#this was almost a much longer chapter but I figured the next visit of future nhs could be posted on its own next week

[guapitas]

The Unwinding (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Chapter Four: Duality of Man

Chapters: one, two, three

Rated: Mature

Word Count: 5k

Summary: In the time that Cedric has to stay in the infirmary, the dire situation only escalates further. In light of a frightening realization, and with nowhere else to turn, you eventually find yourself at the foot of your only option, Draco Malfoy. (See the overarching summary for the future of this fic, here.)

Warnings: Language, I went a little heavy on the f-bombs in this one

Henry Selwyn fell asleep seven days ago. In a week’s time, you’ve become pretty certain about three things:

First, he doesn’t have a lot of friends— or very good ones, at least. His visitors have been mostly among Slytherin sorts, and many from the quidditch team. And after the first couple of nights, there were no recurring faces— or any faces at all, really. If his parents ever showed up, you never saw them. You think that perhaps you don’t know Henry as well as you had previously figured, and you can’t recall the last time you even spoke to him. 

Second, the nurses are utter gossips– and oblivious ones, at that. You turn down corners to grab lunch for Cedric, or to find the bathroom, and they’re hidden in the shadows. They whisper comatose and about Madame Amani’s various “failed attempts”, until they drop to a halt when you pass by. They refuse to reveal any information to the general public. 

And thus, third– Henry Selwyn may not be waking up anytime soon. 

By the time the weekend rolls back around, you and Marla know every nurse by name. You learned them all before she did; though the competition isn’t entirely fair, with how much spare time you have in comparison. Regardless, you’re just happy to keep Cedric company— even if it comes with the burden of his impossible essay. And at this fruitless rate, you sometimes fear that Cedric may go as mad as Henry did. 

“I don’t understand,” says Cedric, holding a large book open just inches above his face whilst he lies back on the bed, “How can there be literally nothing else? Nothing at all!” 

“Maybe we just imagined that first passage. Homework delirium, and whatnot.” You shrug from a visitation chair, your entire body sprawled out on its limbs and headrest. 

Wedged up next to a vase of tulips at his side table is the original text Cedric had read in the library, many moons ago now. It’s been opened and opened and opened, and now you can almost recite the key points by heart. 

“It can’t be…” In despair, Cedric exchanges his current read for the original book and lays it heavy on his forehead. He closes his eyes beneath it. Before you can ask what he’s possibly doing, he answers— “Literary photosynthesis.” 

You’re quite sure that he means osmosis, but, hell, why not? You aren’t sure how long he stays that way, but you’re confident that he’s managed to fall asleep by the time you pull out some readings for Herbology. The upside to all of this is having a consistent place to get schoolwork done— library be damned. You’ve never been so caught up on assignments before. So, with no particular desire to parade the infirmary halls, and while there are no meals left in the day to fetch, you study. 

The session, of course, is not destined to last any longer than fifteen minutes. You only manage to pick up on the first three points of a chapter about the ethics of magical plant production and use, before Marla is at the door and slipping through it. A black duffel bag hangs at her side, and her hair is wet— weighing it down to the longest you’ll ever see it, but only until the air dries it up again. The opening of her Slytherin robe reveals the black loungewear beneath, a typical comfort for post-dance class. 

And as if his name were called— and as if he had never been asleep at all— Cedric shoots up in his bed. He catches the book when it falls into his lap. “Tell me you have good news! I’ll take any news at all!” 

Marla props the door open with her bag– an attempt to bring the outside world to Cedric, she claims– and frowns, taking a stride or two over towards the bed until she can sit on the very edge of it. “They do love you, Cedric.” 

There’s a brief pause until a hard sigh hits his chest and his entire upper body deflates. “Oh, please, I won’t be injured forever! I could grab a broomstick right now and show them what I can do.” 

“You know they need more than that,” says Marla. 

The school books get tossed onto the floor below you as you chime in, “There are other games! Two more left in this term alone.”

“And how about the past decade I’ve been playing?” Cedric’s head tips back to thump against the wall, half-defeated. “Does that count for anything?”

Marla’s eyes meet yours for just a sliver of a second and you can sense the hesitation before she speaks. “You’ve had some… severe injuries in that time. This and, well, that break you took back at Hogwarts. They might be wary, that’s all.” 

The break, right. You didn’t need to know Cedric back in grade school in order to spot exactly what Marla is referencing. In the years you’ve known him now, he’s only discussed it once before– mostly clarifying details and going into depth about an event you had already heard every rendition of. The Triwizard Tournament. Just scarcely escaping the absentminded wrath of Voldemort. 

His eyes go up towards the ceiling as he nudges his jaw to the side, and before neither you nor Marla dare to continue, Cedric sweeps himself up and onto his feet. There’s a small wince in the twitch of his brow as he hauls his body over to the cabinet for his day clothes— not that he particularly needs them during his stay. Thus far, grey joggers and jumpers have suited him just fine. 

“What are you doing?” Marla sighs, sitting back as Cedric wills his body to move with minimal visible strain— in which he fails miserably, by the way. The doses of his medication and severity of his treatments go down with time— he’s getting better— but even a wizard’s anatomy doesn’t appreciate getting their ass beat mid-air. Whenever he’s on two feet, Marla always seems to be waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“I’m gonna show them,” he says, digging and tossing through the pile of clothes, “I’ll show them that I can play— that I’m more than some freak accident survivor. Or whatever it is they think of me.” 

You finally swing your legs around and pull yourself forward on the surprisingly plush chair. “Now? You can hardly walk straight down the hall, let alone fly.” 

When he doesn’t respond or even move an inch away from his spot, pulling out a fresh set of clothes instead, Marla insists, “Sit back down, Cedric. Don’t be irrational; think about your injuries—“

“To hell with the injuries!” He shoves whatever fabric he has in his fist back down into the pile, still facing the wall. And then he stills, everything stuck beside the heave of his shoulders. “With my body, my health— quidditch is what matters the most. I need to do this.” 

And even from the angle, you can tell Marla’s rolling her eyes– concerned, but entirely done with his theatrics. “Right, well, regardless, they aren’t going to see you now. Give it time, rest up, and play at your best during the next Hufflepuff match.” 

The reassurance consoles him, even if just for the moment. He pulls away from the cabinet and finally turns around, now with a face of defeat, and goes to say something– but he’s abruptly interrupted by a commotion of noise coming from the hallway. 

All three of your heads whip around to get a view through the open door as the sounds draw nearer. A collection of snarls and… growls, like a wild beast, become clear, accompanied by the general ruckus of voices. Everyone is frozen, silent in the face of intrusion, until half of what you hear is the thump of your own heartbeat. The other half is a girl’s clamor, and her ferocious shrieks; shoe soles screeching against the floor. And in another few seconds, they’re walking past the room– a herd of infirmary nurses and security, and in their restraints, a young girl– perhaps a first year– thrashing about. A pool of bubbles and spit collects at the corner of her mouth and, despite her shorter size, the hands on her biceps struggle to hold her in place. 

In the split second you see them pass by, her neck is thrown back, then to the left, then the right, and you think the security may have lifted her feet off the ground for an easier walk, but that only gives her more freedom to strike their legs. The red striped tie around her collar is half-way undone. Their appearance is brief, but nobody moves a muscle until the noise fades down to the end of the hall, and finally disappears behind the slam of a shut door. And once you can breathe again, you meet the eyes of Marla and Cedric. 

“What the hell?” says Marla, finally, and hushed, “Was that not Selwyn to a tee?” 

Cedric hobbles his way back to the bed and takes a seat, one hand up in his hair. Back at the game… yeah, she was definitely a spitting image of that Henry. It wouldn’t have been your first thought exactly, but there’s no denying it. The physical mannerisms, the entire disregard for anyone’s safety– even their own– and, in fact, it’s like they want to cause harm. You keep an ear out, listening for any other noise– particularly for a set of wheels rolling down the corridor. In any case, you hope that this girl was nowhere near as successful as Henry Selwyn was. 

When she doesn’t get a response, Marla continues, her eyes lingering towards the hallway now, “That was… boorish… She was like an animal.” 

You pin your gaze to the floor, letting Marla’s thoughts loiter around yours and– holy shit– surely not? There’s no fucking way. A sick lurch swirls down in your stomach and almost up your throat, and your heartbeat is picking up when you tear your attention over to that damn textbook. You’re almost too afraid to speak, or to do anything, concerned with looking foolish and, well, perhaps a part of you wants to be foolish. You want this to be an outlandish, coincidental connection. Fuck, you’re gonna be ill. 

With a lack of words, you throw yourself off the chair and snatch the book from Cedric’s bed. Your hands find the exact page and paragraph without even having to think about it, and yeah, there it is. You don’t even need to read the passage to know it, and the confirmation does nothing to quell the dread that’s slowly overtaking your body. 

Animalistic behavior, a perpetual state of sleep– god, it’s so fucking plain and right in your face that you almost refuse to entertain it at all. You have half a mind to shut the book and forget about it completely, when you remember that there are two pairs of curious eyes following you. 

“What’s up?” Cedric asks, head tilted back to watch. You look over at him from the book, and there must be something on your face, or in your stare, because it’s only just a second until he catches on. The book is resigned over to his hands in the moment that he reaches for it. 

“Tell me I’m crazy,” you say, the words clawing themselves out of your mouth. 

From the other end of the bed, Marla doesn’t have the quote ingrained into the crevices of her brain like you and Cedric do. She’s been spared. “You’re crazy. What’s going on?” 

“Oh, this fucking essay… there’s no shot,” Cedric moans, and you can’t decipher if what you see on him is distress or– excitement? He pulls the book into his chest and gapes hard over at you and Marla, giving a solemn nod. “This may be terrible for us… but this is a huge win for my thesis.”

While you resist the urge the physically fucking facepalm, Marla takes her turn with the text. She rips it from Cedric’s grip and lets him advise her, “Second to last paragraph on the left.” 

You can’t figure out which words would help to explain this situation– hell, you don’t even know what the situation is. There are two students seemingly undergoing this cryptic and disgustingly vague description, and you have no idea why or how. And, for some fucking reason, Cedric doesn’t look as sick as you feel. 

