered a little giddily what the first signs of Stockholm syndrome were.

Bemused, Jeff shook the box. There were a lot of them. “So, how many are at Edge and Stretch’s place?”

“heh, i’m not even sure he knows anymore.”

“i know exactly how many, and where they all are, thanks.” That voice came from the doorway and Jeff jerked, almost spilling his coffee as he turned to see Red standing there, hands tucked into his pockets, grinning at them both with sharky teeth.

He was wearing a ratty sweatshirt and shorts, his trademark jacket missing and his bony feet bare. It made him look smaller and maybe most people would seem more vulnerable like that, stripped down to their basics. Jeff didn’t think much could make that word apply to Red. Instead, it made him think of the way a mongoose could fight a cobra.

Red wandered in and Jeff was pretty sure the surprise on Sans’s face was mirrored on his own when Red gave Sans a kiss, stealing his coffee cup in the process. He kept an arm slung around Sans, who looked positively frozen, sockets wide, his eye lights extinguished, wow, that was the face of someone who needed a processor reboot, stat.

“like the new gear, huh.” Red smirked, licking his teeth as he ran what could only be called a possessive thumb over that smooth black leather. “he finally has my name all over him.” And before Jeff could come up with anything to say to that, Red looked him over, assessing. “you’d look good in one, too. maybe i should mention it to antwan.”

Okay, holy shit, back this way the hell up. “I…uh…I’d really rather you didn’t.”

Red licked his teeth again, those crimson eye lights glittering with fiendish humor. “don’t play those games, huh?”

Well he wouldn’t say that--”Um…I think Antwan might be grouchy with you.” He reached out and pushed the little box in Red’s direction and it was not in desperate self-preservation, thank you, he was only making sure he could tell Antwan honestly that he’d given it to Red.

“no sense of humor,” Red murmured. He peered into the box, poking into it with one sharp finger. “huh, looks like he found all of ‘em. good on him.”

Yeahhhh, like he didn’t believe Red was just saying that while there were three other ones were still tucked into the ceiling fan or something. “You’re going to sneak more cameras into his…our house. Aren’t you.”

Red and Sans both had an awful shrug addiction and Jeff was slowly starting to figure out to how to read the subtitles attached to them. Red’s most recent shrug held an undercurrent of defensiveness, proved by the way he said, “i keep a close eye on shit. especially my family, kid, you get me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” From the way that made a flutter of warmth rise in Jeff’s chest, he’d say that his Stockholm syndrome was coming along nicely.

Red nodded. “good. remember it and you’ll do fine.” He tapped a finger against Jeff's coffee mug, the pointed tip tinging against the ceramic. "you done espresso-ing yourself now?.

Sans looked like he was starting to slowly recover from his shock, eye lights back, but still a little dazed. Not that Jeff could blame him, Red was still stroking that collar, his fingers grazing the bone above the leather and Jeff was pretty sure he was in danger of overstaying his welcome. Whatever Red said he had when he called in sick, Jeff thought it might be the better side of staying alive to not spread it around it was actually for a booty call. A booty call that was getting dangerously close to being on speakerphone.

He hastily downed the last of his nearly cold coffee and stood, blurting out, “Um, yes! Thank you.”

“thanks for what, andy?” Red purred out, right next to the little ear hole on Sans’s skull. Sans’s eye lights dilated down to pinpricks and yeah, this was starting to feel like a bad invitation to early foreplay. His own body was perking up, fuck, he wasn’t attracted to Red or Sans, but it’d been days, he was young, and he was used to some pretty regular orgasm time. Thinking about any kind of sex was putting him at risk; the absolutely last thing he wanted was to pop an accidental boner in front of the all-seeing spy here.

“For everything,” Jeff blurted. “For, um, taking the box. I’ll see you later at…somewhere!”

He was halfway to the door when Red called out, teasingly. “see you around, handy andy. next time the coffee is on you, brewtiful.”

So damned knowing. Jeff ignored it and his flaming cheeks, hurrying out the door, nearly slamming it behind him as he ran out to his car. There were still a few hours before he had to be to work. Plenty some time for a little personal handling.

Hm, might even be a chance to try something a little risqué. Jeff never was keen on nude pictures or videos; he’d seen way too many people get screwed over with those. But those recording devices gave him an idea; audio only.

