#some of you may vaguely recall this AU

[jungkookstatts]

As Thunder Rolls

[Summary]: You know Taehyung is the one. You knew it since the first day you saw him, when thunder rolled through the sky. But your lives don't collide. They might be too different to choose both.

[Theme]: Rich Reader, Law Student Reader, Construction Worker TH, Poor TH, Rich Girl Poor Boy AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes, sexual content, unprotected sex, kissing, making out, marking, angst, familial separation, topics of class, and triggering opinions of some characters

[Word Count]: 8,296

[A/N]: First TH fic!! I hope it is enjoyable~ This might be my last fic for a little bit. Going to be focusing on school and working really hard until the summertime :)

People say that when you fall in love, your life develops new meaning. They say that your life changes as you fall, and you watch it spiral out of your control over a silly feeling you can’t help.

You can say that the people, whoever they may be, are correct. Love happened to you quite unexpectedly, and completely out of the box you put your goals for the future inside.

Taehyung happened during the city's worst monsoon season in over 50 years. His rain-stained jeans and dirty white construction t-shirt clung to his skin, showing you all of his tanned glory as the rain fell angrily. You stood on the top step of your sister’s corporate building, looking down at him three steps below you.

“You got a spare umbrella, by chance?” he asked you. Caramel-colored, wet hair covered his forehead. But you could still see the discomfort in his eyes due to the harsh rain.

Looking at your own umbrella in your grip, you shook your head, telling him that this was your only one.

“You know a place around here where I can find one?” he asked.

“I’m not familiar with the area,” you explained.

“Me neither,” he smiled as he looked down at his red Converse.

There was an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. You felt bad for the guy, clearly well-underprepared for the season. Your designer coat and accessories terribly clashed with his, an obvious difference in class confronted you in the face. There was a feeling of fear, you remember. Back then, you used to be one of those people who thought terribly of people like him. Thinking that he’d ask for your Burberry umbrella and never return it. You thought maybe he’d pull you aside and forcibly rob you of your money just because his shirt had a few stains and the brand name of the city’s lower-end construction company was written on the fabric. You associated him with the worst of the worst, just because of his class. Or rather, assumed class.

But those eyes captured your soul. They were warm, and his smile sent medicine to your heart, healing all those presumed thoughts and replacing them with the benefit of the doubt.

“I think there is a 7/11 around the block,” you recalled from your memory.

Thunder rolled through the city skies, and you clutched your umbrella harder. You never liked thunderstorms. There was a sense of urgency to get home to avoid any more of this growing storm, and fast. But this guy — you wanted to continue talking to him.

He raised an eyebrow at you, looking to his left.

You raised your chest, nervously pointing in the opposite direction.

“Down there,” you corrected him.

“Ah,” he smiled. It was faint, but you noticed his upper lip formed the shape of a heart before another roll of thunder drummed through the sky. You winced, and his smile faded.

“I’ll let you be on your way, then,” he said. “Thank you.”

You nodded, and he suddenly turned his back, walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the vague 7/11 down the street. He hiked the back collar of his t-shirt over his head, creating a small hat to shield his eyes from the unwanted shower. You watched the exposed skin on the small of his back as raindrops trickled into the hem of his jeans.

Suddenly, your heart skipped in your chest, and you did something your carefully formed character would never allow.

“W-Wait,” you stumbled. The click of your heeled boots rang in your ears as you walked down the small set of stairs and onto the sidewalk.

The man turned around, his posture straightening at the sight of you.

Quickly, you went to him, covering his head with your umbrella.

“I-I’ll come with you,” you offered.

His close proximity flooded all of your senses. Your fingers visibly began to shake, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when you saw how tremendous the height difference was between the two of you.

“Thank you,” he softly said.

At that moment, you knew your life changed. You saw yourself in his eyes, maybe staring a little too long for two strangers who hadn’t even exchanged names yet. But you looked into them, and somehow the raging storm had transferred from the sky into your heart.

You became a jumbled mess after then, as Taehyung had exchanged his name with yours, along with all of his habits, hobbies, and love.

Every day after that was filled with giggles and kisses and sleepless nights wrapped in his sheets. He had shown you the other side of the world, and you accepted it with him by your side. He took things from you you couldn’t imagine anyone else being worthy enough to take. All your firsts, and what you hope, all your lasts, too.

But something had been sitting at the back of your mind ever since you laid eyes on him, creating an unsettling feeling.

He was, indeed, nowhere near the class you grew up in. Living in the worst part of the city with his younger brother and sister and parents in a small, 2-bedroom apartment. He worked overtime on most days; all of his earnings he gave to his mother was to pay rent. His brother had just become old enough to help out. However, Taehyung explained that he caught him a few times slacking — the young boy claiming that he was working but instead at the casino with his friends. His younger sister was 6 years old and by far the sweetest young girl you knew. She became someone like your own sister, someone you chose to connect with on a level you weren’t able to do with your own siblings. His father fell ill a few years ago and became unable to work a demanding job. Instead, he and his wife work at their own small grocery store on the lower level of the building down the street.

His family welcomed you generously, never once commenting on your class, never once making it a topic of conversation. They called you their daughter.

What was unsettling was not the circumstances involving his family. It was the circumstances involving your own.

You hadn’t mentioned him to your parents by choice. You knew how they would react, especially considering your father had already begun selecting the sons of his most trusted colleagues to propose a marriage. Though you are not ashamed of Taehyung, your family would most definitely be. They would never accept him as your love. It would be too tarnishing to their name, too embarrassing to taint the family with someone whose house costs less than their dining room table.

You kept Taehyung out of it, which doesn’t necessarily mean he won’t stop asking about meeting your family. He’s serious enough about you to want to take things further. But it puts you in an awkward situation, like now. Gasping into the sheets of his bed, his dick pulling out of you as cum falls down your thighs.

“Baby?” he pants, hovering over you and kissing up your shoulder to your cheek. He’s still catching his breath, as are you. He just railed the fuck out of you and still begs for conversation? You will never understand this man.

“Hm,” you ask, resting your head on your forearm in a desperate attempt to control your breathing.

“I want to meet your parents,” he bites the shell of your ear gently.

You groan loudly, tired of this topic of conversation. It seems to be the only thing on his mind these days.

In the two years you two had been dating, Tae was finally able to afford a place of his own while still helping his family. His brother stepped up and managed to land a good position at a nearby company that really helped with the family finances. Hence, Taehyung’s newfound freedom from the cramped space with his family. But ever since he moved into his new apartment two weeks ago, he’s been set on (a) “christening” every nook and cranny of his new place with you and (b) meeting your family.

“Baby, can we not talk about this right now?” you press your fingers to your temple before running them into your hair.

“We never have talked about it,” he reminds you. You pause, knowing he’s right. You’ve always swayed him away from saying anything about the topic other than simply asking to talk about it.

“Why would you want to meet my parents,” you begin. You feel him smile a little, happy to start this long-awaited talk.

“Because you met mine,” he slides his elbows under your armpits, resting his chin on your shoulder. You feel secure when he’s holding you like this, his chest embracing your back as he lets his weight rest on your body. If only the moment wasn’t ruined by the topic of conversation.

“I don’t want you to meet my parents,” you finally say. You know his heart broke a little from your words, being such a family man. But you feel obligated to be honest about this.

“What? Why not?” he crinkles his eyebrows together, pressing his nose into your cheek.

“Because, Tae,” you sigh into your palm. “They’re not…nice people.”

He lets the two of you sit in silence for a while, and you know he knows what you mean by that.

“It’s because I have no money, isn’t it?” he finally lets out.

You grab his hand, drawing circles into his palm.

“Essentially,” you sigh. It doesn’t feel good to admit that. Disappointment floods your veins for him, wishing your family was less shallow. Maybe then, your response would have been different. “You know I don’t care about that stuff. But they…they do.”

“Your siblings?” he asks.

“They’re all like that,” you continue, playing with his knuckles. “I’m the only one, it seems, that isn’t.”

He plays with your hand, sliding into your fingers to hold it.

“Do you wish you were?” he whispers seriously.

“No,” you laugh.

Finally, you turn around in his embrace, looking at his face from beneath him. This man is truly the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on. Your palm holds the soft skin of his cheek as you search his eyes.

“Growing up, I used to be a little bit,” you admit. “But then I came to university. And I met you,” you rub his cheek with your thumb. “And you kind of flipped my whole world around.”

“Sorry,” he smiles. “Wasn’t the plan,” he pecks your lips. “I just needed an umbrella.”

You chuckle at that, pulling his face against yours to sear your lips into his. He accepts you, breathing into the kiss with chapped cherry lips and a big stupid blush on his face.

“I just want their blessing,” he clears his throat. “I-Is all.”

“For?” you peck his lips again.

“For me to date their daughter, amongst other things,” he laughs through his nose. “It’s also been…a little while.”

You do feel bad, as he had introduced you to his family about three months into dating. It’s been two years, and your family doesn’t even know you are dating someone.

“You’ll meet them when they have a reason to meet you,” you sigh against his nose. “They’re like that. It has to be on their terms, not mine or yours.”

“Hopefully, that’s sometime soon,” he says before kissing you deeply. You let him, wanting his lips to erase the scenarios you’ve let flood into your head of Taehyung meeting your family. You kiss him, asking him to heal you again, to give you the endless positivity he has within himself. But you can’t shake it this time around. You have a bad feeling about it, every time you think about making things just that more official with your family meeting him. You know Taehyung is it for you. But will your parents accept that? Your gut twists and turns at the thought, your answer spelled out for you.

___

Law school used to be interesting.

Back when lectures were shorter and the professors actually cared about their job, you had a fun time. Now, you sit through your lectures with the palm of your hand dragging the skin of your cheek upward as you lean against it. You stare at the oldest fart of a professor talk in circles, “womp wo-womp womp”, like in the Charlie Brown phone scenes. The only thing that keeps you from dozing off is the thought of your date tonight.

Last week, Taehyung had been working at this new site at this development on the other side of the city. They put in a fountain lake, with three willow trees (your favorite). Your boyfriend, of course, knew this and set up the idea of a picnic date along the new Willow Tree Lake. Just the thought alone makes you giddy.

These days, Taehyung has been working terrible overtime in an area near campus. Something about the pipes being plugged with slow-forming concrete from a newer company that started off just a few months ago. They fucked up a lot of the city’s piping, and of course, the company Tae works for has been assigned to fix all of their damage.

Needless to say, you feel like you haven’t seen him in ages. Only quick cell phone calls and tired texts in the small hours of the morning and night. You miss him terribly, and your body springs to life when the professor calls the end of the lecture. It’s your last one of the day, and you nearly run out to make your way to your car, ready to start preparing for your date tonight.

You’re met with a surprise, however, when you exit your dorm.

A chalky hand grabs onto your wrist, intertwining his fingers with yours, before pulling you into his chest.

“Hi, baby,” he smiles sheepishly.

“Tae!” you squeal, letting go of his hand and jumping into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, his own around your waist as he spins you in the open air of the campus. You giggle against him, quietly screaming when he goes a little fast. Eventually, he lets your feet feel the ground again, and you feel a strong urge to kiss him. It’s been so long.

“You’re so chalky,” you brush at his face, white powder smearing on his skin.

With that, he shakes out his hair onto yours, white dust falling onto your skin.

“Ah! Tae!” You shield your face from his assault. But he’s unrelenting, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you in for a kiss.

You let him kiss you, his big hands stroking your cheek. You don’t let him go on for too long, still not one to be too fond of PDA like he is.

“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung’s smile fades when he looks at your dress.

“Wha—” you look down at your dress, your white Chanel dress, covered in soot and powder and dirt, transferred from his clothes onto yours. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” he gulps, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I wasn’t thinki—”

“It’s okay,” you smile, holding his hand. “Nothing my dad won’t buy a carbon copy of with a good excuse. To him, I fell. Plain and simple.”

Your words don’t do much, his sorry expression written all over his face still. You cup his cheek, reassuring him.

“What are you doing here, anyways?” you change the subject.

“The pipe issue I told you about ended up going into some apartment building. They sent me up there and the ceiling fell in. Hence all the…white stuff and dust,” he shows you his powdery hands, as if his cheeks and hair weren’t enough to prove his story. “Anyway, the civil engineers ended up needing to go back to the main building and find a new plan to go about it. So they sent us all home early. Thought I would come and surprise you.”

“It worked,” you kiss him again.

“I should probably go though,” he cuts the time short. “I want to shower before our date.”

“That would be nice, you’re right,” you laugh. “I’ll see you at 7, then?”

“Mhm,” he squeezes your hand again before looking down at your dress one last time. You can tell he’s still beating himself up over it when he tightly runs his hands through his hair and sends you a tight-lipped smile as if still saying sorry. You send him one back, letting him know it’s okay. And with that, he leaves your presence.

You’re alone until you reach home a little past 4. When you walked into your house, the last thing you were expecting was your eldest sister, brother, and parents waiting for you in the dining room.

“D-Did I miss something?” you laugh awkwardly. They all seem to be looking at you, disappointment or disgust written on their faces at the sight of your dress. You do your best to hide it with your purse.

“No,” your sister starts. “But we seem to be missing the part where you let dirty construction workers make out with you in public.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet, a cold heat spreading throughout your body.

“Susanna,” you pinch the skin between your eyebrows. “It’s not like that.”

“Please, enlighten us, then,” she snobs.

You take a breath, ready to explain yourself. But your father stops you.

“Invite the boy over,” he calmly states.

“What?” all four of you say at once.

“Dad, are you crazy?” your brother laughs. “He’s a construction worker.”

“Ren, please,” you attempt to control your anger. You don’t like the way they are talking about him right now. Only mentioning his job and ignoring the rest.

“What, don’t like me talking down on your pet?” he smiles, doing his best to get under your skin. It’s working, that’s for sure.

“Seriously, darling, what are you thinking?” your mother puts her hand on your father's arm.

“The boy clearly has feelings for my daughter,” he sets down his brandy on the dining table. “And, if I’m not mistaken, she has the same feelings.”

Your sister looks at you in disgust, wondering how you could ever fall for someone so low class.

“Besides, he owes me a good explanation for destroying your clothes,” he clears his throat. “That was custom designed.”

—

You run to your car after the ‘meeting’ your family welcomed you home with. Your hands shake and tremble, trying to start the car without bursting into tears.

Without even calling him, you race to Taehyung’s apartment, knocking on his door with panic laced in every vein of your body.

He opens it, a big smile warming your heart. But it quickly fades at the pale look on your face.

“What’s wrong,” he pulls you into his apartment.

He’s showered since you last saw him. He changed into his PJs, not yet ready to get into his outfit for your date tonight. On any other day, you would be struck with the comfy boyfriend look, ready to pounce into his arms and hold him close until the sun rose. But not today. Today, you have uncertainty flowing through your veins. Could this be the end? Could this be the start of something new? What will happen between now and midnight?

“Baby, talk to m—”

“My parents want to meet you,” you interrupt him.

“What?”

“T-They want to meet you,” you say again. “Actually, my entire family wants to meet you. Today. Tonight. For dinner. At my house.”

You watch him take it all in, his expression changing rapidly into emotions you can’t really put a label on. You’ve never seen this expression on his face. You’re sure it’s a bit of excitement, as he’s always wanted to meet them. But also a little bit of worry, as you’ve told him what they think of people like him.

“I-Is this about the dress?” he asks worriedly.

“Kind of!” you panic, your hands running through your hair. Frustrated tears flood your eyes. You’re just so frustrated with this situation. With your sister, with your brother and dad. With everyone but Taehyung. He doesn’t deserve this. “My sister saw us today, apparently. A-And she went to my parents, a-and they were waiting for me when I got home, along with my brother. My dad was the one who suggested you come over, and I don’t know why. I can’t read what any of them are trying to say.”

“Hey,” he grabs your shoulders. You start to cry, fat tears falling down your cheeks.

“This is not how I wanted today to go,” you cry-laugh to yourself.

“I know,” he kisses your forehead. “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t know what to do,” you candor as you fall into his neck, sobbing against his shirt.

His big palms rub your back. You’re sure he’s a little shocked right now. You’ve told him about your family. About what kind of people they are. You’re sure he’s scared, too. You hate this. You wish you could just run away and avoid it all.

“Let’s start with figuring out what I’m going to wear, yeah?” he gently smiles down at you.

___

Dinner is awkward. So awkward.

It’s quiet, and your leg bounces rapidly in your seat.

Your parents hadn’t let Taehyung sit next to you. Rather, he sits across from you, unable to soothe your nerves with a hand on your thigh or palm.

Your sister and brother sit next to you, your parents on either end of the table. There are two empty seats next to Taehyung, him being closest to your father.

You’re sure your siblings had interrogated him a little when your mother forced you to change into something else when the two of you got here. Clad in a pink flowy dress and a braid, you nervously made your way down the stairs and into the dining room, only to find your boyfriend in front of his seat, nodding to the space between your siblings as your own.

Since the appetizers came in, no one had spoken a word.

It’s terribly uncomfortable, and you try to distract yourself by silently telling Taehyung to put his napkin in his lap instead of next to his plate. Your brother laughs, and you jab your elbow into his side.

“So,” your father starts. His voice sends a shock down your spine. “I’m sure you have a good explanation for the dress.”

Your nerves spike the highest they’ve ever been. The dress isn’t really that important. Had it been anyone else, maybe someone your father knew or liked, the dress would be replaced without a word the next day. His pressure on the dress with Tae makes you think he will use it against him, causing you to bounce both of your legs up and down rapidly.

“Yes, I—” you start, but your father raises his palm slightly, telling you to stay quiet and let him answer.

“Yes,” Taehyung clears his throat. “I apologize, sir. I was simply being careless. I was excited to see your daughter, and had acted before realizing what she was wearing.”

“That was custom made,” your sister starts. “By Chanel.”

Taehyung doesn’t seem to recognize the name, making your sister smile snottily.

“It’s a brand,” she shoves her food into her mouth with a snobby tug of her lips.

You clutch the end of your silverware, trying to transfer all the things you wish you could scream into the piece of silver metal.

“Enough,” your father stops her interrogation. He has made it clear he would be the one interrogating tonight. “I do have to ask, though,” he turns his attention toward Tae again. “What makes you think you’re worthy of seeing my daughter?”

The table is silent, everyone’s mind empty but your own. You could think of a million reasons, maybe even more than that, as to why he deserves you. But does Taehyung think he deserves you? You thought you made it clear within the past two years that he does, but his silence speaks for itself.

After a few more seconds of being silent, your father laughs a little through his nose.

“I am aware of your financial situation so that already docks a big chunk off your worth,” he starts again.

“Father,” you try to stop him.

“Your occupation is less than fulfilling,” he continues. “Surely, you must know that affection alone cannot support her.”

Taehyung’s mouth is so dry, that he wants to drink the entire ocean. But he lets it sit in discomfort, the truth ringing through his ears like a bomb dropped right in front of him.

“You care for her, son,” he sighs. “I can see that,” your father sets down his brandy, resting his elbows on the armrests of his chair, and latching his fingers together over his lower chest. “So, why don’t we just end this here. Before it gets any deeper than it is.”

You see Taehyung’s heart drop to his stomach. You wish you could go over to him and put it right back in his chest for him, but your father continues to drop it further and further until it eventually breaks in two upon impact with the hard floor.

“I’ll give you an ultimatum, just to be sure you understand,” your father starts. “You go back to your construction work and help your parents with their grocery business. Cut her out of your life. In return, I’ll forget about the dress. About the some 70 thousand dollars you owe me for the destruction of it.”

“Father, please,” you cry, starting to stand. "It was my fault." But your sister grabs your shoulder and pushes you back down onto your seat.

“If you’re smart, you’ll understand how long that would take to accumulate on top of your other finances to return,” he continues. “If you truly care about her, you’d let her find someone who can meet all of her expectations and give her a comfortable future.”

“No,” you start, but Taehyung silences you with his gaze.

He looks to you from your father, feeling the weight of his words. You look at him, seeing how he believes every word your father is saying. You see it ring in his ears, and you know exactly what his next words are going to be.

“Sir, I—” he rasps, defeat flooding his lungs. This is not about the dress. He’d spent the rest of his life paying your father back if it meant he’d let him have you. This is about your future that he knows he can’t support; about the fact that he knows the best he can give you is nowhere near the luxury someone else can. “I just want her to be happy.”

“In this world, love is not enough for that,” Your father stands up, his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. “I’ll show you to the door, son,” your father says.

Taehyung stills, his attention suddenly transferred to the calluses on his palms. He examines them, then the scuffs on the rim of his sleeves. It serves as a reminder, that even the best things he owns cannot match up to the expectations served tonight. He knows you don’t care. He knows you’re better than this. But surely it might become easier with time for you. Your father would find someone genius, with wealth beyond imagination. You will forget about him with time, and your wounds will heal. You’ll have an army of new cars, go to fancy banquets with designer dresses, a penthouse in the city, a smart-suit husband, and beautiful children with loads of worth to their names. He thinks about what he could give you, and it amounts to close to nothing. He’s already given you everything he has, and it’s not enough to keep you safe.

He thinks about this before standing in his seat. Your breath hitches in his throat, watching him give you up, your father’s hand on his back guiding him through the dining room, neither sparing you a glance.

“No,” you cry, standing up. Your sister tries to stop you again, but you shove her hand away.

“Y/n L/n, if you chase that boy, right now will be the last time you step in this house!” your mother slams her hands on the table.

There are words you wish you could say. So many emotions and slander and curse words you wish you could shout and spit in her face.

“I'm happy with him,” is all you can say. "I love him"

“Love is but a word,” your mother rolls her eyes. “You will forget about him in two weeks! That boy cannot support you. He can be replaced.”

“He can’t be,” you counter. Your chest rises with words, an essay might come out of your mouth, but you’re silenced when your father comes back into the room, Taehyung gone from your sight. You silence yourself, knowing you have to make a choice. Without even thinking, your feet move, and you’re brushing past your father, opening the door to you’re home and welcoming the rain.

Your parents wouldn’t have his presence in your life, banishing him from your home after he showed up in the nicest clothes he owned. They forbid him from ever seeing you again, using the price of your stained clothes as a threat if he ever were to lay eyes on you again. But you ignore that, running after him, soaking yourself in the rain once again as you chase him.

You call his name, shouting it into the street. He ignores you, and you feel you’re going crazy the more you call out his name until he finally turns around in quick anger. By this point, you two had already gone well down the street, far away from your posh, gated house. He grabs your cheeks in his palms, pressing his lips harshly against yours. You kiss him with fervor, letting the rain soak your pink dress and braided hair. He does the same, not giving a care in the world about the time he spent trying to make himself look nice for your family. He kisses you as if it would be the last time he would ever feel your lips against his again.

“We can’t do this, Y/n,” he breaks the kiss. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes close as his jaw clenches from his own words.

“Tae,” you sob, cupping his cheek. He covers your hand with his own, squeezing it tight.

“You know we can’t, Y/n,” he shakes his head, looking into your tear-filled eyes. “They will never accept me.”

“I accept you,” you sniffle. “Please don’t leave me, Tae. I accept you.”

“It’s not enough,” he whispers.

“N-No,” you shake your head.

But he already began letting go of your hand, his heel taking a step back.

“T-Tae, no,” you grab his other hand, but he forcibly makes you let go. You watch him turn on his heel, his back replacing his chest.

“Kim Taehyung,” you sob into the open air of the empty street. He does nothing, continuing his path to wherever he is going. “Taehyung!” you scream, but he doesn’t stop.

Your chest rises and falls so quickly, that you feel dizzy. Panic rises into every vein in your body, watching him grow smaller and smaller as he distances himself from you. Never in your life had you felt like it was between life or death between two choices. But god, was it clear which option had been labeled death, and which one was life.

“Marry me,” you shout. You watch his feet stop, both shoes parallel to each other. The panic in your veins slightly subsides at the fact that his distance stopped becoming larger. And then you say it again. “Marry me, Taehyung.”

He turns around, and you begin walking—running—toward him.

“Don’t say that,” he angrily breathes through his nose once you reach him.

“Marry me,” you say it again.

He looks up, despite the rain, his jaw clenched.

“I can’t go through life without you,” you cry, shaking your head. “I can’t do it.”

“You can,” he denies.

“I’m so in love with you,” you laugh, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I love you.”

His hands clench, balled into fists. God, did he love you more than the world itself. More than himself. But he can’t be selfish. He can’t rip you away from your family.

“And what about them?” he nods his head in the direction of your house.

“They can’t replace you,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “No one can replace you.”

“You can’t replace your family, Y/n,” he says. “I’m just a guy. Probably the least qualified to have you,” he laughs through his nose. “I can be replaced. They cannot.”

“They have given me a choice,” you cry. His words hurt. You wish you could make him see just how irreplaceable he is. You cannot replace your family, but you cannot replace him, either. “I already made it the minute I ran out of the house.”

He looks at you, finally locking eyes with yours. You feel the panic fade when he looks at you, and you can’t help but feel that this is right. That you’re making the right choice.

“Y/n,” he starts, shaking his head.

“I chose you a long time ago,” you go on. “The minute I shared my umbrella with you, I chose you. All your boxy smiles and shy laughs. Your job; your family. You. Your heart.”

A tear falls from his eye, his jaw still clenched.

“I can’t give you this life,” he takes your hands from his cheeks, holding them tightly between your soaked bodies. “I-I will never be able to afford law school or a gated mansion in the city. Or a white Chanel dress,” he whispers the last part. “Your life — I can’t rob you of it.”

“You are my life, Tae,” you rub your nose against his. “That stuff doesn’t matter. I want you. Forever.”

He gulps, the look in your eye speaking nothing but the truth. It scares him because of course, he wants the best for you. But he is unsure of himself, of what he can give you other than his heart. But the way you look at him, as if that is truly enough for you, makes his worries subside. You’re choosing him. Between life or death, you took a side, labeling him as life.

He grabs your waist, his arm pulling you into his frame as he sears his lips onto yours. Big, callused palms cup your jaw, holding you against his lips as if you’d try to escape. This time around, the kiss is hard, so needy and loved. You feel loved like you’ve never felt before. All the panic in your heart fades and is replaced with a need to keep him close. You assume he feels the same, his strong arms lifting you around his waist. You laugh against his lips.

“I love you,” you chuckle, almost in disbelief that you could love someone so much. He’s given you something you thought you’d never receive in the world your parents brought you into. You feel fresh with him, like you’ve been born again.

He kisses you again, confirming he feels the same before he sets your feet back on the wetted sidewalk.

“Let’s go,” he takes your hand.

“Where?” you follow him.

“My place,” he looks back at you.

You come up to his side, holding his arm as you walk in the rain. It was just a walk until thunder struck again, and the rain started falling ten times harsher than it was before. It causes you to shriek, and Taehyung only laughs, beginning a sprint while you follow after him.

You two ran to the bus stop, where you kissed some more, before the bus arrived and you shivered in the air conditioning of the large vehicle until it arrived on the other side of the city.

His place became a little bit of yours. You had unofficially moved in until now, as you stumble in his arms into the elevator, making out like horny teens until the number for the 15th floor rang in his ears and he pulled away.

The kisses you press to his neck make his whole body feel weak, his fingers unable to find the key to his apartment amongst the many in the single key ring chain he owns.

“Baby,” he whispers desperately. “S-Slow down, m’ trying to find the key,” he nervously chuckles.

You only run your hands under his soaked shirt, feeling the divots of his abs under your fingertips. Working at a construction company certainly did have more perks than one.

Finally, he seems to have found the key, slipping it forcibly into the lock and turning it until it opened the door to his apartment.

“Come here,” he lifts you up onto his hips, walking you inside his place and pushing you against the door, making it close all the way. He’s sure to lock it after tossing his keys somewhere on the neighboring kitchen counter as he kisses hot trails up your neck. They’re hasty kisses, and so so needy.

“T-Tae,” you grip his hair.

The feeling makes him groan, his hand forming a fist against the wall in pure self-control.

You slide your fingers under his shirt again, except this time, they go all the way up. You force his shirt off his skin, and he lets you take it off as his hands firmly grip your waist. He uses his new grip to support you when he moves you off the wall, his legs guiding you through his apartment as you kiss his neck once more. This time, to leave marks.

You latch onto his sweet spot so tenderly, and he grips your hips hard enough to leave his own marks on your skin.

With one hand, he pushes open the door to his bedroom before landing you on the soft sheets of his bed. You’re overwhelmed with him. The smell of his clean sheets floods your lungs as he traps you underneath his body.

You gasp when he slides his hands up your waist, his fingers coming to your back to find the zipper of your dress.

He waits for your permission, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he plays with the zipper.

“Please, Tae,” you allow him.

He nods against your neck, telling you without words that he’s going to undress you.

You sit up for him, making it easier for him to carry the fabric down your hips. You’re revealed to him in your soaked bra set. Nothing fancy, just nude colors to hide your undergarments beneath your dress.

But despite the plainness, you watch him admire your body, eyes flicking back and forth, trying to remember what you look like underneath the rest of your clothes. You help him, reaching behind you to unhook your bra yourself.

It falls off your shoulders and your skin perks with the cold air mixing with your wet skin.

“Make love to me,” you ask. “Please.”

Taehyung’s mouth goes dry. He’s seen you naked countless times. Fucked you like a rabbit in heat multiple times in just a day. But god, did hearing you ask him to make love to you settle the weight of your proposal from earlier. You really do choose him. And suddenly, he feels like it is the first time he’s ever looked at you naked. Like it was the first time he was going to enter your body.

He felt nervous. So, so nervous. But never so sure of anything else in his life. He knew he wanted you as his forever. But was too selfless to ask you to leave your prosperous life for his. For the longest time, he thought he was living on borrowed time with you. That one day, his first and only love would eventually leave him. His dreams are coming true, and he doesn’t know how to process that other than following your exact command.

“Tae?” you cup his cheek.

He sits on his knees, each one placed next to your thighs as you sit below him.

You watch his throat bob as he swallows, his face leaning into your touch. You bring him back to life, his body finally moving to trap you against the sheets again.

With soft lips, much less needy than the prior ones you two have shared today, he kisses you. He’s gentle as his hips press against yours. You gasp against his lips, the feeling of his clothed cock against your thin underwear stirring things inside of you.

You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing your ankles to secure his embrace over your own.

Taehyung groans, the friction making his desire uncontrollable as he grinds against your core.

“T-Taehyung,” you gasp, head falling back against the sheets. He takes this as an opportunity to trap the skin of your neck with his teeth, gently biting at your flesh in soft confessions of his love.

Your breasts push against his bare skin, feeling overwhelmed when he takes your pert nipple between his fingers, pinching them slightly, just enough to drive you crazy.

It’s all too much, his lips, his fingers, his hips grinding into you, sending waves of pleasure straight into your core. You just want him already. You want to feel full of him.

Your heels start the process, digging at the hem of his jeans as if you could get them off without your hands when they’re so securely fastened by his belt.

“Fuck,” he moans, finally granting your wish as he pushes off of you and unbuckles his belt.

Dark brown eyes admire you, laying on his sheets, giving yourself to him completely. You stare back at him, watching him push his jeans and boxers down to the floor, stepping out of them slowly before he hooks his slender finger under your panties.

“A-Are you sure?” he asks you, hiking your legs up as your underwear slides off your smooth skin.

“Yes,” you nod.

You hear your panties fall on the floor, joining the rest of your clothes, when he slowly spreads your legs, creating a place for himself as he falls on top of you again. Strong arms come under your shoulders, and you slide your hands up his neck, one arm securing him close to you, the other feeling a rapid heartbeat under his chest. You gasp when you feel the head of his cock brush gently against your thigh, so close to your core, but far enough away to make you want to beg for it. You, too, feel like it’s the first time all over again. When he took your virginity and your heart and wrote his name all over your skin.

“You look like you’re having second thoughts,” he shakily breathes above you, a small nervous smile on his lips.

“No,” you laugh shyly through your nose, looking into his warm eyes. You see yourself in them, and you’re reminded of the moment you first saw yourself in them two years ago.