“Oh,” says Marla. Fucking oh. Are you the one overreacting here? Or, ideally, maybe you are crazy, and this correlation is actually irrational. Yes, yes, that must be it! And thank god, because you’d really much rather be a fool in this situation— and fuck, Marla and her calm voice— “This is happening. Now.” 

“It’s too perfect! I put a spin on this paragraph and write about how we’re literally seeing it taking place today, in this school. Oh, thank Merlin…” Cedric clasps his hands together and gives them a couple of shakes over each of his shoulders. 

Scratch that— they must be the insane ones. “Hello? Why are we not quivering in fear? Getting to the bottom of it all… or figuring out how to stop this before another student gets hurt?” 

Marla’s perfect posture slumps a little as she meets your eyes. For the first time maybe ever, she’s at a loss. “What do you suggest? Who do we talk to, what do we possibly do with this information?”

And it’s true, you have not a single answer for her. Nobody visits Henry anymore, and every nurse clams up at just the implication of discussing his condition– not to mention that this sort of murky relation might only be distinguishable by someone whose brain has been entirely atrophied by something like Cedric’s command to read.. All rationale left the building approximately three days ago, and everything else has gone downhill since then. Nobody would understand… and besides, what are the odds that this isn’t a coincidence? Maybe there’s nothing to report after all! 

God, you can’t tell if you’re gaslighting yourself into submission and, if you are, you clearly need to work on it. You must be making a face again, because when you stay quiet in response to Marla, the joy drops from Cedric’s expression. He sighs instead.

“Selwyn does get one visitor these days. Maybe we could exhaust that last resource.” 

“Oh? Who is it?” Marla asks.

Cedric frowns, as if this isn’t some of the most unexpected news of the night– definitely in the top three, if you’re ranking. It’s been days since you’ve seen anyone even linger around Henry’s door, nurses included. Finally, he admits, “Draco Malfoy.”

And– yep, yeah, of course it is. Why the fuck is this guy everywhere? After years of never catching a glimpse of him, now you can’t seem to escape. 

“When?” Your voice comes off more accusatory than inquisitive. Honestly, you don’t know why this is irking you so much– he’s done nothing wrong to you, and, actually, you’ve never even had a particularly unpleasant interaction with him thus far. Whatever the case, you push the train of thought outwards, because the longer you think about him or the little time you’ve spent together, the more your tummy hurts. On another day, you’ll really need to have a talk with yourself about getting in over your head with these sorts of things. 

“Every night, so far. I see him through the peephole.”

“You nosy ass,” says Marla as she falls back onto the mattress and crumpled up blankets, until she can peer directly up at you. Her hair is dry now, and she looks like an angel with the ringlets haloing around her head. “So? Are we doing this?”

Doing what? You’re still trying to wrap your mind around what the hell is happening– or if anything is happening at all. Half of you can’t believe that any of you are entertaining this idea. “We’ll come back tonight and talk to him.” You dart your eyes over to Cedric again. “Is he sneaking in?”

“Must be.” He piles all of his surrounding books onto each other and leaves the stack on his bedside stand. They clink against the glass vase. “He’s also rich and powerful, or whatever, so that’s worth something.”

Marla nearly laughs. “Sure, but that’s all he has going for him these days.” She rocks herself back up. “And he’s okay on the quidditch field.”

Alright, you’ve had enough of this particular route of conversation, and the deal is done regardless, so for now– “We should have our story straight when we fucking bombard him like this.”

“Yeah, our story, which is…?” Cedric crosses his arms. “There hasn’t been anything like this since grade school.”

In hindsight, that era of Hogwarts doesn’t feel so distant from now. And even though the subject at hand is grave enough, this certainly isn’t helping. Time is so fuzzy when you spend forty percent of it in the same room– you aren’t sure at which point in the past couple of weeks that your biggest troubles shifted from enrollment, to this. 

“Could someone be behind it all? An evil mastermind?” Marla suggests as she crosses her right leg over her left and cups her chin. 

“Maybe, perhaps a copycat?” You begin to pace around the tiny room, ignoring how dark it’s become outside, and hoping that the physical movement will encourage the cerebral. “Like, a bootleg Voldemort?” 

And it’s as if your body knows before your brain does, because you glance at Cedric as soon as the words leave you. He’s entirely unfocused– slipping away for a moment– and you’re about to apologize for even saying the name, but he’s back down to Earth before you get the chance. Surprisingly, he breaks into a smile, “A bootleg?”

Merlin, he can be such a simple man, and thankfully, both you and Marla adore him for it. You try to explain yourself through a fit of snickers, but the difficulty is only egged on by the eruption of theirs. Nothing is even funny enough to warrant this, but the scene is nice. It’s a delight to laugh under the weirdest of circumstances, and you’re grateful to be figuring this out with them, of all people. 

By the time you all manage to shut up, Cedric is practically shoving the two of you out the door. The stress of the day has exhausted him, but he promises that he’ll be awake later in the night, when you and Marla return. Funnily enough, the odds of that may be even lower than what it might take to bust this case open. All you can really do now is hope that you find what you’re looking for tonight– whatever the hell that may be.

---

If Draco Malfoy isn’t here, you’re going to kick his ass– royally so. Cedric claimed that he had been visiting every night since Henry fell asleep, always in the most ungodly of hours, and it would be just your luck for him to finally call it quits on the one instance that you’re here to meet him. 

And now, sneaking into the infirmary isn’t the hard part– it’s actually disappointingly easy to alohomora your way inside, and the single night guard is nowhere to be found anyway. In another life, you might raise awareness for the safety of overnight patients and staff, but there’s no place for that tonight. Instead, the difficulty reveals itself not only when you find Cedric knocked out cold in his bed, but also when you discover that you cannot open Henry Selwyn’s door at all. The knob twists but it doesn’t budge like Cedric’s does, and no amount of spells are cutting it this time. 

It becomes pretty clear that you are not getting into this room when even Marla’s efforts are futile. She curses under her breath after the fifth failed attempt, and your neck aches from all of the whipping it does as you keep a lookout. 

“What the hell is up with this doorknob…” You say to mostly yourself, as if the culprit could be anything other than a good charm, and you even kneel down to get a better look at it. It’s just a regular old handle– nothing visibly out of the ordinary– but you’re desperate, and that guard who slipped up earlier could be coming back any minute to strike. Marla takes a step back to relent, but even her focus remains on the door, like she’s pissed off at its defiance.

And that’s when footsteps creep up behind the both of you.

“Having much trouble?” 

You spring up faster than your knees would usually tolerate, turning to meet that confident, nonchalant voice– really, you shouldn't have had to look to know. With hands in his pockets, and that chain that drops from the left side, you can’t believe you didn’t hear him walking down the hall. 

“Hey,” you say, breathless, and hold back from cringing in on yourself– are you suddenly stupid every time he gets near? Who the fuck says hey? 

Meanwhile, Marla’s got one hand on her wand. “What are you doing out here?”

“Excuse me?” His chin dips, and he looks utterly incredulous, taken aback by the sheer audacity. He glances at you– “Hi–” then back to Marla. “I should be asking you both the same question.” 

His calm stance but firm voice does nothing to curb Marla’s defensiveness, so you intervene. “We wanted to talk to you, but…” You try the dumb doorknob again, to no avail. “We couldn’t get in.” 

And then he does something so fucking slick that it whirls your insides. He’s so sly with it, and if you blinked at the wrong time, you would’ve missed it entirely. His hand makes an appearance as he pulls it from his pocket and gives it a turn in the door’s direction, just a little jolt of his fingers, and then– click. 

If it were possible to make the facial expression equivalent to a question mark, you’d be doing it. Magic without a verbal spell is not unheard of by any means– in fact, there are many general requirement classes for that sort of magic in particular, and you’ve already taken two of them– but… damn. You can’t even say anything as he comes closer to lean in– a breath away from you– and twists the knob, pushing the door open ever so slightly, and then closing it again. “Better?”

You almost want to clap your hands at his finesse– do it again, do it again!– but the smoke steaming out from Marla’s ears reigns you in. Her cheeks have gone crimson and she presses onward, “What do you know about Henry Selwyn?”

“What? I don’t know anything.” For a second, the cockiness in his voice is replaced by contempt, until he meets your eyes again. “We should at least get out of the hallway before the interrogation.”

Even Marla can’t argue that. She opens the door and goes into the room first, and everything is normal, but when you follow her, the stiffness– the cold is overbearing. It’s as if the room exists simply to provoke you, to keep you out of it, and every step forward feels like two positive ends of a magnet getting closer. You think you can handle it, and that maybe a nurse left a drafty window open or something– but then you see him. Henry Selwyn.

His eyes are shut at least, and the covers go up to his collarbones… but his skin is so fucking pale, and his cheeks are hollowed out, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen lips so colorless before. Marla goes further into the room– identical but parallel to Cedric’s– as you stop dead in your tracks. An exhale that hits the back of your head doesn’t even phase you because you can’t focus on how close Draco is— all you can think about is getting your fucking feet to move. Just go. 

And, to be fair, you do try. But nope– nope, nope, nope. There’s no fucking way that you can stand in a room with him, with his fucking corpse. He’s alive, sure, but you can’t look at him for too long before the back of your hand meets your mouth, and averting your eyes doesn’t do any help. It’s still so weird— you know he’s there. 

Is this a taste of what insanity feels like? Maybe it’s the circumstances and the late hour– and Henry fucking Selwyn– but you must be losing your mind, because you really don’t mean to be so dramatic. And to make matters worse, the blood rushing to your head must be causing physical hallucinations now. Your altered state of mind could swear that there’s a gentle press on your lower back, but it’s gone before you even register its presence. 

“I’d much rather do this outside, actually.” Draco’s voice comes out from over your shoulder, and when you reluctantly go to look back at him, you’re instantly met with his gaze. From across the room, you can just about hear Marla’s scowl, but you nod graciously and follow his lead back out the door. 

The walk down the hall and right through the infirmary’s entrance is almost shameful– like a failed mission– but Draco is still here, one way or another. And although it’s an entirely different issue of freezing compared to Henry’s room, you endure it for the occasion. 

“Why are you here?” He’s the first to speak up once you find a nice, tall streetlamp to stand beneath, right outside of the building. The warm yellow shine isn’t very bright, but it hits him just enough to make him out. 