With a little effort, maybe he could come up with something for Antwan to listen to on his ride home, to help stave off the exhaustion. Probably not the outcome Antwan was expecting, but hey, Jeff had a few rain checks to call in.

Might be time to get started.

tbc

[translatingtotodile]

敗者のマーチ / March of Losers (Neru)

お腹が鳴っても金は無い 万の粗相に悔いもない My stomach is rumbling and I have no money, I have no regrets about my carelessness こんな人生に意味は無い 敗者の御出座だ There is no meaning to this life, it’s the loser’s gathering

一難去ってまた一難 触らぬ神にも祟り有り Once one difficulty goes away, another appears. The spirit you do not approach has already cursed you. [1] 七度転べば八度転ぶ 敗者のお通りだ Fall down seven times, fall down eight times, let the losers through [2]

あー 腐りきって 楽になってしまえよ Ah, regretfully, I become comfortable in being useless 笑われるくらい慣れてんだろ I’m used to gloomily laughing, I think

さあ、せーので地獄と知っていたって構わず飛び込んで 進め進め Come now, all together we’ve known about hell and uncaring we’ve plunged in, forward, forward さあ、さっさと其の手のプライドを一切おさらばしよう Come now, quickly and totally bid farewell to that kind of pride 一生 盲目状態だっていいやって 僕は思うのです The whole world is blind to its circumstances. ‘Oh well’, is what they think 

娑婆の空気に救いは無い 初学の類いもわからない The state of the world cannot be saved, we cannot begin to learn that kind of thing こんな人生に意味は無い 敗者の哲学だ This life has no meaning, that’s the loser’s philosophy

あー 汚れていて それでもって無粋な Ah, we’re dirty but not unfashionable 君だからこそ今歓迎しよう I extend you a warm welcome

さあ、倫理に背を向け天国だって構わず飛び出して So turn back on your morals that are aimed towards heaven, don’t care about them, break away 進め 進め Forward, forward さあ、ポップにお涙頂戴なんて勘弁願いたい Well, this pop music is a real tear-jerker, I hope for your forgiveness そんな 情状酌量は御免だって 僕は思うのです I don't want sympathy due to my circumstances [3]

声の合図が聞こえるかい 敗者のマーチがやってきた Can you hear my voice cue?  It’s the arrival of the loser’s march 笛が鳴ったら前倣え 迷わず前倣え When the whistle sounds get in line, without getting lost, get in line Bye-bye-byeって合図が聞こえるかい 君の出番が迫ってきた Can you hear my cue of “bye bye bye”? Your turn has drawn near 笛が鳴ったら喉を裂け その手で喉を裂け When the whistle blows, my throat tears. In that way, my throat tears

僕は 無様なんて 微塵も思っちゃいないさ I really don’t think it is uncouth at all 少しだけ踏み外しただけ なあそうだろ I’ve just lost my footing a little bit, it really seems that way

さあ、せーので地獄と知っていたって構わず飛び込んで 進め進め Come now, all together we’ve known about hell and uncaring we’ve plunged in, forward, forward そうさ、ロックに目覚めた少年だっていつかは飽きる It seems that young men who become aware of rock music sooner or later get tired of it [4] そんな最期なら As for that kind of death…

さあ、一気に気が触れてしまうような底まで Well, instantly I can feel my spirit, unfortunately. It feels the lowest. さあ、なんて素晴らしいこんな時代とおさらばしよう So, let’s say goodbye to a very wonderful era そんな 優越感がハッピーなんだって 僕は思うのです Such a superiority complex makes me happy, that’s what I think

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[1] This appears to be a play on the Japanese idiom "触らぬ神に祟りなし", which translates to "the spirit you do not approach will not curse you".

[2] This appears to be a play on the Japanese idiom "七転び八起き", which translates to "fall down seven times get up eight".

[3] JellyCat explained that " 情状酌量 refers to "(the reduction of punishment) due to presumable circumstances". They say they don't want anything like sympathic evaluation [resulting from presumable circumstances so others said], and in other words they will enjoy the reputation they deserve". Also, "御免(ごめん), something of a casual phrase, means to turn down or to refuse. We often use it as Aは御免だ, "A isn't my thing" in English."

[4] I think this may be a reference to Neru's older music, which is rock.

Thank you to Jelly Cat for proofeading.

LyricsTranslate link: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/haisha-no-ma-chi-march-losers.html