“Are you scared?” he asks, lining himself up with your entrance. You know he isn’t referring to sex, but rather everything that comes after. Of your parents. Of everything you’ll have to sort out. But you know it is nothing that you won’t do alone. The man above you has made it clear that you will never feel alone again.

“A little,” you admit with a small smile.

“Me, too,” he kisses your cheek softly. With a push of his hips, his face falls into your neck, a small groan coming from his lips as you gasp and claw at the skin of his shoulder.

“Oh, T-Tae,” you moan sweetly, tangling your fingers in his hair as he slides out just to slam back into you once more. You feel giddy, a small raspy laugh coming from your throat as he develops a pace. He’s so perfect for you, fits you like a glove in more ways than one. He fills you completely. Over fills your cup with all of his love and giggles and smiles. You can’t get enough, it’s almost comical.

“Faster,” you whine, arching you back into him.

He obeys, grabbing your thighs and pushing them upwards until they’re hooked on his shoulders.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he moans, slamming into you with a newfound passion. Your nails slide down his biceps, some drawing blood from the feeling of his dick ripping you open. It makes you choke beneath him, your head falling back as he fucks you full of his cock. “S-So perfect.”

His nose brushes against your collarbone, using your neck as support when he leans his forehead against it. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your scent before he takes your hips firmly into his palms and holds you against the sheets. Your legs fall naturally, too weak to hold themselves up. But he doesn’t seem to care, instead using his new grip to pull you into his hips, pushing you deeper onto his length than you think you’ve ever gone before. The tip of his head kisses your cervix, and you wince in pleasurable pain when he slides out and slams against it again.

“A-Ah,” you whine, unsure how to feel about this new sensation. The man above you is sure, slowly but harshly pushing into you. His sureness makes you swell, and you feel like he is truly combining his body with your own the deeper he goes.

“Y-You,” he nearly slurs. Your pussy squeezes the head of his cock so justly, he feels his vision going blurry. Everything about you makes him explode. His dick, his mind, his heart. Everything. He can't even finish his sentence.

He goes faster, slipping past your folds with your slick sliding down your thighs and onto his sheets.

“T-Tae,” you panic, your high coming in quickly, setting warmly at the pit of your stomach just seconds away from release. “Tae, I’m gonna cum.”

“F-Fuck, me, too,” he moves faster, harder. His hands touch you, your skin following in flames the further his hands slide up your waist. He groans uncontrollably when you clench around him, your warm heat spreading down your walls as he makes love to you. “Y-Yn,” he whines.

“Say you love me,” you gasp, your voice nearly a whisper as you cream his cock.

“I love you,” he kisses your lips. It’s wet and so disgustingly sweet, you force him to lean himself into your body again, to use it to cum. “I love you so much.”

You watch him shut his eyes tight, his cock twitching inside of you, begging for release as he fights it, probably wanting to last longer for you, to give you a second orgasm before he lets himself cum.

“Cum for me, sweet boy,” you kiss his cheek.

“A-Ah,” he moans, his nose rubbing against yours. You squeak when he slams himself into you, harsh and raw, pushing past you as he fills you with ropes of white cum. “Oh, fuck,” he shakes, fists gathering the fabric of the sheets tightly as he falls into your neck, dick twitching as he cums hotly in your walls. He can’t control the noises, he’s never felt like this before. Like nothing else matters but his future with you.

His dick slips past your cervix, exiting your walls with loads of cum falling out of your abused cunt.

He falls on top of you, the two of you catching your breath with closed eyes and heavy limbs. Until you start laughing.

“What?” he chuckles with you. Your laugh is contagious.

He comes up to look at you, your cheeks red and your pupils shot with love.

“Nothing,” you shake your head. You look at him, cupping his cheek as he switches his gaze between your eyes and your cherry lips. “I-I’m just so happy.”

He laughs at that. Himself full of the same happiness.

“So?” you poke his cheek, raising an eyebrow.

“So?” he raises his own.

“Will you?”

“Will I…?”

“Will you marry me, silly,” you roll your eyes. Although it doesn’t seem nearly as sassy as it is supposed to, not with a giant smile plastered on your face.

“Oh,” he smiles back. “I guess.”

“'You guess'?!” you pinch his shoulder. He winces but laughs as he pulls you into a hug, switching himself on his back with your hips straddling his own. Cum leaks down onto his softening cock, but that is the last thing on either of your minds. His big hands feel the smoothness of your thighs, as yours play with the skin of his chest. If he didn’t know every one of your quirks, he would have taken it as you being silly. But he knows you’re just a little nervous about his answer.

“Yes,” he takes your hand, kissing your knuckles. “Of course I will. But, let me do it properly.”

You physically relax, and pure happiness floods your system.

“We never do things properly,” you remind him, rolling your eyes with a smile again.

“You’re right,” he acknowledges. “I-It might be a while, but at least let me buy you a ring.”

“Okay,” you bite your lip, hiding a closed-lipped smile. It doesn’t work, of course, and the two of you are left a stupid mess as you start your forever together.

___

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2024]

[exhaslo]

I love your stories it feels like I'm actually in it, I mostly like Mafia Miguel x shy reader.... But anyway if you seen Jennifer's body i can see Miguel being Jennifer and the reader being his friend. If you're taking requests may I have Jennifer's body au with Miguel O'Hara x reader? Thank you. 🥰😍 The ending ended up being together can add smut as well to it?

I actually never seen that movie because I am a wimp when it comes to anything horror, except animal horror. Place Jaws in front of me anyway and I'm down. But, I read a quick summary of the movie and I will make some small changes, you know, to sastify our needs haha.

Also, so sorry this was late. I'm still catching up to last month's requests!!

Warning: MINORS DNI, smut, p in v, murder, blood, possession, shower sex, oral (f recieving)

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You knew something was wrong.

You knew that something had changed.

But, what were you supposed to do? Miguel was your best friend and he meant everything. He was your world. The two of you had been together since you were young, to leave him as he was now, would be the worst thing ever.

Rewind a few weeks ago. You and Miguel were just chilling after work at a local bar. Your cheeks were flushed as Miguel kept buying the two of you drinks. It was frustrating how much you loved your best friend. He was just so perfect, both at work and outside.

Hearing a local band start to play, you leaned against Miguel, complaining to him about work. The night was pretty vague after that, but you did recall a fire and Miguel bringing you home. After that he disappeared for the night.

When you awoke the next day, you found Miguel passed out on the couch with what looked like blood on his clothes. You thought nothing of it since Miguel would never do something drastic or crazy like murdering someone. So, you assumed it was ketchup and proceeded to help Miguel out of his clothes.

"What would I do without you?" Miguel mumbled under his breathe as you took his shirt off.

"I don't know, stay in gross clothes?" You said with a chuckle and fixed his hair, "Go wash up. The girls at work will go crazy over this bed hair of yours."

Miguel grunted and playfully used you to stand. You laughed and whined towards him, finishing up for work. The two of you shared a place only to help you with you rent. Miguel was perfectly fine with his own place, he was just helping you.

You first noticed something was off when you arrived at work that same day. Miguel was normal with you, but he had started to get flirty with some of your female coworkers. Miguel never payed any mind to any of them, so it kind of hurt to watch.

As the days went by, you couldn't help but notice some of your coworkers going missing. You tried to ask Miguel about it, but he just shrugged and reassured you that it was probably nothing. Of course, you wanted to believe him...but each of those girls who went missing were ones that Miguel flirted with.

"Miguel?" You called out, entering his lab. Miguel glanced towards you, his smile widening,

"(Y/N), climbed out of the library to see me?" He teased. You plopped yourself over Miguel, sighing heavily,

"Lemme vent for two minutes!" You whined, throwing your arms over his shoulders, "That jerk over in IT had the gal to ask me out on a date, Miggy! After he insulted my 'tiny' brain last week!" You huffed. Miguel felt his eye twitch as he pulled you onto his lap,

"Did you tell him no?" He asked, his tone getting a little harsher. You leaned against Miguel, pouting,

"Of course I said no..." You whimpered and crossed your arms, "He called me a dumb bitch after that...That all I do is..."

"Is what?" Miguel fixed you on his lap, wanting to hear the rest.

"Is...be your fuck toy..." You mumbled lowly.

Miguel felt his lips twitch into a smirk before pulling you into a hug. His warm embrace relaxing you while his mind started to race. Tonight was going to have a bitter taste compared to the rest. Once you were calmed down, Miguel stroked your cheeks,

"Don't pay any mind to him. Go home and order whatever you want with my card. I'll be there late."

"Miggy, you don't-"

"I want too," Miguel rested his forehead against yours, "We're best friends. Let me take care of you," He whispered.

--------

You should have known something was wrong. Miguel always had his barriers and lines, but he was willingly crossing all of them. It felt like you were getting closer to Miguel in a different light, and you weren't sure how to feel about it.

Waiting for Miguel to return home, you started to put away some of the food and clean. He did say that he was going to be late, but it was reaching midnight. It was nerve racking having to wait for him to return home.

"Ugh,"

You gasped upon hearing the door. Rushing over, you saw Miguel leaning over the counter, coughing into the sink. Grabbing a bottle of water, you hurried to Miguel's side and gasped at the sight. He was covered in blood and throwing up something black and icky.

"Miguel?! Are you alright?! Did you get hurt?!" You panicked, fixing his hair and checking his body. Miguel wavered in place and wrapped his arms around you,

"I'm fine...(Y/N)...Don't worry about me," He mumbled into your neck. You frowned, leading him to the bathroom,

"I have to worry about you, who else will?" You told him, setting the water, "What happened?"

"Nothing,"

"Please, Miguel. Let me be here for you," You nearly cried, using a soft wet rag to clean the blood around his face, "Please," You sobbed.

Miguel sighed heavily as he brought you against his chest. His breathing was staggered and heavy against your ear, using you as a sort of comfort. His grip tighten ever so slightly around your waist.

"I fucked up, (Y/N). I fucked up so bad," He whispered. You frowned and fixed his hair, "That night of the fire...I went after the assholes since you almost got hurt. I followed them into this alley and I don't know what the hell they were trying to do but...I ended up getting possessed by...something."

"Possessed?" You questioned. Miguel closed his eyes and nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck,

"I guess I was supposed to be a sacrifice or something? But, I didn't met the criteria and this demon took over. I'm always hungry, (Y/N), always." You felt a sudden chill run down your spine as Miguel's hands crawled up your back, "I can't stop...but when I'm with you, I can feel it relax."

"The demon?" You questioned. Miguel leaned back, fangs poking out of his teeth,

"I won't ever hurt you, (Y/N). I'll always protect you."

"Same, Miggy, but if you're in trouble...Please let me help you," You begged him once more.

Miguel inhaled deeply as you stroked his face once more. He lazily glanced towards you, leaning forward to kiss your lips. You made a small squeak as his hands kept you in place. Miguel grunted as he forced his tongue into your mouth, hungrily.

But not for flesh.

Lifting you up with ease, Miguel pressed you back against the shower wall, ignoring the running water. His groan rumbled against his throat as he started to feel your body lean into his. Miguel was hungry for you. You tasted so sweet against him.

"Miguel," You whispered, breaking the kiss. Miguel rested his forehead against yours, letting the water run down your soaked clothes,

"When I'm with you, I don't hunger for flesh," He whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist, "I want you...maybe...Just maybe, I won't have to suffer like this...if you let me have you."

You furrowed your brows with concern as Miguel spoke. Flesh? Right when you were going to ask him, Miguel captured your lips into another, rougher kiss. His hands pulling your shirt up, exposing your breasts underneath.

"Let me have you, (Y/N)," Miguel begged, kissing and sucking against your neck.

You felt your mind grow hazy as Miguel kept his antics. This was something you had always dreamed of. You tried to reply to Miguel, but moaned instead as he started to nipple and play with your breasts. You needed to ask him more about his demon.

"Mig-" You shivered as he started to rut into you, grunting and moaning with each grind.

"(Y/N), you're mine. Mine, only. I'll eat anyone who dares try to take you away from me," Miguel hissed, taking off your pajama pants.

"Miguel, w-what do you mean b-by eat?" You finally asked. Miguel glanced towards you once more, lifting your hips to his face, "W-Wait-"

You gasped and moaned loudly as Miguel's tongue started to swirl around your clit and pussy. Your hands gripped his hair as you arched your back, crying out in pleasure. Miguel's tongue was lapping up your juices hungrily, holding your hips in place.

You felt your core burn as you slowly moved your hips to Miguel's movements. Trembling as you felt his tongue enter your cunt, you cried out as you felt your orgasm approaching fast. Miguel hummed in response, slowly pulling away from your dripping pussy,

"This taste much better," He said with a groan before going back to suck on your clit.

"Ah~ Miguel~!" You cried out. Miguel watched you contort your face in pleasure, crying out his name,

"(Y/N), if I eat you like this everyday..." Miguel groaned as he lowered you, pressing your face against the shower wall, "Then I won't have to feast on others. I can feel it...the demon enjoying this too."

"M-Miggy," You whimpered softly.

"Let me devour you,"

You gasped and moaned as you felt Miguel shove his cock into you deeply. Tears began to roll down your cheeks from the sudden intrusion as he filled you to the brim. Your pussy convulsed around his dick, sucking him in as you cam heavily.

You tried to grip onto the shower wall, but it was no use. Miguel held your hips, pounding into your poor fleshy cunt. Your moans grew louder with each slap of his hips, feeling pure pleasure. The size of his dick was stretching you out, kissing every part of your pussy.

"(Y/N), you feel so good," Miguel grunted, slapping his balls against your clit with each thrust, "Thank you for this meal, I'll make sure to fill you up too," He said with a grunt.

You cried and moan as you cam against Miguel's dick. Your vision blurring as the shower water poured against your skin. Miguel's grunts and moans turning you on even more. You gasped as Miguel lifted you up, inserting himself again as he kissed you.

"Mhm~ Miguel~!" You cried, wrapping your arms around his neck. Miguel held you close, inhaling your scent as he fucked you stupid,

"I won't ever hurt you, (Y/N). Never," He repeated, watching you cream against his cock once more, "We're best friends, forever, right?"

"Yes! Yes!" You cried, trembling as you felt Miguel fill you with his cum, "Ah~ I-I help...c-control this..."

"Thank you, (Y/N)." Miguel hummed, kissing you in response.

By the time you recovered from the rapid sex session, Miguel went into more detail about what happened with him. You were terrified at first since now you knew that it was Miguel who killed your coworkers, but you also understood.

There was no curing Miguel. At least the two of you found out how to control the demon possessing him. Miguel didn't need to eat flesh anymore, all he needed was you.

"Fuck, more (Y/N), just once more." Miguel grunted as he fucked your pussy from behind, "I can't stand seeing another man get near you."

"Miguel~ Miguel~" You cried into the pillow, gripping the bedsheets under your. Miguel hissed lowly as he gripped your hips tighter, pounding your pussy a bit more harshly,

"Mine! Mine! Mine! If I can't fuck some sense into you, then I'll eat them," He hissed lowly. You cried out, cumming against his dick once more, milking him dry for his cum,

"I understand, Miggy~ Hah~ Hah~ O-Only I can ease your hunger," You whimpered lowly. Miguel kissed your back, giving you soft, gentle thrusts,

"I know, (Y/N). I know, don't mind me," He whispered, apologizing for his tone, "Thank you for the meal...now and forever."

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Like I said, never watched Jennifer's Body, but hopefully this was okay and somewhat...what the movie wanted? Idk man, maybe one day I'll grow a pair and watch some horror movies.

Hope you enjoyed!!

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely! would you consider writing part 2 for reader that is remus' roommate and sirius, where they are freshly together? if you don't feel like it that's fine, have a good day darling

Thanks for requesting honey! Hope this is alright :)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

When Remus opens the door, he banishes his surprise at finding Sirius there almost as quickly as he knows he’s not here to see him. 

“She’s in her room,” Remus says, stepping aside. 

Sirius grins at him, beelining down the hall. He’d been coming around a lot more often lately, and though Remus would like to be annoyed, it’s hard to deny how sweet the two of you are together. After your first meeting, Sirius had begun showing up every weekend, allegedly to hang out with Remus, though you somehow always ended up coming along. Then he started popping in on weekdays, claiming he forgot something at the apartment or was in the area and “thought I may as well stop by to see the two biggest nerds on campus.” According to you, he started showing up at your cafe a short while after that, acting surprised to see you and like he only vaguely recalled Remus mentioning you worked there (after he’d bribed Remus with chocolates for the intel).

You’d only gone on your first date the week before, and Remus had to meet Sirius nearly twenty minutes away from campus afterward to avoid any possibility of running into you as he gushed about the dress you’d picked out (Remus had seen it before you left; it was adorable), how smart you were (Remus knew), the book you were in the middle of (Remus had lent it to you), and did Remus know this and that and that about you? (he did). Sirius spoke like you were the most fascinating creature on the planet, and Remus wasn’t sure he’d ever seen his friend so happy. 

When he got home, you weren’t much better. It had taken you awhile to build up the courage, a few days of Remus catching you smiling at your phone or staring off to the side of your book with a dreamy glaze over your eyes, but finally you’d asked Remus (trying to be casual, as if he didn’t know better) about Sirius. It had started with questions about what kind of music he preferred, then what he’d been like when they’d been in school together, and soon Remus was telling you everything he could recall from the moment he met Sirius when they were eleven, surprised and a bit endeared by how eager you were for every story. 

The day after that, he’d started getting texts from James asking about the girl that had his best friend so smitten (“Moons, I’m telling you,” James had said, “I keep walking into his room to find him texting with his feet kicking behind him. It’s alarming”). It had begun to feel like all Remus did lately was relay information about you and Sirius to anyone who asked. Frankly, he felt lucky to have a first-row seat to the show, endlessly amused to watch as two of the most self-assured people he knew devolved into giggling fools in the other’s presence. 

Now, he can hear you squeal as Sirius bursts into your room, followed by some scuffling sounds, and then Sirius drags your blanket-wrapped form across the floor and out into the living room by your ankle. You curse and twist about, grinning with the sort of animation Remus hadn’t known you possessed until you’d met Sirius. 

“Alright,” Remus says in his bored, I’m-so-done-with-your-lovebird-shit voice (he’s had plenty of time to practice it in these last few weeks), “unhand my roommate, Sirius.” 

Sirius drops your foot, and you sit up, shaking your head in entirely faked exasperation as you straighten your rumpled hair. 

“Moony, do you know she’s been dodging my calls for days?”

Remus quirks a brow. “I heard you on the phone last night.” 

“Some bullshit about an exam,” Sirius continues as though he hasn’t spoken. “Can you believe it? You know me, I won’t stand for this sort of treatment.”

“I know you’re needy, Black,” you say, standing with the grace of a monarch despite your polka-dot pajamas and the blanket wrapped around your shoulders and going to sit on the couch, “but I can only afford to feed your ego every so often when my strictest professor’s exam is coming up.” 

Remus hums in recognition. “That’s tomorrow morning, isn’t it?”

You nod, brushing a greasy piece of hair behind your ear self-consciously, and Remus watches you sympathetically. He’s not sure how much you’ve let Sirius know, but it’s hard to live in such close proximity to someone and not pick up on their moods. You’ve been horrendously stressed about this exam all week. The coffee maker has been running nearly non-stop, the shower running not at all, and Remus has seen light coming from under your door at all hours of the night. 

“Maybe the two of you should go to a park or something,” he suggests gently. “Enjoy the nice weather, relax for a while.” 

You look anxious at the prospect of abandoning your textbooks for a few hours, but Sirius is assessing you, putting the pieces together of what this week has done to you. “Good idea, Moons,” he says, and Remus doubts he has to fake any of the enthusiasm in his voice. “What do you think, lovely girl, want to go on a little adventure?”

You hesitate, but in the end time with Sirius is too tempting to pass up. “Let me just get dressed.”

“Ugh,” Sirius complains. “If you have to.” 

A few minutes later Remus is watching you both warmly, feeling oddly like someone’s dad, though he’s not sure whose. He can’t help but smile as Sirius fawns over you, telling you how pretty you look and insisting upon tying your shoes for you (“Gorgeous thing like you, doing things for yourself? Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart. Give me a few weeks, and you won’t remember how to tie your shoes or open your own door.”) before opening the front door gallantly. You’re all coy looks and feigned annoyance at his flirtation, but there’s more color in your complexion than Remus has seen all week, and you lean into Sirius when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. It’s all very sickeningly sweet. 

“Have fun,” Remus says, waving you out the door. “And Pads.”

Sirius looks back, gray eyes practically sparkling. “Yeah?”

“She’s got an exam in the morning. Don’t get her home too late.”

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + one

authors note: hi! this is a complete rework from another roman story i wrote but needed to redo. it's a mafia au, so understandably super dark. a 'blink and you'll miss it' bit of a beauty and the beast retelling. not meant to be anything groundbreaking or unlike most mafia stories.

i've found that my writing is best when 2nd person pov, so i wanted to challenge myself to make this third person to better my writing, thus, bear with me, ya'll. :)

if any cw/tw's are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: language, violence against women, mention of parental death, vague hinting at past sexual trauma

song inspo: 'looking through your eyes' by leann rimes

words: 5.2k

Through trial and error, mostly error, a lot of error, Solana Miller has learned and mastered most of the things that upset her father. 

Speaking out of turn. Meals not being ready on time. The house being a “mess.” The actual list is a living breathing thing that grows with each day and every unfortunate occurrence, but always at the very top of this list is lack of punctuality. 

There’s nothing Xavier Miller hates more than lateness. 

And that’s exactly what she is. 

Solana nearly faceplants into the three steps leading into the house with how fast she’s running. Her shaking hand and sweaty palm make it take longer than usual to unlock the front door, and the force in which she slams it shut behind her should be enough to knock the nearby family photo off the wall.

The photo that she is not included in, of course. 

She’s brushing off invisible lent as she rushes into her father’s office. “I’m sorry, there was an—” Her panting mouth snaps shut when she reaches the doorway, hand holding onto the frame of the door. “—accident.”

The minute Solana saw the flashing police lights and array of red brake lights was the moment she realized that she was in for a brutal punishment. She’d started to mentally prepare for such, trying to recall if she’s restocked the first aid kit kept in her bathroom and frequently retrieved. But, it’s not until she’s standing in the doorway of her father’s office, an office that’s filled with not only him and her brother, Wes, but other men that she realizes the ferocity of this punishment may be unlike any she’s received in some time.

Not only is she late, but she’s now interrupted some sort of meeting that he wanted her present for. 

Xavier’s eyes land on Solana with faux happiness that conceals flames she recognizes as a precursor for what’s to come. Naturally, like he’s not imagining all the cruel ways he can hurt her, in a way that only he can do, he slaps on a tight smile. “Ahh, there she is.”

Solana also realizes how almost everyone’s gaze is on her, and that doesn't make for a good response because she finds herself asking, “what’s going o—”

Xavier’s smile is very much unlike the ice in his voice. “Silence, child.” 

The sharpness of his command evokes an immediate response. Her shoulders slump and head drops. The displeasure just keeps growing. Solana can already feel the bruises forming, the sting of the ice on her busted lip. 

One of the men, an oversized, middle aged white man with a sharp gaze speaks. “I take it, this is your daughter?”

“It is,” her father confirms. If she didn’t know any better, Solana could almost swear she hears a hint of proudness. “Please forgive her lateness. She knows the importance of obedience.”

And the repercussions of obedience. Repercussions Solana knows await her once this meeting ends.

“I hope she does.” The same white man clears his throat. Solana hears the ruffling of papers but refuses to look up. Her gaze is better served focused on the ground, her silence and submissiveness certainly music to her father’s ears. “We received the requested medical report, and it appears you weren’t lying, Miller. The girl is still a virgin.”

That….that is the moment where it takes all willpower for Solana’s head not to snap up, eyes wide with both confusion and partial recognition. She’d wondered why her father asked her to schedule her yearly check-up with her GYN when she wasn’t due for another couple of months but knew better than to question, so she went ahead and did it. 

And she wondered why this checkup was so….different. Labs were taken, more questions asked, and a vaginal exam that had her leaving more uncomfortable than she’d ever been with Dr. Boyd. Not that seeing the woman was ever an enjoyable time in the first place. She's cold, stoic, an obvious doctor on the mafia payroll, but she's still a woman. 

Solana can't have a male GYN. She can't have a male doctor in any sort of specialty.

The confusion, however, comes into play at this man’s words.

“The girl is still a virgin.” 

That couldn’t be farthest from the truth.

“Her blood work also indicates she should have no problems conceiving a child.”

Emotions overpower reason as Solana breaks her silence and lifts her head. “What?” One furious glance from Xavier, and immediately, she knows that she’s fucked up.

She also realizes that she’s failed to notice one very important member whose sheer size takes up almost the entirety of her father’s onyx black loveseat.

Solana has heard the name Roman Reigns more times than she can keep track of over the years. It’s inescapable to live in this life and not know of the brutal ruler of the Bloodline, one of the most notorious mafia bosses in the underworld. But never in any of her 28 years has she seen him in person. Maybe somewhat in the same vicinity but never in close proximity, not like now where he’s sitting mere feet away from her.

He’s reclined back into the seat, thick legs spread, a blank expression on his handsome, bearded face. His features are sharp and predatory, yet there’s something about his eyes, a beautiful, light shade of brown that’s such a contrast to the cold blooded killer he is. Bulging, rippling muscles seem to be at battle with the plain black shirt he wears, and she notices his silky black hair is pulled back into a surprisingly neat bun of sorts. 

Solana knows that she shouldn't stare, but it’s hard not to. The man is objectively beautiful. He’s also staring directly at her. 

Panicked, her head drops down, eyes returning to continue counting the amount of beige swirls in her father’s persian rug. 

“Shut up…. ”Wes speaks from the other side of the room. He’s leaned up against the column near the bookshelf, lazily spinning around the pocketknife he never goes anywhere without. 

It’s the same knife that’s cut into her skin at least more than a couple of times over the years, drawing various amounts of blood depending on the extent of his anger.

Wes is always angry.

“I’m a man of my word, Mr. Heyman.” Solana doesn’t even need to be looking up to know her father has his hand over his chest, that faux sense of honor painting his harsh features. “I would never disrespect the Tribal Chief by wasting his time.” Solana’s throat goes tight. “My daughter is a worthy candidate.”

Candidate. Heir. Virgin.

It doesn’t take long with these major clues for Solana to piece together what they’re discussing, why her presence was required when never before has her father wanted her anywhere near one of his meetings.

Arranged marriage.

They’re discussing a possible arranged marriage between Solana and Roman Reigns. 

Her fingers flex and suddenly start to rub nervously against the soft material of her dress. Any appetite she had prior to entering the home is no longer present, vacated, replaced by a thick, heaping layer of anxiety.

Arranged marriages are far too common in this life. There’s not a week that’s gone by since she became of age that she doesn't hear about some union between two members of rivaling or partnering families. It's just how these things are done.

However, at 28, much past the typical timeline that daughters are married off, she’d accepted that that was not her fate. And she was okay with that, more than okay. Is okay with that.

Solana has a……complicated relationship with men, anyway. With people in general, but especially men.

The thought of her being paired off to Roman is so bad that it’s almost laughable. Their compatibility is in the negative range. He would never give her a second look, not even a first. A man like him needs someone who matches his prowess. She isn’t even on the radar.

And yet…..

And yet her father has somehow garnered interest, provided his counsel with her medical information “proving” her worthiness, and secured a meeting.

Circling back around to the medical report has her chest feeling tight and heavy. Lies. Her father has clearly paid off Dr. Boyd to write up whatever he believed needed to be said to increase his chances of locking in this deal.

She doesn’t know about the fertility portion, never really bothering or concerning herself with that part of her health. Someone has to have to have sex to conceive a child, and as far as Solana is concerned, that's never going to happen.

Not....not again.

But the virgin part is most definitely a lie. The physical exam certainly would have confirmed that.

And yet, the exact opposite was stated. 

Chills instantly move down her spine. Her father is perpetuating a fraud. Even more, he’s perpetuating fraud to a man who’s rumored to have a body count in the thousands. The same man he’s trying to pawn her off to.

This….this is not good.

It’s not good at all.

—----------

“She’s weak.”

That’s the first thing to leave Roman's mouth since they entered the Miller Manor, and it’s not announced until they're back in the SUV and on their way back to his estate.

Checking emails and clearing notifications that piled during the time his phone was tucked away, he continues. “Too young. Has no backbone. It’s embarrassing.” Roman’s tone, much like everything else about that pointless meeting, reeks of boredom. 

“Her father clearly has her on a tight leash,” Rikishi adds. He brings the handkerchief he keeps in his shirt pocket and swipes it across his forehead, dapping up the light sheen of sweat that’s already formed in the walk from the house to the SUV. “But, a very pretty girl.”

Roman cannot and will not disagree on that. She’s undeniably beautiful, but everything else about her is unappealing. And saying Miller has her on a tight leash is an understatement. She’s terrified of him. The brother too,  and Roman would take a solid guess that one of the two is responsible for the slightly faded but still visible bruise he noticed on Solana’s upper forearm. 

There’s some conflicted emotion present at that piece of information, though he mostly leans in one direction.

Women and children should be off limits. Specifically, women and children who aren’t already indoctrinated into the life to the point of training. Roman knows plenty of kids who completed their first kill while still in single digits and women who fight better than some of his men. For them, it’s free game. They’ve proven they can handle themselves.

Solana doesn’t fall in any of those categories, and he’d be shocked if she even knows how to hold a gun.

Thus, in his mind, she’s off-limits.

Nonetheless, his family is full of fighters, regardless of sex.

So there's the other part of him that can't understand her passivity, that believes she's just weak. 

The thought process generates a list of other, much more adequate options. “What about Belair?”

“Engaged to be married in the Montez family.” Roman rolls his eyes. That fucker is an irritating prick. Seems like a desperate match. 

“Cargill?”

“She….” It’s slightly comical for Roman, watching the older man work his hardest to explain what was inarguably a disrespectful rejection. “---is not interested.” 

A dark chuckle leaves his throat. “She said fuck off, didn’t she?”

“More or less.” 

Roman smiles. He would expect nothing less. Cargill is a beast of a woman, a sure fun time in the sheets if she would ever remove the stick from up her ass.

“If I may, my Tribal Chief….” When Roman remains quiet, he takes that as his cue to continue. “The girl may be young and docile, but that also makes her moldable. She will do whatever you want with no protest. Is that not a possible advantage?” Roman continues to look out the window, allowing Paul to add on, “and she will have no problem giving you an heir, which is inarguably the most important thing at this point in your life.”

“He brings up a good point, uce,” Rikishi chimes. “With your temper, it’s probably best for you to take a wife who is more passive than dominant.”

Logically, it makes sense, but the idea of a stuttering, stammering wife who can’t even maintain eye contact for more than a minute doesn’t appeal to him in the slightest. 

“And as far as age, she’s closer to 30 than anything. You go for any older, and you might run into fertility struggles. This is the perfect age.” Rikishi’s crooked smile is followed by a small chuckle. “You ain’t so young yourself anymore, uce. Gotta have an even balance.”

There’s a difference between a balance and a child. Roman is prepared to say as such when Jimmy speaks, deciding to add his two cents from the passenger's seat.

“Look, Big Dog. All you need is for her to give you a kid, and you heard Paul. She can do that. Ain’t no need in making this bigger than what it is.” His insertion and contribution to the conversation ends up being valid. Granted, if he was anyone else, the delivery would have resulted in a maiming. But, this is Jimmy. He’s like a brother to Roman. Him and Jey. Hence their privilege with speaking so bluntly. “Shit, and did you see that body? Mannn, I’d never pull out of that.”

Also a valid point. Her dress was fitted around the chest area, accentuating heavy breast he could most definitely see himself palming as he fucked her from behind. The rest of the dress wasn’t as contoured, but it flowed against her shape when she walked in, and he could make out the curves he was certain she preferred to keep hidden. It’d been a while since he’d taken a woman to bed with a body like hers, a preference, but also not as easy to find in his world of fit assassins and killers who spend more time in the gym than anywhere else.

His latest set of women were on the slimmer side, moderate thickness, nothing like this girl.