You fold your arms across your chest to block out the cold. “We needed to talk to you.” 

“And what? A Divination classroom couldn’t suffice?” 

“It’s about Selwyn,” says Marla, sharp. She has a proper coat with her now, prepared for the weather, but you think that she would thrive under any conditions, regardless of wardrobe. 

When Draco doesn’t verbally respond, you start from the beginning. In a roundabout way of things, you open with Cedric’s essay, and that afternoon in the library— the frustratingly brief phenomenon. Henry Selwyn, and then when that girl came into the infirmary… What was her name again? 

“Rebecca Avery,” he says, interjecting to fill in your gaps. 

Marla squints and takes her opportunity to pry. “You know her?” 

“Of her. She’s a pureblood.” When this gets no satisfying reaction from neither you nor Marla, he sighs. “I was raised to know these sorts of families, you know… the right sort, the wrong.” And then he shrugs, like his upbringing was even remotely normal in comparison to anyone else’s– let alone to anyone else in this conversation alone. 

The tangent throws you off track, but you eventually find your way back to the story. You explain the connections, the overlaps in behavior, the fucking perpetual state of sleep— you’re anxious all over again. And when you give a great sigh, vocal chords exhausted from a loaded ramble, Draco just… fucking blinks at you. His face is no different than when you began, and sure, you don’t know what kind of response you expected— or even wanted— but, for Merlin’s sake, anything would be better than his grand ordeal of nothingness. 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

Okay, well, that’s a… good question– a great one, actually. Why are you telling him this? Because there’s no one else to tell? Or because there’s a chance that he might have some brilliant, key piece of information that could explain everything? You don’t really know. 

Your mouth opens, and absolutely no words come out. For a moment, you’re stunlocked by the hold of Draco’s cool eyes, until Marla comes up with an answer for you– succinct and good enough. “We think this may be serious.” 

“What an astute observation you’ve made.” His voice is suddenly coated with sarcasm, and his frustration is reverberating back onto you. “Shall we go to the headmaster about it? I’m sure even the Daily Prophet would love to hear all about this one. Might throw you lot a ceremony for your wits, bet Diggory can be the mascot–”

“Alright,” you say, entirely fed up, and just before Marla can stick her wand right down his esophagus. The breeze is really starting to chip at your skin, and Draco’s shitheadedness at your mediating resolve. “My fault for thinking that you might actually be interested in this, or in figuring out what the hell is going on.” 

You’ve known this guy for less than a month now, but in an instant, he’s unleashing a whole new layer of attitudes. For example– this is the first time he’s properly glared at you. “Yeah, your fault it is, then.” 

This time you’re the one halfway to your wand when Marla juts in. She’s sharp, eyeing him up and down like a bug beneath her boot. “I’m surprised you’re not jumping at this opportunity, Malfoy, to make up for daddy’s war crimes.” …And now it’s Marla’s turn to get side-eyed by you, because you had no intention of aiming so low– bringing his family into this? His past? It’s increasingly clear that Draco hadn’t been expecting this attack either, because he isn’t quippy enough to beat her to the next line. Instead, Marla continues with another punch that makes you wince. “You want to move on so badly– to pretend that you’re this new, changed man, but you’re the same coward you’ve always been. It’s pathetic.”

“Hold your tongue when you don’t know a damn thing about me.” He shoots his look back over to you, stone-faced and glowering. “And count me out of your juvenile schemes. I want no part in any of it.”Then, before you can say anything, he’s gone. He storms off, down the side of the infirmary wall and out of sight when he makes a left turn. And now you can’t even bring yourself to face Marla again, teeth grit to keep from chattering and wondering how a simple conversation could possibly escalate this far. Whatever direction this night was supposed to go in, you’re sure this is the exact opposite.

[kiliinstinct]

Chapter 32

Rating: R Pairing: Nalu FF.Net || AO3 [Ch: 1] ||| [Prev] | [Next] Well, this was a doozy and took longer to update than I wanted. Special thanks to @phoenix-before-the-flame as always. And I'd also like to give another special thanks to @genavere for helping motivate me to get this chapter out. A few set backs had drained my inspiration for this and she helped put me back on track! See This Post For News About Future Updates The post linked above is an older one, so I'll also say this here, Flame's Desire Will be back with the Start of Act 3, but like last year, I'm going to take a 2 month Vacation from it to get my stuff back in order. So expect me to come back by the End of August! Enjoy!

Soft breathing broke through the quiet settling in the still room. The chaos that ensued mere moments ago still echoed in the minds of Natsu and Lucy; Both kept their distance from the other, too afraid to speak first.

Natsu sat upon the charred bed, head in his hands. Fingers dug into his scalp as he pulled at his hair in frustration. As if attempting to keep his broiling emotions under control through distracting pain. Holding back a pitiful whine, Natsu grew all-too aware of his reddened cheeks. Not from the magic that sizzled beneath his skin, just waiting to explode at the slightest drop in concentration, but at the shame filled embarrassment that rolled in his gut. Likewise, a similar embarrassment painted Lucy’s face. Sitting on a dust-covered chair in the corner, she twiddled her fingers. Unable to sit still, Lucy crossed and uncrossed her legs, eyes looking this way and that. Her face was burning, her neck and ears pounded in tune with her heartbeat. Searching for a distraction, she kept her gaze everywhere but Natsu. She couldn’t face him. 

Not yet.

Both were too lost in the maze of their own minds to figure out what to do next. He could still feel her lips against his; Still taste the slightest hints of her on his split lip. The memory swam behind his eyelids, refusing to sink under the rest of his emotions. Her frame, soft in his arms —and the sheer comfort of having her close — made him feel empty at the loss.

He needed to regain control of his emotions before they clawed their way back up his throat and exploded another hole through the keep.

That was his goal.

It should have been his main focus, but this new development knocked him flat off his feet.  He didn’t even have anyone to blame other than his own, impulsive self.

Lucy was a welcome relief that he desperately wanted to cradle in his arms and tightly hold onto. While concerned for his health, she had entered his room without pity, without fear — so unlike what he’d become used to over the last few days. Despite Makarov straining against his own injuries during his visits, it only served to fill Natsu with so much guilt he couldn’t breathe. And then there was Lucy… a balm he feared to lose after his days of isolation.

Once Freed and Levy had visited, mostly to reinforce the runes placed on his door. And though they attempted to speak with him, Natsu had stubbornly pulled the sheet over his head as they worked, refusing to speak with them.  He couldn’t stand the pity in their gazes, or the way they tip-toed around him as if afraid he’d pop off a second time. 

He’d almost done the same when Lucy had come knocking. It was too exhausting, too debilitating to continue seeing the results of his lack of control. He had been seconds away from shouting at his new visitor to leave him alone until Lucy’s voice broke through his discomfort like a siren song.

It took all the control he could muster not to tear the door off its hinges when he threw it open to see her.

The sight of Lucy gave him such exaltation that he reacted before his thoughts could catch up. Instinct needed to hold Lucy tight and let her calming aura seep into his very being until all he could feel was the gentle magic she possessed, pulsing beneath her skin.

In those span of seconds of holding Lucy tight, the warring thoughts in his mind went quiet and his vision clouded. What came next? … he… he wasn’t so sure after that. 

It wasn’t until she bit hard on his lip, palm striking across his cheek, that sense finally returned to him.

Natsu released her immediately, eyes wide as the world froze. He struggled to put together exactly what he’d done while Lucy had spared no moment to scramble as far from him as possible.

When she had slipped in her rush, Natsu was coherent enough to steady her with a hand on her shoulder. But Lucy slapped his hand away with wide eyes. He was confused at first, uncertain why she would wish to run from him, but the sight of her sucking in air as if she’d been drowning, lips swollen as she shook, made Natsu finally step back. A part of him focused on her lips for a second too long before he realized exactly what he’d done.

He really fucked everything up. 

Having the time to gather his thoughts and think clearly, Natsu stole a glance towards Lucy as he released his grip on his hair.  Her face was still red, but carefully set in a neutral expression that gave nothing of her inner thoughts away. If not for her restlessly twitching fingers, he may have thought she’d gone numb from shock. 

“I- … Lucy-” And words stuck like moss in his mouth, filling his throat and lungs until all he could do was stare at the floor. 

Seeming to have better control of her vocal faculties, Lucy inhaled deeply as she replied, “I want you to start talking now. And you better have a good reason or else I’m going to make sure my hand leaves a proper mark when I slap you again. You can’t just give a girl her first - “

“I don’t know why I did that.” Natsu interrupted, words practically tripping over themselves as they fell out his mouth.

She paused, her neutral mask cracking, “... it … was a whim?”

 Natsu leapt to his feet in a flash, “No!” He protested as an underlying edge of panic filtered through him.

“Then what was it?!” She demanded. “Why-” “I don’t know!!”

Natsu knew it sounded foolish. Ridiculous even, but what else could he say? 

Lucy’s mouth fell open, ready to respond in a fury Natsu felt was more than deserved. She had every right to tear into him. The scathing words he expected never came, however, as the words caught in her mouth, only to die a second later. She sighed instead, shoulders sagging as every ounce of her fury escaped through that one, deep, exhale. 

Instead, she pinched her nose, eyes shut tight as she struggled to hold back a wave of frustrated tears.

Panic set in. He’d made her cry. Despite her attempts to remain calm, he’d done the one thing he never wanted to do. Reflexively Natsu stepped forward, intending to console her, but forced himself to stay in place a second later. She wanted distance: he should give that to her…. right?

It wasn’t right. Natsu didn’t dare offer comfort now . Not without permission. Indecision and discomfort settled sickly in his stomach as wispy tendrils of smoke curled off his shoulders. His words were useless, coming out faster than he could process as he struggled to say anything that could fix things. But what could he say when he didn’t fully understand his own actions?

“I mean, it’s not like I didn’t enjoy kissing you-” No, that was wrong.

“I mean, I never thought about it before until right now, but -” That somehow sounded even worse! 

Growling, Natsu groaned as he tugged at a strand of his pink hair. The stone beneath his feet was starting to melt as the build of magic and emotion grew too much yet again. Ugh, why was this so hard? Lucy wasn’t responding, and he couldn’t look at her again, shame filling his gut like a cascade of stones.  Frustration at his inability to explain himself made his eyes water.