But sexual desirability aside, her passivity indicates she’d be….that kind of woman. The woman who expects words of affirmation and quality time. A “gentle” kind of woman who’d want him to be sweet and patient in the bedroom, to make love to her. Roman is neither and none of those things.

He fucks, and he fucks hard. Subsequently, his wife should be cut from the same cloth. 

“Just….think about it, my Tribal Chief, hmmm?” Paul’s voice is tentative, laced with that tone that indicates he believes the decision should be made sooner rather than later. Granted, he values his life and standing in the bloodline, so he opts to not implement time constraints. 

A wise decision. 

“The scars.” Roman counted eight of them total, the one most pronounced on her face, slashing across her right eye and into the top of her cheek. The type of scar that’s embedded into the skin. And the soul. With a few of his own, it’s one of the first things he noticed. “What’s the story there?”

Paul quickly pulls out the portfolio from his briefcase, hurriedly flipping through papers when he settles on the one he’s looking for. “Ahhh….” Paul clears his throat, a telltale sign that’s he uncomfortable with what he’s about to say. “2005. It was a hit. Her mother was killed in the attack. Knifing. Solana survived, clearly.”

Roman turns his attention from the passing cars to look at his Wise Man. For the first time since this whole interview process began, Roman is intrigued. “She was there?” Paul confirms as such and says something else, but Roman’s attention is out the window again, haphazardly watching the flow of traffic, assimilating and accommodating this new piece of information. 

This may be the one and only thing he can understand about this girl. Something…something he can relate to. 

Survival

One doesn’t go through something like that without coming out on top or letting it bury you. Unlike him, she’d clearly gone the latter route. Granted, just making it out alive, physically, he knows better than anyone, is a feat in and of itself.

“Give me her file.”

—-------------

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry I didn’t write yesterday. It was…..a day.

I’m not even sure where to begin, because I’m not sure what to even feel at this moment to be honest. Dad is trying to marry me off to a mafia head, which would be fine, except….except that head is Roman Reigns. He’s….he’s a monster, mama. Has no soul. Not that many men in this life do, but there’s something about him that’s even more terrifying than the others. To make matters worse, dad had Dr. Boyd lie in my medical report. She wrote that I’m still a virgin, I guess something about my hymen still being intact. Mama, that’s a lie. There’s no way that’s possible. 

Not.....with what they did to me.

I’m trying hard not to panic, because there’s no way Roman would go for me. He’s a monster, yes, but even Lucifer was God’s most beautiful angel. He’s a very handsome man. He would never want someone like me.

I don’t know any man who would.

“Solana.”

Solana quickly snaps her journal closed, using the pen in her hand to mark her spot. She’s met with the gentle smile of 73–year–old Meryl Jensen, a widow who’s worked at this library for almost forty years.

Solana still remembers the first day she met Mrs. Jensen. She was 6-years-old, and her mom was looking for a certain book she’d read about in the newspaper. A book that she hoped would further and better her English speaking skills. A native of Mexico, Nina Miller taught herself English by immersing herself into American literature, film, and music. 

Similarly, Nina taught her Solana Spanish by immersing her daughter in Spanish literature, film, and music. A secret among the two as an always hostile, paranoid Xavier “banned” Nina from teaching their daughter a language he couldn’t understand.

If he couldn’t control it, it was a no-go.

But it was when Mrs. Jensen was helping Nina locate her book, Solana noticed another book sitting near a kids display. Goodnight Moon.

If Solana tries hard enough, she can still remember the warm smile her mother gave her as she allowed her to check out the book, her very first "purchase" from the library. It started a love of books, aided by Mrs. Jensen who always provided appropriate recommendations to Solana and her mom.

Not that Solana tries to think too much about memories with her mother. They’re almost always ruined and replaced with the sounds of the butcher knife slicing into her mother’s body as Nina used the last of her strength to shield and protect her daughter from the violent assault that would end up taking her life.

Solana’s smile, however, does dim and her stomach drops when she realizes that Ms. Jensen isn’t alone. 

“This girl is always writing, I swear.” It’s only when the older woman refers to her book that Solana quickly closes up her journal, shoving it to the side.

Her eyes never leave Roman though.

And his certainly aren’t leaving her, even as Mrs. Jensen places a hand on his arm, laughing at her own joke.

Mrs. Jensen then squints her eyes and leans over the counter. “Child, did you fall again?” It takes a second for recognition to dawn. She’s then hit with the memory of her father backhanding her across the room, the force sending her to the floor after the dispersion of yesterday’s meeting. A truly pale punishment compared to some of his prior assaults. “My goodness.” Mrs. Meryl laughs, shaking her head. “An everyday klutz I tell you. I can’t think of one day she hasn’t come in here without some kind of mark from her clumsiness.”

Roman’s staring directly at Solana while acknowledging the older woman’s casual observation. “Interesting.” He then darts his eyes, offering a smile that, if one didn’t know any better, could be considered genuine. But Solana does know better. She knows much better. “Could you give us a moment?”

Of course, Mrs. Jensen obliges, saying something about hushing up some boisterous high school students on the first level before it’s just Solana and Roman. 

She has a million and one questions, starting with why the hell Roman Reigns is at her job. Whatever the reason, it can’t be good. A man like him only brings about chaos and mayhem.

And death.

Swallowing and powering through the onslaught of anxiety, she starts off in an unsurprisingly soft voice, “if you’re looking for my father, he’s—”

“If I wanted your father, I would be speaking to him right now.” Roman’s interruption is dangerously calm, but Solana detects a hint of irritation. “You’re the one I want.”

Oh.

What in the world this man could want with Solana is beyond her. To make matters worse, Solana catches his gaze on her bruised cheek again. Makeup could only do much, but she's really starting to wish she went for heavier coverage. She drops her head, focusing on the denim of her jeans to avoid his burning stare. “I—umm.”

Solana’s body registers before her head does that Roman is lifting his hand to touch her. She responds accordingly, jumping back and away from the interaction. He chuckles, darkly, lowering his hand to his side. “That was some fall.”

Solana unconsciously brings her hand to hover over her cheek. “I’m—clumsy.”

“No, you’re not.” It takes a second for Solana to register his blunt comment and another for her to digest that he’s calling her bluff. “But, you are a terrible liar.”

He’s not wrong on either note, but she’s unsure just how to respond. “What—what do you want from me?”

Roman straightens up, and just the sheer size of him makes her swallow in fear. He’s a beast of a man, more beast though than anything else. “To make sure you understand what this is. It’s obvious Miller didn’t inform you about the meeting, and I won’t go into anything with anyone unless they’re fully aware of what they’re signing up for.”

If he’s waiting for Solana to acknowledge the first part of his reason for showing up at her job, he does a poor job waiting because he goes straight into his disclaimer. 

“I have no desire to be with you or any other woman for anything more than a sexual release. We’ll ensure my bloodline continues, but that’s it. Financially, you’ll want for nothing, and I can assure you, your clumsiness won’t be an issue. But, I will never love you, never see you as anything more than a business arrangement because that’s what you are.” He’s studying her facial expressions, reading all of the emotions oscillating around. “Do you understand?”

There’s a couple of different thoughts racing through her mind at this moment, but the dominant thought is wondering just what in the hell would possess someone like him to ever even consider someone like her? He is the definition of brute strength in all areas. She is beyond broken. There can’t be anything appealing about that.

But then….maybe there is. Roman knows she will not cause him any trouble, can recognize this brokenness and sees it as an easy way to get what he needs while still having the freedom to do whatever, and whoever he wants. It’s a bit of a win-win. 

And as far as the love aspect…..

Solana learned a long time ago that all of the fairytales lied. There is no prince that rides in and saves the damsel in distress. No one to swoop in and save you from the monster. It’s either killed or be killed, and her death already occurred on August 7th, 2005.

As ironic and fucked up as it is, Solana recognizes this is the best deal she’ll ever get in her life. 

With quite literally nothing to lose, she acknowledges him.

“I understand.”

—---------

The minute Solana steps into the house, she’s immediately shoved into the freshly painted wall behind her. A strong hand is on her throat, restricting her breathing.

“What did you say to him!”

Fingers foolishly grasping at the hand suffocating her, Solana tries to speak even with knowing that it’s impossible when she can’t even breathe. This only pisses her brother off even more. He bangs her head into the wall, causing the nearby pictures to shake. “Answer me, you stupid bitch!”

“Let her go, Wes.”

Xavier’s command is followed with a delayed acquiescence. Solana falls to the floor, coughing and gasping violently. She brings her hand to the back of her head to check for any blood, but her gaze is soon on the black leather shoes her blurred version is able to make out.

Solana cries out when her father grips her hair, yanking her head back and forcing her to look at him.

“We know Reigns came to see you at your job today.”

At some point in her life, Solana would be stunned and partially disturbed this, by how her father is aware of this piece of information.  But, this is no longer that time in her life. That time when she was naive enough to think that she could ever escape this life, ever leave and never look back.

She’d tried once. Foolishly. And it landed her in the hospital for two weeks. 

Solana can still remember her father’s dry, cracked lips pressing an insincere kiss against her temple as he said in the calmest yet coldest voice. “You ever try to leave this place again, and I’ll make sure to finish the job.” 

That was the last time she ever fooled herself into believing better waited for her.

“Now, what did you say to him?”

“I—I—nothing.” It’s not a lie but not the entire truth. She didn’t say anything that should have pissed him off. Then again, with a man as temperamental as Roman, anything and everyone could piss him off. Look at her dad and brother. “What did he—”

A phone ringing possibly saves, or just delays, the next set of hits. And even better, it’s Xavier’s phone.

He pulls it out of the back pocket of his pants, eyes lighting up. With a mischievous smile, he taps the screen twice, answering, “my Tribal Chief.” Solana’s eyes widen. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Cut the bullshit, Miller.” Roman’s deep, baritone voice is powerful and authoritative, even when he’s not even in the room. “You know why I’m calling.” And before her father can further upset him, Roman jumps straight to the point. “We have a deal.”

It’s been some time since Solana has been so thoroughly surprised by something she’s heard that she briefly loses awareness of where she is. But this….this is one of those moments. 

He can’t…..he can’t have said what she thinks he just said. Her acknowledging understanding was just a formality. She didn’t think he was actually considering marrying her.

Xavier’s smile is broad, signs of a man who just got exactly what he wanted. “Wonderful. We shall start planning.”

“Two weeks. The wedding will be two weeks from today.”

The tightening in her chest has returned. Solana is certain she’s about to start hyperventilating. This….this can’t be happening. 

Xavier and Wes share a look as he stammers with a response. “Uhh, yes, of course—whatever you wa—”

“Oh, and Miller?”

Irritation flashes in Xavier’s eyes, but he shoves it back for a polite acknowledgment. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“You or your boy lay a single fucking finger on her again, and I’ll gut you both where there’s nothing left to bury.”

Solana is almost certain there’s not a single one of them that’s not taken back by Roman’s icy warning. However, she swallows when her father’s fire gaze lands on her. She knows immediately she’s in for a matching bruise on the other side of her face.

Xavier laughs quietly. “That girl has always been so clumsy. I assure you—”

“One.”

Xavier is understandably confused by Roman’s single-word response. “Pardon?”

“Everyone gets one chance to lie to me. You’ve just used yours.” For the briefest hint of a second, Solana believes she sees fear flash in her father’s eyes. “Consider yourself warned.”

The phone disconnects. 

Silence settles over the three of them, but it doesn’t last. 

“I–I don’t understand.” Solana finds her voice, unable to stay quiet in a moment that’s completely just changed the course of her life. “I–I can’t marry Roman.”

For a lot of reasons. Many reasons that she can list out and defend if given the chance.

Solana is consumed by her thoughts and pending mental breakdown, so much so that she misses when her brother stalks across the room. He throws her back up against the wall, and the minute her eyes land on the silver, she’s frozen in place.

His grin is predatory and satisfactory as he murmurs, floating the knife in front of her. “It seems you’ve finally made your existence have some type of purpose.” Solana has to close her eyes. Just seeing knives sometimes brings her back to that night, and having one pressed against her….

Wes knows exactly how agonizing that is to her, hence his favorite method of torture. 

Swallowing, she weakly protests, “you—you told them I’m a virgin.”

That’s a major reason why. Her father has made her out to be some chaste, pure woman when she’s anything but. And to lie to Roman, of all people, about something like that.

They’ve more or less signed her death decree.

“No. Dr. Boyd’s medical reports confirmed you’re still untouched, and you’ll go along with it for however long is necessary.” Xavier’s rebuttal is smooth and to the point, like he doesn’t see the issue with his actions.

He never does. 

“Don’t you understand?” Wes lazily slides the knife up and down her skin, smiling at the terror in her face. It’s his greatest motivation, witnessing the extent of her fear toward him. “We’d let Reigns and his entire bloodline fuck you if that’s what it took to get what we want.”

Solana has no shock value at his words. Wes stopped caring anything for her the minute she got their mother killed, and it’s not as if she can entirely blame him. 

Nina would still be alive if not for Solana. It’s something she accepted ages ago, an undeniable truth. 

However, she does have to ask in a pained voice, “what do you want?”

Xavier supplies, taking a hit of his cigar she didn’t realize he was holding this whole time. “We want and will have control of the bloodline.”

If not for her current situation, she’d laugh. Control of the bloodline. That’s….that’s not even a dream. That’s a delusion. Still, there’s an undertone to his voice and words that alarm her. In a quiet voice, she protests. “That’s—that’s impossible.”

Solana hisses as Wes presses the knife deeper into her throat, nicking her skin and drawing blood. “No, it isn’t, not anymore. Because we have a way in.”

And it’s with widened eyes and a constricted throat that Solana finally understands what’s happening, what they plan to have happen. 

Her voice is barely above a whisper. “No….”

Xavier answers with a cruel, wicked smile. “You’re going to kill Roman Reigns for us.”

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

June 15th

~*~

1. Hi! Long time no see. Need help with finding two fics:

A. The AU where wwx and lwj can do some cultivation technique that combines them into one huge cultivator. There are like three or four levels and lwj is hesitant about the last level because the other person can see what you desire most in the world and he was afraid for wwx to see. I recall them practicing this technique in private while studying together and then doing it in front of lqr’s class.

B. Lxc has his own pediatric office and his nurse is on leave because she’s pregnant (i think it’s mianmian or wq) and they recommend wwx. Wwx is hired as a nurse under lxc. During the story, he gets with lwj and they all find out wwx took the blame and went to jail for something jc did and lxc was upset because of how wwx portrayed himself to him when he was really innocent. I remember wwx had some heart problem and had an episode in the office. I remember xue yang was also in this fic as an abuser to his wife and kid

Thanks for all your help in advance! @jikcf

1A)

FOUND? ❤️ Gentians in bloom by teawater (M, 251k, WangXian, XiQing, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Political Marriage, Dysfunctional Family, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, LQR bashing (not really), POV Multiple, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Eventual Happy Ending, BAMF WWX, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, madam yu bashing (again not completely), MXY Deserves Better)

1B)

FOUND? Nursery Rhymes by manaika (M, 96k, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Inexperienced WWX, Experienced LWJ, Reconciliation, Budding Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Unreliable Narrator, Medical Inaccuracies, Slow Burn, Past Character Death, Childhood Trauma, Found Family, Past Injury, Nurse! WWX, Doctor! LXC, Teacher! LWJ, Character With A Heart Condition (Major), Past Incarceration (Major Character), Underage Character With Leukemia (Minor))

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2. Hi, I'm looking for a modern au that starts with everyone finding out that WWX had been wrongly accused of stealing and selling the Lans' secrets to their competitor. He lives in a separate flat now and has a found family with XY and WQ. But, LWJ goes to him when the news comes cuz he's some sort of cyber security expert, ig. Also, JYL is in a wheelchair as she tries to get evidence to prove WWX's innocence and gets injured in the process @thatindiangirllll

FOUND? Visitations by Vir_Abelasan (M, 18k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX & LWJ, WIP, Modern, Corporate Espionage, Post-Divorce, Reconciliation, Father-Son Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Everyone is kinda sad and needs a hug in this, But hey they get better I promise, Found Family, Custody Arrangements, Not a revenge fic, Past Abuse)

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3. Hiiii it's been a while and I'm happy to inform some of may fav fic I found here. So I remember someone asked about this but I can' t find it it's about lwj leaving lan sect and storing money little by little and by the end lxc ask for bunnies because all of lwj bunny vanished from gusu( courtesy of nhs) I hope you can help me thank you!!!!

FOUND? 🔒 Unpack Your Heart by Terri Botta (Isilwath) (T, 22k, wangxian, Romance, Everybody Lives, Canon Divergence, LWJ Has Feelings, Protective LWJ, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, Burial Mounds Ensemble as Family, Wangxian in Love, YLLZ WWX, Lan Clan Elders are Assholes, Minor Transgender Character, Qiongqi Path Divergence, LWJ loves his bunnies)

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4. Hello! In search of a fic I read recently but can't seem to find again! It was definitely on ao3. It was a canon-era fic where for some reason Wangji was cranky with Xichen and so Wangji purposefully misbrewed some of Xichen's favorite tea and gave him the stank eye while he poured. I think it was in Cloud Recesses Study arc, so it was teenJi being sassy in his polite snubbing kind of way.

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5. Hi, hope your well! Im desperately trying to find a fic. So I vaguely remember it starting with lwj and wwx post cannon, wwx passes away, and he makes a ritual/ way for lan wangji to go to an alternate universe where he’s still alive. Lan wangji wakes up in the body of his younger self (it’s implied the original version died because he was trained too hard I think) his father is still alive and is abusive. I remember Wei wuxian and lan wangji meet because they go to visit the Yiling Wei sect. Eventually lan wangji volunteers to go to what I think was their equivalent of the lan lectures which no longer exist in this universe because the lan are kinda sorta evil ish under his abusive father’s rule. I remember that eventually they plan to fight back against the lans and lan wangji ends up getting captured by his father and whipped/tortured. It has a happy ending where lwj tells Wei ying about his original time line etc. I have been trying to find this one forever! Please help me! @808bisexualbitch

FOUND! 🔒 Song Unwritten by Kytrin & ShotsOfSunshine (E, 94k, WangXian, Temporary Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts, cql meets mdzs, Transmigration, Parallel Universes, YLLZ WWX, Yílíng Wèi Sect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, References to Depression)

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6. Hi! For ficfinder I'm looking for a fic which is a genderbend modern au where Wei Ying is dared to give Lan Zhan a lapdance. Halfway through he feels really bad as she realises that Lan Zhan is the butt of the joke and she stops and later tries to apologise and befriend Lan Zhan

FOUND? make me whole, make me new by occultings (microcomets) (E, 24k, WangXian, F/F, Rule 63, Cisswap, Modern, College/University, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Misunderstandings, (briefly), Pining, Jealousy, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Light Humiliation, Bathing/Washing, Bath Sex, as is the wangxian way, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbian Sex, Getting Together, First Time, gentle on the comphet for this one, there are dubcon vibes for the lap dance but it's not actually dubcon, some uhauling via cats)

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7. For the next fic finder - I've been desperately trying to relocate a fic where everyone (including the juniors) all sort of think WangXian are in an abusive relationship. It's set post canon. I believe its left ambiguous or is implied that everyone is just sort of misinterpreting what's going on. One scene in particular I think has Lan Jingyi spying on WX while they're having sex in the jingshi? TIA 💕

FOUND? We Covet What We See by Dangereuse (E, 6k, WangXian, OneSided LJY/WWX, Wangxian's Canonical Kinks, Consent Play, Voyeurism, Bondage, Overstimulation, Possessive LWJ, Breeding Kink, Dark LWJ, Perv LJY, LWJ's Fucked Up Family Backstory, Biting, Unreliable Narrator, Cloud Recesses can be Problematic, Rimming, oversensitization, POV LJY, LWJ's Canonical Liquor Intolerence, Excessive Husbands upon Request)

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8. Helloo im new to asking for fics (i hope i am doing this right haha) i am looking for two fics

A) one where wangxian were college sweethearts and got married but divorced, then wei wuxian got into an accident and he lost his memories but lan wangji was still with him when he woke up in the hospital and even brought him his medicine.

B) The second one is Modern wei ying wanted to adopt wen yuan but in order to do that he has to be married and stable in life so he reconnects with lan zhan to ask for help which of course he does.

Thankyou!

8A)

FOUND? no balance by silverclaw (G, 20k, WangXian, Modern, Post-Divorce, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Back Together, Netflix Show Host WWX, Concept Artist LWJ, the give LWJ friends agenda, WWX is a sweetheart and i WILL hug him, That’s a threat, Temporary Amnesia)

FOUND? but the days, they will blur by TheGirlWithTheKite (E, 60k, WangXian, Temporary Amnesia, Hospitalization, Car Accidents, College/University, Flashbacks, Repressed Memories, Recovered Memories, Modern, jyl and jzx die in this fic, LWJ's magical healing cock, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Butt Plugs, sex to regain memories, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, A-Yuan is baby, a-ling is baby, Established Relationship, But also getting together, Pining, all WWX does is pout gasp and pine, Angst with a Happy Ending, Miscommunication, Distrust, Insecurity)

8B)

FOUND? the subtle art of reconnecting with your childhood crush by Flxffyfxck (E, 76k, WangXian, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fake Marriage, Friends to Lovers, Modern, rich LWJ, Poor WWX, Orphans, Orphanage, Foster homes are scary sometimes, Eventual Smut, Idiots in Love, Intentional Child Acquisition, LSZ Needs a Hug, LWJ Has OCD, First Time, Anal Sex, safe sex saves lives!, Possessive Sex, Possessive LWJ, Slice of Life, Sad boi hours, Fluff and Angst, Panic Attacks, Whipped Cream, Blow Jobs)

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9. Hi, for the next fic finder, I’m looking for a time travel fix it where LXC is the one who goes back in time. That’s pretty much all I remember, sorry. @villeinagefanstuff

FOUND? 🔒 The blame game by apathyinreverie (T, 13k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & WWX, LSZ & WWX, WWX & WQ, Fix-It, Time Travel, LXC time travels, Canon Divergence, Possessive LWJ, Oblivious WWX, Fluff, Siblings, Romance, Golden Core Reveal, kind of, Golden Core Fix-It, crack-y idea taking itself far too seriously)

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10. Hey there I'm looking for a fic where wei wuxian went back in time in his yiling laozu body. I remember he was called wei yuanji or something like that. And no this is not the one where the wei yuanji is married to wen rouhan

I remember some details that madam yu is slightly nicer towards this time traveler wei, and how wei ying jiang cheng and jiang yanli all like him as a big brother. Sect leader jiang and madam yu kinda fix their relationship too from traveler wei's quiet comment i think. Time traveler wei is also depressed and sometimes speaks in riddles or nonsense that has connections to the future. Thank you for your help

FOUND! remind me of MingYu by Fino_Al_Cielo (T, 89k, WWX & LWJ, WIP, YLLZ WWX, yunmeng siblings, Fix-It of Sorts, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, Not Everyone Dies, PTSD, References to Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Trauma, there are 2 WWXs, 1 from the future, the other from the normal canon timelines, Pining, WWX just doesn't knows it yet, chapter 23 - implied rape, chapter 23 - graphic torture, chapter 23 - trigger warnings!) but WWX's name is different

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11. Hi im looking for this fic i read awhile ago and cant seem to find! i forgot why wwx and lwj were on the runbut they hid with wen qing with the wens. wwx gave birth to an oc baby and wen yuan was wen qings cousins baby. wwx and lwj have to leave so they leave their kid with the wens but then their kid gets taken by the jins along with ayuan and put into the wen camps where ayuans mom dies. And then the next part i remember is that lwj and wwx confront jin zixun about the heir of gusulan and stuff being in the camps infront of everyone and they save the wens @yesibest

FOUND? 🧡 Don’t Wanna Fall by nekojita (M, 111k, WangXian, Mpreg, A/B/O, Fix-it, Lots of pining, Angst with a happy ending, Canon Divergence, Child thief WN)

FOUND? Take Responsibility by draechaeli (E, 187k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Mainly Novel with a few CQL and Donghua bits, Everybody Lives, Original Children Characters, Adoption, Adoption but WWX birthed them all, Mpreg, Teen Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Male Lactation, Lactation Kink, Consensual Non-Consent, Light Bondage, Pregnant Sex, easy to skip nsfw chapters, Fix-It, Happy Ending)

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12. Reddit has directed me to you oh great ones 🧎‍♀️. Essentially, I read a time travel fic a while ago that was amazing and after scouring tags and even my history (I’ve only been bookmarking for a month like a dummy) I haven’t found it. The fic is wwx getting dumped back into his body in the lectures arch immediately after dying. He has some insane PTSD (like genuinely doesn’t want to live anymore but also feels guilty about how he ruined things the first time) and I distinctly remember him throwing up meat of all kinds and the Jiang siblings not understanding but LWJ just rolls with it from what I remember. The final piece which I’m only 90% sure was part of this fic is the plot twist. After everything’s said and done we find out NHS and NMJ are the culprits behind the time travel bc NHS had them both tattooed with WWXs time travel talismans that he made in his first life and he was terrified of losing his brother (pretty positive he had figured out JGY was poisoning him)

Anywhosies, thank you in advance if you are able to find this masterpiece. @xxxnpcxxx

FOUND? Wish me luck by starlight1395 (Not Rated, 164k, WangXian, JC/NHS, JYL/JZX, Fix It, Time Travel, Angst, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Nightmares, Slight fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Lots of tears, canon levels of blood/violence, Minor Character Death, secondary character death, Sibling Bonding, JC curses alot, battle scenes with appropriate levels of violence and blood, semi mild smut, it's emotional and soft smut tho so it's okay, mild Self-harm)

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13. hello! i’m looking for a post first-siege fic but i don’t remember too much about it. it’s set after LWJ is injured with his 33 lashes, and WWX sneaks(?)/deliriously stumbles into the jingshi after news of his death has already permeated the jianghu (i’m pretty sure). LWJ is woken up by WWX(?) or wakes up to WWX kinda slumped beside him. some feels are definitely had between them but i don’t remember the details.

LXC discovers WWX embarrassingly quickly, and in this fic i’m pretty sure this LXC leans on the “WWX was your only mistake” kind of LXC, but ultimately doesn’t care that he’s in CR for the sake of LWJ—like he’s incredibly wary of WWX and his intentions but throughout the fic you can see LXC realizing he’s more than just the yiling patriarch or the man who broke his brother’s heart.

now there are two scenes i remember from this fic, but i’m not sure which one goes first, and for all i know i might be mistaking two different fics lol. but i distinctly remember WWX coming down with a severe illness. like LWJ and LXC come back to the jingshi at some point and discover that something is really wrong with him, and i think him being sick leads to a golden core reveal? not sure tho.

the scene that i remember that is definitely part of the fic i’m looking for is when LWJ and LXC (i think maybe for a medical check up for LWJ?) leave the jingshi for some reason, and WWX just chills for a little bit. after a while a servant comes into the jingshi to clean some things up, and WWX has to scramble to find a hiding place because no one else in the lan sect is supposed to know he’s there. he ends up hiding behind the far side of LWJ’s bed(?) OR behind a privacy screen(?), and he just sits there, cramped and uncomfortable for who knows how long, before LWJ comes back.

LWJ doesn’t see him at first and you can tell that he’s afraid WWX left, but WWX calls out for him and LWJ discovers his hiding spot, where i’m pretty sure WWX is cultivating some nasty illness.

i just realized i don’t know where a-yuan fits in here since WWX is still alive—i THINK lxc goes to save him himself, if WWX doesn’t already have him. please disregard this if this muddles up your search 🙏 i think paragraphs 1, 2, and 4 are the most accurate to what i’m looking for. sorry if this is too long 😭 and thank you for your hard work!!! @shenguangjun

FOUND? Unbreakable Heaven, Luminous Earth by carolyncaves (M, 96k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Secret Identity, almost to the point of uncomfortable identity theft, Sharing a Bed, Literal Sleeping Together, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Suicidal Thoughts, that's for WWX after Nightless City and is not pervasive throughout the fic, Blood and Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Caretaking, Sexual Content, Domestic Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Power Imbalance, mainly between WWX and JGY in an entirely nonsexual manner, this isn't really a kid fic but the kids are there, as are some yunmeng sibling feelings, JYL lives, Not Everyone Dies, some COVID parallels, this is not a quarantine fic, but thematically WWX deals w things like face-covering for safety and loss of control, also assume all canon warnings, this AU is gentler than canon but isn't a complete fix-it) this fic has a similar scene at the beginning, with WWX hiding from the servants?

FOUND? i woke on wasted bones by orphan_account (E, 9k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sentient Burial Mounds, Cloud Recesses, Golden Core Reveal, Healing, Serious Injuries, Sharing a Bed, First Kiss, First Time, drama and novel canon mashup, Getting Togethe,r Angst with a Happy Ending, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, With Art by JoshuaBeeking) is probably not "i woke on wasted bones" unless the asker is mixing two fics; it does fit some of the description, though, so I'll suggest it just in case

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14. Tw: miscarriage. Hi! I think I might have imagined reading this but I’m looking for a fic where WWX was pregnant and Lans punished him for some reason and he lost the baby. Lan Wangji didn’t do anything to protect him.

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15. I’m looking for a fic where Wei Ying gets mad at Lan Zhan. The fic starts off when Lan Zhan has sex with Wei Ying and Wei Ying decides to run away. Wei Ying puts on Lan Zhan’s robes and runs around Cloud Recesses in the middle of the night. Lan Zhan catches him and drags him back to their room and starts to punish him which causes him to yell and scream. The juniors knock on their door and Wei Ying slaps Lan Zhan across the face. They later make up when Lan Zhan gives Wei Ying something. @monochrome012

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16. Hello dear, I am looking for a wangxian fic where wei wuxian was expelled from study in cloud receses and write letter to everyone except lan wangji. after lecture lan wangji and lan xichen visit yunmeng, but wei wuxian ignore lan wangji.

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17. For the next fic finder I was wondering if anyone has read this fic in which wwx is an omega but everyone thinks he's an alpha so when he is smelling Nie Huaisang he gets scolded by Lan Qiren and MAYBE Lan Wangji? It was during the Cloud Recesses Arc

FOUND! We Should Have Realized by BINGHESCURLS (T, 2k, WangXian, NHS & WWX, JC & WWX, Canon Divergence, A/B/O, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV Outsider, Feelings Realization, Nesting, Scenting, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Alpha JC, Omega NHS, POV NHS, JC is a Good Brother, LQR Being an Asshole, Crying, Apologies, Mating Cycles/In Heat)

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18. Hi amazing people!!! Asking for help again!! I wonder if you could help me find two fics!! A) One is where people can transform into animals, and they have ears of the animal they transform to all the time!! I remember Lan Zhan had fox ears I think and Wei Ying had round ears, really cute, I remember an image of the two of them!! B) Another one where Wei Ying is adopted by a courtesan and does that and cultivation, he helps in the Sunshot Campaign!! Great stories both!! Help me please!! Be well!! @monicaop21

18A)

FOUND! 🔒 Letters along a River by Ilona22 (M, 19k, WangXian, JYL/LXC, Nighthunting, Letters, Animal Traits, Mystery, Prejudice against Prey Shifters)

18B)

FOUND! 🔒 Flowers Blooming by Ilona22 (M, 35k, WangXian, Alternate Universe, Adoption, Prostitution, Family Fluff, Family Drama, Growing Up, War and what it does to the lives of normal people)

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19. Hey! Long shot, might be hard to find, but for the next fic finder — was there a fic where Wangxian were both pornstars? AFAIK, bottom Wei Ying, and he falls in love with Lan Wangji during the many scenes they have to perform together. Cant remember any more details but they were like, professional pornstars. Thank you all! Much love :)

FOUND? Afterglow by Court_on_Fire (E, 4k, WangXian, Wangxian/others implied, Pornstar WWX, Pornstar LWJ, Pining while fucking, Friends to Lovers, Porn With Plot, Porn AU, Confessions, Anal Sex)

FOUND? Wei Wuxian makes a porno by andreanna (E, 8k, WangXian, Modern, Porn AU, camboy, Power Dynamics, Attempt at Humor, Multimedia, LWJ's canonical big dick, Deepthroating, Voyeurism)

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20. I’m not sure if this ao3 fanfic is deleted because it’s been a couple years, but I’m desperately looking for this wwx x lwj fanfic. from what i remember

wwx has been a god for a really long time (i think yunmeng god, but i’m not entirely sure. and i believe a lot of people stopped worshipping him and he kind of became forgotten?)

he stumbles across young lwj in cloud recesses and takes interest in him, visits lwj every night

i think wwx disappears for some time because he meddled in during the wen clan war/sunshot campaign, which gods were not supposed to

and that’s about all the details i can remember, apart from the fact that it’s EXTREMELY well-written. if anyone has any inkling or possibilities please send them my way! (i couldn’t find it under the deity wwx tag)

FOUND? reminded me of Red Flower Fortress by Tysis (T, 4k, WangXian, Immortals, Immortality, WWX is a GOD, Fix-It of Sorts, Everyone Lives, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, They will get together but not until LWJ ascends, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Unreliable Narrator, Two of them) Where WWX slept under Gusu Mountain, only occasionally waking up until the Wens attack and he does something

FOUND? A Path of Red Spider Lillies by glowingreverie (M, 208k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, hualian, TGCF fusion, angst w happy ending, comedy, mild sexual content, gore, death, past child abuse, supernatural elements, slow burn, WIP)

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[mochatsin]

MC as a Dating Sim Character Part 2

An AU in which the seven brothers knew you as a dating sim character from a game they love to play so much. Though the game glitched and was shortly deleted after. The demons end up finding out that their beloved character is actually alive… or came to life?

Thank you for all the love you guys gave to the first part of the Reverse!MC AU.

The seven would sit you down and ask you questions, ones specifically catered to you to check if you were the same character they played. It ranged from your basic interests to something that were more personal. To them, they’re just lore that they got by playing through the game. But to you, those were some deep secrets that you never tell anyone unless they were your closest friends. 

It felt weird to sit in a room with several strangers that seemed to know everything about you. It was like you were bare to the world and to everyone, unaware that you were a video game character. In your perspective, those storylines and game events are memories, things that actually happened to you. Now you’re surrounded with demons that assume they know you.

Satan is the first to notice how uncomfortable you look when Levi tries to prove that he knows your lore, reciting it all perfectly and you’re confused on how they knew this personal information. The fourth born is the one that tries to stop his brothers from saying more than they need to, and a few got the hint to keep shut. There’s some things that should come from your mouth, not theirs. 

This is what the demon’s gathered. As far as you know, everything you’ve experienced was real. You don’t know about the game they say you came from, but you know the other roster of datable characters as if they were also real people to you. Some of them were your friends, and it’s beginning to dawn onto them that you’re more than just some character now. You’re your own person with more complex feelings than codes can ever give. No more scripted lines that make your responses predictable. 

The royals say that you should stay over in the House of Lamentation for a while and when you asked what room you’ll be staying in, the brothers started talking all at once on why you should pick their room. 

If you want to admire a collection of model cars and luxury brands, ‘The Great Mammon’ is willing to let you bunk with him but it’s not because he wants you to stay or anything. Levi has a lot of games and shows you both can enjoy (because your character profile already stated what you’ll like) but his bathtub may not give enough comfort as a bed would.

Asmo offers his gigantic bathroom and promises you can sleep with the finest silk linen sheets with some calm inducing aromatherapies. Satan is cursing under his breath when he recalls how his new books took up more bedspace, his pigsty of a room can hardly offer you anything but clutter.

The twins are happy to let you stay with them, Beel would promise you some of the best midnight snacks and Belphie is willing to let you borrow his cow pillow to make sure you sleep well. Lucifer had to intervene with the brothers, shutting down their offers (even when he himself has so much to give) and states that you will be occupying the guest room for the time being. At least it gives you the much needed privacy.

While you try to adjust to your life here in Devildom, Lucifer makes the arrangements for you to stay at the House of Lamentation. It’s best to focus first on getting yourself comfortable in this new world before everyone sorts things out with how you got here. To players, your file was corrupted and glitched in the game. To you, your vision went blurry and you passed out before waking up in Devildom shortly after. 

You still have the same personality that you had as your old game model, so the brothers have a vague idea of how to approach you. Though they needed to constantly remind themselves that you’re not just some character anymore. Before you could even visit their rooms, they cleaned up their ‘mess’ which meant hiding all the merch products and photos of you. Now that you’re real, it’s quite embarrassing and awkward if you found this. Levi had the hardest time hiding an entire shelf of merch. 

The demons, especially those who were so invested in your lore, made sure not to romanticize or make light of your stories. Regardless of how your background was well-written for character development, it was still very much real to you. Levi needed to personally note to himself to be more sensitive about it when he heard you talk about your backstory. It’s different when it’s coming from a game and when it’s coming from you. 

All those voice recordings they have saved needed to be archived or put somewhere more private. Mammon accidentally had it played while you were around and he ran away so fast before you could even react to your own voice. There was a reminder from Lucifer at the end of the day in their group chat to be more mindful about any saved ringtones or voice packs. It’s best to replace them for now. They don’t need it as much anymore now that they can just talk to you, it was much better than any recording.

If you ever said any catchphrase or lines that you normally say in the game, they always get caught off guard and turn to you immediately. At some point, Satan managed to complete your sentence when you spoke the first line and he tried to play it cool but you can see how flustered he was behind the book he was hiding from. It just so happens that he memorized some of your home screen lines and blurted it out. 

Asmo helps you get some better clothes, there’s no way he could just let you wear the same thing everyday or any sort of hand-me-downs. He brings you around Majolish and several shops until you find what sort of outfits would suit you. Watching you come out in different outfits, showing him some of the clothes you both picked out makes Asmo so giddy inside. Maybe one day he can try to get one of your old in-game outfits sewn or something inspired by it, he has the money and talent to make you shine.

Since you came from a game, you belong to neither realms and it was better you stayed in Devildom surrounded by people willing to take care of you and know about your situation. You’re now the new transfer student now in RAD with one of the seven always tailing you behind your back. It’s perfect timing because Diavolo was planning an exchange program and you’re just the last student they needed!

The only problem was that since the game you came from was quite a big hit before, it’s undeniable when some of the students or other demons seem to recognize you. You looked like that beloved character that suddenly went missing, you even sound like it too. This sort of unwanted attention can be uncomfortable when they get too close to your liking.

Beel is always the one looking after you if any demon tries something funny, making sure they all back away from you. There was one point that a demon kept insisting you were that game character and poked your face, resulting in Beel almost hurling them to a wall. 

Belphie is always dozing off next to you in classes, but his murderous glances are always enough to make the rumors quiet down during your first few days. You think that most of the time he’s just sleeping, but others swear that they can feel his piercing gaze hiding behind those bangs. 

The seven are all fascinated by you now that you’re here. Those days were spent where they were wondering what happened to you in the game, now they knew why. For some unknown reason, you just came to life. Their own favorite character is now living with them but they knew seeing you in that light could be harmful. They needed to remember you’re not just some character anymore. You’re you now.

[howlingmod]

Are you bored yet?

summary ; human/actors au again ... reader is a local clay worker that Wally may or may not like just a teeny bit. meetcute coric ..

notes ; they/them used for reader , not proof read and just a teeeny tiny bit rushed (i am sleepy) . glass breaks but there is no violence or anything ..

wc - 2k

He really should’ve been more careful, looking back on it now.

Yes, it’d been a while since he’d gotten that vase and set it down, but, really, for walking past it every single day, he should’ve realized how precariously it sat on the table. He should’ve realized that sooner or later, he was going to be too tired to remember to give it some space when he walked back into his apartment. Unfortunately, however, he did not in fact realize that in time. And so, he is tragically faced with the terrible fate of going and buying a new vase. Perhaps this time, he will not place it so precariously. Perhaps this time he will buy a thicker one that has less chances of shattering into one-thousand tiny pieces in the dark at around 10pm on a Thursday. He had much to think about in his journey of replacement.

Luckily, for as long as he’d had the vase, he could still vaguely recall where he’d gotten it from. It was some pottery store he’d randomly passed by once just outside of the city, curiousity (and fatigue, if he remembers right, it’d been an eventful day and he was still too jittery to lay down quite yet) getting the better of him when he’d noticed it. The owners were nice enough, an older couple who he could recall telling him long-winded stories about anything tangentially related to what he’d been looking at. Plates with flowers painted on them prompted a story about some unidentified, gorgeous plants one of them had seen around a river long ago. A cup with an oceanic color-scheme had prompted a tale of a seagull one of their previous coworkers would feed bits and pieces of bread to on their break. So on, so forth. Long winded for anyone passing through, but pleasant for someone just tired enough to want white noise and easy, one-sided conversation.

Getting into his car, he wondered if they’d have any stories to tell him this time. He would likely be better conversation this time, now that he was less exhausted from being around other people for a long, exciting period of time and more tired from waking up at some time before 11am on a rare free day. He found himself gathering excitment somewhere in his chest, bubbling up in fondness at the idea of this little trip. Sure, it was just a silly little thing to be excited over, but it was nice to have a break from monotony, wasn’t it?

It was a nice day out, too. The breeze forgiving and the sun sociable in the sky, bright rays easily negotiated to peace with sunglasses. It’d been a while since he’d ventured out of the city. Sure, it’s not as though he lived in the heart of it, but it was still different to see the buildings like miniatures from afar. It was a nice break from the towering skyscrapers and heavy traffic. Especially the traffic, actually. He’d never been good with handling bad drivers.

There wasn’t anyone else in the parking lot, only one or two other cars there, likely the owner’s or someone in a closeby building’s. There were a few other businesses dotted around in the area, some strip mall closeby and a park on the way there. He was likely just early, there probably aren’t many people stopping to buy pottery at 9am.

The inside of the store was quiet enough, music playing softly enough you had to pay attention to the murmurs to pick up on it. The lights shone on everything, not blindingly as much as it was in gentle awareness of everything. As his eyes refocused, he could’ve sworn he seen a vague shape duck into a doorway near the back of the store. Before he could properly investigate his suspicions, his attention was drawn away.

“Well, I was wondering when the resident celebrity was coming back!”

He couldn’t help but chuckle a bit, turning to face his company. “I hope I’m not intruding, it seems I’m rather early this time.”

The older woman he recognized from his previous visit smiled and shook her head, “Much earlier, I’m glad to see the cold night didn’t drag you in this time.”

He returned the smile, pushing his hands into his pants pockets as he replied, “Oh no, I was actually coming to look and see if you had any new vases in.”

She’d lit up at his words, straightening up with intent to lead him off, “Of course! We’ve got plenty of new ones in since last time, I’m sure we can find one to your liking.”

-

“-turns out, that hammering I thought I’d heard from the neighbors had just been a big woodpecker all along!”

He’d smiled fondly, “Ah! You don’t see many of those around here, do you?” He was careful to keep a good grip on the vase in his hands, decorated in an intricate scene of a forest dotted with various birds. From the minute details on every pine needle and carved indents on certain elements, he could only imagine how long it’d taken to make.

“No, no you don’t,” she’d laughed, shaking her head as she looked back to the shelf filled to the brim with other, equally eye-catching vases. He’d studied the one in his hands a moment longer, carefully tracing over the carving of texture in a tree before perking up at a new sound.

A soft ‘clink’ had snapped him out of his thoughts. Initially, he’d figured the old woman had picked up a new piece to show him, but found she was still studying the selection herself. He’d turned around quickly, curious to see if anyone else had stopped in, but the store was empty. That was when his eyes caught that doorway again, vaguely making out the shape of shelving in the darkened hall. On that shelving sat one vase, darkness obscuring the pattern of it.

“Why put that one piece there?”

The woman had snapped out of her own thoughts, looking back at him momentarily before following his gaze to the pot patiently sitting in the shade. Upon noticing the object of his attention, she’d smiled once more and turned back to him, “Our resident potter puts their finished work there so we can price it and set it out.”

That had caught his attention. “Resident?”

“Oh yes! While we do get a fair amount from other sources, just as fair an amount is homemade,” she hummed, “Would you like to meet them?”

He’d readjusted his hold on the vase again, not wanting to risk another work in his excitement, “If that wouldn’t be a bother.”

She shook her head, “I’m sure it’ll be quite alright, chances are they would appreciate the conversation, artist-to-artist.”

Before he could offer any sort of further fret, she’d started off towards the hall, leaving him to stand awkwardly with the glassware on his lonesome. He’d glanced at the large cardinal on the surface of the piece one final time before hurriedly (and carefully) placing it back on the shelf, jumping to catch up.

-

It was far darker back here than it had been in the main area of the store. Combined with the noticable increase in temperature, however, it was more comfortable than you would’ve imagined. Through the shade he could pick out calenders, notes and other miscellanious papers littered along walls and desks. Half-dirtied rags were scattered on shelves, various bottles standing not far from them nor the different tools lying about. Before he could even try and dissect what their uses would be by simple observing and guessing, the woman spoke up again.

“I hope you don’t mind some company, (Name),” she chimed, speaking just a tad louder to properly catch attention in all the visual noise.

With that, he’d finally noticed the figure standing in front of a tall table near the middle of the room, turning their head to look towards her. Their eyes flicked to him momentarily in what he could only assume was surprise. They’d straightened up from their hunched over position, wiping their hands off on a dirtied apron as they walked around the table and towards the pair.

Oh no.

They’d opened their mouth to start talking to her, but he couldn’t pick up on any of it. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was focusing on, he just knew that he was particularly distracted by the person in front of him and it wasn’t exactly getting any better the more and more he zoned out. He couldn’t make out every detail perfectly in the low-lighting, but it was enough that he could very, very easily tell this person was very, very attractive.

“-so you’re that one guy on tv?”

“Yes!” He flinched as he snapped out of his thoughts, “Wally Darling, but just Wally is more than fine.”

You’d smiled and for a brief moment he had to hope and pray his wasn’t too dopey and the low light hid the heat in his face as you stuck your hand out. There was a brief moment your smile faltered, as though suddenly realizing something, but it wasn’t a fast enough reaction as he’d snatched up your hand. Your hands were, similarly to the rest of the room, noticably warmer. They were also noticably sticky with clay, some already drying out on your skin as the rest, inevitably, would likely dry to his.

“And could I have the pleasure of knowing your name?” You looked like you were stuck between apologizing for getting the blood of your work on him and introducing yourself, glancing between him and your hands for a few moments. He vaguely realized this was probably a bit long for a handshake. Eventually, you managed a weak smile, righting your grip on his hand, “(Name).”

“That’s a very lovely name,” he stated plainly, hoping you could pick up on the sincerity in his flatter tone, “How long have you been working with ceramics, if you don’t mind my asking?”

You’d perked up at that, seemingly completely forgetting about the handshake (that was still yet to properly break apart, this was definitely not a proper one, anymore) with the topic of your work. “Well, that’s a bit of a difficult question. I’ve been working with clay for a long, long time, but I really only picked it up career wise a year or two ago.”

“Ah! That figures, your work is all very professional looking, it’s very impressive,” he complimented. Sure, he might’ve been laying it on a little thick, but it seemed as though he’d suddenly lost the ability to control his words, them tumbling out before he could even really think about it.

Luckily, you didn’t seem to mind, instead reaching up a hand to rub at the back of your neck. “Well, I don’t think my work is that stellar, but I really appreciate it. It uh- it definitely takes some time, it’s nice to see it goes to good use.”

“It’s nothing, really. If you don’t mind, could I watch for a bit? It’s completely fine if not, I really am just curious to see how you go about it.” Yes, he was definitely pushing his luck a little bit. In his defense, however, he was genuinely curious about how you managed to get all your vases so smooth and pack so many details onto such a small, unconventional canvas. It was just an added bonus that he’d possibly get to find out more about you, that was all! He can’t help the mysterious potter he hadn’t even known existed was not only nice on the eyes but, so far, was nothing short of pleasant.

You’d thought on it a moment, moving the hand at the back of your neck to hang at your jaw absentmindedly, “I suppose that would be fine by me, I can’t promise it’ll be too entertaining though.”

He smiled and shook his head, “Not a problem at all! I’m sure I can find enough entertainment for the both of us, I am an entertainer myself, after all.”

You returned his smile, finally letting go of his hand and breaking off your entirely-professional handshake to turn and head back to your workstation, “Well, make yourself comfortable, then.”

"Oh, trust me, that won't be any problem at all."

[rambleonwaywardson]

Clegan Astronaut AU - Part 14

Masterpost Read on AO3

AU Summary: the boys as modern day NASA astronauts. Taking place in 2025, Bucky is about to head to the moon as mission commander of Artemis III while Buck is CAPCOM at NASA. Established relationship (obnoxiously in love).

Author's Note: I've been absolutely blown away by some of your comments, especially on chapter 13. Not lying when I say they make my day. We are slightly shorter this week, just over 10k. There's a few new technical terms in the Mission Control transcript dialogue that I'll include at the end of the chapter.

---

We’re all made of stardust, Gale likes to say.

The human body is nothing but a fascinating and precisely messy, messily precise combination of the very elements that build up everything around us. Everything that has ever lived, everything that has ever been, came from the stars.

It’s hard not to be romantic about space. It’s the very star stuff, after all, that poets and philosophers and physicists alike have wondered and wandered about for as long as human thought has been able to comprehend the idea of an unknown. Our ancient ancestors stared up at the sky and, even without a concept of what it was or where it led to, they looked at the stars, and the stars looked back.

The stars from which we came, and the stars to which we will one day return, when the little miracle of a world on which our kind was born is swallowed by the sun that gave us life. Some may say that the vastness of an infinite universe renders a life lived, no matter how large, insignificant. Nothing but a speck in the cosmos, a blip on the timeline of something grander than we can ever comprehend. 

But why can’t it be the other way around?

For life to come forth from the building blocks of a largely uninhabitable infinity feels like impossible odds, because the odds should be mathematically impossible. One in infinity. And yet, billions of years of chance and circumstance, and it resulted in you.

Who’s to say that a life lived, no matter how small, isn’t, by virtue of its very existence, the most significant thing imaginable? Perhaps it’s made even more so by the reality of a forever that we can’t comprehend. Because, of all the infinite possibilities in the universe, you are here. You are breathing. You exist. You are alive.

Our universe is a masterpiece with no artist to claim it, the most complex melody to ever be played. A human life, a human breath, may be but a moment on a vast canvas of reality that we can never touch. 

But what a moment.  

How special is it that such a thing is even possible. To one person, a life is everything. To the universe, many think it’s nothing. But in a sky of a million stars, every little thing is a puzzle piece, one stroke of a brush that fills in the gaps in this work of art. Where life seems impossible, every improbable life that beats those odds is nothing short of a miracle.

So. How lucky are we that this beautiful, complicated universe aligned so perfectly, that the laws of physics have permitted us to exist as we do, together, in this minute span of space and time?

We’re all made of stardust.

That thought has always made Bucky smile. 

One day he’ll return to the stars that created him from nothing, but until then, he exists in a universe that gave him everything. A reality that, among improbable odds, gave him Gale. 

—

November 22 Lunar South Pole, Starship

When Curt opens his eyes, he doesn’t recall closing them. He must have fallen asleep at some point in the night that, on this side of the moon’s south pole, is never actually night. Just a stone’s throw away, and he would be in total darkness all the time. But not here. Not where his ship sits, lonely in an ocean of glass and dust. Oxygen, silicon, magnesium, iron. The same oxygen that fills his lungs. The same iron that courses through his blood.

He’s spent too long listening to Gale Cleven wax poetic about the universe.

When he blinks his eyes open, he can’t explain the vague feeling of dread pulling the walls of his chest inwards like a perpetually collapsing tower of cards. Perhaps that’s just the state in which he’s been living the past few days. Never sure what comes next, up here on this nowhere neverland. Unstable, ready to topple at the slightest breeze.

Maybe it’s a good thing, then, that there is no wind on the moon.

Music is playing. He must have forgotten to turn it off. Mournful notes surround him on all sides, washing over him in a surreal tide of sound.

One More Light, by Linkin Park. Who cares if one more light goes out in the sky of a million stars?

The dread in Curt’s gut quivers, spreading through him like a disease. He glances over at Bucky’s still form across the cabin, but he can’t see the rise and fall of his chest in the dimness of the lander’s simulated night. He swallows, feeling the painful lump of anxiety stuck in his dry throat. The song, no doubt, doesn’t help.

It plays on, though, as he rolls sloppily out of his hammock and wanders over to Bucky’s cot. Slowly, slowly, almost like he doesn’t want to know. As if his actions right this very second, this fraction of a second, could change an outcome that he’s fought tooth and nail to have any say in. He hears his own heartbeat, pumping blood that carries within it the same iron that courses through the veins of their solar system. He feels it pounding in his chest as he wades through this small ocean of a no man’s land. Schrodinger’s cat – alive or dead? 

He looks. Slowly, slowly. And he swears he feels the moment his soul is crushed beneath a weight that it wasn’t designed to bear.

For a moment, he is consumed by all of his worst fears. A heart stopped. Chest still. Face pale. Fingers cold. Unmoving. Like a light gone out, the blink of a supernova that can’t be observed with the naked eye, nothing but the sudden absence of light to tell the universe that it’s moved on from this life.

Not even a flicker.

Bucky. 

Just gone in the night. 

Who cares when someone’s time runs out if a moment is all we are?

Curt wakes with a gasp, a ball of anxiety dislodging from his throat in a scream that he has to forcefully shove back down into his chest so it doesn’t ring out at a deafening pitch. His eyes snap open, his hands gripping the fabric of his hammock so tight his fingers hurt. 

Alone. He’s alone. 

The only living being on the surface of this whole desert-island world. 

He can’t breathe. 

He glances over at Bucky’s still form, squinting through the darkness of the cabin. He can’t see well enough. His fingers frantically search for the PTT button on his coms.

Curt: “Benny? Benny??”

Benny: “You okay, Curt?”

Curt: “Is he alive?” He can’t push the words out fast enough, desperate enough. Not a single person on shift misses the way his voice breaks on the third word.

Silence.

Curt can feel the panic rising up through his body, tears threatening to spill over. His heart is beating too fast in a chest that feels hollow and hopeless, and his head spins. He waits for Benny to tell him no, don’t you remember… Waits for the confirmation that he’s lost perhaps the most important person in his life. Nervously, though, he looks at the time displayed on the console across from him. It’s the same day as it was before, when he last remembers being awake.

The same day. 

A dream. 

But. It’s 5:30am GMT. He’s been asleep for at least four hours, the longest he’s dared to close his eyes in the past few days. Bucky’s progress gave him a sense of complacency, and now he worries it’ll cost him everything.

A lot can happen in four hours. But it doesn’t take a lot for a light to go out.

He swallows thickly. His whole face burns, his eyes stinging with the fear that is threatening to eat him alive if his CAPCOM doesn’t say something.

Curt: “Benny?”

Benny: “He’s fine, Curt. Did something happen? His vitals look as stable as can be expected.”

Curt shakes his head, as if he isn’t alone in the dark. He flexes his fingers against the side of the hammock, gripping and releasing, gripping and releasing. His eyes squeeze shut against unshed tears.

Curt: “No. Bad dream.” He tries to make his lungs work properly. Tries to force his body to stop shaking. He’s okay. He’s okay. “Forgot to turn the music off.”

Who cares if one more light goes out?Well I do.

Okay. Well. That’s certainly enough of that.

Curt throws himself out of the hammock with abandon, stumbling as his socked feet slide on the floor. He grabs his tablet, pauses the music, and he stares down at the screen long after it fades to black again, unblinking as the quiet descends around him. 

Benny: “I told you we were concerned about the sad boy hours playlist.”

Curt: “Oh shut it, Benny.”

He hears Benny snicker.

Benny: “You okay, Curt?”

His heart is still pounding. The dread is still making a home deep in his chest. All he feels is a gripping fear that isn’t quite like anything he’s ever felt before. But he nods.

Curt: “Yeah. Thanks, Benny.”

He turns on the lights. And he wanders, slowly, slowly, over to Bucky’s cot. Relief washes over him when he sees the way Bucky’s hand twitches. The way it moves slowly, slowly, up from Bucky’s side to his chest. Blue eyes blink up at Curt, brow scrunched. The hint of a smile plays at the corner of Bucky’s mouth.

“Scream?” he says quietly, fighting to scrape the words out of a dry throat through lips that fumble across the messy syllable.

Curt huffs and rubs a hand over his face. He nods. “Yeah. I did.”

The expression on Bucky’s face changes, the quirk of his lips dropping as he squints up at Curt in concern, but it returns a second later. “The fuck?”

That makes Curt laugh, and he feels some of the nerves recede. A tide going out as the world continues to turn. “You’re just full of sass, aren’t you.”

Bucky makes a vague, minute motion with his shoulders that might be a shrug. Curt watches as Bucky’s left hand drifts in stiff, labored movements up to his chest to meet his right. His fingers brush over his wedding band, and Curt can visibly see some of the tension leave Bucky’s body.

“You remember him talkin’ to ya last night?” Curt asks. He reaches a hand out to rest on Bucky’s good leg and shakes it gently. 

Bucky’s eyes flick back up to him even as his thumb continues to rub over the ring. “Buck,” he breathes out. His eyes, already glassy, take on a wet look and drift away from Curt’s. The corners of his mouth drop into a frown. “Don’t… cry.”

Curt doesn’t know who he’s saying it to, exactly. Himself or Gale. Belated words that he couldn’t force out hours ago. But the words, the look on Bucky’s face, make Curt feel like crying anyways.

And then Bucky’s out again. 

—

Houston, TX

Marge is exhausted. She won’t complain, but she’s barely getting any more sleep than Gale is. She loves her job as Artemis PAO, she really does. But it was running her ragged even before catastrophe struck home. She’s dedicating all of her work hours and then some to keeping this mess controlled in the media. She’s been constantly communicating with the public about the mission status, monitoring media coverage, negotiating with media outlets about what to release when, and trying her best to keep the whole damn world off Gale’s back. She fights like a mother cat, baring her teeth and showing her claws as she pulls out every trick in the book to keep the ugliness of the press from descending on her best friend. Her brother. 

She spends her entire ten hour work day between Mission Control and her office, trying to put out fires and keep up with the shit storm swirling around her, and she is never, ever done. She’s working before she gets to the office and she’s working after she leaves. She’s working in the middle of the night while she lies awake in Gale’s guest bedroom. 

And when she’s not doing any of that, she’s keeping a sharp eye on Gale. 

Gale, her best friend since they were just little kids in grade school, playing make believe in her bedroom or throwing sticks for the dog. Wandering through the countryside under a setting sun, Gale telling her all about the stars above, the stars he has always loved so much. Camping in her backyard, making pillow forts to watch movies and share secrets in, making up stupid handshakes that they could never quite remember. 

Gale, who, at only eight years old, came to her house with tears staining his cheeks but trying so, so hard to hide how much he’d been crying after his dad hit him for the first time. Gale, who bit his lip until it bled because he was scared to go home but just as scared to tell Marge why. Gale, who learned too early that life can suck, but tried so hard to break free anyways.

Gale, who she grew up with, who she has watched become the incredible man he is. Who she loves so deeply. Her platonic soulmate, she likes to say, making him laugh as he hugs her tight. They’d go to the ends of the Earth for each other. Hell, they showed up on NASA’s doorstep together, prepared to do just that in their own ways. 

She has seen him succeed. She has seen him on top of the world in every sense of the word. And she has seen him hurt. She has seen him cry. She has seen him seething with rage. But she has very rarely seen him scared. Not since he was that wide-eyed little boy watching bruises bloom on his arms and chest for the very first time.

Gale Cleven and scared are not words that feel right together, but they are words that, from time to time, do coexist. Marge is one of only two people in the whole world who ever sees what that intersection looks like. Her. And John.

Gale is scared, now. He’s angry. He’s grieving. He’s lost and confused and hurting and hesitantly hopeful but trying not to crumble, trying not to get caught beneath a landslide. He’s scared. Because John almost died. Could still, perhaps. He could come home, or he could not. He could come home, but if he does, he could be totally different. He could be fine. Or he could not. And no one knows. No one will know until he’s safe and sound with his feet on dry land, wrapped in Gale’s arms with a beating heart. It could happen. Or it could not. And now Marge has to hold the pieces of his husband together.

She’s trying her best, she really is. She’s terrified to take her eyes off of Gale, though. Everyone sees him as this stoic pillar of strength that can always be relied upon, because he is. She knows that he isn’t prone to dramatics or drastic measures. He’s level-headed, ready for anything, indomitable. He’s unbreakable, when it comes to everything except for John.

John, who has spent nearly two decades chipping away at Gale’s walls of stone. John, who calms the internal storm that Gale won’t let the world see. John, who takes care of Gale when no one else notices that he needs to be taken care of. 

Buck and Bucky. One cannot exist without the other.

One half in limbo, and so the other won’t sleep. Gale barely even eats. It doesn’t seem to occur to him. Marge is worried that if he keeps going like this, he’ll simply keel over or get into an accident or simply vanish from this plane of existence. And if the absolute worst happens, yeah, she’s worried about that unbreakable will in him breaking.

Gale, who she has known as long as she’s known herself. Gale, who has always been there for her through the highs and the lows and the zigzags of this crazy life. Gale, who has always been the strongest person she knows. She doesn’t think she needs to worry, but she isn’t taking the chance.

Gale, who has always been just fine on his own. Gale, who never falters under pressure. Gale, who has never been afraid of anything.

Other than losing John.

Gale, who fell asleep in her bed last night because he was afraid to be alone. She held him close, and she let him sleep right there beside her like they were kids again, hiding from the monsters that he refused to talk about. She’ll call it a win that he slept for four whole hours before he woke around 3am and wandered out of the guest room. She found him sitting on the floor, his back against the door to his master bedroom, the dogs laying beside him. He was looking through the wedding photos, biting too hard on his lip. He’d finally made it to their first look, but he couldn’t bring himself to go further. He just sat there, staring at the emotional and ecstatic look on John’s face as he took in the sight of his fiancé dressed in white, lit up by the sun streaming through the windows. Gale smiled, and he frowned, grimaced at the blood on his lip, ran a hand through his messy hair. And then he smiled again.

“He’s gonna be okay,” he said, not even looking up. His voice was weak but carried a sense of certainty that Marge hadn’t heard since before the accident. “He has to be.”

It breaks her heart, seeing him like this. She wants so badly to make the world right, to bring John home safe, to personally guarantee that Gale doesn’t have to worry about a thing. 

But she can’t.

So she’ll stay with him. She’ll keep an eye on him. She’ll make sure he eats and she’ll hold him up when he falls and she’ll get him through this if it kills her. No matter what happens.

But goddamn is she tired. And scared. 

She’ll protect Gale with everything she has from the cruelty of this world, and she will stand by him in the aftermath. He’s her best friend. Her family.

But John is, too. John is her friend, too. He’s her family, too. Has been since the moment Gale introduced them so many years ago.

So here she is. She’s alone in her office bright and early the morning of November 22nd. Today, Starship leaves the lunar surface, whether John is ready or not. She and Gale arrived at JSC earlier than usual so she could get some extra work done. Normally, she’d stay in Mission Control for the entirety of Red Shift, but she has to moderate a press conference this afternoon. Time that she simply does not have to spare.

When they arrived, Gale went off in search of better coffee than Mission Control has to offer. He’s with Sandra, so they can discuss Artemis 4, though it’ll likely devolve into office gossip anyways. It was difficult for Marge to let him go off without her, somewhere where she can’t watch him, remind him to breathe, hold the broken pieces of him in place. But she thinks some time with one of his colleagues, talking about something that isn’t Artemis 3, will be good for him.

As for her, she’s supposed to be getting work done. Sending emails. Drafting press releases. Checking schedules. But she isn’t doing any of those things. All she’s managed to do since she got here is stare silently at the wall.

She takes a deep, shuddering breath and rubs a hand over her eyes. Fingers poised over her keyboard, she stares at her computer screen, willing herself to get to work on this statement about Major John Egan’s condition and the plans for getting him home. But every time she tries to type his name, she freezes.