What was wrong with him?

Ever since the beginning, he’d been pushing his luck with her. Natsu knew that. What started as duty turned to friendship and friendship turned to… he couldn’t put it into words. It was some connection that compelled him to stay near right until she’d screamed those awful words at him. Despite assuring him otherwise, Lucy’s panic over being touched still echoed in his memories. 

It was his fault then. Reminding her of the horrors of their first meeting was his doing. And while he’d once promised never to give her a reason to remember, he’d broken that vow.

First nipping her when he was half asleep at the tower and now this? His knees buckled as he attempted to reign in his magic. How was he any better than the man that night? Forcing himself on her, saying things like–

Natsu stilled, eyes wide. He recalled his earlier words, pounding into his reddened ears, ‘It's about time you got here’

Why did he say that?

He suddenly couldn’t breathe. The heat of his embarrassment and shame was unbearable as he pleaded for her to leave the room. She shouldn’t be here. She didn’t need to see him like this. Natsu didn’t deserve the company, didn’t deserve the chance to explain – his thoughts derailed as Lucy moved, the chair clattering behind her. Grasping his face with cool, soft fingers, she kept his gaze on hers, lowering them both to the floor as she brushed the hair from his eyes. “Hey, Hey, shhh, calm down-” She said, brows knitting together at his answering, pathetic whine, “Your magic is going crazy, shhh.”

Battling with his broiling emotions and the struggle to breathe, Lucy stayed close, prying his hands from his scalp and holding them tight. The words she spoke melding into the background, muted by his own pulse. He clung to her hands like a lifeline, grounding himself as the steam continued to rise off his heated body.

Sweat beaded on Lucy’s brow, his own body heat treating the room like a mini sauna. Strands of her hair stuck to her neck as she powered through the heat. He needed to stay in control, before it became too much, before he -

He tried to tell her to leave again, but she stayed, mumbling quiet assurances that he couldn’t catch over his own, labored breaths. 

Seconds turned to minutes. And with time, the air returned to normal as the steam dissipated. Natsu focused on her hands, glowing in a soft, ethereal light, blanketing him in a cold that soothed his magic.  When his senses returned, tears were streaming down his cheeks and his body shook from the exertion. “... I’m so sorry-” He pleaded, exhaustion and hopeless desperation bleeding from his every word, “I… I missed you… And then you were here and I hadn’t seen anyone in days and I just- “

He just… what? How could he explain what he also didn’t understand?

“... take deep breaths,” her words finally reached him, talking him through the aching terror in his chest as her magic answered him. Lucy’s magic spilled from her fingertips, flowing freely in warm golden threads that pulsed weakly, wrapping his arms and torso in a soft light. The rhythmic thrums became a subtle call to calm the beast of power inside him.

Her voice pulled him back into focus, “That’s it, just keep breathing. Remember what you told me before? You’re okay, it’s going to be okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.”

Stunned, Natsu blearily lifted his head, confused,“But I-” “Yes,” She clarified, covering his mouth, cheeks still red, “You crossed a boundary, and we’re going to talk about it. But I need you to understand that I’m not going anywhere. You’re still my friend. I didn’t sneak up here just to run away. ”

Her firm declaration forced a startled sob from him. He curled in on himself, finally allowing the grief and guilt to escape him. All that’d he’d held back, the crushing weight of all his wrongs that he’d stuffed away cascaded down his face.

How long had it been since he’d cried so openly in front of another, without the cover of night to hide behind? Since he’d allowed himself to fall apart? 

So many secrets, so many things he feared speaking of; And now his Chief, a man he saw as his own family, was permanently injured. The loss of control Natsu thought he’d left behind in a childhood he believed to be separate from himself was coming back to haunt him. And now this.

Lucy didn’t deserve this.

She didn’t deserve his lack of understanding, his inability to control his emotions, his touch, his —  the sobs shook his shoulders and he held himself against her. He soaked in the comfort she willingly gave. Apologies tumbled from his lips over and over again until he no longer understood what he was sorry for. She took it in. He couldn’t explain it, but she held him tight and let his emotions spill out of him like an ocean until his eyes burned and the tears dried, staining his face.

When he could cry no more, Natsu held still, spent of his energy. His throat felt raw and bleeding and his stuffed nose was irritating. He knew his eyes hardly fared any better, puffy from his emotions. For a moment, Natsu wanted to cover his face, but he was too tired to move. He chose to wait for Lucy to make the next move, instead. 

He’d crossed enough boundaries for one day.

The seconds passed by and Lucy, lost in thought, continued to run her thumbs over his scarred knuckles. It was….strange to see Natsu like this. She knew he had his secrets -everyone did- but to witness him at such a loss was a different thing entirely. It hurt to see her friend so normally full of life terrified of things he couldn’t name.

Just how much was he holding in? How deeply did his grief run?

Lucy didn’t have the answers, but whatever had led him to this breaking point could wait. As he'd done for her, she would help him over this hurdle even if it meant sitting with him till sunrise. Then she'd get answers.

Minutes bled steadily by, matched by the lack of circulation in her legs and the muscles twinging in protest. In response, she tugged him closer, pressing his ear against her chest and continuing the soft circles over the back of his hand that matched the beat of their hearts. A moment of hesitation hung between them when he tensed against her, and she feared he would bolt.

However, that fear dissipated with each labored breath that slowed and left her shivering from the differing temperatures. Slowly, as the tension lessened and his weight increased, she could feel him piecing himself back together—or attempted to. Even a shattered mirror would show the cracks once repaired.

“Natsu?” she hummed his name gently, enquiring.

Burying his face further into her shoulder remained the only answer he had for her, one she seemed to accept for the time. Grateful for the extra time, he focused on the scent on her skin—a distinctly Lucy infusion of spice and something that reminded him of that moonlit night on the beach. Breathing became easier, and his thoughts less muddled. 

And that clarity brought a sigh to his lips. There would be no running away from this mess. Lucy was too smart and knew him too well. She’d give him a push, but he’d have to open up first if he wanted this cleared up between them.

“A lot…” —he swallowed through the pain and discomfort in his throat— “a lot happened.”

Lucy snorted,  “I couldn't tell-”

“Oi,” He defended, popping his head up and pouting. “I'm trying here. Really.”

“I am, too.” Her voice, a soft caress to the tatters of his being, wormed their way into his chest and stoked the growing ember. Even with her thinly veiled threat that followed, “I’m trying hard enough to give you a chance to explain yourself while I weigh whether I should slap you again for good measure or not.”

Maybe not so thinly veiled, Natsu let out a low chuckle and motivated himself to finally put some distance between them. “I wouldn’t stop you if you did. Maybe you’d knock some sense into me.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took a moment of reprieve to gather his thoughts—or tried to. He rocked back onto his heels and felt the pull of the freshly healed scars. “I wouldn’t know where t'start, if I'm honest.”

“How about explaining why you were moved from house arrest to an actual cell,” Lucy offered, scooting around to sit next to him and stretched her legs out.

Natsu ran a frustrated hand over his face and flopped back against the cool, stone floor—a welcome balm compared to the emotions stirring inside. “The actual cells are downstairs,” he explained, staring at the ceiling. “This is just the old man’s extra room. He thinks its best I stay here ‘til I get a handle on myself.”

“But he still hasn't told anyone else why,” Lucy interjected, the accusation already pouring from her lips. “It's like everyone who was there is keeping it one big secret!”

“...Probably ‘cause he wants to make sure I wont blow up a room again when he does,” Natsu said with a shrug.

“Oh right, that.” The reminder of the now gaping hole in the keep mollified her. “Why…?” She let the question hang unfinished between them. 

Natsu swallowed, mouth dry, ”I lost my temper, and I– I ain't exactly right in the head right now, so I don’t blame ‘em. I scared everyone pretty good when I snapped over something stupid and got tossed in here. And I—it’s just—” 

He sighed, trying to gather his thoughts. “Everything's all over the place, and I was just feeling too much when you came in. It was…good to see someone who wasn't staring at me like I was a bomb or something.“ 

”So…you kissed me because I don't expect you to blow out another wall?“

When she put it like that, he had to wonder why she decided to stay and not turn tail immediately. “No, that’s not…I mean…Yes? Or maybe? I was just feeling too much at once and my body reacted before my brain could.”

Her silence spoke volumes; he quickly raised a hand and continued, ”Don't take that the wrong way or anything! S’not like I'd have done that to just anyone who came to visit! But that doesn't mean I understand why that was the urge I had when I saw ya, either! ...Damnit, why is this so hard to explain?!“

“Because it's embarrassing, Natsu!“ she hissed, covering her face with a whine. ”VERY embarrassing! We’ve never done that before! I’ve never done that! We’re friends! Close friends, but still only friends! We can’t—we don’t—! We don’t even like each other like that, Natsu!”

“…But… I do like you.” 

Lucy blinked through her fingers, “...Come again?“ 

“I DO like you,” He emphasized, scratching the back of his head and realized what his words meant. Not just for himself, but for Lucy, too. Everything slowed as he focused on emphasizing what needed to come across in a form of communication he always struggled with. “At least, I'm pretty sure I do. I’m just not sure what kind of like that is.”

“So you,” she started slowly, trying to understand clearly, “are not sure how you like me?”

“I’m sorry!” he blurted out, fixing his gaze on the wall ahead. “I can't say there ain’t somethin' there, I just haven't really thought about it, and—and after what—'' Lucy heard the click of his teeth as he quickly shut his mouth, backtracking on his words. “ I put you in a weird spot. If you still wanna hit me, you can. I deserve it.”

“No!” She felt him pulling away and felt trepidation choke her. “It’s just...I guess that makes sense?” Her voice wavered, the words more of a squeaking sound. But, a weird sense of satisfaction pushed down the panic earlier as she watched color creep up the back of Natsu’s neck. 

It also brought clarification.

Why wouldn’t it make sense, she mentally chastised. Since they had met, every interaction, every emotion that they shared had been carefully tucked away. A connection born from when he had seen her at her worst, and helped her to find her footing in a new place that she wanted to call home so badly. They were…close but even Lucy had to question herself in moments of solitude. Her swiftness in seeking him out when things felt off, the peace his presence often brought.