Her eyes wander to a photograph on her desk. It’s her, Benny, Gale, John, and Curt standing in front of the SLS in KSC’s Vehicle Assembly Building. They’re all grinning from ear to ear, all of them, even her, in NASA flight suits. She reaches a hand out to touch it, her finger landing gently on John’s face, and all of a sudden there’s tears streaming down her cheeks.

She takes one gasping breath, a little sob that tries its hardest to release every awful thing she’s feeling but can’t even come close. She hides her face in her hands, bites her lip like she’s always telling Gale not to do, and she breathes. Slowly. In. Out.

She’s startled out of it by a knock on her door, and she rushes to brush her hair back out of her face. She wipes below her waterline, taking care not to smear her makeup, and she sits up tall, shoulders back. She plasters a smile to her face even though it will never reach her eyes.

“Come in,” she calls, forcing a steadiness into her voice and hoping it doesn’t betray her.

The door opens, and Benny walks in. Surprised, Marge checks the time. Not quite 8:00.

“Gale’s on console already?” she asks. They’d gotten to JSC around 6:30, but she didn’t expect Benny to leave Mission Control until at least 8am sharp.

He nods. “He wanted me to check on you. He’s concerned.”

Marge laughs wetly, letting her guard down just the littlest bit. It’s just Benny. “He’s concerned about me?”

Benny nods again and sits in the chair on the other side of her desk. He slides a cup of coffee across to her. “Says you’re wearing yourself out looking after him all the time.”

Marge frowns as she grabs the hot cup and inhales the scent of the caffeine she so desperately needs. “I don’t have a choice, Benny. He’s… not okay.”

“I know,” Benny agrees. “But you’re allowed to hurt, too. You love John nearly as much as he does.”

“I don’t think that’s even possible.”

Benny laughs halfheartedly. Marge loves her friends fiercely. But Gale loves John with a power that outshines every star in this universe. “Maybe not,” he says. “But this is hard for all of us. It’s allowed to be hard for you.”

She sips her coffee to keep her voice from trembling. “I know. But he needs me to be the strong one right now. I can’t afford to break.”

Benny nods in understanding and offers a sad smile, because he knows. He feels it, too. This pressing need to keep it together because there is simply no other choice. He can go home and throw things at the walls on his own time if he needs, but Marge can hardly even do that, since she’s basically on 24/7 Gale watch. 

“How’s John doing today?” she asks. They’re getting dangerously close to their Starship launch window.

Benny runs a hand through his hair and sighs deeply. “He’s… improving. We’re seeing more and more signs of him. Just not as quickly as we’d like.” He smiles weakly and tells her about the last six or so hours. Bucky has woken up a few times, totaling about three hours of being conscious. His speech capabilities are returning. Mostly single words like “fuck,” “Gale,” “Curt,” and “shit.” He seems aware of his surroundings. He can answer yes/no questions, and most of the time he seems to remember what happened on the surface. 

He can swallow, and has asked for water twice but is not eating on his own. Curt has had to help him with sitting up and holding his water packet. Sometimes he wakes up confused, startled, anxious, doesn’t seem to know where he is or why. Even awake, he drifts in and out of awareness. He keeps trying to pick at his IV or reach down to his leg, and he seems to be in considerable pain. He has not had another seizure, but his heart rate spikes every once in a while, or his breathing will become erratic, too slow or too fast. 

Perhaps the most promising development is that, as long as Curt helps him get his comcap on, he’s able to speak to Mission Control well enough to convey basic needs. Sort of. Almost. This means, ideally, once Curt manages to get him all set for launch, he’ll be able to communicate with Curt and Gale if he needs anything. Curt, for all intents and purposes, is in charge of all flight and docking duties on Starship. Thankfully, he spent time training on all facets of these procedures, so he isn’t going in blind.

“How’d Gale seem?” Marge asks.

Benny shrugs. “He seemed okay. But, I mean, he usually seems okay on shift, you know?” When Marge frowns, he rushes to reassure her. “I think he’s gonna be alright, Marge. As long as John keeps improving, he’ll be alright.”

“What happens if he doesn’t? Keep improving?”

Benny sighs again and reaches across the desk to take her hand. He glances at the photo on her desk, the one of them all together. He doesn’t know, is the truth. But he’s a pilot. An astronaut. He always has a sense of the worst that can happen, but he can’t afford to actively anticipate that outcome. All he can do is move forward and take it as it comes. He offers Marge a weak smile. “We’re just gonna take this one minute at a time, okay?”

They don’t count in days anymore. Minutes and seconds. It’s all they can ever count on. 

—

Bucky doesn’t like a single thing about this. No. Nope. Not at all.

He scowls at Curt in hopes that that will convey the general desire to burn this entire place to the ground and take the two of them with it.

“I know, dude,” Curt groans. “We don’t got a fuckin’ choice so work with me here.”

Bucky takes a deep breath, as controlled as he can manage, and glances out the window of Starship, which he can finally see out of again now that he’s sitting up. Even once he managed to open his eyes, he spent a long time just staring at the ugly ceiling of their little crew cabin, imagining stars above. Curt has helped him to sit up straight today, though, with his legs hanging over the side of the cot. Before Curt started helping him to dress in his first suit layer, he was finally able to see the damage done to his body – his leg hanging useless and throbbing, held together by a splint, and the faint remnants of a decompression rash mottling his skin. Curt removed the bandage from around his head, but Bucky keeps trying to reach his hand up to rub at the wound there.

Curt keeps swatting it away, saying “I didn’t stitch you up for you to break that open. So quit it or I’ll wrap you up again.”

Sitting up like this makes Bucky feel dizzy, the room tilting and blurring around him all funny, and he feels his heart rate spiking again. He tries to focus on the stars he can see through the window. Flickering lights in a dark, forever sky. He wonders if he can count them, but his brain keeps stalling after he reaches six or seven and his vision goes fuzzy.

Pain pulses in his leg with every heartbeat, and nausea keeps rising and fading, rising and fading. He closes his eyes and tries to breathe deeply, but the air chokes his lungs as his chest shakes with the effort. 

“Hey, take it easy,” Curt says. Bucky feels Curt’s warm hand on his knee as his copilot kneels in front of him. He’s securing the booties of Bucky’s cooling garment, which has to be worn beneath the OCS suit to avoid overheating. How, exactly, to get Bucky into the layers of his suit required a lot of back and forth and arguing between Curt and “the idiots in Mission Control,” while all Bucky could do was sit and wait while they determined how best to dress him up like some sort of doll.

The results were excruciating, involving removing the splint to get the cooling garment over his broken leg, and it was a harrowing taste of what’s to come between now and touching down on Earth. Benny said Smokey wanted Curt to redo the splint anyways, since the swelling in his leg has likely gone down, making it too loose. Either way, Bucky kind of wants to be unconscious again so he doesn’t have to feel so much pain. Part of him thinks if it’s between this and never waking up again, he’d choose the latter. He can’t bear the thought of abandoning Gale like that, but he desperately needs all of this to stop.

Nausea rises up as Curt jostles his leg trying to get the splint back on over the cooling layer, and it doesn’t subside like it did before. Bucky tries to reach out to tap Curt on the shoulder, tries to say something to let him know, but all that comes out is a weak “uh?” And then he’s coughing up bile that misses Curt’s head by mere centimeters. Curt looks at the spot on the floor where it landed, looks up at Bucky with a mix of disgust and pity, and Bucky kind of wants to cry.

He hates this.

He hates it.

He hates the way he can feel it sticking to his mouth and the way it’s making him choke on little coughs that rattle his brain as he tries to keep from swallowing what didn’t make it past his lips. He hates how useless and incompetent he feels, like an overgrown child who can’t take care of himself or so much as communicate what he needs. He hates that he can’t dress himself or eat or drink. He can hardly move, can hardly balance enough to sit upright. He hates that Curt is stuck here taking care of him when that is not what he signed up for. And he is in so much pain.

He feels the wetness in his eyes, but thankfully the tears don’t fall.

Curt takes a deep breath and looks Bucky in the eye. “Just a second,” he says. He finishes fastening the splint, making Bucky grunt in pain again, and then Bucky is alone, focusing too hard on staying upright on the edge of the bed.

When Curt comes back, he has one of the rags they use for cleaning. He squirts some water from his water packet onto it and gently wipes Bucky’s face, then the floor. Then he holds the water towards Bucky. Bucky takes it between his lips and sucks weakly at the straw, feeling instant relief at the way the water coats his throat and washes away the acid taste.

Curt wipes his mouth again, drying up a drop of water below his lower lip. He frowns as he considers Bucky, barely able to handle getting into the first layer of his suit before launch. “This is probably gonna get a whole lot worse,” he tells him. 

—

Gale feels sick.

If Starship liftoff and rendezvous weren’t scheduled for Red Shift, he absolutely would have been here anyways. But, even after everything, he didn’t anticipate how much being in Mission Control would hurt. How much it would physically hurt to know that his husband is confused and sick and in so much pain. How much it would hurt to sit here and bear witness to the unique torture that is launching Bucky off the moon despite all of it.

The moment Gale takes over the console, the first thing he hears is a weak voice crackling over the coms. “Gale?”

“I’m here,” he says. He wants to reach across space and time, hold Bucky to him and shelter him from everything that’s about to happen. He thinks, for the first time, that perhaps being unconscious was the most merciful thing for the Artemis 3 Commander these past few days. Perhaps he’d been selfish, wanting so badly for his husband to wake up. Because how is this any better?

The next thing he hears is a quiet sob, a voiceless scream that didn’t have the power to truly make a sound, as Curt tried to get Bucky’s bad leg into the OCS suit. Gale has to shut his eyes for a moment and take a breath, push past the bile rising in his throat at the sound of John in anguish. The completely irrational part of his brain wants to shut this whole operation down, make everyone stop what they’re doing, stop subjecting his husband to this abuse. The rest of him knows that that isn’t an option. They have to get this launch right, and they have to get it right now, excruciating pain be damned. So he holds his breath to keep the pieces of his shattered heart from overflowing right onto his console, because if he can’t deal with listening to Bucky’s suffering, then he can’t be here at all.

It’s not fair, but it’s what this job requires. As long as he is in Mission Control, he needs to put on a brave face, play Major Buck Cleven. 

When he finally opens his eyes again and looks around the room, every flight controller is looking right at him. Painted on their faces is sorrow and pity, for him and for John, two of NASA’s most unassailable forces being shoved through Hell but fighting through it for each other. He looks at each of them, and he holds his head high, even as he swallows thickly to keep the tears stinging the backs of his eyes from welling up right here and now.

“Gale?” Bucky says again, his voice weak and thick and begging for something that Gale can’t give him.

And in that moment, Gale makes a decision. The only way to get John through this is to make room for both of them – Major Buck Cleven and Gale Cleven. He’ll be as strong as he has to; he’ll get these boys through this if it kills him. But in the end, even if the mission needs Buck at the helm, Bucky needs him. His husband. 

So he tries out a watery, encouraging smile even though Bucky can’t see his face, and he softens his voice, like it’s just him and John, no one else. “I’m here,” he says again. “I know it hurts, darling. I’m sorry we’re making you do this. But it’s the only way to get you home.”

—

Curt managed, somehow, to get Bucky all set in his suit, even as Bucky cried out in agony and tried to push him away. Curt doesn’t know if it was easier or harder when Bucky started to get all disoriented, fading in and out of consciousness. He gave up fighting, but it left Curt trying to single handedly shove his body into the most complicated outfit known to man. “I’m sorry,” Curt kept saying, wincing every time Bucky gasped in pain or flinched away.

As much of an ordeal as it was to get Bucky dressed, it was nearly as difficult for Curt to dress himself. On launch day at KSC – a day that feels so terribly long ago now – they had a whole team of suit techs, specially trained to help them get into these OCS suits. They helped the astronauts put on every layer, checked the fit and positioning of every single component, triple checked every seal and zipper to make sure not a thing was out of place and everything was as comfortable as possible. Even up in space or on the moon, the astronauts are trained to help each other so no one ever has to try to get themselves into the suit without another set of hands and eyes. It is not, by any means, a task that they are meant to accomplish on their own. And Curt has quickly learned that the hard way.

He manages, though, and finally returns to the console to finish preparing for launch. Before getting himself suited up, he had to carry Bucky across the cabin bridal-style in order to settle him into one of the seats and strap him in. “Now, don’t you fuckin’ touch anything,” he instructs, pointing a finger at Bucky. “Look at me.”

Bucky tilts his head a little and his eyes slowly roam over to see Curt beside him. Curt can see it all on his face: the joke he wants to make, the stubbornness he doesn’t want to leave behind. I’m your commander, show some respect, he probably wants to say. This is my ship as much as it is yours.

But even John Egan isn’t stubborn or egoistic enough to think he can fly a spaceship when he can barely move or talk, when his brain keeps going all foggy and he can barely stay awake. The look on his face also tells Curt that he’s angry, he’s sad, he’s in pain both physically and emotionally. It says, Am I still the commander of this mission if I’m no more use than a goddamn toddler?

So Curt gives him his best reassuring smile. “You just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride, Commander.” Bucky rolls his eyes, but the expression on his face eases into something less unsettled.

Luckily, Mission Control had foreseen the difficulties in suiting up, and they scheduled plenty of time into their morning for accomplishing a task that really shouldn’t have been harder than literal rocket science and yet managed to be just that. Before taking on that endeavor, Curt spent much of the morning preparing Starship for takeoff. Another task that was not meant to be accomplished by one person alone.

He never got to do his last EVA to retrieve their plants.

He lets himself look out the window one more time before he has to strap himself in. He can see the LEAF greenhouse far in the distance, and he presses his hand to the thick glass. He’d been really, really hoping for that one last moonwalk. That last chance to bound across the peaceful emptiness of the lunar surface, to take in the views he’s dreamed about since he was a kid. He really wanted to be able to bring home their little crops, the first living things to be born and to grow on the moon. But Bucky just wasn’t in a good enough place to be left alone for so long. No one could be sure if or when another seizure would occur, like a monster lurking in the darkness. And no one was confident that Bucky would be able to communicate his needs in Curt’s absence, or that he wouldn’t get agitated and accidentally hurt himself.

Curt doesn’t feel angry anymore. He might later, when it all catches up to him again. Now he’s just a little sad. A little disappointed. He looks out at the moon, at the Earthrise on the horizon, the stars in the sky, the vast expanse of fine rock and rubble that calls to him. He knows Bucky dreamed of the exact same thing. Neither of them are alone.

When he looks back at his commander, Bucky is watching him. His voice is quiet and scratchy, slow and unsure, but Curt can hear him over the coms. “Plants?” His eyes alone say more than that one word ever could. I’m sorry.

Curt smiles sadly and shrugs. “I’ll tell your husband to get them on Four.”

Then he nods to himself, looks at the console in front of him, and asks Houston for a launch checklist.

—

Shortly before takeoff, Gale is biting at his thumbnail in anticipation as he listens to the other flight controllers give their go/no-go. Typically, Curt and Bucky would have run through their pre-launch checklist together, only referencing Houston if they needed clarification on something. With Bucky unable to do much of anything, Gale had to take Curt through the checklist himself. He scans through the hard-copy packet of instructions in front of him, triple checking that he didn’t miss anything.

He pauses, his finger pressed with too much force to a line of text that smears ink on his skin, when he hears Bucky’s small voice coming over coms again.

Bucky: “Gale?”

Gale: “I’m here, darling.”

He can hear it: Bucky sounds nervous. Gale can’t seem to decide if he should smile or frown. On one hand, Bucky is awake, coherent, thinking, talking. On the other, Gale knows he’s scared. And John Egan and scared are not words that seem like they should fit in the same sentence.

He wonders how much of this makes sense to Bucky right now. He wonders if he knows how much this is all about to hurt, even more than it already does. He wonders if knowing in advance would make it better or worse, or if the fear etched into Bucky’s voice is simply because everything happening around him is already too much.

Gale: “He okay, Curt?”

Curt: “Think so. A little agitated, but I think he just wants to know you’re there.”

Dr. Huston informs him that this situation is extremely stress-inducing for Bucky, who is still not fully aware of what’s going on and is in a lot of pain. It’s natural for him to be seeking comfort. He’s reaching out because he doesn’t feel safe. And no matter what state he’s in, he seems to associate Gale with safe.  

Gale has to fight back tears once again.

Gale: “I’m here, John. I love you.”

In the silence that follows, he can feel the words Bucky can’t actually say in his mind. I love you more, angel. Gale sips his coffee and looks across the room at Marge, who catches his eye and gives him a thumbs up.

Clark starts counting down. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.

—

Curt mutters under his breath.  “Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Liftoff.”

The Starship engines shake the entire silver tower, jostling Curt in his seat. They could do as many simulations as they wanted, but nothing compares to the real thing. Even in partial gravity, the ship has a shocking amount of power. He watches moon dust kick up in a billowing cloud around them as they start to rise.

Bucky: “Gale?” 

He sounds agitated again, and Curt can see his gloved hand trying to grab onto something, searching for stability. Curt reaches his hand out and squeezes Bucky’s fingers to let him know it’s okay. He wonders how excruciating this aggressive shaking feels when you’re coping with a traumatic brain injury. He doesn’t want to know.

Gale: “I’m here.”

Curt: “We’re going! 600 feet and climbing.”

The official mission transcript will indicate that something unintelligible was said, but Curt hears when Bucky says “pitch.”

Curt: “Yeah, we have pitchover. Right on time. Hear that, Gale?”

Gale: “I heard. Thank you Major Egan.”

Typically, this is the point in the launch when Curt would say something like what a fuckin’ ride , but he’s too nervous about the potential for Bucky to simply disintegrate into dust beside him, lost to the lunar sky. Stars from which we came, stars to which we will return.

Curt: “Alex, Rosie, we’re on our way to you. Heat us up somethin’ nice to eat would ya?”

Alex: “Want me to set the table, too?”

Curt: “That’d be great, honey… Trajectory good.”

Gale: “Trajectory good. Systems nominal.”

Curt: “Copy.” 

Gale: “Alex, I want in on whatever you’re makin’.”

Alex: “I’ve got chicken ‘n rice. And wheat chex. I’d stick with whatever you have earthside, Major.”

Curt shifts his gaze back and forth between the rising trajectory displayed on the screen in front of him and the rapidly descending darkness out his window. They’re nearing 5,000 feet, velocity approaching 400 feet per second. Rate of ascent right where it should be. 

Curt: “Right on the H-dot. Goin’ up as expected. One minute.”

Gale: “Starship, you’re go at one minute. Lookin’ good.”

Curt: “AGS and PGNS agree.”

Bucky: “Gale?” 

Gale: “I’m here, John. You okay?”

There’s a garbled groan through the coms, and Curt glances over. He recognizes the weird, twisted expression on Bucky’s face immediately, the way the commander shifts uncomfortably in his seat. 

Curt: “No. No no no. Do not be sick right now.”

Another groan. Bucky doesn’t have anything in him to throw up except for bile, but either way, vomit is the absolute last thing you want in your helmet. Once they hit zero G and things start floating… well, Curt is concerned Bucky won’t have the wherewithal to keep himself from choking on it. 

Gale: “He doin’ okay, Curt?”

Curt: “Drink your water. Drink your damn water.”

Curt reaches a hand out to pat Bucky aggressively on the shoulder and then motions to the little straw sticking upwards into his helmet out of the neck ring. While they were suiting up, he even figured out a way to stick it up a little higher so Bucky doesn’t have to duck down so much to get at it. “Water,” he says again.

Bucky’s eyes follow his finger and try to see the straw, not really remembering where it is or what he’s supposed to do. Water. He doesn’t see how he’s supposed to get water out of that, but he ducks his head down and struggles to get it between his lips. He cries softly in frustration as the nausea rolls through him, but he manages, feeling cold water rush into his mouth faster than he was prepared for. He coughs a little as it dribbles down his throat, but he manages to swallow. Curt nods and pats him on the shoulder again.

Curt: “You’re gonna be alright. Just don’t fuckin’ throw up in there.”

—

“Trajectory nominal,” Croz reports. “We’re on target.”

Gale doesn’t even realize he’s standing, probably has been for a while, with one hand on his hip and the other pressed to his lips, until Croz looks up and asks him if he’s alright. Only then does Gale notice that he’s paced a few steps away from his console and is standing on Croz’s other side, behind Bubbles. With an unconvincing nod, he runs a hand through his hair and wanders back over to his own desk. He picks up his fourth cup of coffee of the day and frowns when he realizes it’s empty.

Gale: “Coming up on three. We have you at 15,000 feet per second.”

Curt: “Lookin’ damn good here. 22,000 feet and a sky full of stars out our window.”

Gale: “Targeting good. How’s-”

Bucky: “Gale.”

The twisted, pained way Bucky cries his name is another icy stab to Gale’s heart, and it stops him cold where he’s standing behind his console. He rubs his hand over his face before pressing his wedding ring to his lips and closing his eyes. Breathe. He flexes his right hand, feels the scabs tug at the skin. This morning, Dr. Huston had tried to prepare him, telling him that the pain Bucky would feel during launch would probably be excruciating. That if Bucky could communicate that, it would rip Gale apart and make him feel like the worst person in the world for forcing him through this.

But it’s no one’s fault. It’s what has to happen. Gale just needs to breathe and work through it.

Gale: “I’m here, darlin’. It’s gonna be alright. Close your eyes and breathe for me.”

Rosie, listening in from Orion, jumps in. 

Rosie: “I know it hurts, Bucky. I want you to know it’s alright if you pass out.” 

Bucky moans in response.

Gale asks Dr. Huston about John’s vitals, and the flight surgeon reports that his heart rate is high but that’s to be expected from the stress alone. He’s not concerned yet.

Bucky: “Buck.” Softer now, but the scared and defeated cry is almost harder to bear.

Gale: “I’m right here with you… Four minutes. Go at four minutes.”

Curt: “Pringles can is stayin’ strong. Hear that, John?” 

—

Liftoff from the moon is something Bucky used to dream of. He’d stand at the top of his swing set, like the little peaked canopy above him was the nose of his ship, and he’d pretend he was launching towards the stars. He’d pretend the ground below him was made of moon dust, his own footsteps visible on the surface as he ascended higher and higher and higher until the world was nothing but a speck beneath him. “We’re lookin’ good, Houston,” he’d say, mimicking his heroes of the Apollo and Shuttle eras. “Right on target. Oh man it’s beautiful.”

He keeps trying to look out the window now, at that sky full of stars. That infinity that leads to nowhere and everywhere at the same time. His vision keeps fading in and out, though. Curt’s trying to talk to him but he can’t think straight.

His leg hurts. He doesn’t quite remember why. He tries to say Gale’s name, but he can’t.

His head feels… bad. 

It’s hard to breathe.

A sky full of stars.

He pretends he’s one of them.

—

Gale: “Go at six. Doin’ okay?”

Curt: “Good here. Coming up on ascent termination. Bucky?.... Bucky?”

Silence.

Curt reaches a hand out and puts it on Bucky’s shoulder, then his chest. He shakes him gently. He leans forward as much as he can and sees Bucky’s head flopped to the side, lax against the inside of his helmet.

Curt: “He’s out, Buck.”

Gale: “Probably better for him.”

Curt frowns, even though he agrees. He’d rather Bucky be unconscious than in unbearable pain. But he misses having his commander at his side, sass and all.

He lets his hand drop away from Bucky’s body, and he listens to Gale giving him a countdown to engine shut-off over coms. A job that Bucky should be doing.

Gale: “Three. Two. One.”

Curt: “Ascent terminated.”

—

Bucky pops in and out of consciousness over the next several hours, sometimes perfectly aware and sometimes confused and agitated. Sometimes he speaks, and sometimes he stares in silence out the window, wondering where he’d end up if he just kept drifting forever. Here am I floating ‘round my tin can, far above the moon.

When they hit zero gravity, their indicator floats up in front of their faces. Beary Egan remained on Orion. On Starship they have the little Earth plush that SpaceX often uses on their spacecraft. It bumps Bucky’s helmet, and he smiles the littlest bit. It makes Curt laugh as he watches Bucky slowly reach a hand up to poke the plush toy, watching it drift away. For a moment, there’s no pain, no fear, no worries. Bucky is just John Egan again. Mission commander. That same little boy who is just excited to be in outer space.

One time he glances at the trajectory displayed on the console in front of them, and in a moment of lucidity, he says “Good.” Curt gives him a thumbs up.

One time he looks at it and notices they’re angled the littlest bit off course, and he says “Curt,” as he tries to point at the screen.

“I know, bud,” Curt tells him as he works on adjusting their position.

One time he groans as bile rises in his throat and he has to close his eyes again, force himself to swallow the acid-tasting liquid and wash it down with a small sip of water. That happens a few more times on their journey, with varying levels of concern.

Sometimes all he does is pop his eyes open, cry out Gale’s name, and wait for his husband to tell him that he’s still there.

“Leg,” he moans at one point. Curt has to reach across and smack him to get him to stop trying to reach down to mess with his leg. Rosie tells him they’ll pump him full of pain meds as soon as he’s onboard Orion.

Curt doesn’t know if it would be easier or harder to shift Bucky from the lander to Orion when he’s unconscious. But it’s not his choice to make. Soon after Curt and Alex maneuver their ships into docking position and make contact, White Shift enters Mission Control. Gale discusses with Bucky at length – a mostly one-sided conversation – that he’s going off console for the night. That he’s going to go get something to eat, get some rest, see their dogs, and he’ll talk to Bucky again in the morning. No one knows if Bucky understands. 

While Curt conducts his post-docking cabin inspection and prepares for transfer to the crew capsule, Bucky wakes up again.

“Gale?” he says. He doesn’t sound so pained anymore, but his voice carries a distinct fear and need for comfort that kills Curt to hear.

The voice that comes back isn’t his husband’s. It’s Helen, gently reminding Bucky that Gale is off shift now. 

Bucky goes quiet. Curt watches his eyes drift closed, a frown on his face. Rosie and Alex have to help maneuver his unconscious body through the hatch.

—

Even when he was just an awkward teenager in high school, still growing into the good looks that made the girls swoon, Gale knew that he would become a military man. Not only was it in his blood, but it was the only way he could afford to get to college. The only way he could afford to get out of the town that trapped him in his father’s misfortunes. 

He always imagined himself marrying some nice girl with a stable, predictable job. Someone who he could count on coming home to. Someone who he could love and who could love him just as much. Someone who could give him a family. Someone, somewhere, who he didn’t have to worry about staying safe, staying alive. 

For a long time, everyone, including him, thought that was Marge.

But well into his teenage years, during that tumultuous time when everything feels like a big deal and you’re trying so hard to figure out who you are, who you were, and who you want to be, he realized something. He didn’t love Marge like that. He didn’t particularly like girls at all. He found himself more interested in the boys around him. The hot football player with the kind smile who sat next to him in world history and made Gale, just for half a second, try to vaguely understand sports. The lead in the school musical who sometimes asked Gale for help with his homework in calculus. The cute exchange student with the adorable accent in his French class, who would compliment Gale on his pronunciation.

Okay.

So, not a girl, then. Some nice guy, perhaps. Some nice guy with a normal, stable, non-military, non-perilous job who Gale could come home to. Who he didn’t have to constantly worry about being in danger. That’s what Gale wanted.

And then he started college, and an absolute whirlwind named John Egan crashed into his life with all the subtlety of a category 4 hurricane. Gale tried his best not to fall for him, he really did. But it was absolutely hopeless from the very first time Bucky smiled at him, bright as the sun. He held out for a while, refusing John’s advances for months even as he secretly hoped the cute brown-haired boy with the broad shoulders and the irresistible smile and the wild personality wouldn’t give up.

He didn’t.

Because both of them were a little bit in love from that very first day. And Gale had to admit that his plans for someone stable, someone reliable, someone safe, had to be thrown out the window.

Because Bucky Egan was the complete opposite of everything Gale had ever hoped for.

He knew the risks. He keeps reminding himself of that. He knew the risks, but he just couldn’t stop himself from falling anyways. Just two boys – young men – who looked danger in the eye and laughed in its face, saw it as something to conquer for themselves. Two people with stars in their eyes and the sky in their hearts, trying their best to ground each other even when neither of them can seem to keep their feet on solid Earth.

He’s seen John off into danger more times than he can count. It’s gone both ways. They’ve gone months without seeing each other, weeks without knowing where the other was or if they were safe. They’ve waited with bated breath for someone to show up on their doorstep with the worst news imaginable. But it never came.

They’ve always come home to each other, because there is simply no other choice.

So Gale stands outside in his front yard as the sun sets over Nassau Bay. It physically pained him to tell Bucky that he was going off shift, especially when he couldn’t tell if Bucky understood. Or if he’d wake up again in an hour and Gale would be gone and he wouldn’t know why. Wouldn’t know why he’d left, why he’d abandoned him. Gale sat at that console with his head in his hands, wondering if he should stay. He sat there well past the end of his shift. Well past handing Helen the headset. He sat there until Harding gently pulled him up, wrapped him in his arms, and told him, “You need to go home, son. We’ll take care of him.” 

So he left, and now he’s here, still not convinced that it was the right thing to do. He ate half of the sandwich that Marge made for him but couldn’t stomach the rest. He paced his living room, fighting the urge to turn on the news, to watch the press conference that Marge had moderated earlier in the afternoon. He broke open the scabs on his hands once again because he couldn’t stop picking at them, smearing blood across his face when he rubbed tiredly at his eyes. Marge had to wipe it off. He chucked his phone across the room because he couldn’t bear the way that it taunted him, inviting him to scroll social media or stare obsessively at the wedding photos that he still hasn’t been able to look through. It scared the dogs when the phone hit the wall, and it strangled his heart in a way that made him collapse to the floor all over again, angry and frustrated and scared. 

Things are looking up, so why is he still so damn scared?  

But the dogs came back. They crawled up beside him, Pepper with her head in his lap and Meatball nudging gently at his bloody hand. And they sat there together, a family waiting for dad to come home, until Marge took his hand and insisted that he needed fresh air. 

So now they’re here, in his front yard as night falls upon them. Marge stands beside him, holding him up with her presence alone, the dogs sitting at their feet. Across the road, a door opens, and Maggie runs towards them, her red curls bouncing against her back as she skips across the road. A broad smile is on her face, but she grows somber when she sees the sadness on Gale’s.

Carefully, she takes his hand in her own, little fingers gripping his, and all of them look together towards the horizon.

“Is John coming home soon?” the girl asks.

Gale closes his eyes and holds his breath. He feels Maggie squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back. Marge wraps an arm around him, whispers the word breathe as she does.

“Yeah, Mags,” Gale finally says. “He’ll come home soon.” He has to.

As blacks and blues spread like ink over the sky, Marge points to a dim sliver of light above. The little hint of a crescent moon peeks out of the darkness, finally visible for the first time since Benny woke Gale in the night what seems like forever ago. It’s a moon that John is no longer on, just like he’s not on this Earth. Instead, he’s somewhere in between, floating in the beautiful, unpredictable void of the great infinity up above. A flicker among that sky of stars.

He’s somewhere up there, back aboard Orion once again.

Because he’s going to come home.

---

---

Part 15

Terms:

H-dot: time derivative of height (the rate of ascent) AGS: abort guidance system PGNS: primary guidance and navigation system (pronounced 'pings')

[bts-0t-7]

Tonight | KSJ | Chapter 3

Pair: Seokjin x Hamster Hybrid Reader 

Summary: Dedicating his life to never having another person to count on, to be strong, Seokjin finds himself in the middle of an illegal fighting ring. The person he wanted to erase was just at his fingertips but he was slipping. No, he was leaving. He was accepting a change and he was afraid. 

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid, non-idol au, detective, smut, abuse (sensitive topic)

Warnings: abuse, self-harm, self-degration, lots of lying and miscommunications

WC: 2.9K

“So here are her prescribed medications. The dosages are stated on the stickers on the packets and these are the pills for her upcoming heat.” The rejectionist goes through each medication with Seokjin. “I heard that you had a male hybrid before?” 

Seokjin nodded.

“Right, so heats are similar to ruts. Essentially the same thing, just a different name for a different gender.” 