Their friends could view what they had however they wanted. Tease them from an outsider's perspective. 

She had never thought of it beyond the line she firmly drew. Nor did she want to before.

“I’m confusing myself,” Natsu muttered after some time.

Lucy coughed out a helpless laugh, burying her face in her hair. “This is…not how I was expecting all this to go. It’s…” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “...awkward…”

And that was an understatement if either of them ever heard one.

“I’m not happy about what you did.” The words were forced, her lips pursed together as tightly as the grip of her fingers on her skirt. But the words rang true, the bitter taste of lies nowhere to be found. 

Natsu mumbled, eyes lowered. “I know.”

Slowly, feeling consumed with emotions she still struggled to name, much less handle, Lucy allowed herself to take in the expanse of his marred back. Earlier, her mind could not grasp the discolored skin, the erratic scarring of Laxus’ magic that warped flesh and muscles. Every raised portion, each jagged edge looked painful even with the healing magic she could feel it doused in.

Would it ever fully fade, she wondered, reaching out to touch without permission.

The skin felt stranger than she had imagined. A softness that belied the truth of how it was imparted. Biting her lip, Lucy carefully moved her fingers to the only spot devoid of scarring over the whole of his back. She caught his gaze over his shoulder and felt the fluttering of her heart at the small glimpse of red on his cheeks and soon the back of his neck again—a similar color to her own cheeks, she knew.

“But it’s something we can move on from right? It’s not… this whole—” She waved a hand around between them, “—This situation between us isn’t what we expected. There is something between us, but, maybe, right now isn’t the best time when neither of us are in the right state of mind to figure it out.

She took a breath, and with a finger and a look, gave him a pointed warning. ”So, just don’t do that again without warning. And, I don’t know, ask first? Then it’ll be fine when we sort ourselves out.”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, stomach twisting and churning, “Yeah, I can do that.”

For a split second, Natsu thought he saw disappointment flash across her face, but it was gone too fast to register. It gave the distinct feeling of missing a step in the dark, but the relief he felt strongly overpowered the sensation. She didn’t hate him. She was fine. She understood, maybe. She wasn't going to leave-

He took a breath, trying to calm the inane spiraling he could feel pulling at his sanity, and focused on Lucy. Heat and iron warring in his chest at the tentatively hope blooming there.

“So,“ he prompted, “are we...good?”

Her smile settled the tension in his heart, the heat radiating outward and the iron raising him up. “Yeah, we're good for now.” Though he didn't have much longer to relax, as her attention turned back to the other elephant in the room, “But you still need to tell me exactly why you’re stuck in here.”

He groaned. Damnit, did he have to tell her all THAT too?!

.

.

.

Their conversation went well into the early morning. Once Natsu began, Lucy couldn’t stop asking questions. It wasn’t until the first chirps of birdsong reached their ears that Natsu cut her questions short, reminding her of the time. “The old man’s gonna be coming soon. He always drops by with food so I don’t eat alone. And he hasn’t been late yet.” 

With the time fast approaching, Lucy didn't have time to process their earlier conversation or the retelling of events that happened the day before. What's more, she knew without a doubt that Natsu still hadn’t told her everything that had transpired. 

Recalling the way he'd burnt her and the damage to his house, it wasn’t hard for her to accept that he’d lost control of his temper. What she couldn’t accept was laying the blame all on Natsu. Every situation lately had come up after the arrival of that Draconis, Gajeel. This stranger seemed well equipped with enough knowledge to poke the Natsu’ buttons with ease, which she said as much, pressing into the last few minutes they had until she forced herself to leave.

When Natsu heard the truth in her words, he fumbled, eyes darting to the wall as words tumbled from his mouth in quick succession. “And he was a jerk who said too damn much and pissed me off!” He snapped, flinching when Lucy pinned him with an imperious stare. 

He skimped on the details of what Gajeel had actually said and she knew it, “... He uhh..I think he knows me, from before I came here. And he said some stuff about that…”

He hated thinking of it. The fact he'd lost sight of friend or foe in that moment, weighed heavily on his shoulders. He didn't want to relive it again, even to tell Lucy the truth.

So he didn't.

"...The others, if I asked them what he said, would that upset you?" Lucy asked cautiously.

Natsu knew Makarov had sworn them to secrecy, it was something the old man drilled into him on each visit, a constant reassurance that his secrets would stay just that. He knew this, but a horrified grimace still shadowed his features from where he lay, telling Lucy all that she needed to know. 

Lucy sighed, picking at the hem of her skirt nervously before her final question, "Ok. Then will you tell me when you're ready? I'll wait."

He desperately wanted to say no. The vicious thought of how rumors of his lineage would spread through the village crossed his mind. No, Lucy would never do that, but what if she turned away from him? If he dared to tell her what lay buried away inside, would she still see him in the same light once she knew?

Natsu stayed quiet, nodding instead. She had given him a choice, not a time limit, and he'd tell her when ready.

Didn't she also have things she didn't care to speak of? 

Her train of thought followed the same lines as the conversation abruptly ended. Both were unsure how to continue. While Natsu fretted over the details he wished not to face, Lucy reached for him, gently rubbing his shoulder.

"I know it's hard," She murmured, sweeping a stray strand of hair from her eyes, "when all the pain you don't want to think about gets brought up against your will. I understand. ... thanks for telling me as much as you could."

Natsu felt like the breath was stolen from his lungs at that moment. His eyes stung with unshed tears. He refused to cry again, he’d already broken down once. He'd burdened her enough with his lack of control.

"Makarov's gonna be here soon," He reminded, easing away from her touch. He grunted with effort as he rose to his feet, his shoulders tense with apprehension. Lucy looked as if she wanted to call out to it, but fell silent when he offered his hand. “You should get outta here before he catches ya.”

And that was that.

Lucy saw the dismissal for what it was and took the invitation, allowing Natsu to lead her out. But not before crushing Natsu in a tight, desperate hug that made the pressure in his chest better and worse all at once. He sucked in air like a drowning man when she released him, leaving behind remnants of her scent on his skin.

It was dizzying, but relief flooded him the moment the door clicked shut. He had too much to think about after today and his head hurt from the enormity of it. 

Lucy, on the other hand, wavered behind the door as soon as she left. Something inside her screamed to stay, to keep him company and damned what Makarov said when he arrived. But she also didn't want to push her luck. They both needed a break, him especially and she...

She leapt back from the door as if it had shocked her, face flaming red as she thought back on their earlier conversation.

Did she... basically tell him she shared the same confused feelings he had? 

"Oh god," She whined, panicking, lacing her voice as she rushed back down the stairs, "what did I say that for?!"

Fortune proved to be on her side. Too wrapped up in her racing thoughts to be cautious and hide her presence, Lucy raced down the halls. However none one was around to catch her when she finally made it out into the open air, cheeks still brightly aflame as she ran home. 

Lucy thought of many things as she went. Every piece of information circulated from one emotion to the other. Her embarrassment would jump to worry, then to anger and frustration as she thought back to Natsu alone in that room. After blowing up so much of the keep, she understood Makarov's reasoning, but the Draconis' desperate tears as he clung settled against her skin like an invisible brand.

Natsu was suffering... That alone was enough to make her insides squirm and feel sick. 

She thought, now that Kage was dealt with, that her odd dreams and premonitions of danger would be long gone, but these new developments overlayed that hope with a deeper apprehension.

Just what exactly was going on? 

And that question, wrapped along in the seriousness of Natsu's explosive temper, circled her right back to her earlier embarrassment. Running a finger over her lips– the ghost of her own touch was nothing like the searing kiss that he gave – pulled her deeper into distraction. She struggled to ignore it. Skewed priorities, Lucy figured, but she managed to put the issues aside in lieu of eating the moment her home came into view.

Hopefully the Draconis had his meal already and maybe, just maybe, Makarov would realize just how strained Natsu was with this whole ordeal and change his mind. These were a lot of hopes that Lucy held tightly to as she thought over what dried fruits she had to nibble on for breakfast.

-Only for those thoughts to fly out the window as she opened her door and came face to face with the Chief, sitting calmly at the table as if he lived there.

"What the hell are you-" She shrieked, mind catching up with her just in time to change her wording, "Sorry! That... slipped out."

Amusement crinkled the edges of Makarov’s eyes as he smiled. And for the first time, the romni got a good look of the bandages covering half his body beneath the jacket. Though the table hid most of him from view, Lucy feared the wrappings covered far more than anyone would have liked. 

Her earlier apprehension blossomed anew as she shut her door with a shaking hand. He shouldn't be here alone, she surmised. Not with injuries like that. Looking around the room, Lucy searched for any other intruders, pulling a laugh from the elder.

"You're right to suspect another," Makarov said, wincing as his chuckles stretched a sore muscle, "She's next door with Mirajane. Porlyusica wouldn't let me too far from her sight even if I ordered it. And she's interested in giving you another check up."

The ‘she’ll be back soon’ was left unsaid, but understood.

Well, that answered one thing at least. Lucy furrowed her brow, unaware her earlier shock had melted into aggravation. "... Natsu said you were supposed to visit. Whose with him now then?"

A brow raised, “So you've seen him after all, have you?”

Lucy cursed inwardly: busted by her own big mouth.

But fury spurred her onward, kicking respect out the window before she could collect herself, "No one ELSE was telling me anything, were they? I like it here, but the way you keep everyone in the dark while you deliberate with only a few people is almost TOO much for me! You know what? I'm not even sorry. Do what you want with that!"

An aggrieved sigh escaped Makarov as he deflated, slowly repositioning himself to lean against the table. 

For that moment, he didn't look the part of an elder or a Chief. Just a tired, hurt man, with too much weight on his shoulders. He looked small. His eyes were downcast, tracing the grooves in the wood without a sound. Almost like a child being scolded. 

It was almost enough to mollify her, but not enough.

"You make an excellent point," He said after a time, just when Lucy thought the silence between them would drive her to shout more obscenities at him, "and I'm willing to discuss this. In fact, that's exactly why I'm here.  Please, sit down, Lucy, you shouldn't have to over use your magic in your own home."

It was a well-placed observation that made her realize just how tired and sore she felt. The magic she called to support her leg was becoming second-nature, but the drain on her body was immense after a full day of use. She slid to a chair and breathed in deep to collect herself.

It seemed, she was in for another long talk; She mourned the loss of getting a little shut-eye and a light meal. 

 Makarov wasted no time. Once she was comfortable, he cut to the chase, folding his fingers together as he watched her with a hard, unreadable stare, "I'd like to speak with you regarding your place here in the village. And whether you would consider leaving." 

He waited for a response, unaware of his words shooting Lucy’s heart out of her body and into a dark void. The world dropped out around her, suspending her in nothingness.

.... what?

[ibijau]

Futures Past pt15 / on AO3

Nie Huaisang returns to the Unclean Realm after his failed year in Gusu

The Unclean Realm, usually a noisy place, had fallen nearly entirely silent as most of the disciples and quite a few servants gathered around its gate. They were all careful to keep a respectable distance from the gate in question, in case things went wrong, but still did their best to be close enough to get a good view. Not that it was particularly necessary to be near enough to hear what was happening. Nie Mingjue had a voice that carried, and it only got worse when he was angry at his brother.

Which he currently was, of course, and for good reason everyone thought. After all, Nie Huaisang had just returned from his time studying in the Cloud Recesses, though he’d apparently done little learning there.

But it wasn’t his failure to pass his exams that had his brother so upset. It was more the fact that on the way back home, Nie Huaisang had decided to leave on his own and disappeared for well over three weeks. The other Nie disciples travelling with him had just found a note on his bed one morning announcing that he didn’t feel like going home yet. They had panicked and sent an urgent message to their sect leader, who had also panicked and launched a search for his brother, in vain.

“You could have been kidnapped!” Nie Mingjue shouted at his brother, who had arrived that morning, looking as careless as if he’d just been gone for a shichen on an errand. “You could have been attacked by bandits! Did you even have your sabre with you?”

“Of course I did!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, patting the weapon at his waist. “What was I going to do, walk around?”

“It would have been safer than flying in your case! What if you’d fallen?”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes. His cultivation had actually improved quite a bit while he was in the Cloud Recesses, if only because the Lans didn’t let him avoid training as much as his brother did. He was even quite close to forming a golden core, something he’d more or less given up on, and for which he hoped he’d get praised, whenever his brother calmed down enough to hear the news. So while he wasn’t the strongest of flyers, he was doing much better than he used to.

Not that Nie Mingjue was in any mood to hear that.

“I was careful, I swear,” Nie Huaisang sighed. “You’re always saying I should be more independent anyway!”

“Independent, not reckless! And who’s that?” Nie Mingjue roared, pointing at the person next to his brother.

That had been the question on everyone's mind since Nie Huaisang had arrived a little earlier, a boy much younger than himself walking at his side, but so far Nie Huaisang had avoided answering.

“Oh, that’s Xue Yang,” Nie Huaisang cheerfully announced, patting the young boy’s shoulder. “I picked him up along the way. You should test him, I really think he’s going to be a great cultivator someday! Xue Yang, that’s my brother, say hi to him?”

Xue Yang threw Nie Mingjue a very unimpressed look, and gave a half-hearted bow.

“It's an honour to meet Nie zongzhu,” he said with some uncertainty, probably wishing he hadn't been so close while Nie Mingjue shouted at his brother like that.

“Huaisang, where did you find that child?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“It’s a long story,” his brother said.

Nie Mingjue nodded, and waited for the story in question to be told. Nie Huaisang just smiled at him.

“Are you going to tell me how you found him?” Nie Mingjue insisted when nothing more came.

“No. It’s a long story, but it’s not very interesting. He’s here now, though, so that can’t be helped.”

Hearing this, Nie Mingjue turned his attention to Xue Yang, as if hoping he might get an explanation there. The young boy just gave him a wicked smile.

“He said I’d get candies if I came,” Xue Yang said. “Am I gonna get them now or what?”

Nie Mingju’s eyes snapped back to his brother.

“Huaisang, did you steal a child by offering him treats? You realise how bad that looks?”

“It’s not stealing when it’s a person,” Nie Huaisang protested, nervously twisting his fingers for a moment before hiding his hands behind his back. “And I think children count as people, not things. Right?”

“Fine. Did you kidnap a child?”

A little embarrassed, Nie Huaisang hunched his shoulder and looked down at his feet without answering. A mistake, it turned out, because Xue Yang took that as his cue to explain things.

“It’s okay, I don’t have a family anyway,” Xue Yang announced. “He asked before taking me with him, to make sure I’m an orphan. And your brother’s nice. He took me to all those nice inns along the way, and every time he made sure I had food and a bath. He said the baths were very important.”

Nie Mingjue glared at his brother who winced because that could indeed be misunderstood. Which was exactly why Xue Yang had said it like that, he suspected. But really, Xue Yang had been in a pretty bad state when Nie Huaisang had picked him up. His hair was nearly stiff with dirty, he’d recently bled all over his clothes, and he had lice, and...

“Fine, I guess I’ll have to tell the story,” Nie Huaisang grumbled. He had already come up with a sanitised version of events that he could actually share with his brother, but it still annoyed him to not be trusted more. “So, I wanted to visit Kuizhou, you see? Everyone says the landscapes around it are so gorgeous, and so melancholic, and they are by the way. I want to go back to paint and write and…”

“Focus, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue ordered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, right. So, I went there,” Nie Huaisang said, playing with the hem of his sleeve. “And I was visiting and stuff, and then I see a grown man punching and kicking a kid! Just because the kid had grabbed a few things from him!”

“Yeah, it was just his purse, and there wasn’t even that much money in it,” Xue Yang helpfully provided. “Well, and a few buns from his stall, and those apples from the stall next to his, and…”

“Shut it,” Nie Huaisang hissed, before returning his attention to his brother, a bright smile on his face. “So, you always say we have to defend the weak, and nobody’s weaker than a kid, so I went to check what was going on, right? And the man told me that kid is a terrible thief that’s plaguing their town, and he’s going to beat him up until all his bones are broken and he can never bother anyone else. But it’s just a kid!”

“Yeah, I’m just a kid!”

“Shut it! Anyway, I rescued the kid, because he really was in a bad state. And then I figured, well, how can someone that’s just a kid be such a good thief, right? So I checked and he’s got good dispositions for cultivation!”

It had been a lucky realisation, because he hadn’t known for sure that Xue Yang even was meant to become a cultivator, nor a talented one for that matter. In fact, the whole thing had been unbelievably lucky. Sure Nie Huaisang had spent three whole days searching everywhere for Xue Yang, but he’d been about ready to give up when he’d finally found him in roughly the exact way he'd described.

“The local sect are a bunch of pricks who didn’t want to take him in when I asked,” Nie Huaisang explained, as if he could ever have left Xue Yang into the care of strangers who might have failed to stop him from becoming evil. “So I brought him home. He’s going to be a great disciple!”

Having listened to that story with mounting annoyance, Nie Mingjue glared at his brother.

“Huaisang, that’s…”

“You always say people deserve a chance no matter their background!”

“Oh so you do listen when I talk sometimes?”

“He’s an orphan, and he’s talented, and someone has to do something, and we can’t send him back or else he might continue stealing maybe!”

“I’ll definitely continue stealing if you send me back,” Xue Yang promised with a smirk.

Nie Huaisang glared at him. Evil or not, Xue Yang knew how to be annoying.

He also knew how to be charming, though. He’d been absolutely delightful with a bunch of people they’d met on the way to Qinghe whenever he’d thought he could get something out of it. And it had worked, too. Xue Yang had obtained a lot of sweets from a lot of people, as well as some money here and there. And that was without mentioning the stuff he’d just outright stolen, sometimes from the very people generously sharing something with him. He was a little pest, all right.

But he was smart too, smart enough to understand what an incredible opportunity he’d been given. It would have been easy for Xue Yang to run away into the night, taking with him all of Nie Huaisang’s money. He was a skilled enough thief to manage it, especially once he’d realised that Nie Huaisang wasn’t a skilled enough cultivator to pursue him. But he hadn’t, because he’d been promised a chance of becoming a cultivator if Nie Huaisang could just convince his brother.

Of course, that was a pretty big 'if'.

A year earlier, Nie Huaisang would have been certain that he could convince his brother of anything. He’d never had any reason to doubt that, not until his future self had come into his life uninvited and whispered poison to him about Nie Mingjue having a bad opinion of him. And maybe he was right, that old prick. Nie Huaisang had messed up so badly in the Cloud Recesses, failing his classes in a way most people never did. He’d shamed his sect, his clan, his brother, and now he had the galls of asking for a huge favour, as if he had any right to…

“How old are you?” Nie Mingjue asked Xue Yang, who shrugged.

“Dunno. I think I’m older than nine, maybe, ‘cause I remember that bad drought we had one year. But old Cheng says I’m probably less than twelve, ‘cause I don’t have all my teeth yet.”

To prove his point, Xue Yang clenched his jaw and bared his teeth. He was indeed missing one canine on the left, while the right one was just starting to regrow. It made for a very odd smile, and yet Xue Yang knew how to use that to look cute sometimes.

Cuteness wouldn’t work on Nie Mingjue though. Years of dealing with Nie Huaisang had made him nearly immune to it.

"What did my idiot brother tell you to convince you to come all the way here from Kuizhou?" 

"He said I'd learn to be a cultivator, and people wouldn't beat me up ever again for stealing," Xue Yang recited. "And he said I'd have to learn to be good and stuff, because it's a second chance for an honest life, and I figured, well, it's better than the streets."

Nie Mingjue nodded, though he still looked severe enough that Nie Huaisang wasn’t sure yet of his victory. 

"We have a certain way of doing things in my sect, and dishonesty isn't allowed. And I'll need to check if you can be taught at all. Come closer and give me your hand." 

Xue Yang, impossibly cocky a moment before, suddenly hesitated and glanced at both Nie brothers before hiding his hands behind his back. 

"Which hand ?" 

"Either one, it makes no difference." 

"It might a bit," Xue Yang grumbled before reluctantly raising both hands. 