Seokjin nodded. 

“Based on how long Ms L/N has recounted her last heat, the injection today is to try and stabilise her hormones. Therefore, it may induce an early heat. Ultimately, it should arrive in about a week or so.” The receptionist handed Seokjin some brochures. “So the total for today would be $357.”

Seokjin was quick to complete the transaction and take you out of Hobi’s arms again. He could sense from the time you got injected, that you were getting angsty. As Hobi drove back to the apartment, Seokjin was sifting through your medications again, reading them carefully. He grasped a few things from learning from Taehyung about medicines. He came across the brochures and the box of heat suppressants. 

Seokjin vaguely recalled Jimin using them but Jimin never did like to. He often took rut leaves and then extra classes once they were over. He recalled Jimin saying that they often make his after-rut hormones haywire. So as Seokjin stared at the 10 centimeters by 2 centimeters box in his hands, he wished that Jimin was still here with him to help him through the choices. But even more, he wished that you had somebody to confide in and wished to see Jimin happy with another hybrid one. 

Seokjin may be ‘allergic to seriousness’ as he likes to tell others but when it comes down to certain people and situations, he would be all on board for it. Hybrids have soulmates. They say due to the constant cross-breeding that they have a lesser chance to find their own nowadays. Jealous as he may be, Seokjin had always wished for Jimin to find his. A day that could have been celebrated with all the joy in the world vanished in the blink of an eye. A future of everything burst into flames that very moment Seokjin had allowed him to go out. 

Your fault. 

Yes, it was. 

Death threats hung high for Jimin but he had always looked into the future more than the past. He had worked harder than Seokjin had ever seen anybody work. And he still allowed him to go out when the whole world was against him then. Seokjin rubbed his face and sighed into his hands. Peeking through his fingers, he saw you looking up at him, nose constantly twitching.

Seokjin brought his hands down and held his palm up to you. Surprisingly, you accepted it and jumped into his hold, letting him stroke you from head to snout.  Your small body vibrated in his hold and he was a little worried about how much you could take before a limb popped out of place. But he was glad that you allowed him to even come close to you despite the mishap he had with you earlier in the day. He has to find a way to make it up to you for that situation. 

As Hobi stopped the car outside the private lift, he turned around and asked, “Need any help, Hyung?” 

Seokjin shook his head. “All’s good. Thanks for driving.”

“No probs. Call if you need.”

Seokjin nodded his thanks, scoping all your belongings together with him. By now, you had made your way into the snugly hoop of his hoodie. Seokjin could feel your weight pulling and was very much aware of your consistent breathing against his back. Silently, he opened the front door,  placed your clothes on the edge of the sofa, and set the medication in their respective boxes. Sifting through the groceries in the fridge, Seokjin decided to whip up a quick makguksu(막국수). 

Seokjin placed a pot of water on the induction cooker and took out all the ingredients he needed. Bell peppers, cabbage, carrots, chicken breast, and more. First, he made the sauce for the noodles by adding red chilli powder, chicken broth, onion, pear, radish, soy sauce, sesame oil, yellow mustard, more salt, Maesil syrup, and of course sugar to combat the saltiness. He mixed them all together and placed them in the refrigerator after wrapping them. The now fully boiled chicken breast sits in the bowl Seokjin placed it in to cool down. He quickly gets to work by tearing the chicken into thin slices and chopping the vegetables. The buckwheat noodles were then flung against the wall and yes, they stuck. 

So Seokjin washed them under cool water and plated them in a low bowl. Taking the sauce out of the fridge, Seokjin drizzled it over the ingredients and with a flourish, garnished it with a single coriander. He placed all the dishes in the sink before bringing the bowls into the living room. Setting a cup of mixed berry juice for you, Seokjin returned to the kitchen to pick his soju-flavoured poison for the night. As he sat on the sofa, he slowly plucked you from the hood of his hoodie, setting your now fussy being on the carpet. Your teeth chittered together and you squirmed around, a voice of disgruntled leaving your maw. 

“Come on now… Dinner, dinner.” Seokjin mixed your noodles. You whined, shifting into your human counterpart so as to have a proper meal. 

You had learnt to understand Mr Park a little more during your visit to the doctor’s. 

He had a calico cat hybrid that was coincidentally named Jimin and had passed away a few years ago in a car accident. Mr Park did not go into details of the accident but you could feel the sorrow leaving him in waves. 

He must have really loved his hybrid. 

He had explained to the doctors the situation of your bidding and the triggers he thinks you have - which are surprisingly accurate that you didn’t even know them yourself. It was only when the doctors took you out of your little cocoon in the blanket that you hissed at them. Mr Park started placating with you, trying to give you the toy instead but you outright refused it. You wanted the blanket. You wanted to burrow in it. Sink in the oh-so-familiar scent. The cat was covered in the same exact scent. 

Jimin, Jimin, Jimin. 

Your silent bestfriend.  

No, no. It couldn’t be. 

You refused to believe that the highest possibility was him until you had hard evidence. 

Mr Park managed to somewhat calm you down but the moment they brought out the needle, started to grow fussy and move about. You didn’t want to be injected with any more synthetic hormones. You wanted to be normal.

Is it so hard to ask? A normal life?

You bit the doctor’s finger as you scurried away, jumping right back into the folds of the blanket when you were suddenly ripped away from it again. 

No, no, no. 

You fussed, pushed, bit, scratched, anything and everything. A loud yell stops you dead in your tracks. Looking up, you saw Mr Park holding his fingers in a fist. You whimpered. You didn’t mean to. 

Sorry, sorry, sorry. 

You whimpered louder, trying to convey your message. You were suddenly yanked back and you panicked. Just then, Mr. Park stopped the doctors. 

“Enough.”

Nobody moved. 

Mr. Park walked over to you and scooped you up, wrapping the blanket over you like it was your safety blanket. You relished in the familiar material you had known for forever. Mr Park placed you down together with you wrapped up cosily in the blanket and placed the stuffed cat in front of you as well. 

“These injections are to help you regulate your hormones. With all the synthetic hormones that did not belong to your type constantly being pumped into you, your side effects act up so often that you don’t even realise them. These few jabs will help neutralise most of them and then we will leave the rest to nature’s work, yeah? One is for flu, one is for general viruses in hybrids, and the last one is for regulation.” Mr Park held out the finger you bit him on, placing it in front of you. “Deal? I promise there are no more than three shots and none of the reasoning I haven’t already listed out.” You placed your tiny paw on his finger. 

Truce.

The doctors have done a quick work at giving you the respective injections and just like Mr Park had truly promised, there was no more than three. You were quick to get drowsy in the warmth of Mr Park’s hoodie that it blinded you when he picked you out of it. 

You were not truly awake and had trouble lifting the spoon without your head almost falling into the bowl any second. It wasn’t until you felt something at your lips that you instinctively squinted up. The nudge on your lip was enough indication for you to open your mouth. 

Eat.

You could’ve moaned at how good it tasted - hopped high enough to be thought of as a bunny - if you had enough energy. Now, you gave Mr. Park a sleepy nod. If the food was poisoned, at least you would die with a happy, delicious last meal. You were much too tired to care right now. Mr Park continuously fed you until you stopped him, mouth full of food you have yet to swallow as you were too full. You heard soft chuckles coming from him. 

“Okay. I’ll finish the rest. Eat what you have in your mouth and you can sleep.”

Sleep.

Sleep sounded amazing indeed. 

You had woken up on the sofa in the living room with a few more blankets on top of you. Mr Park was nowhere to be found and the room was pitch black. As a hamster, your animal counterpart is nocturnal and sometimes it comes in extremely handy. Unfortunately, it was not a skill you like to have during rainy days. The curtains of the living room were not closed and as lightning struck too close for comfort, you got a full view of it. The sudden attack of bright lights blinded you as heavy thunder echoed through the house. You squeaked out, burying yourself under the covers in an attempt to block out the noises. The rain got heavier and the harsh sounds of raindrops hitting the roof and window sills had you vibrating under the layers. 

As the next lightning struck, you sprinted out of your shell and bounded over to Mr. Park’s room. You had wished that you wouldn’t give in so easily but there was nothing about Mr. Park that made you feel… unwanted.

For now. 

You knew as time passed, things would go back to how they were with all your other owners. However, you’ve always treasured fond memories with humans, giving you a serving reminder that there is still good in people. 

Situations can never say how a person may react. 

Perhaps because you were hip-to-hip attached to one of the most empathetic hybrids in the facility while growing up, but you never changed your point of view of people. Yes, as situations start to deteriorate, you learn to close yourself up but when you meet new people you always try to be as open as possible. As the thunder boomed, you squeaked, jumping in the air. Hurrying your steps, you were glad to have found Mr Park’s door open. Quickly sliding through the tiny gap between the wall and the door, you rounded circles on the floor with your blanket in tow. Making quick work of a makeshift bed, you huddled in your little barrier and fell back asleep. 

At least you had some form of comfort that you weren’t alone in the storm. 

The second time you were woken up was by the feeling of being lifted up. You felt your head roll between two large palms that placed you on a soft cushion before leaving you. You recognized the heavy scent the place permeates. 

Fig and cedar - a woody and calming scent. 

Mr Park’s scent. 

You snuggled deeper into the silky material you were placed in you let yourself be pulled back into the dreamland. 

Seokjin had woken up in the middle of the night when thunder struck, his sleep-muggled brain only thinking about you. Only to nearly step on you as he found you cuddled up beside his bed. Seokjin had carefully picked you up, trying not to wake you, and placed you onto his pillow. Switching his pillow so that you’ll have the one he just laid on, he adjusted the blankets around you and fell back asleep. 

Now, Seokjin was in the process of making breakfast. Well, attempting to make breakfast. It isn’t that he can’t cook but rather he doesn’t know what to cook. He isn’t sure of your allergies, your likes and dislikes, your absolutely loves and hates. Sighing, Seokjin decided to just whip up simple souffle pancakes with some strawberries on the side. 

Seokjin quickly took out all the ingredients he needed - eggs, sugar, milk, almond flour (for easier digestion), and baking powder. 

Seokjin first separated the egg yolks from the egg whites, leaving the remaining unused egg yolks wrapped up in the fridge. He wished the egg yolks with sugar while slowly mixing in the milk. Proportionately sifting the flour and baking powder of the mixture, Seokjin made sure there were no clumps. Then, he placed the egg whites and baking powder in a mixer, slowly whipping them while adding sugar to make a glossy, thick meringue. Taking a third of the meringue, it was placed into the bowl of yolk mixture and Seokjin folded it in until a pale yellow colour. He repeated the process with the remaining meringue. 

Bending down, Seokjin took out a pan from the cabinets, hauling it up with the lid. After heating, he spread a thin layer of oil on the bottom of the pan. Then using an ice cream scooper, he scooped the batter on the pan in batches. Placing the lid over, it cooked for four minutes before opening to add another batch of batter on top of the current one and repeat the process of cooking. After another five minutes, Seokjin flipped the pancakes around and left them to cook for another four minutes. 

Carefully taking them out, Seokjin placed the washed and dried strawberries on top of the pancakes. Deciding that blueberries would do the colouring well, Seokjin took out a box and plated the sides. Only after deciding that they looked good did Seokjin throw the dirty dishes in the sink and head up to wake you. But you weren’t where he left you and he started fricking out, rushing into your room to find you dressed and… struggling to tie your hair?

You had turned to him with wide eyes, hands in your hair, trying to re-arrange them. Guess you were having a bad hair day. Seokjin willed his heart to calm down as he chuckled, slowly walking over to you, hands at his sides. 

“May I?” Seokji gestured to your hair. He didn’t want to overstep your boundaries again. 

You nodded. 

Seokjin braided your hair simply. During the whole time, you were fidgeting with your blankets and your dress, constantly biting your bottom lip. Seokjin’s hands landed on your shoulders after he finished braiding your hair and said, “Stop biting that lip, ham.”

Your brows furrowed. “Ham?” You asked him with the cutest pout on your lips. 

“Yep. It’s easier than two syllables ‘HamHam’ so just ‘Ham’.” 

You looked confused. Where did this come from?

“I am a hamster not a piece of ham.”

Seokjin burst out laughing. “Isn’t it shorter for Ham instead of Hamster?” Seokjin couldn’t stop laughing. You sounded so… pouty. 

“I am not a piece of ham!” 

Seokjin wiped his tears. “Of course, Ham.”

You huffed and jumped out of bed, completely forgetting why you were nervous before. Seokjin was glad to have managed to take your mind off some things. 

“Come on. I made breakfast and we will leave after that.”

“Leave?” You were back to looking scared. 

“Yes. We need to get you a new collar. A comfortable one.” Seokjin explained, hoping that you would understand the need. He hopes that one day, hybrids will be able to walk freely and be their own person rather than having to be dependent on ownership to survive. But for now, it is important for him to stake a claim on you so that you don’t get unnecessarily attacked. 

You nodded and the fumbling of your hands was back. 

“What’s wrong?”

You were hesitant. “Ehm… Wha…What’s for breakfast?”

“Souffé pancakes!” Seokjin beamed. “With as much whipping cream and maple syrup as you want. Of course not forgetting the side of strawberries and blueberries - wait, are you allergic to them?”

You shook your head. 

“Nice!” He held out a hand for you and almost swooned when you accepted it. “Let’s go!”

Hi everyone!!

Sorry for skipping the updates. Unlike Yoongi's fanfic "So What?" This series has not been completed. However, all the chapters posted have been edited and checked. It's currently the peak examination period and I will not be posting as often. This series will be updated every Monday only.

I will try to finish the series amidst the piling reports but no promises for now. I'm sorry 😭😭

One thing for certain is that I will try to give you the best I can:) I hope you all enjoy this series! Thank you for all the love you have given Yoongi's fanfic "So What?" as well. As for the oneshots usually posted on Thursdays, I have a few ready but in need of dire editing. So I hope you guys can give me some time and stay tuned for upcoming works.

Thank you for your patience and support!! 💜

[tailsdollr]

some funny guys I'm deciding to talk their significance because I definitely need to share more about this au!-

firstly if you ever wanna ask anything about leftbound, go ahead. I understand I'm not exactly the best at sharing and may leave things vague. (´ﾟωﾟ｀)

Phonie

Phonie is a copy of Tord that can be found within most areas of the labyrinth albeit rare. It is made off the thought that perhaps everything Tord did was fake all along, and there was nothing between him and Edd.

It has no halo and just wings. Tho they are black like a ravens. It has an outline around it's face where the shell of it will pop out, revealing that it's completely hollow except for eyes. Or at least.. Appears empty.

It will randomly appear and follow you or just full on replace Tord if you are with him. It's appearance is unnoticeable and silent. It will perfectly mimic Tord but in way that is mechanical. Only being able to sag phrases that he has said before.

It can open doorways like how Tord can but instead of leading to a random area of the labyrinth, it leads to nothing but an empty black space.

The Dead

Due to the reincarnation and how Edd, while not on purpose, keeps certain things alive, the dead are in an idle state. Not entirely dead but there as an unused asset to recall.

Reincarnation makes a new body. So all of them are stored here. They are stuck in whatever state they are left in, unable to die. They cannot talk. While most can still sleep and eat in the labyrinth, they cannot do either. Whatever they have that is remnant of their body will try to stabilize into something to mobilize them.

Jon is a special case. Being content with with death. Although he seems to be withering like the others in a shriveled burning paper like way. He can sometimes summon limbs for himself, although not attached. Jon cannot talk like the others, and instead tries to use his limited expression of SL.

Laurel is somewhat an abnormally too. She also has her conscious left and can feel it through the pain. Her goal is to use their new chance at something resembling life and try to find Eduardo. She will be ok knowing he's okay. It'll be a proper goodbye to him, and something hopefully will help him be okay with her death.

Most of the other dead through the state which they have died can only coing onto what's near them for any semblance of hope.

[dxy-drxxm]

SYNOPSIS: Lyney never feared the sight of the tank, but his "Father" changed that for him. (gen. neutral reader) [ IDENTITYV AU ]

CW/s: Drowning (or almost drowning), ooc Lyney? (he's shaken up oops), depiction of Knave! Lyney/Harbinger! Lyney, near death scenario, reader gets hurt in helping survivor! Lyney (part 2 of 3)

The familiar thumping of one's heart was something Lyney is quite used to. To him, as a magician, he would only have those when performing tricks that are impossible— only for them to work as the audience began to shower him with praise.

As an illusionist, he knew well that miracles are akin to magic tricks. That is what he was raised to believe, but outside of his job, there are things far more cruel than he may say.

So when he felt himself getting dunked into the tank his sister used in one of their shows, he felt the air leave him as he was put inside.

He banged on the glass as he saw his Father? leave, the illusion fading into a sight he can discern. He thought it was her?, but the familiar coat and attire betrayed his expectation.

It was… Himself?

… As the Knave.

He felt his eyes widened. Was this suppose to be him?

If Father gets replaced or dies, will he become like this?

The hunter turned his head to see the stunned illusionist, water pouring down to fill up the tank. And for a sheer glance alone, he could see him mouth the following words that shocked his core.

And then, he left.

His siblings are far from where he was chaired. And Heaven forbid will he let them rescue him like this.

The water is filling up to his knees.

Was this the end? He couldn't tell anymore.

After all, he knew he can turn the fates in his favor. He knew that, he was a magician! And by God will he just stop because he's stuck in a water tank!

As he felt his legs grow damp, he began to do anything in his power to get out. He tried to push the lid, perhaps use his own tricks to disappear from the tank.

He wanted to get out of this blasted tank. He was growing desperate.

At times like these, he wished he had his vision on his person.

But alas, no such luck.

His efforts rendered futile, and his desperation gnawed at him alive.

...

It's rising to his waist.

...

He wanted to crumble.

He couldn't hear the faint calling of a familiar voice— and a yelp from the hit by the grim-malkin cat. The one he had from his tricks.

He can vaguely recall how some of his tricks failed. How he and Lynette endured to get a sliver of fame, to even get a chance to perform.

This was one of those times.

He knew this moment awfully well. And the familiar despair began to get to his head.

...

It's rising to his chest.

...

Was this it? Is this the end of the road?

It can't be. I can't die here. I can't.

I can't stop here— why can't I do something? Why is there no exits here?

I can't simply drown in this tank and disappear. I don't want to disappear!

No, no, no—

Please, I need to see my sister again. I need to see my siblings again.

I refuse to sit here, and yet...

... I don't know what to do.

Can I even escape from this glass prison?

Can I escape the same prison I've been destined to be trapped in?

...

Then, it rises to his neck.

…

...

…

The seal of the tank opens.

Two hands grabs him, and with one full swoop, the playwright pulls the illusionist out as a way to rescue him.

Lyney was stunned when he felt the water leave him, and albeit he is dripping, he could smell the scent of parchment and ashes.

(Name).

"Are you okay, Lyney?" he heard them asked, watching as the tank closes but the water level remains the same. "Here," they added, handing him a syringe that they retrieved from the chests.

Am I okay?

"Come on, let's go—"

They yelped and went down as the hunter— himself— loomed over them, sighing.

"Oh, my dear poupée, you should've learned not to turn your back on a hunter!" his hunter identity said, but the playwright turned to wince and glare at him.

"Hah— and you should learn not to be so cocky."

Then, the sirens blared. And detention got ahold of the Knave.

With adrenaline, they shoved the now coherent illusionist.

"Run!" you yelled, grabbing his wrist and pulling him with them out of the big tent. "Detention will last in 2 minutes— and we'll both die if we get caught by him!"

And as soon as the two of you fled, the survivors could hear the ever familiar yet chilling laugh as the Knave is in pursuit of his showstopper.

No man will be left alive.

Not on his watch.

@.enxgmx-wrxtxr | do not republish, repost, or copy my works anywhere | 2023

[mrstsung]

Mortal Kombat imagines x reader fic.

Treasure hunter/Explorer au

PRT 1:

Cw: preset reader. May have mentions or hints of death? Unnamed allies(they will remain unnamed for oc template purposes. So y'all can fill in the blanks yourselves if you would like)

*This is for mk11/mortal kombat 11*

🐉🔥🐲🔥🐉🔥🐲🔥🐉🔥🐲🔥🐉🔥🐲🔥🐉

Imagine you are a treasure hunter or explorer. You travel across the world to find rare,mystical,or even dangerous items or even ancient ruins and places. You've been researching this strange island,curious,you ask of your employers to which the this mysterious island resides. They unfortunately do not know for sure. But they suspect it is either in the south china sea or the east. It's hard to exactly locate or even explain. As the island seems to shift from area to area and sometimes disappear completely from any radar. As if,the island itself has a mind of its own. Creepy. But this doesn't deter you.

You get your grant,gear,and head off. Given to you a map of the rough location of the island you search for. What you may find,you aren't sure. Could be treasures,could be a local who decided to fuck off from society,you chuckle at this thought. Although this could mean danger. Which is why,you brought weapons. The most common logic dictates of a pistol. However,you aren't the one for guns. Plus you've been face to face before with otherworldly things. So a gun won't do good. So instead you opt for a mystical dagger. The dagger of Lung-shii. The dragon dagger. It was given as a gift from a mysterious patron. What it's powers or properties you couldn't quite pinpoint. It was fire magic of some kind,very useful. However it also had an ominous aura around it. As if it speaks to you. Namely the gem at the hilt of the blades handled end.

Many thoughts race through your mind as you are traveling with your group. In a private personal plane,the only other way was a boat,and your last adventure didn't do well with water. And you don't wanna risk get shot overboard with your small crew.

A group of 5 in total,not counting yourself. 3 women,2 men. One was very bear like a burly. A strong man. Heavy beard. Almost a cross between a santa claus type and a wwe wrestler. The other man was an old man,he was from hong kong and a linguistic professor. He was also a translator,he also happened to be a former master at a temple,shaolin perhaps. Though you could understand mandarin and Cantonese dialect. You couldn't read it well. Ah such as life. He often joined your adventures,he was like a grandfather to you. A kind but wise man. You often hanged out inbetween these adventures too and often visited. The 3 women with you. Was a veteran from a group called the special forces. A rag tag group of military officers. They used to be a branch but only used for certain missions and your employers thought she would be a good help. Due to her having previous knowledge of the island. She was here before,with her officers Lt. Sonya Blade and Com. Jaxxson Briggs, but only vaguely remembered....she recalls of horror,a death tournament,and dark magics. Thought you were taken aback,you weren't intimidated,if fact this only entices you to explore further.

The 2nd woman was the pilot of the plane whom stayed behind with the plane. Making sure it stayed in contact with your group. And the 3rd woman....a strange woman with black and red hair. And an odd tattoo. Of a dragon with a dagger running through it. She was with the ex special forces woman. Yeah,you kinda thought about them being part of some underground stuff. But you needed them because of their knowledge of the place.

The old man sat next to you on the plane. Calming your nerves. Reassurance from him always made you feel better. As you approach the island you can feel a shift in the air. It feels odd. The plane lands on an outcropping near the beach shore. As you get off with your companions.

You take in the air. It feels calm oddly. Like you know the place. But you've never been here. It feels welcoming to you. Almost....beckoning. you noticed the little gem at the end of you dagger in its sheeth glow slightly....odd....it never did that before. You brush it off.

You stare at the island before you,lush green foliage. And an old somewhat crumbling staircase. Well....no turning back now. The only way was forward and up.

So up you went. With your group behind you and the ex SF woman. You climb the long and winding staircase. Finally when you reach the top to catch your breath. A door lays before all of you.

An old door,of ancient chinese origin. Red and faded gold lines it. With intricate details of two dragons fighting among a thunderstorm. One black,garnet red and gold. The other white,silver and sapphire blue. It was beautiful.

What lays beyond it.....one can only imagine.

🐉🔥🐲🔥🐉🔥🐲🔥🐉🔥🐲🔥🐉🔥🐲🔥🐉

Stay tuned for part 2!

[rollfordexterity]

wrote a statement fic in transcript format that takes place in The Entwined Archives, a tma au that myself and the wonderful @simcardiac-arrested came up with! the characters featured are their ocs and can be found on the askblog @dj-wayback. this au obviously is not canon compliant to the original askblog (and no, it's not really canon compliant to tma either, but there are a few minor spoilers). big spoilers for cream's askblog though. fic is under the cut, trigger warnings are listed below

List of content warnings: abuse, graphic animal abuse, animal experimentation, dehumanisation, unethical science, overworking and burnout, hallucinations, dissociation, migraines, shock (medical), burning, descriptions of death by immolation, toxic workplace environment, canon-typical Buried and Desolation content, slightly implied cannibalism (kinda), emetophobia, suffocation, gore, blood, memory loss

Stress Testing

INT. NEEDLESS SEPARATION’S SMALL FLAT - NIGHT, RAINING (TAPE RECORDER)

NEEDLESS SEPARATION

(slightly frantic, almost whispered) …Is this working? Good. I need to - I just - I have to record this somehow. I need to be sure of this. There’s something wrong, it’s all missing, I am all missing, and if I do not say this now it might go missing too. I don’t know what happened but it’s all gone.

[BEAT. THEY TAKE A MOMENT TO COMPOSE THEMSELF.]

I… my apologies. These are not the ramblings of a drunkard or a child with an overactive imagination, I swear it. My memory of these events is lacking, I will admit, but I know that something happened, even if I cannot prove it. I was perfectly healthy before, I would not just hallucinate this, no matter what the doctors may believe.

I should start at the beginning. This started… up to six months ago, I believe. Possibly longer. My sense of time is quite distorted now. At the time, I was fresh out of school, having just completed my Masters in Theoretical Physics. It was a competitive field, but I did eventually manage to find a position as a research assistant with the company Transcendent Life Labs. The job description was a little vague, but I applied anyway, and after an unexpectedly short interview process I was hired. It was mostly the standard interview fare, about work ethic and prioritisation, strengths and weaknesses, et cetera, but there were a number of more personal questions. Asking about my social life, my hobbies, that sort of thing. It did strike me as a little odd, but some workplaces do have a more casual atmosphere.

The supervisor I was assigned to was an accomplished scientist named Finite Waves. My position as their assistant meant that I worked directly with them at an isolated research facility for some time. There was barely anything for miles around and no roads, so I had to stay at the facility in a small room. I had few personal effects, but I did not mind so much given that I did not spend much time there anyway. As we were located quite far out, the lab’s surroundings were surprisingly untouched by people and I faintly recall thinking it was quite beautiful. The other researchers were generally affable, though I rarely interacted with them. Admittedly, the cafeteria food was... lacking, and usually a little burnt, but it was altogether not an unpleasant environment at first.

Finite Waves’ research was about critical phenomena in natural sciences. Critical points are a concept originally from thermodynamics: the point at which a liquid and a vapour can coexist. If you increase the pressure, the equilibrium is broken and the vapour will condense to a liquid. A simple comparison might be that friction can build up at a tectonic fault until it has to give, resulting in earthquakes. There is an idea in criticality that the brain might operate in a similar way in order to make itself more sensitive to certain inputs and stimuli, but prevents itself from completely reaching the critical point. Finite Waves wanted to study how the brain might be pushed past that critical point, how a complete and irreversible change might be induced.

Admittedly, this was not my area of expertise: I am a specialist in quantum mechanics and when I accepted the job offer I had assumed I would be assigned to a department where they were actually doing that. I certainly wasn’t expecting neuroscience. Then again, I do not recall my interviewer actually asking what I had studied. Nor can I remember, well, anything else about them. At the time, I simply accepted that I was lucky to have found a job, and that I should treat this as a learning experience. So in the weeks before my employment was due to begin, I read everything I could find on the subject. I was quite tired by the end, but I concluded that I had a reasonable base of knowledge and if I was missing something I could find out more later.

It turned out to be gruelling, tedious work, but I have always been an efficient researcher and in the beginning I even completed some tasks with time to spare. I used to carry a small sketchbook with me, an old, battered thing I’d used so much that one half of the cover was practically hanging off it, so once my work was finished I would take a break and spend some time drawing. At the time, I reasoned that this was perfectly acceptable — there was no work left, so it would not matter if I was doing this during my lab hours. It helped to alleviate some of the stress of the job, in any case. Finite Waves walked in while I was drawing once, and although he did not reprimand me for it, the look of disapproval he gave me was enough that I was sure to keep the sketchbook in my desk when I was not using it and I became more wary about listening for their footsteps when I was on a break.

However, as the… weeks? Months? As I said, I cannot remember how long I was there — as time passed, Finite Waves increased my workload, and I found that I had far less time for breaks. I started staying in the labs after hours, writing report after report. I was also assigned various tests to run, but they were exceedingly strange. Essentially, I was performing materials testing, looking for the aforementioned critical point at which various items were supposed to “change”. The methodology was somewhat unique, however.

To begin with, I could not understand why I was being given materials like the toys and shelters from the animal specimens’ pens, and it seemed like a waste since the tests I was being asked to run usually damaged or destroyed them. It always felt like I was killing them when that happened, though I could not explain why. They were just objects. Half of the equipment I was using looked like it would be better suited to an abattoir and the other half involved using natural materials to test factors like environmental degradation. On one memorable occasion, I had a small tub of swirling molten golden fluid that completely dissolved the chewed wicker toy I was testing. Finite Waves was in high spirits that day.

It was also unclear what results I was meant to be looking for — I am certain there was a reason for it, but perhaps I have forgotten it.

Finite Waves seemed quite certain about it though. I wondered if the methodology had been approved by an ethics board, especially given the… ah, conditions of the animals. While I was not testing anything on them directly, their health often worsened significantly with the removal of such items and they were not kept together despite being a social species. Many did not even have bedding in their cages. Their keeping and observation was not part of my responsibilities; Finite Waves observed them instead and I believe he was running some other tests that I was not involved in, but I know the creatures were pushed completely to the edge of stability. I certainly noticed symptoms such as fur loss, lack of appetite and sudden bouts of aggression on the few occasions that I had to enter the containment room.

As the project wore on, Finite Waves seemed more on edge, and I will admit his behaviour was disconcerting. Sometimes I would see him performing a dissection on one of those unfortunate specimens after hours, usually a rabbit. He always seemed… slow. Methodical and drawn out, in the way that one might savour a delicious meal. I never saw him smile, but I got the sense that he relished it nonetheless. No one else seemed particularly perturbed by this, so I chose to ignore it for the time being. You meet plenty of eccentrics in this field after all, and while it was a little sickening at times I could hardly ask him about it. Not when I felt as if when he looked at me, he was simply performing another dissection.

The work was exhausting. I did question it at times; what I was doing had moved far beyond the scope of the simple theoretical physics research I had expected, and likely had little to do with proper neuroscience as well. Finite Waves tended to keep me too busy to think about it much, though. I have never been one to shy away from work, but it was far more than I had ever had to do, even during my degree. Soon, I began losing track of time. I would begin a report at two, and come to my senses well into the night with no idea how long I had been sitting there and a splitting migraine that felt as if my head would melt from the pain. More than once, I forgot what day it was, and simply kept going through the motions in a fugue state with black spots at the edges of my vision. Other times, I would bury myself in work with feverish dedication, only to finally finish a report and instantly be overcome with a wave of burning pain. On the rare occasion that I ventured to the cafeteria, I found that everything I ate was bitter and chalky, more ash than food. Curiously, there never seemed to be anyone in there. I assumed it was simply that my hours were odd, and I could hardly focus on the minutiae like that. My mouth was always dry and I could barely stand. The few nights I spent in bed were sleepless, as I spent the entire time curled up with a fan activated to try and cool my searing skin and head. Working could usually distract me from it, though, or at least I felt that it was better to be in pain and doing something rather than sitting around in agony and accomplishing nothing, so I resorted to staying hunched over stacks of meaningless paperwork. My sketchbook went all but forgotten in the drawer of my desk.

I do not know how long this continued. The calendars in the facility blurred into the background until eventually they were gone altogether. Clocks seemed to melt when I looked at them, although this was likely because of the exhaustion impairing my vision and the blistering sensation behind my eyes. My senses constantly rebelled against me; every light was near-blinding, every footstep sounded like a scream. I went days without seeing anyone except for Finite Waves. Longer, maybe. It often felt as if the facility was entirely empty.