Nie Mingjue frowned when he noticed that one finger was missing, but Nie Huaisang took it to be an encouraging frown and finally relaxed. It expressed concern rather than anger, and that had to be a step in the right direction. 

"That looks old," Nie Mingjue noted, grabbing Xue Yang's left hand to inspect it. "Hm. That's not neat enough to have been cut off. What happened to you?" 

"Someone's cart ran over my hand on purpose," Xue Yang muttered, trying in vain to pull his hand free. "I was little. It's fine now, I swear!"

It was far from fine, actually. Xue Yang himself might not have realised it since he was used to it, but Nie Huaisang had noticed that the young boy favoured his right hand a lot more than was normal, even for a right-handed person. In another sect, that might have been a problem. But Qinghe Nie was more martial than most others, a little more reckless too, and they had their share of cultivators who'd had nasty accidents. 

A missing finger in a stiff hand wasn't so bad compared to some people. 

"We'll have to get you a light sabre," Nie Mingjue said, mostly to himself after a quick check of the boy’s meridians. "Something you can use one-handed, like Huaisang. And I'll ask our doctor to have a look at it. It looks painful." 

"No, it's fine, I don't feel pain anymore," Xue Yang proudly announced as he pulled his hand free. "Trained myself out of it, mostly."

"You are definitely going to see Zhilan," Nie Mingjue replied, frowning harder. "Huaisang’s right, you do have potential, so we'll train you.” He turned toward their audience of disciples, and gestured for one man to walk closer. “Zonghui! Come and give that kid a tour, and a meal. When he's eaten, take him to see Zhilan, and have a bed prepared for him."

“I’m in?” Xue Yang asked, so startled that for once, he really did look his age.

He glanced at Nie Huaisang who grinned at him and nodded, then turned his eyes back to Nie Mingjue who nodded as well.

“You’re in. Go with Nie Zonghui, he’ll explain everything you need to know about being part of this sect.”

With surprising obedience that had to be a side effect of surprise, Xue Yang trotted away with Nie Mingjue’s first disciple. Nie Huaisang tried to follow, equal parts curious and worried about what might happen next if he lost sight of Xue Yang. He hadn’t taken two steps before Nie Mingjue grabbed him by the collar to stop him.

“And where are you going?”

Nie Huaisang pointed toward Xue Yang. His brother gave him a pointed look, and started dragging him in another direction, leaving him no choice but to follow or be strangled.

“I’m tired,” Nie Huaisang complained. Then, noticing that they appeared to be going toward the training grounds, he struggled against his brother’s grasp. “Wait, da-ge, I’m really tired, I mean it! We’ve had to walk so long, you know! We’ve only been able to hitch a ride on carts for some of the way, so I can’t feel my legs anymore for how much walking I’ve done lately.”

“If you’d come home directly from the Cloud Recesses, you’d have ridden in a carriage,” Nie Mingjue retorted without an ounce of pity. “Now let’s see if you’ve made any progress with your sabre, aside from using it to run away. We’re going to spar together.”

“I can’t, I’m so tired!” Nie Huaisang whined. “I’m going to die if I have to move! And you’re so much stronger than me, there’s no point in training together, the difference is too great! Da-ge, have some mercy, let me eat something first! Let me rest! And I need to change clothes too, and I really should check how my birds are, and…”

“Shut up you brat! This is your punishment for getting me so worried!” Nie Mingjue snapped, pushing his brother onto the softer soil of the training ground. “Do your warm-ups!”

“But I’m starving, da-ge!”

“That’s your own fault for running away!” Nie Mingjue replied, showing yet again he was the most cruel person in the entire world.

And yet as soon as Nie Huaisang started stretching in preparation for a friendly fight, Nie Mingjue asked a disciple to go ask the kitchens if they might send some fresh buns and a little tea that way. Aggravated as he was that his brother only cared about checking his cultivation and martial art progress, Nie Huaisang couldn’t help but smile.

After everything his older self had said about Nie Mingjue really despising him, he’d been worried that his brother would indeed be furious at him for everything he’d done, from failing his classes to forcing him to take in a miscreant. But no matter how shouty and frowny he currently was, it was clear to anyone who knew him, as his brother did, that Nie Mingjue was worried-angry rather than angry-angry.

Nie Huaisang had gambled and won, thus proving to himself that he definitely knew his brother better than his older self did.

[not-a-big-slay]

Until it doesn't hurt

kaz brekker x fem!reader

summary: betrayal leaves some wounds behind, but even more questions when you can’t figured out from whom it really came from.

warnings: ehh none

A/N: hello beautiful people! another 2 weeks, another chapter. this one is shorter than the previous one, but it's not really short (well, about 1600 words, more or less). ik Y/N's past is a bit confusing now, but i promise that it will make more sense as the story goes further. just be patient :) you can also find the story on my wattpad where i even created a bookcover so check that out fs (my wattpad here). hope you'll enjoy it! :)

part: 7/?

previous part: part 6

next part: part 8

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taglist (if you wanna be tagged in future chapters say so in the comms) :

@chickencouncilrep

"Listen to me.."

She talked slow and moved forward like it as well, like he was some endangered animal she didn't want to scare. He wanted nothing more than to listen, but she no longer deserved it. "Get out of here before I dismember you." he said and walked back behind his desk, as if it was the farthest place away from her. He couldn't bare another moment in her presence. The girl didn't seem to listen and continued in convincing him, moving closer with every word. Kaz thought about calling bouncers to throw her out, but the Club was probably busy and he didn't want to arouse suspicion among people. He will have to deal with this devil alone. "Please, just hear me out.". That was what made him bring his legs to life and made his way to the door. If she won't leave, he sure as hell will.

Kaz walked through the door and began moving towards the main area in the Slat. As his worst fears predicted, she followed him,being his shadow of every step. "I have no desire in hearing your excuses." he spoke, not once looking back at her. He heard her irritated groan when he saw the stairs, eager to step on them. "You're fucking unbelieveable. I have to speak to someone with a brain...Where's Jordie?" she whispered the words, but he wished she would have actually care if he could hear them. He froze once again because of her. Well, this is getting annoying.

Kaz felt her eyes on him, trying to understand his sudden stop. She understood, he knew she did, but she still had to pour more salt into this old wound. "Tell me, Kaz..." she was no longer begging him to listen, but rather begged for an answer. The concern in her voice made him almost believe Jordie meant something to her, like every feeling she had for them wasn't as fake as Rollins' charade. Waters rose as he thought about his brother ruffling her hair everytime they visited and his smirk when Kaz talked of the girl. He scoffed and began his journey down the stairs, the liar following. They made their way down, the silence thrown away by the girl's constant questions and talking. If Kaz had one godgiven wish that could be used only once in his life to grant his deepest desire, he would kill her with it.

"...What happened!" she demanded, clearly annoyed with his ignorance. His anger finally took a hold of him, after fighting it for long, and he snapped at her: "You would've known if you were there! You would know everything if all you did wasn't pretend. You act as if you actually cared about us, as if we meant something to you, but that's a lie, another play. Tell me, does it feel good to betray someone, to destroy their happiness and mind, to rip their heart out? Do you enjoy doing it so much, that you came back to take away what's left? To take away the bits holding me back from becoming a monster? Do you wish to kill me once again?". The girl took a step back, looking in his eyes.

"Because there's no need, you've done it succesfully the first time, Saskia."

Kaz heard her gasp. Her gaze interested in the floor, she stood there, silent. He spilled his heart out, his emotions out in the open for the girl to read, but for the first time, he didn't care. She deserved to be hurt, to know her true self in Kaz's point of view. She was nothing but a beautiful deception in his past. He looked at her wrist. They were bare. "I'll never take it off". He could laugh. Another lie, another dagger in his heart. Sometimes, it was hard to keep count.

When she raised her eyes to his again, they weren't sad, but full of anger and coldness. His eyebrows moved closer to each other as slight confusion visited him. She shook her head as she said: "That's not my name. My name is Y/N and you would've known that if you'd listen.". Kaz didn't move an inch when she walked past him, only realizing she left by the sound of the door. He sighed in relieve, ignoring the other emotion that wanted to chase after her. He looked around, making sure no one was present and locked his feeling in a familiar cell, changing the locks to more durable ones.

The name burnt itself into his thoughts, always there. He knew that it won't dissapear anytime soon and forcing it will only make it worse, so once in his room, he said it quietly to the dark accompanying him and then repeated it in his mind until he fell asleep.

Y/N

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

As much as she tried to stay in the shadows, Y/N still bumped into a lot of people on her way to her hideout. It was an abandoned building on the outskirts of the Barrel. It used to belong to one slaver that bought her, but his wife ended up poisoning him and gave her back to Deln. She remembered their deal when she passed the channel. He gave her 10 days at most to complete the job. She was more than sure she could complete it in 2, but now, a rest didn't sound bad. She could lay off for 4 days and still have 3 days to complete her job and getting her freedom.

While her eyes saw her temporary home, her mind saw Kaz's angry eyes and her ears heard his hurtful words. You would've known if you were there. She was there, but he wasn't. She listened to him, she laughed with him, she remembered everything he revealed about himself. She warned him about Rollins, but he was the one that never listened, never cared, he forgot everything about her. Though she lied about her name, she never lied about her interests, she never lied abot her emotions and feelings, what she felt to Kaz and what they meant to her, she never faked a smile or her love.

When Rollins got what he wanted, a freedom wasn't what Y/N and her mother got. They were took back to Deln, back to the dirty,cold warehouse with nowhere to sleep. Y/N hated everything about their job for Rollins, but the bed, the warmth and the food could hardly be disliked. She screamed, kicked and punched when she realized where is she being taken again. Rollins' people only grabbed her tighter and dragged her back to her nightmares. After she was thrown on the ground before Deln, she never saw her mother again. Y/N was not easy to tame and she never gave up on any tiny chance to see her. The question on her mind kept her going, she needed to know the truth: Her mother looked sad when Rollins broke his word and dissapeared, but it wasn't the same sadness Y/N had, it wasn't the realization their freedom was postponed. It was the sadness she had when she realized Kaz wouldn't visit her anymore, when she realized what she did to him. It was a heartbreak. Y/N's mom was possibly in love with Pekka Rollins and Y/N hated every sign that would made this thought into a fact.