Eventually, this came to a head. The irony that I recall this part fairly well is not lost on me. It was one of the few brief moments of clarity I had. I think I could tell that something was off that night.

It was long past dark, so myself and Finite Waves were the only ones still in the main facility. For once, he had requested that I be present for one of his experiments. Although I’m sure I had worked there for some considerable time, it was highly unusual that I was there for any of his testing when it came to the animals themselves. When I entered the laboratory, I immediately noticed the bizarre setup. There was a rabbit with a couple of nodes attached to its head locked in a cage on the central table, frantically trying to dig. It looked at me for a moment, wide-eyed and piercing. Like it knew me. It was so emaciated I barely recognised it as an animal at first, all shivering skin and bones and eyes.

I wanted to run. I should have run. But Finite Waves stared at me and I felt rooted to the spot.

As I approached the table, the rabbit began digging again. Just digging. It scrabbled at the surface of the table as if it could claw its way through the steel, its mangled paws covered in oozing scabs and sores that had clearly been reopened. How long had it been digging? With a growing feeling of pressure behind my eyes and a little sick to my stomach, I watched as Finite Waves activated what looked like an elaborate heating element on the desk, emitting an oppressive warmth which worsened my now-pulsing headache. The pressure was starting to feel crushing — and then I looked back to the rabbit. It kept digging, no longer just frantic but frenzied. The steel table was heating up, causing its paws to blister and bleed, but it just wouldn’t stop digging. Finite Waves seemed indifferent to its struggle, motioning for me to start writing down whatever result he seemed to be getting from this torture. I complied.

I wrote it all down. I noted how the welts on the rabbit’s skin began to tear and ooze dark liquid that evaporated the second it hit the table, how the melting flesh pulled back to reveal a ribcage cracking under the strain of the quickly-mounting pressure that now descended over the room, how it heaved on the bloodstained soil that spilled from its mouth, how it just kept digging -

[THEY BREAK OFF WITH A GASP, TAKING A MOMENT TO SHAKE THE INCREASINGLY FRANTIC TONE.]

- how, when it finally collapsed with a horrible shriek, golden flowers bloomed from the grave that it dug itself and burst into flame from the scorching heat.

The lab was still. The heat and pressure did not abate, but for a second I hoped that it was over. It seemed so fragile, lying there on the table, still blistering and bleeding. The stench of burnt flesh and fur was overwhelming, and the intense heat emanating from the carcass only made my head feel like it was going to split open. I tried to speak, to scream, maybe, but no sound passed my lips. When I glanced towards Finite Waves, though, they looked furious. Trying to keep my composure, I turned back to face them properly, but I am sure they saw through it. The way they looked at me… it was like I was the one lying burned and broken on the steel slab.

They started to march around the room, rifling through desks — looking for something to salvage the experiment, I assumed, although I did not know what. I stayed in the middle of the room watching them. I am not certain what I was expecting to happen, but something deep within me wanted to bolt. Except for the sound of their footsteps on the tiled floor and the quiet crackle of the still-burning corpse, it was agonisingly quiet. Finally, they brandished a small, tattered book from a drawer. It took me far too long to realise what precisely they were holding, but before I could register the dread of seeing them clutching my sketchbook, it was far too late to do anything about it. They stalked back to the central table, and I could only stare in horror and confusion as they set it alight.

It felt like time itself was melting. I was stuck in that moment for ages, watching years of progress go up in flames. As he held my sketchbook in the fire, I saw the pages begin to bubble and blister — I barely understood it at the time, but I am now certain that the dark liquid that dripped from it was blood. I think I heard screaming. Perhaps it was mine, or the book itself. Watching the flames lick the sides of my sketchbook as the pages curled and writhed like tearing skin, I felt the ache behind my eyes become sharper, stabbing until it was scorching, incinerating every neuron and synapse and leaving nothing in its wake.

I cannot possibly convey the pain I felt with mere words. There are dozens of articles online on what happens to you when you burn, reporting every gory detail with morbid fascination, basking in the horror of how the capillaries burst, how the fat melts and how the muscles contract. I read every single one I could find. None of them felt like what happened to me. None of them could grasp how it feels for your brain to cook inside your skull.

I passed out, I think. When I came to, I was lying on the floor. A person whose name I regrettably no longer remember had put me into a safer position — I had gone into shock, apparently. They had been trying to call an ambulance. As it turns out, it is quite difficult for emergency services to reach a lab in the middle of nowhere. I don’t believe they were a coworker of mine; the Hawaiian shirt was hardly appropriate lab attire, but I am grateful for their presence nonetheless. Even if I did initially mistake them for Finite Waves in my confusion. Eventually, an Air Ambulance arrived and I was taken to hospital. My case completely baffled the doctors, as I was uninjured and they could not identify why I went into shock. Eventually, they concluded that I must have been severely dehydrated and gone into hypovolemic shock as a result, that I had just hallucinated all of… that.

I had to stay in hospital for several weeks to recover, but I did return to the research facility to collect my things and resign. Finite Waves was completely absent, and according to sign-in records, had not come in on the day of this incident, nor any day after that. No one recognised my description of the person who called the ambulance either. Aside from my own testimony, there was little to suggest anything had actually happened, save for the charred remains of my sketchbook unceremoniously tossed in a waste paper basket, covered in some dark, dried substance that seemed to have leaked from between the mutilated pages. I tried not to think about it too much.

I cannot shake the feeling that I should have felt more grief in that moment. I had spent a great deal of time perfecting my art, learning how to express rather than merely copy what I saw. And yet it was as if I had never seen it before in my life. I could remember nothing about the drawings within, or how I had done them. My sketchbook was unrecognisable, and all I felt was… empty. As if the very concept of art had burned to ash within me, and taken a part of me with it.

I left rather quickly after that.

Getting back on my feet has been challenging. A number of my possessions seem to be missing, including my phone and laptop, and it is not as if I have any connections at the moment. Even my emergency contact was missing, apparently. I have only vague memories of faceless people who were… perhaps my friends and family. There seems to be very little chance that I might get another job in scientific research — having to leave your last job after having a breakdown and claiming you were violently assaulted by a senior member of staff will do that to a CV.

I did have a stroke of luck, though. Recently, I left my flat to visit a nearby café, and while I was there I ran into a person named Cognitive Dissonance, who seemed to recognise me from… when I was an undergraduate, I think she said? The encounter as a whole was somewhat overwhelming, and I couldn’t remember her at all besides a faint echo of endearment, but the broad strokes seemed to be that we had done some kind of art workshop together and been fairly close. When I mentioned that I was out of work, she suggested I join her at a research job for some kind of paranormal investigations organisation. Fitting, really. I do not think I really have anything to lose at this point, and working for ghosthunters is better than becoming homeless. I was lucky my lease was still going, and my sick leave plus the astounding overtime I was apparently owed paid most of my various debts.

[BEAT. THEY SEEM TO SNAP OUT OF THEIR STORY.]

Ah, I… think that is all of it. My interview for the new job is tomorrow. With any luck, it won’t be such a disaster, and I will have something to do again. These days are getting unbearable with nothing to do except lay down with another wretched headache.

[TAPE RECORDER CLICKS OFF.]

INT. NEEDLESS SEPARATION’S SMALL FLAT - NIGHT, DRY (TAPE RECORDER)

[TAPE RECORDER CLICKS BACK ON.]

NEEDLESS SEPARATION

…I was unsure if I still had this. Wayback’s investigation into Finite Waves reminded me of it. Evidently, my younger self was right to record it: some of these details did disappear from my mind. I had forgotten about the flowers, for example. Hardly makes for a credible statement, but we are far past that point by now.

It is unusual to hear myself talk about Cognitive Dissonance, though. Although we did maintain a good relationship, I never recovered any memories of them and we did not spend much time together. There was so much work to do, of course. They did not remember a great deal of me either then, and now they certainly do not.

It has been several years since my incident now. I have not heard anything further from Transcendent Life Labs, nor Finite Waves. For the most part, I did put it out of my mind. Though I do occasionally wonder if I might have been able to do something. Perhaps if I had hidden my sketchbook better, or left it in my room… No. It is of little relevance.

[THEY COUGH, TRYING TO CHANGE THE TOPIC.]

In some ways, the work I do now is not so different to what I did back then; my job is still to explain and predict strange occurrences. I am just as efficient and hardworking as I ever was — more, even. It is not as if I have anything else to do on the job now. Without any distractions, I get far more done. More recently, I have endeavoured to make sense of these beings that we call Entities. My colleagues believe them inscrutable, but I cannot accept such a lacklustre answer. If these beings must feed, then it stands to reason that they are to some extent living, and can therefore be observed. Categorised. Understood.

It is then perhaps bitterly ironic that for all my tireless research, all those sleepless nights I have dedicated to unpicking the patterns that emerge from supernatural phenomena, I am yet to find a clear answer as to what happened to me, or why. I don't... perhaps it was just another form of test. Perhaps I will never understand at all. And my headaches are getting worse.

…I know something is wrong. My skin is cracked and peeling, and I cannot rid my mouth of the taste of ash. Weaving Tales attempted to send me home last week with a temperature, of all things. Hah.

[A CLIPPED, HUMOURLESS LAUGH.]

But it is of no concern. While these conditions are admittedly unpleasant, they are livable. Sometimes you have to deal with things you dislike to get any work done, after all. I cannot stop now.

[TAPE RECORDER CLICKS OFF.]

[starshine-hockey-girl]

Cold As Ice - The Interview

Here my fic for the May AU event for the HRPF fandom. As usual I am late getting it done. Apparently, I am physically incapable of writing a short blurb.

This a mafia AU. @pattiemac1 and I have created this AU together over the last two/three years. We add to it then take things away constantly. She graciously allowed me to insert my characters of Lex and Teddy (from Journey to the Emerald City) into the world.

This is a little glimpse into the world of a Sidney Crosby led mafia family and Teddy/Lex became a part of it. I don't think it needs much warning other than language and some implied violence. As usual fluff abounds between my two little cupcakes.

I will put a link at the bottom for anyone interested about Teddy/Lex in their world.

Word count - 7.1K words

@hrpffandomeventblog @cellythefloshie @fallinallincurls @penstxgal1968

SUMMER 2021 - DALLAS, TEXAS

Jamie “Lex” Oleksiak yawned as drove down the expressway toward home. It had been a rough night at the club. Three guys had called off and so he was forced to work at the front door. Between the oppressive heat and steady wave of SMU sorority girls shooting their shot with him, he was more than ready to get home. He mentally pictured the refrigerator and recalled at least two bottles of cold beer that he would be drinking soon. 

His cell phone rang and he glanced at the notification on his console screen. “Of course Seggy would call at 3 AM,” he thought to himself. He answered the call at the last moment. “Hey Seggy,” he said, “What’s up?”

Tyler Seguin held his cell phone to his ear and unbuttoned his shirt. “You are a tough guy to track down, Big Rig,” the brunette laughed, “I had to call three different guys to get your number. It’s like you dropped off the face of the planet.You still in Dallas?” 

“Yeah, still in here in Big D,” he muttered, feeling stung by the word still. It was not his plan to still be in Dallas. No, he had planned to return to Toronto with this tail tucked between his legs years ago. But life got in the way and his career began in security. He had almost saved enough to make the move back with a little dignity when he was struck by a thunderbolt. A thunderbolt named Theodora “Teddy” Baxter. 

Ironically, they met the last time that he had been forced to work the front door at the club. The moment she looked up with those bright blue eyes and megawatt smile as she handed over her ID, he was hooked. For reasons still unknown to him, she had agreed later that night to go on date with him. They had been inseparable ever since and any plans to move back to Toronto went out the window. His heart was firmly planted in Dallas. Well, anywhere she was. 

“What’s keeping you there?” Seggy questioned, “I thought you would have moved onto greener pastures by now. I know I did.” 

“It’s complicated,” Lex answered vaguely.

Seggy got quiet for  a moment and debated whether to push the issue. Big Rig was not known to be an open book and he needed him to have an open mind. “I got ya. Life’s like that sometimes,” he commented casually, “Listen, you still doing security work? That’s the word on the street.”

“Depends on who is asking,” Lex answered coolly. Other than his parents, he had not admitted to any of his Toronto friends that his professional hockey career had been a bust. 

“It’s me asking - it’s me,” Seggy answered. He had picked up on the tone in Big Rig’s voice. They shared in a desire to not let word of their career failure reach Canada. They had that much in common. 

“And why are you asking?” Lex asked warily. 

“Because I have a lead on a job and I think that you would be a good fit.” he said bluntly. Tyler tried to mask the desperation in his voice. 

The last guy that was brought into the crew turned out to be an utter disaster. Claude Giroux had been recommended to the crew by Flower and didn’t take long to discover that he wasn’t going to last long. His gruff demeanor ruffled the sensitive egos of the rag tag crew. The last straw was when he openly defied The Boss. It was so bad that HE delivered the permanent pink slip to the back of Giroux’s head himself. 

“Tell me more,” Lex asked. 

Tyler explained that the job would be head of security for the CEO for Maritime Industries. When Lex didn't respond immediately, Tyler read from his phone. “Planning and implementing comprehensive security strategies, controlling the security operations budget, monitoring expenses,” he rattled on.

“Seggy, are you reading that off your phone?” Lex interrupted.

“Ummmm, no” Seggy stammered.

“Don't bullshit me. What's the job?” Lex asked.

“It’s a crew in Pittsburgh- mainly strip clubs and a few night clubs,” Seggy sighed, “and a few extracurricular activities.” Tyler tried to downplay the extent of the organization until he got a sense of how comfortable Lex would be with the ethically gray area. 

“Seggy…..we are not 21 any more,” Lex asserted, “I’m too old to go back to that petty ass shit.” 

“Big Rig, would you believe me if I told you that Sid is planning on going legit?” Tyler pleaded, “We really need a guy like you.” 

“Sid?” Lex questioned, “Like Sid Crosby? That guy runs all of Pennsylvania and half of NYC. Holy shit - Seggy how did you end up on that crew.”

“Long story, but let’s just say that my hockey skills finally paid off,” Tyler smiled, “Seriously, he is going legit soon. The pay is good and there are bennys.” 

“How good is the pay?” Lex quizzed.

“Let’s just say that my family isn’t questioning my “hockey” career anymore,” he replied. 

“Shit - that good?” Lex muttered as he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building. He looked up and saw the light on his living room. Teddy was waiting for him. Teddy who had never gotten so much as a parking ticket, much less arrested. “No,” he thought to himself, “I can’t bring her into that life.” He sighed, “Sorry, Seggy. I can’t.”

“Why?” Tyler whined. Sid wasn’t too happy that he was having to handle the day to day security operations and you know what they say, that shit ran down hill to Tyler. He needed to get someone to replace Giroux. He needed that someone right now. 

“Sorry, Segs - I gotta girl now. I don’t want to mess it up,” Lex said softly. 

“You’re turning down this dream job over a girl? Are you crazy?” Tyler scoffed.

“Yeah, I am crazy,” Lex sighed, “I just can’t risk losing her.” 

“I gotta meet this girl,” Tyler pushed before he decided that a softer touch was required, “I get it. Not really, but I get it. Why don’t you take a night and think about it. I can hold off Sid for that long.”

“I doubt I will change my mind, Seggy,” Lex countered, “She is the real deal.”

Lex hung up the phone and walked up to his apartment. He set his things down as he walked past the cramped kitchen. It was really just a glorified studio, but Teddy had done her best to make it homey. She had even started a new series on her YouTube channel - DIY Dollar Tree home decor. 

As if by unknown force, Teddy began to rouse when she felt Lex’s presence in the room. She had fallen asleep with her laptop open while editing videos. “Lex?” she yawned as she stirred, “Is it that time?” 

He walked over to her and moved her laptop to the table before scooping her into his lap. “Yeah,” he kissed her cheek as she curled her body into his chest. “How was work?” he questioned. 

Since the “Great Escape”, Teddy had taken two jobs to replace the income from her father’s real estate firm. Even with that, the duo struggled to make ends meet.  She had grown up with every luxury known to man and gave it all up two months ago to be with him after her father had issued the ultimatum. She had to pick between her family and her love. She made the choice in an instant and never looked back. Now she was waitressing at the best steakhouse in town at night and nannying for Stars goalie Ben Bishop during the day. She operated on fumes but never once complained. 

“Work was good. I had a private party so the tip was great, even the company was horrible,” she smiled. Lex furrowed his brow while she continued  “Paige came in and was well, you know, Paige,” she sighed, “Thank God for automatic gratuity. She might have stiffed me otherwise.” Lex studied her face and could see her desperately trying to keep the facade up but he could see the pain behind her eyes. Paige had been her childhood best friend but had turned her back on Teddy when she chose him after her family’s ultimatum. 

“Foz,” he said gently as he caressed her face. She smiled at the nickname he had given on their first date. It had started out as “Fozzy Wozzy Bear had red hair”, but had shortened over time to just Foz.

She shook her head to protest and shake the negative thoughts that were beginning to swirl in her brain. “No, Lex - it’s fine,” she lied, “She’s not important and I am glad that I could see her true colors finally.” She had seen the true colors of most of her childhood friends as one by one they dropped her. “It’s funny,” she thought to herself, “None of them had anything to say as they ignored the obvious signs that Chaz was beating me. But let me fall in love with a good, decent man who works hard and all of a sudden they are all concerned about my well-being.” The bitterness rose up inside of her. 

Her mind raced for a distraction. “I have a surprise for you!’ she jumped up and his eyes followed her. She came back with a to-go bag from the restaurant. He pulled out the box and opened it. Inside was a huge tomahawk steak with all the trimmings. He looked up to see her beaming smile, “They said it was overcooked because they wanted it super rare, but it’s cooked just like you like it, so I snagged it.” 

She moved to the side of him as he ate off of his lap. They enjoyed the moment in quiet contentment as Lex’s mind raced. “How long?” he asked himself, “How long can I ask her to make these sacrifices? How long before she runs back to the easy life. The life I can’t give her.”

His thoughts were interrupted with her voice, “Spill it, Jamieson.” She only used his full name when she was completely serious. 

“An old friend called with a job offer,” he started. Her face lit up immediately. “But it’s in Pittsburgh,” he interjected, expecting her face to drop. It did not. “And it’s not necessarily completely above board.” Again, he expected her expression to change, but it was bright and hopeful. “I told them no,” he said finally. “Why?” she questioned.

“I can’t leave you,” he answered. 

“Then take me,” she replied as if it was the obvious answer. 

“You would go? You would go to Pittsburgh? But Dallas is your home,” he said in disbelief.

“My home is with you, Love,” she kissed his cheek.

“And it doesn't bother you that there may be some shady shit?” he prodded.

“There is shady shit going on everywhere, even the corporate world. There is a reason my father has a security detail. You don’t become a billionaire without doing some shady shit and making a few enemies along the way. What's the difference? The real question is would you take the job if I weren’t a factor?”

“I would at least go have the conversation,” he answered,

“Then go have the conversation,” she kissed his cheek.

Lex picked up the phone and dialed Seguin. He only spoke three words when Tyler answered, “Set it up.” Then he hung and focused on Teddy, “Tell me about Paige. What did she do this time? Do I need to go pay her a visit”  He tickled her sides and nipped at her neck. “I can be your enforcer, Foz. Just say the word.” 

TWO DAYS LATER 

“Foz” Lex asked as she adjusted his tie on the private plane Crosby had sent for them, “Where did you find this suit? I am not buying the Goodwill story.” The odds have her randomly finding a tailored suit that fit his almost six eight frame was slim to none.

“I acquired it. That's all you need to know,” she grinned. 

Lex opened the suit jacket and saw the label with the words “Custom made for RTB”. He looked up at her in surprise. “Is this your dad's suit? Did you steal a suit from your dad?” Their height was about the only thing he had in common with the stubborn, prideful man. 

“Steal is such a harsh word,” she answered as she brushed imaginary lint off of his chest. He looked at her with one eyebrow raised,”it's an old suit. It was languishing in the back of his closet. I am pretty sure he wore it to my confirmation. We are giving it new life.”

“You stole it, Foz,” he teased.

“Well, think of me as modern day Robin Hood,” she teased as she pulled on his tie to kiss him, “And you can be me Maid Marian.”

His eyebrows furrowed in sign of disapproval. “What? You would look good as Maid Marian,” she protested before continuing, “I simply tested the supposedly top notch security system at my parent's house. I was doing them a service actually. They should be thanking me that I only took a suit as payment. It could have been worse.”

“Put it back once we get home,” he chided. 

“Fine, but Lex, I don’t think you are going to be up for the level of shady shit working for Sid Crosby is going to require if you can’t accept one re-acquisitioned suit from my father,” she playfully pouted. 

“I am the only criminal in this relationship. You are the virtuous one with the heart of gold, got it?” he said. He cracked a smile, but the message was clear - leave the shady shit to him. 

“Got it,” as she adjusted his tie, “Now let’s go knock him dead.”

Maritime Manor - Sidney Crosby Compound - Fox Chapel, Pennsylvania

Lex stood at the large picture window for a moment. He examined what he could see of the extensive  grounds. The lawn was well manicured with each of the smaller cottages on the compound sharing a large common area. Just beyond the cottages was a wooded area that extended to what looked like a river or creek bed. He mentally checked for sight lines and frowned at the results.

He turned around and examined the large office that had been created from two small guest rooms. At the far end, a large conference table sat covered with stacks of money. From what he could quickly estimate, it was easily $20K in stacks with a pile left to be sorted. He walked closer to the table. The pile was probably another 50K left to be sorted from collected protection money from the weekend. 

Outside the office, he heard the jovial sounds of the crew chirping each other. Suddenly they got quiet. He turned to face the door. The chatter had turned seriously and he heard the sound of the front door open. He then heard the sound of Sid’s distinct Nova Scotian accent, “Who is she?”

Then he heard the accented voice of Andre Burakovsky, “She’s with the big guy. He’s waiting for you in the office.” Lex’s body tensed up and he faced the door. 

Seggy piped in, “You left him in the office? Alone?”

“That’s not good?” the Swede questioned Seggy as they walked past him. Sid’s silence sent the resounding message that it was indeed, no good. Lex heard footsteps that approached the door. He resumed his position by the picture window, but turned when Sid and Seggy walked in the room. 

Sid did a quick visual assessment as he walked in. His lips pursed when he saw the stacks of money in the open. When his eyes landed on the gun left out in the open, he shook his head, “Burky, Burky, Burky.”

After a quick one shoulder hug and pat on the back, Tyler moved to make the introductions. “Sid, this is Jamie Oleksiak aka Big Rig,” he began, “We go back a long way. Big Rig, this is Sid Crosby. He runs this crew.”

“I am sure that he knows who I am, Seggy,” Sid interjected as he shook hands with Lex, “You can leave us alone now.” Tyler’s head went back and forth as the two stood in an extended handshake. 

“Sure, Sid,” Tyler said through the tension that radiated off of the two men sizing each other up. “I’m just going to go head over to the clubs and deal with that bouncer issue.” 

Lex noted the hand strength in the shorter man as Tyler left. He also noted the slight flair in his nostrils and tense jaw. On the surface, Sid appeared calm and neutral.  He crossed in front of Lex to walk to his desk. He made a quick turn while pulling out his gun. He was met by a gun pointed between his temple as Lex quickly removed his gun from his hand. Time stood still as the two men stared each other down. The beating of each other’s heart pounded in their ears. It was then that Sid noticed the gun pointed at his head was one of his own. His eyes shifted and he saw the hidden gun safe ajar. 

Sid said neutrally, “So what’s your plan of action here, Big Rig?”

“Well, I would say my plan of action is to find out if you are as big of an idiot as your crew,” Lex said equally as cool, “Also I would say that we are in the process of sizing each other up. I think I have the upper hand literally and figuratively.” 

“I think that you have proven your point,” Sid took a step back without breaking eye contact, “You have found some vulnerabilities that need to be addressed. Care to sit down and discuss the job now like professionals?”  Lex nodded and Sid carefully walked behind his desk. 

“Hands on the desk,” Lex ordered as he kept the gun pointed at Sid. 

“Come on, Big Rig,” Sid smiled, “I said like professionals. Besides, do you think I am going to kill you with your girl sitting in the next room?” 

Lex’s eyes squinted slightly but his expression did not change. He shrugged and said, “It’s a possibility, but that’s assuming that you get me before I get you, which is not going to happen.” 

“Fair enough,” Sid conceded, “You got the job by the way if you want it. Want to hear the details?” Lex nodded his head yes. Impressed with Sid’s direct approach. “Then put the damn gun down,” Sid instructed. Lex lowered his weapon, but kept the gun in his hand. “First, tell me the other vulnerabilities you saw.”

“I don’t work for free,” Lex replied, “Tell me about the job and compensation. I will discuss it with Teddy. Then I will give you a breakdown of your slip-shod security.” 

Sid sat back and smiled, “You don’t bullshit. I like that.”

“I find that it makes life simpler,” Lex responded. 

“Alright, here is a breakdown of the job. You are head of security for all business locations as well as the compound. You have complete discretion in terms of staffing and resources that you need. My only non-negotiables are Seggy and Burky. They may need some fine tuning, but I trust them,” Sid explained, “Compensation includes salary, housing and benefits.” 

“What’s the salary?” Lex quizzed.

“Name your price,” Sid answered without hesitation. Lex balked and Sid continued, “Look, I have a good gut instinct about you. You have already proven that you will stand your ground and you are not a yes man. That’s what I need.”

“I gotta talk it over with my lady,” Lex answered slowly, “Tell me about the crew.”

Outside in the great room, Teddy’s legs bounced up and down on the gray leather sofa as she  played with the bracelet on her wrist. She moved her fingers from stone to stone. Burky watched from the side of the room and ran his fingers through his hair before bringing his thumb to his mouth. He slowly chewed his fingernail while contemplating his next move. He knew had screwed up letting the Big Bird or whatever his name was into the office. He had been distracted by the red head when she entered the room wearing a navy blue sheath dress that hugged her curves. Women had always been his weakness.

Sid would come down hard on his stupidity if he didnt come with a plan to make up for it. “What were you thinking, dumbass?” he chastised himself. Suddenly he saw a glint that caught his eye. He focused on the origin of it and smiled widely. He knew what he needed to do. 

“Excuse me” he asked brightly and exaggerated his Swedish accent slightly,  “What did you say your name was?

Teddy looked over at him warily, “Teddy.” She wasn’t in the mood to make small talk. She was a bundle of nerves as the reality of the situation sank in. This could be her future - a future outside of Texas. It was a move that would hammer the final nail in the coffin of her relationship with her parents.

“Ahhh, Teddy is a man's name, correct?” he questioned “Your parents wanted a boy and not a girl?”

“Wow,” she said as her eyebrow raised slightly, “You get right to the point…..”

“Andre,” he grinned, “They call me Burky.” He studied her body language as he decided on his approach. “You look thirsty. We can go get a drink in the kitchen.” he said sweetly.

She studied his face for a moment. He seemed friendly enough, much friendlier than she thought a part of Sid Crosby’s crew should be. It couldn’t hurt to make conversation and learn a little bit more about the job from his perspective, she told herself. 

“Do you have coffee?” she smiled back, “I would love some.” She willingly followed along as he led them  into the spacious kitchen. They made small talk as they made their coffees. They reached over each other as they put their cream and sweeteners in their mugs. He spoke of his move from Sweden to the states to pursue a hockey career. Like Lex and Seggy, his professional career had been a bust. In his case, multiple injuries stymied his playing time and eventually earned him the label of “fragile”. Teddy remained tight lipped when Burky pressed her information about Lex and his history.

It was only after they returned to the living room that Teddy felt like something was off. She dismissed the feeling as she looked at the closed door. “So Sid?” Teddy asked casually, “He's a good boss?”

Burky's head popped up, “Oh, he's great. He took me in off the street.” 

Suddenly, Teddy realized what was wrong. Her right wrist was bare. The wrist that normally held  a diamond tennis bracelet. It had been a sweet sixteen gift from her dead sister, Frankie. She looked down in the chair to see if it had slipped off there. It was nowhere to be seen. She distinctly remembered touching it earlier. She retraced her steps mentally and then kicked herself figuratively.

“So Andy?” she asked pointedly.

“Andre,” he corrected.

“Andre,” she smiled, “What do you do for Sid? I assume that you have some sort of specific role.”

Burky blinked slowly, unsure where the conversation was leading. He didn't want to bring any attention to his skill set. “Oh, I do all kinds of things.” he answered casually.

“Things like stealing bracelets from house guests?” Teddy leveled her gaze at the Swede.

“Bracelet?” he smiled, “What bracelet?”

“The one you took,” she answered calmly. 

“I didn't take a bracelet,” he replied in the same manner.

“We're going this route?” Teddy got up and walked toward him with a sense of purpose, “Give me the bracelet- no harm, no foul.”

“There is no harm, no foul because I don't have the bracelet. I don’t know what you are talking about,” he stood his ground.”

“Come on Burky, this could get really ugly or you can simply hand it back to me,” Teddy attempted to speak as sweetly as possible. When he didn’t respond, she felt the anger rise up in her. “Look, you have three seconds before I scream,” her voice rose slightly, “What do you think HE is going to do when he hears it? Do you think he is going to stop to ask you questions? If you are lucky, I will be able to explain the situation before he assumes something far worse. No, when I tell him that you took the bracelet, he will just turn you upside down and shake you down. Have you ever been shaken down by a Big Rig?  I would just give it back to me and save yourself the pain, but you do you booboo”.

In the office, Sid was mid-story when Lex held up his hand. Sid stopped talking and they listened.

“Let's be reasonable,” Burky cajoled.

She stepped closer and yelled, “Give it back.”

“or you will tell your giant, badass big bird of a boyfriend,” he scoffed, “For the last time, I didn’t take your damn….”

He was interrupted as Teddy grabbed his hand and twisted his arm behind his back. Then she pushed her foot to the back of his knee, bringing him down to his knees. “Give it back to me,” she screamed as she twisted his arm tighter. 

“Foz, everything okay out there,” Lex called  as he rose to his feet. 

“Yeah sure,” Teddy answered breezily as she pressed harder.

Burky heard the movement and assessed the situation. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he thought to himself as the pain began to shoot up his arm. He began to realize that his initial plan of stealing the bracelet to get back in Sid’s good graces had not been thought through to completion. One, he thought she wouldn’t notice, or at least until they left. Two, he forgot about the big guy. Three, it was a stupid ass plan altogether. 

“Alright, alright, alright,” he whined, “You have to get off of me.” She stood up slowly and adjusted her dress. Burky placed his forehead on the floor and took a deep breath in an effort to compose himself. Then he jumped up and smiled brightly. “Congratulations, Teddy,” he said with false bravado. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the five carat tennis bracelet. He placed it into his palm and presented it to her with great flourish. 

It was that moment that the door opened and duo walked into the room. 

“What’s going on?” Lex asked bruskly. 

Teddy tilted her head, “What do you mean?”

“We heard a ruckus,” Sid answered. 

Teddy and Burky exchanged a look. Teddy studied his face. His eyes implored her silently. She considered his misdeed. He tried to pull a fast one on her and failed. It was unlikely he would try it again. She tried to summon anger but he bat his puppy dog eyes at her and she smiled.

“A ruckus?” Burky repeated, “I didn’t hear a ruckus. Did you hear a ruckus, Teddy?”

“No, I didn’t hear anything, Andy,” she responded. She turned to the duo. “Can you describe the ruckus?” she added. 

Sid stifled his laughter. He wasn’t sure what exactly was happening, but he knew two things - Burky had screwed up again and Teddy was covering up for him. The Swede was the equivalent of a labrador puppy on his crew. He was simultaneously entertaining and endearing with his antics. However, he frequently left messes all over that required someone to clean it up.

 Lex pressed the issue slightly, “I am pretty sure I heard your voice, Teddy.“

Teddy smiled, “Oh that! My bracelet fell off. Andy here helped me find it. Didn’t you Andy?” 

Andre bit his tongue. He wanted to correct her but she was doing him a solid so he let it slide. “Yes, that must have been what you heard. Poor Teddy was quite flummoxed. You should really get that clasp checked. It’s very weak in my opinion.

Lex looked back and forth between the two. He was sure of one thing- something happened and Teddy would not tell him in front of Sid. Since she seemed to have the “situation” under control, he let it slide. 

“Are you almost done with your chat?” Teddy asked, desperate to end the stand-off. 

Sid smiled, “We’re just about done. Burky, take Teddy down to see the River cottage.” She tilted her head in confusion and he continued, “The job does come with either a housing allowance and/or use of one of the cottages on the compound. Why don’t you go take a look at it and see it will fit your needs?”

“Oh, that sounds like a fabulous idea,” she smiled. 

She held out her arm to signal Burky to lead the way. They were about ten yards outside the house before he spoke. “Why did you cover for me?” he asked. 

“Snitches get stitches,” she answered quickly.

“Not here,” he retorted immediately. She gave him a side eye. “Sid has very few rules, but rule number one is that there is no violence towards women or children. They're off limits.”

Teddy nodded her head in understanding, “So why did you steal my bracelet then?”

“Temporary insanity?” he laughed. When she did not return the laugh, he added, “I wanted to remind Sid that he needs me around for my special set of skills.” 

“Didn’t think that one one through, huh?” Teddy paused 

“Yeah,”  he sighed, “I am not the brains of the crew obviously..”

Teddy elbowed him, “Don’t worry Big Rig is smart enough for the both of you.” They stepped inside of the cozy three bedroom cottage. Teddy walked around from room to room and tried to keep her composure. It was a far cry from their cramped studio apartment. Mentally she started decorating it with their existing furniture. When she found the back door that led to a deck overlooking the Alleghany river, she was sold. 

Outside the cottage, Sid approached Burky with Lex. “Where’s Teddy?” Lex asked. Burky nodded his head to indicate that she was inside. They walked in and found her peacefully enjoying the view. She turned as she sensed their presence even though her eyes were closed. Sid’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. 

“Are you all done?” she asked brightly. 

Sid smiled, “I think that I may have him convinced to join the crew. I think that my only obstacle is you. Will the cottage work?” He was smart enough to know who the real decision maker would be.

Teddy glanced at her boyfriend then back to the river. She folded her arms across her chest. Then she replied with a smile, “The cottage is more than adequate.” Then she turned to Lex and asked, “Can you give Mr. Crosby and me a moment? I do have some questions for him.” 

His eyebrows shot up and he tilted his head, “Teddy, are you sure you want me to leave?”

‘Yes, it won’t take long. You should check out the shower to make sure that you fit,” she suggested. When he left, Sid and Teddy stood in silence for a moment. 

“Mr. Crosby,” she began, “Are there any of the other guys on the crew that have a wife or girlfriend?”

“No, you are the first,” he answered, “Truthfully, I thought you were going to be a dealbreaker for me when I saw you in the living room. Turns out that I was wrong.”

“How so?” she inquired. 

“You are much tougher than you appear,” he answered, “How hard did you take down Burky?”

Teddy’s mouth dropped before she smiled, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Come on, you can tell me,” he encouraged, “What did he do?”

“Promise me that he won’t be punished?” she asked point blank. Sid held up his fingers in a “Scouts Honor” gesture. She nodded in understanding. 

“Apparently in a fit of desperation, he lifted my bracelet from my wrist,” she answered. Sid immediately frowned and his jaw tensed. “Hey, he is part of your crew. You can’t be surprised.” Teddy walked towards the edge of the deck before turning back to face him. “Seriously, he didn’t think it through but there was no harm and no foul,” she said as she held out her bracelet. 

“Back to my question,” he quizzed.

“I took him down hard enough to get my message through,” she stared at him defiantly, “he won’t try it again - at least not with me.” 

Sid smiled, “You way tougher than I thought you were.”

“I used to not be tough, but Lex taught me,” she said out loud, “He turned me from a sheltered rich girl into someone with street smarts.”

“I’d love to hear how that happened,” he replied. 

“Story for another time,” she sighed. She steeled herself. Then she blurted out, “Mr. Crosby, what kind of business is this? I am not naive enough to believe that this is a completely legitimate operation, but I need to know just how far across the line will this job take Jamie?” She was careful to use his proper name. 

“Wow, you've got nerves of steel to ask me that,” Sid balked. 

For a moment, Teddy doubted herself but she pushed through it, “Lex,” she stopped herself, “I mean Jamie is more than capable to do whatever this job requires. I know that he has had to make ethically gray choices in the past.” She paused and considered shutting up but her protective nature spurred her on. “But he is a man of honor. He is not mean or malicious. I don’t want him to be  in a position where he would have to compromise his principles and character.” She took a deep breath, “I don't want to lose the man I love to a world of darkness.” 

Sid studied her for a moment. If there had been any doubt left about Oleksiak, she had removed it. Anyone who could inspire such gumption and loyalty was a person he wanted on his crew. Finally Sid spoke, “I won’t ask him to do that. I will not lie. We break the law on occasion.” She gave him a side eye. “Okay, we break the law a lot, but we do have a code that we follow.”

“Will he have to hurt people?” she asked brazenly.

“Yes, but nobody gets hurt that doesn’t deserve to be hurt,” he countered. 

“And women and children are off limits?” she asked to get confirmation of Burky’s remark.

“They are off limits and anyone who breaks that rule gets hurt,” Sid answered. 

“Well, then I think you have answered my questions,” she stated. 

“Good,” he smiled, “I’ll send Big Rig in so you can make your decision.”

Once Sid and Burky had left the cottage, Lex came back out to the deck. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist and bent down to place his chin on her shoulder. “What are you thinking, Foz?” he asked quietly. 

“I am thinking that I want to know how the interview went. Do you like him? Does he like you? What does the job entail?” she leaned her body weight back and turned her head to face him. He took her hand and led her to the chaise lounge. He removed his jacket and got comfortable. Then he pulled her on top of his massive body. 

“Well, after the guns were put away, it went well,” he started. 

“Guns? What the hell, Lex!” she shouted. 

He smiled, “We sized each other up so to speak”

“And?” she asked. 

“And there is a reason that he is Sidney Fucking Crosby and runs all of Pennsylvania and half of NYC. He’s smart, shrewd and has balls of steel,” he answered. She rested her head on his chest as he went on to explain the job. She could hear the excitement in his voice. She could also hear how he was trying to tamper it down. He knew that she would allow his excitement to cloud her judgment and she knew that he knew it. 

“So did he offer you the job?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” he tried to answer casually. 

“What’s the hold up then?” she joked. 

“The money,” he answered. He continued when she squinted in confusion, “He said that I can name my price. Foz, I have no idea on what to ask for. This job is so far out of my league. I just don’t know.” His voice trailed off. 

“Hey,” she interjected, “This is not out of your league. He basically offered you a job on the spot for a reason. Don’t doubt yourself, Jamieson.” 

“Okay boss,” he tickled her side. 

Suddenly an idea hit and she dug out her phone. She started texting Steve, the former Secret Service agent, who headed her father’s security team. 

Teddy gulped when she read the last line. 

“What?” Lex asked as his eyes filled with tears. 

She handed the phone to Lex who read over the messages. “Daddio never changed the code,” she whispered, “so I could go back if I needed to.” 

“Foz,” he whispered, “If you want to stay in Dallas, we can stay in Dallas. I’ll find a way to make more money.” 

Her eyes flashed up at him, “You know I don’t give a shit about the money. It’s never been about the money.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his face. “Listen to me Jamieson Oleksiak. I chose you. I chose you and I will choose you over and over again,” she spoke urgently. “This is a fresh start for us and we’re not going to throw it away for a possibility,” she said firmly, “They made their choice and nothing in those texts changes that.” 

“But Foz, they’re your family,” he countered.

“No, you are my family. They threw me away when they couldn’t control me” she protested, “Would you throw me away?

He recoiled in horror, “Never.

 “It’s you and me forever.” she began reciting the familiar words. 

“No matter what” he joined in reciting their motto.

“Whatever it takes,” she finished. 

“So we have a decision made?” he smiled.

“Let’s move to Pittsburgh,” she answered. 

“Foz, I didn’t even ask about the cottage,” he realized, “Do you like it?”

“It needs a little TLC, but I like it,” she assured him, “Factor in redecorating in your salary request.” 

They spent a few more minutes in silence before he nudged them up. After a few minutes to take measurements, they strolled hand in hand back to the main house. Teddy started to find a seat in the living room as Lex went to find Sid. However, he kept a firm grip on her hand. Together they knocked on the door and entered the office together. 

“So what’s the verdict?” Sid asked.

“We’re in for the right price,” Lex answered. He took a deep breath, “500K should do it.”

“Okay,” the Canadian crime boss answered without pausing, “When can you start?”

“Wait,” Teddy interjected. Sid turned to her, “And a reno budget for the cottage.”

Sid blinked and then smiled, “Welcome to the family. Let’s go celebrate.” 

The crew sat in the private dining of Ciliegia, Sid’s preferred Italian restaurant. The usually all male crew felt invigorated by the presence of a woman. There was a sly game of one-up manship as they vied for Teddy’s attention. It had not taken them long to realize that the key to getting into the new boss’s good graces was getting into HER good graces. 

After much prodding from Sid, Teddy finally spilled the beans on Burky’s failed attempt to steal her bracelet. 

“I lifted it without you noticing,” Burky protested as he blushed, “At least give me credit for that.” 

“Yes, Andy,” she teased, “You did do that. Now what you were going to do with it once you had it, I have no idea.” 

“Andre… if you are not going to call me Burky, call me Andre,” he begged. 

“Why would I do that, Andy?” Teddy answered, “I think you should be glad that this is the only punishment I am going to dole out.” Lex watched with a bemused smile as the two bantered. 

Later, Sid asked the server to send his compliments to the chef for the delicious meal. They were surprised when the fiery redhead walked into the room. She wiped her hands on her apron as she approached Sid at the head of the table.  He stared at her, suddenly unable to speak. Startled glances were exchanged among the group before Lex spoke up to pass along the praise. The chef, Lizzie, nodded her head as she listened but her eyes were transfixed on the brunette Canadian. When she stumbled out of the room as she kept her gaze in his direction, Teddy and Lex shared a look.

As they walked out to go their separate ways, Sid nudged Lex, “I am pretty sure I just met my future wife.”

Lex stopped suddenly, “Don’t you think that you should know her name first?”

“I know her name,” Sid corrected, “It’s Mrs. Crosby.”

Lex laughed out loud, “Those redheads, I’ll tell you.” He glanced over at Teddy who was busy exchanging phone numbers, instagrams and snapchats with Seggy and Burky. “They’ll snatch your soul out of your body in an instant and never give it back,” he said with a smile. She turned to him and flashed a smile that melted his heart.

Lex pulled Teddy in a tight hug. “I lied earlier today, Foz” he whispered as he kissed the top of her head. 

“You did?” she looked up into his eyes, “about what?”

“I said that I am the only criminal in this relationship,” he smiled as he spoke, “That’s not true.”

“I’m a criminal now?” she playfully pouted, “Fine - I’ll get the suit cleaned and returned to Daddio’s closet. No harm, no foul.”

“I’m not talking about that, Foz,” he kissed her forehead. 

“Then how am I a criminal?” she poked his rock hard abs. 

“You stole my heart, just like a seasoned professional,” he bent down to kiss her gently, “Much better than the Swede.”

“Oh,” she returned his kiss, “In my defense, you stole mine first.” 

“Well, I am not giving it back,” he lifted her up to kiss her more deeply.

“Me either,” she wrapped her arms around his neck, “I am yours forever. No takeback and no exchanges.”

“I wouldn’t think of it,” he grinned as he carried her out to their waiting car, “I wouldn’t think of it.”

Chapter One-Trouble with a capital T-https://starshine-hockey-girl.tumblr.com/post/653360134099288064/trouble-with-a-capital-t-magical-mystery

[kth1]

Bangtan Cinema: Horror Night

Welcome to Bangtan Cinema: Horror Night! 🍿👻

Come watch read some haunted themes being featured at the Bangtan Cinemas! All stories based in a universe of a special horror-related movie! Isn’t that spook-tacular? So come on down, grab a couple of your friendly goons, some buttery popcorn, and enjoy 7 movies fics directed written by amazing and horrific authors!

All films fics are RATED R for mature audiences ONLY!

Zom-body to Love (COMING SOON TO A THEATER NEAR YOU) ↠ Movie Reference: Shaun of the Dead (2004) ↠ Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Female Reader ↠ Genre: Zombie Apocalypse AU, Horror, Crack, Fluff, Smut ↠ Director: @seokjinger-ale​  ──────────── ↠ Summary: Kim Seokjin lives an average, boring life. Get up, go to work, play video games, eat, sleep, repeat. The only bright spot is you, the cute teacher in the classroom across from the IT office where he works. His crush on you is massive, but he can never quite pull it together enough to ask you out. However, when the weird lady growling on the bus ends up being one of an army of the undead, Seokjin’s life becomes anything but boring. With the help of his doomsday prepper roommate, Jungkook, and a rigid determination to rescue you and keep you safe, will Seokjin finally be able to become the badass he’s always wanted to be and confess his feelings before the world ends?

45 Lampkin Ln (COMING SOON TO A THEATER NEAR YOU) ↠ Movie Reference: Halloween (1978) ↠ Pairing: Min Yoongi x Female Reader ↠ Genre: Horror, Thriller, Smut ↠ Director: @sugakookitty​  ──────────── ↠ Summary: “Drop the addy.” Ping after ping; it’s the only message coming through your line. Everyone wants to know what the move is tonight. For you, it’s babysitting the Doyle kids, but your best friend Anne has plans to throw a party at the old Myer’s house. However, one text from a guy you’re crushing on changes your mind.

This is a bad idea. Yoongi is a bad idea. Tonight, of all, is the worst for making bad decisions. But in what universe would you ever miss the opportunity to have Yoongi pull up at your party?

It Stays (CLICK TO VIEW SHOWTIMES!) ↠ Movie Reference: It Follows (2014) ↠ Pairing: Demon Jung Hoseok x Student Female Reader ↠ Genre: Thriller, Supernatural, Horror, Angst, Smut ↠ Director: @jjkeverlast​  ──────────── ↠ Summary: After some unexpected events at your campus, you're determined to find out what exactly has been lurking behind these walls, or more so who.

Familiar Hauntings (CLICK TO VIEW SHOWTIMES!) ↠ Movie Reference: The Conjuring (2013) ↠ Pairing: Demonologist Kim Namjoon x Clairvoyant Female Reader ↠ Genre: Established Relationship, Thriller, Horror, Supernatural, Angst ↠ Director: @joonscypher​  ──────────── ↠ Summary: You and Namjoon have worked hard to become expert paranormal investigators. You’ve successfully investigated and exorcised a number of demons and ghosts all over the world and your followers believe in you enough to keep you confident and going. That’s why when you get a call about a family with a teenage daughter experiencing traumatizing hauntings, you and your team don’t think twice about going to help. 

It isn’t until you get there do you realize that you may be in over your heads when you come face to face with a powerful yet familiar evil. It’s going to take more effort than you ever thought you’d need to get rid of this sinister force before it destroys everyone in it’s sight, including you and everyone you care about.

Cathexis (CLICK TO VIEW SHOWTIMES!) ↠ Movie Reference: Firestarter (1984) ↠ Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader ↠ Genre: Firestarter AU, Slight Yandere, Thriller ↠ Director: @jkeuphoriadreamland​ ​ ​──────────── ↠ Summary: Possessing a power that was genetically passed onto him, Jimin has to face life’s struggles managing this burden alone. He finds himself back in a town he vaguely recalls , where he hopes to find some semblance of peace, but what he doesn’t expect is to come face to face with his past.

Welcome to Woodsboro (CLICK TO VIEW SHOWTIMES!) ↠ Movie Reference: Scream (1996, 1997, 2000, 2011, 2022) ↠ Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female Reader ↠ Genre: Established Relationship, Thriller, Fluff, Smut ↠ Director: @kth1​ ​ ──────────── ↠ Summary: One generation's tragedy is the next one's joke as two horror enthusiasts set out to visit California's most infamous murder site, Woodsboro. Decorated like a festival throughout the town is nonother than the haunting and creepy mask of Ghostface. As an area with a history of a gruesome and terrorizing past, there is nothing better for fanatics from all around to show up on the anniversary of the very first murder that set off decades of repetitive fear.

A Grave Mistake (COMING SOON TO A THEATER NEAR YOU) ↠ Movie Reference: Ready or Not (2019) ↠ Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Newly Wed Female Reader ↠ Genre: Wedding AU, Established Relationship, Thriller, Horror, Angst, Smut ↠ Director: @jeonjcngkook​ ​ ──────────── ↠ Summary: Valentino couture mixed with violence and gore is not how you assumed your wedding day would end. As you come together to celebrate your union in front of both your friends and family with the pledge to love each other for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, sealed with a kiss. But you don't realise that 'until death do you part' is taken quite very literally in the form of a childhood playground game. are you really ready to love and honour each other as promised?

© All rights reserved under all respective authors tagged within this post - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of these works without author’s direct consent. Ownership belongs to each author tied to their original works.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

May 29th

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1. Hi, I’m looking for a fic in which lan zhan and wei ying are in a relationship. They argue a lot but every argument ends with wei ying jumping in bed with lan zhan and hugging him from behind to resolve it until one day they have a really serious argument and Wei ying doesn’t come to resolve it first. They might have broken up as well, and lan zhan realized wei ying constantly made effort to resolve the arguments first and lan zhan never did.

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2. Hello hello!! I have two requests this time

A) In this fic Wei Ying is the God of the Underworld. Infact everybody is a God here. And Wei Ying has a town or city built in his domain for the souls of the dead and I think the Wens lived there. Also the other Gods considered him a pariah. I remember this one scene where he comes up or goes down the stairs from heaven which leads to the Underworld after a conference with the Gods.

B) I remember only one scene from this fic. It was during the Wen Indoctrination where after Wei Ying was sent to the cell with the Dog he acts dead and Lan Wangji and Jiang Wanyin are heartbroken. But actually Wen Qing just helped Wei Ying's heart rate to slow down to convince Wen Chao of his death. I think Wei Ying wakes up right there after a few minutes or so. @yilinglaobunny

2A)

FOUND! there will come soft rains by infinite (recursion) (Not Rated, 14k, WangXian, Gods & Goddesses, Hades/Persephone AU)

2B)

FOUND! 🔒💖 the universe would turn to a mighty stranger by RavenclawLoki (T, 11k, wangxian, Angst, Eventual Fluff, Some mentions of blood, it looks like someone is dead but!!, it is okay, everything is going to be okay i promise, First Kiss, Canon Divergence, Wwx and lwj know they’re in love, They just don’t know the other loves them back, Everyone Lives AU, Hurt WWX, Hurt LWJ)

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3. Hi I'm trying to find a fic where lan zhan and jiang cheng are repeatingly kidnapping it wei ying from each other

FOUND? Wei Wuxian’s Kidnapping Back and Forth Farce (Starring Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji) by misscam (M, 5k, wangxian, JC & WWX, Humor, Switching)

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4. Hello, I’m looking for a specific fic that takes place post canon. Basically it’s a short fic where Lan Zhan goes out to travel for something and while he’s gone someone upsets Wei Ying, so to get back at him Wei Ying pretends to have sex super loudly every night. Lan Zhan hears about it and rushes back and hides in the room to find out what’s going on. I think they slept together after but I don’t remember well. I read it a few years ago and all can’t find it since.

FOUND? 🔒 The Sweetest Morsel to the Mouth That Ever Was Cooked in Hell by Silvarbelle (E, 14k, WangXian)

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5. Hi! There was this Wangxian fic where Lan Zhan got cursed and pushed Wei Ying away because he didn't recognize him and Wei Ying got badly hurt. Wen Qing was alive she made some sort of a healing bubble around Wei Ying for him to heal. I clearly remember she identified Wei Ying as her brother and asked Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen to keep Lan Zhan away from him. Lan Zhan was distraught after the curse wore off. Along with Sizhui and the others. Thank you!

FOUND? Brothers, Brothers-in-Law and Husbands by xxxMiaHikarixxx (G, 7k, WangXian, XiCheng, Lan Zhan accidentally hurts Wei Ying, Injured wei ying, Wen Qing is alive, protective Lans, protective Cheng, for once both Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng are good, Wedding, Protective Wen siblings, Jingyi and Yuan are best boys)

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6. Hi, I remember there being a fic but can't seem to find it : where the juniors end up in the past or a different universe where they see JGY and other cultivators in a meeting and one of JL or LY throw a weapon most probably a dagger killing JGY which makes LXC unhappy, hostile and maybe a little shocked but when he makes a move towards the juniors WangXian appear and WY tells/warns him from doing so. I remember I read it on ao3 but don't recall the chapter count apologises for the vague details but this is all that I remember so something with a similar premise or any help would be appreciated.

FOUND? A Blast from the Past by NightSky07 (G, 8k, WangXian, LCC/JC, JYL/JZX, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, WWX Needs a Hug, JYL gives it to him, juniors time travel, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Protective LWJ, Protective LSZ, BAMF WWX, The Junior Ensemble Love WWX, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, YLLZ WWX, Past WWX meets future WWX, Confused JC)

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7. Need help in finding a fic where a modern day girl gets transmigrated into the MDZS universe and she uses her phone to make maps and helps with the war from the shadows but she gets caught by Lan Xichen. I think Lan Xichen fell in love with her but not sure as the fic was in progress. Please help

FOUND? i told you when i came i was a stranger by Caramelized (M, 50k, OFC/LXC, minor WangXian, Isekai, Transmigration, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Amateur cartography, Butterfly Effect, Sunshot Campaign, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, No Golden Core Transfer, Dimension Travel, Politics, LXC the politician, Self-Insert, Foreknowledge, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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8. hi there I'm looking for a fic where's wei Ying deleted himself from existing I think and there was some kind of flower that represent that and Jiang Cheng and lan wangji are trying to save him, I'm sorry I'm not so got at writing in English I hope you understand ❤❤❤❤❤

FOUND? Remember by Amona (T, 59k, JC & WWX, WangXian, WIP, Canon Divergence, Mentions of Suicide, Self-Sacrifice, Erasing oneself from history, by WWX, forget WWX, colored souls, because it's pretty, Sword Spirits, JC has to take crash courses, But he'll do it for his brother, Major Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con)

FOUND? missed by ilip13 (T, 5k, WangXian, JC & WWX, JYL & WWX, Canon Divergence, But also, Modern with Magic, Reincarnation, Temporary Character Death, Sort Of, Angst with a Happy Ending, Love, Mention of canon-typical violence, Not time travel but timeline manipulation, Not nonlinear storytelling but the opposite of linear storytelling)

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9. Hiya,

Looking for a modern fic where LWJ is constantly being mean to WWX, whose constantly trying to befriend him. Eventually wwx has a whole breakdown about it, and he mentions how LWJ is an asshole to him for no reason. There’s a scene mentioning wwx baking cookies for him and he thought Lwj threw it out but in reality it is revealed in the end by Lwj himself that he ate it (although he was allergic to it) and WWX says something along the lines of that’s why you missed class that Monday. Turns out LWJ just struggles with communication. I think they are neighbors or roommates I can’t remember. Hopefully someone can help.

Thank you!!

FOUND? A Marriage Story by DeviyudeThoolika (E, 38k, wangxian, NMJ/LXC, married wangxian, but there are some complications, because it’s marriage, Sex is complicated, Angst and Pining, Pining while fucking, Mature elements, Mutual Pining, HEA, Arranged Marriage, Sort Of, Misunderstandings, of epic proportions, One True Pairing, Good Sibling JC, Good Parent YZY, Fluff and Angst, in that order, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone Loves WWX, Angst and Hurt/Comfort) or if not this one, by this author

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10. I am looking for a canon era (not modern) fic where Lan Wangji was kidnapped as a child and I think he was raised in a brothel. He grows up and curses himself to be hideous so that the men who frequent the brothel don’t try to touch him. Eventually true love breaks the curse (like, WWX loves him regardless of his appearance) and I think Wangji happily reconciles with Xichen.

FOUND! Turn Left by kianspo (M, 204k, WangXian, NieLan, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Friends to Lovers, eventually, references to child sexual abuse, not main characters, Neurodivergent LWJ, Slow Build, Lán Family Feels, specifically, Twin Jades of Lán Feels, lwj-centric, Twin Jades of Lán Dynamics, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Angst with Happy Ending)

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11. It's been some time since the last FF I've asked but here we go again :'D I'd like to find a fic that had WangXian traveling together and LWJ's back/scars were bothering him and it worsened because of cold weather? Most likely the fic was post canon. There might have been a bath house or a hot spring involved there somewhere

Yes, LWJ knew he was traveling with WWX. No, he didn't get more scars.

did lan zhan not know it was wei ying travelling with him, and did he get more scars as time went on?

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12. Hi, I would love some help locating a fic. I can't really remember a lot of the main plot since it has been a while since I read it. I believe it is a post-canon fic, but Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian had to go back to the Burial Mounds, and Wei Wuxian had to unbury his original body that was buried in the blood pool. I think. I also think that for Wei Wuxian's original body to survive, he had to wear a bracelet of some sort. I don't remember, or maybe I am confused by two different fics.

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13. For the fic finder!! TIA!!

This may be a scene from a long fic but I’m not sure. Wwx is possessed by something more than resentful energy- it’s an ancient demon who wants to destroy the world. Wwx seals himself inside the cold pond cave and puts up a barrier- I guess prepared to stay there forever? Lwj somehow gets in there to stay with him, and has conversations with the demon. The demon is extremely strong, throws him around and hurts him a little. His brother and uncle are pacing outside the barrier demanding he come out. The elders want to execute wwx which is why lwj is in the cave in the first place.

It’s canon setting but I can’t remember the time line- war? No war? Wwx and lwj aren’t together yet though. I remember this fic being pretty good- I’d love to reread it!

FOUND!🔒 Breathing Firestorm by ladyshadowdrake (M, 110k, wangxian, angst, fluff, captivity, creepy WRH, no non-con, dreamsharing, politics, people making the best decisions they can, epic length, mythical creature WWX, canon-typical violence, dark, happy ending)

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14. hello!! thank you for all the work you do. i've been trying to find a fic in my bookmarks/ searching for it but i just can't seem to find it unfortunately. i remember it to be an arranged marriage au? where lwj and wwx loved each other very much but upon learning that wei wuxian's tail colour (or species) meant he would not settle, miscommunication happens and just angst. it is a happy ending though, because i think that another person tells lwj that wei changze's tail colour/species meant that wwx would be loyal to him? sorry if this is too broad, thank you!

FOUND? what you have tamed by lianhua_lianzi, Senforza (E, 94k, WangXian, Animal Traits, misunderstandings (not the romcom kind that can be resolved in a 5min convo), Courting Rituals, Pining, Lan family dynamics, Drama, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Arranged Marriage, Wangxian break up but get back together, Eventual Happy Ending, vague biological essentialism (animal species have different mating preferences), Canon Typical Alcohol Usage, Implied Mpreg, Unresolved Sexual Tension, unintentional and eventually resolved "gaslighting", Dragon LWJ, Fox WWWX)

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15. Hello! I am searching for a fic I read that I think was multiple short installments in a series on ao3. It was a war au where Wangji had presented as some kind of dragon and he was in charge of the Lan clan. Wuxian was a thief or mercenary. They had met as children and Wangji imprinted on Wuxian, but they parted ways then. They meet again on the battlefield and Wangji pulls Wuxian into his tent and is like “bathe him!” I think Wangji put a silver collar on Wuxian that Wuxian couldn’t remove on his own. There were dom/sub undertones. Any clue?

FOUND!🔒 Have him stripped, bathed, and brought to my tent by KizuKatana (E, 30k, WangXian, Dark LWJ, A/B/O, Huli-Jing WWX, powerplay/powerdynamic, dubcon (due to power dynamics), Overstimulation, Edging, Biting, Scenting, Possessiveness, LWJ Has a Big Dick, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, warlord, Emperor LWJ, civilian (sort of) captive (also sort of) WWX, dragon sex magic, Not traditional Chinese emperor history fully alternate reality of immortal creatures)

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16. HI, thanks for all your amazing work!! You rock!! Sorry to bother, but I hope I can get an answer!! I'm looking for a story were in the future, in space, Wei Wuxian is kidnapped everyone believes him dead and is used by Jin Guangshan and I think Xue Yang to try to destroy others. I think he has an implant that has prevented him from escaping but he manages to plant bombs and asks Lan Zhan to kill him when he finds him!! Please help!! be well!! @monicaop21

FOUND! Stars bring us apart (Stars pull us together) by Sixlayerhouse (sixlayerhouse) (E, 124k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, (Vaguely) Star Trek AU, Canon-Typical Violence, Psychological Trauma, PTSD, Body modifications, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Recovery, married!wangxian)

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17. Hi, I need some help looking for a fic on ao3 I was SO SURE I had bookmarked, but apparently not. The fic is Jingyi-centric and features a drunk jingyi trying to hit on Jin Ling's uncles at a bar, I'm fairly certain Jingyi is college age and the fic mentions sizhui and wangxian near the end. It was marked as complete, and I think it was a one-shot. Sorry if it's a bit vague, but it's been a while and I'm starting to think I just made it up if it hasn't been deleted. Thank you in advance! @angrymarconi

FOUND!🔒UILF by bosgood (T, 3k, JC/NHS, LSZ & NHS, JC & JL, NHS & the juniors, ONE-SIDED LJY/NHS and LJY/NHS/JC, and mention of ONE-SIDED LJY/WWX/LWJ, LJY has the UNREQUITED hots for JL's various uncles OK, unrequited, nothing happens!, featuring reactions ranging from laughing one's ass off to fully dying inside, Humor, I love the fics where LJY and/or OYZZ is like damn JL's uncle is fine, so this is my contribution to the genre, Modern, College, Established Relationship, WWX & LWJ are LSZ's parents, JL Has a Lot of Uncles, canon-typical junior shenanigans)

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18. Hey! There’s this thread fic I read a while ago, I believe it’s a “Bikini Armor” au? It’s where Knight!Lwj is meets another fellow knight (Wwx) on the road, but Wwx’s armor is magical? Basically it only visibly covers his privates and part of his chest, the rest is magic. I remember it was a punishment by Madam Yu, and that Lwj finds out when the armor breaks.

Ty!

FOUND? His Knight in Shining Armour by celerydragon (E, 23k, WangXian, dead dove do not eat, Curses, Sexual Abuse, Child Abuse, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Slut Shaming, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, yu furen sucks, protective lwj, Hurt/Comfort, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, mild dirty talk, Biting, Outdoor Sex)

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19. Hello!

I’m looking for a fix where Wei Ying is gorgeous and coveted by everyone. The junior quartet often have to run interference because he doesn’t realize it. I think an innkeeper’s brother lusts after him too. One of his admirers decides to capture and assault him. Thankfully, Wei Ying is able to use ghosts to overpower him. Eventually, Lan Zhan comes and rescues him. Please help me find this fic! Thank you very much!

FOUND! Cotton Wool by incendir (M, 34k, wangxian, LJY/OMC, JL/LSZ, JC & WWX)

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20. So I've lost a fic again, and I need your help once more!

So the premise of the fic was that lwj did enact that fantasy of taking wwx in the library when they were young, only after lwj internally freaks out and runs off to his brother for punishment because "xiongzhang I took someone by force 😢 I'm horrible"

I don't remember how exactly they got there but lxc gets lwj and wwx to talk, intending for wwx to decide how lwj should be punished as the wronged party. Except wwx somehow comes to the conclusion of "Let me f*ck (fuck) Lan zhan! 😠 he took me, so now I should take him!"

Things end happily but that's all I remember. Please help me! (And before anyone asks, no I'm not mixing it up with the Teapot Plot)

FOUND! My Boyfriend Is So Talented by Xiao_Zhang (E, WangXIan, Underage, Rape/Non-Con, Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Sex, LWJ gives in to his lust, Teenage Wangxian, Fluff and Smut, Rape/Non-con Elements, Humor, Romantic Comedy, Misunderstandings)

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