She closed the door behind her and slid to the floor. Her knees pressed on the chest and held her while she silently cried. She killed Kaz and Jordie, there was no doubt in that and she couldn't fix it. Kaz hated being in the same space as her and she couldn't blame him. She couldn't do anything but suffer. Her right hand squeezed her left wrist, trying to find a smooth string for comfort, but when it failed to do so, panic formed around her sadness. Y/N quickly looked at her hands, only confirming her panic's reason. She lost it. Her promise she gave to the boy broke in a second and with that, a piece of her heart died.

She should've stayed in the mansion.

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

Pekka sat silently in his office, only hearing muffled voices in the hallway. When he returned here he found nothing out of ordinary, until he saw it. A black cloth string that was very familiar to him, seated on his table. Under different circumstances he would pay no attention to it, but the string had tied ends, looking more like a bracelet. And he knew who wore a piece of fabric as a bracelet.

"What is this?" he asked the girl, walking past him, pointing at her wrist. Y/N turned around to face him and let her confused eyes follow the trace of his gaze. She brought her hand up and said: "This?". Pekka nodded, awaiting the answer. The boys left a while ago, happy that they will have big money soon. Rollins snatched the hope out of another victims and these would be the last.

"Oh, it's a gift I got.." she said, playing with the bracelet. She was a cute kid, he almost felt bad about dissapearing without a trace and breaking his word, but the smell of money warmed him and his lies. "From that boy?" he stated and she nodded, walking away. She made the boy fell in love, thereby selling their act further. Pekka was proud of her. He watched for a second before gently grabbing her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. Y/N turned around and he knelt down to her height. He squeezed her shoulder and gave her a smile: "You'll grow up to be something amazing with these skills, Y/N. People will be scared of ya one day. I'm sure of that.". The girl only stared at him and then gave him a smile, or rather lips pressed into a thin line, but he accepted it. He got up and let the girl go. After all, this is the last time they will ever see him.

He couldn't find himself to do anything than sitting in a chair and intesively stare at it. He heard about their escape to Novyi Zem, he wanted to be informed about them in case they woud like to take revenge. He never believed that girl, he knew she hated him. Now, he had to congratulate himself. Pekka didn't know why is she back, but had the feeling he played a main role in her reasons. He finally moved and took the bracelet in his hand, running his fingertips up and down, feeling the smooth material. She was here and, judging by the state of the office being the same as he left it, she wasn't here to rob him.

He smiled as he shoved the string into his breast pocket.

Maybe it's time for a family reunion.

[inactive17645]

Safe & Sound [1]

Chapter One: Pilot

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader & Wells Jaha x Reader

Warnings: Swearing & Mild Violence

Word Count: 3637

Author’s Note: Welcome to the first chapter of my very first series here on tumblr! I hope you guys come enjoy the ride and stay until the end. I know there are a few Bellamy x Reader fanfic series on here now, but I really wanted to put my own spin on a The 100 rewrite. Also, please let me know if you want to be tagged in any future parts by either PMing me or through my ‘Ask Me Anything’ tab on my profile!

Season Masterlist

Series Masterlist

      It was supposed to be like any other day. I’d wake up, the guard would give me three small portions of food throughout the day, whilst rereading the various classics and Greek mythology books my father sent. Eventually, I’d fall back asleep with my mother’s dove pendant clutched in my hand as I gazed out the window, into the dark abyss scattered with diamonds. On every other day, you’d make sure to aside time to practice self-defence. Something that my father had guards teach me before I was locked up.

    Today was not one of those days. The chaos of yelling, screaming and grumbling outside the door ripped me from my trance. I shook my head and tried to engross myself again in the book I clutched, but the sound of the door flinging open broke it.

     It also didn’t help that this was the last day before I’d be eighteen. Before I’d be floated.

     “Prisoner 301, face the wall.” My breath hitched in my throat. No! I still had one more day! 

When you didn’t even move an inch towards a wall the guard stalked his way towards you, his presence towering over your sitting form. “Get up on your feet!”

     “No! I still have a day left you cunt!” You screeched.

     With a punch to the man’s groin, he collapsed to the ground and you scampered out to escape. Unfortunately, I’ve tried to escape my cell multiple times so it was no surprise when someone tackled me as soon as I left the room.

      “Get. Me. The. Fuck Off!” I yelled as punch after punch landed on the man’s back. The man grunted after each punch, but he never let me go until I was stood in front of the one man who turned me in a year ago. My own father; Marcus Kane.

     Although it was a relief to see him after so long, I couldn’t help but glare at the man. He was supposed to be there for you no matter what, yet he never visited. Too much of a coward to face you and sent books in his place. The kind of books you and your mom used to read together.

     “Dad?!” I hated him, but I still hugged him. I hated him, but I still loved my father.

     Your eyes glossed with tears that had every intention to escape.

 “I don’t want to die, not today!” I pleaded, refusing the tears to shower my cheeks. “I don’t want to be floated!”

     “You’re not being floated (y/n),” He told you. “You’re being sent down to earth.” A chill ran down my spine.

     “But I thought the earth was still uninhabitable?” Dad just shook his head as another guard hooked me over their shoulder and stalked away from my father’s now retreating figure.

     Typical. Just like when I was first chucked in the skybox. He couldn’t even muster a single goodbye. The punching of another guard ensued as he hauled me over to the dropship entrance.

     Suddenly, there was a prick in my arm and gradually I drew drowsier, and drowsier. My punches slowly weakened after each hit. The last thing I saw before I succumbed to darkness was the menacing smirk of one Commander Shumway, my eyes darkening in both anger and fear.

     In what felt like seconds, my eyes squinted open while adjusting to the poor lighting of the dropship. Screams and yells from others around me filled my ears. As my vision came into focus, I looked around to see the horror morphed on many of the teens’ faces. In the seat five seats down from me, I recognised a familiar head of blonde that I knew oh so well.

     “Clarke!” I called. The blonde whipped her head my way and relief settled on both our faces. “Thank the gods you’re here! If I could I’d smother you in a hug right now I would!”

     The two of us bursted out laughing knowing I’d actually smother her. Before I had the chance to ask her something else, Chancellor Jaha’s voice filled the room.

     “Prisoners of the Ark, hear me now. You’ve been given a second chance. And as your chancellor, it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but a chance for all of us. Indeed, for mankind itself. We have no idea what is waiting for you down there. If the odds of survival were better, we would’ve sent others. Frankly, we’re sending you because your crimes have made you expendable.”

     Expendable? What the hell?! All I did was try to spread the word that the life-support system for the Ark was failing, after overhearing a heated discussion between Jaha, my father and others in the Council.

     “Everyone here being expendable is bullshit and you know it!” My voice echoed throughout the dropship, catching the attention of everyone in the room. I gulped at the stares thrown my way, but it was the stare of the single guard in the room that caught my eye.

     No guards were supposed to be inside. So the only reason why he’d be here would be because he was escaping something… or to protect someone. Perhaps a certain younger sister that wasn’t supposed to be born?

     It had to be Bellamy Blake, the older brother of floor girl, Octavia Blake. His gaze seemed to linger on me slightly longer than the other delinquents around. I wasn’t sure if it was due to pure curiosity or how everyone knew I was Marcus Kane’s daughter. I tore my gaze away from his blank stare and stared down at the metal ground.

     As Jaha’s speech became muffled, I gaped at the floor and the room began to groan and shake. A familiar dark-skinned young man was suddenly talking to Clarke.

     “Wells?” I questioned. His brown orbs tore away from Clarke, his gaze landing on me.

     “(Y/N)! Thank god!” He floated over to me, pulled me up to my feet and smothered me in a hug. A giggle vibrated through my chest. “What’s so funny?”

     “I told Clarke I’d smother her in a hug, yet you’ve gone and did just that to me,” I chuckled. Wells only chuckled as I hugged him back.

     “This is nice —” We both started but ended in a fit of giggles. Two other delinquents then join Wells and I in standing up. I could hear Clarke softly calling my name to sit back down along with the others standing, but I just ignored it. 

     Strangely, Wells still held on to me and sat in the seat I was in just before, plopping me onto his lap and snuggling into me more. He and I did have a weirdly affectionate friendship before both our arrests, but even this was pushing the line between friendship and a romantic relationship. 

     The dropship lurched, sending three delinquents flying who had left their seats despite Clarke’s protests. I clunged to Wells’ neck as his grip on my waist tightened, closing my eyes tight. Something sickening yet sweet filled my nose. Smoke. Sparks went off right and left and with one final violent jolt, the dropship came to a stop.

     We were on the ground!

     The dropship powers down almost instantaneously and echoes of seatbelts unbuckling filled the room. Heat rose to my cheeks as I slowly clambered off Wells’ lap. His cheeks were crimson red as were probably my own. I helped him to his feet and took one of my hands in his, leading him down to the doors, waiting for them to be to opened as a crowd formed in front.

     A dark-haired girl stormed through yelling, “Bellamy!” The guy in the uniform I saw before spun around and stared at the girl in shock. So I was right! He was Bellamy Blake and that girl was definitely Octavia, his sister.

     “My God, look how big you are!” The two smiled at each other before the girl - Octavia - jumped forward and pulled Bellamy into a tight hug.

     “Where’s your wristband?” Clarke asked Bellamy as she sided next to Wells and I.

     “Do you mind?” Octavia cut Clarke off with an annoyed look. “I haven’t seen my brother in a year.”

     “Seriously Clarke?” I jumped in, everyone’s eyes turning to me as I let go of Wells’ hand. “We’ve reached the ground and the first thing you do is ask where the guy’s wristband is?” Clarke was surprised by my outburst, but Octavia and Bellamy looked at me thankful that I stood up for them.

     “Surely you’d like to be known as someone else. Perhaps the first person on the ground in a hundred years?” Octavia grinned in appreciation whilst Bellamy nodded my way.

     I returned the smile as Bellamy pulled on a nearby lever, opening the door to the outside. As a haze of smoke breaks, a bright light shone into the ship, momentarily blinding me but the lush colours of green, blue and brown eventually took its place.

     Finally, I’d be able to put my Earth Skills to use!

     Octavia slowly made her way down the ramp before she stepped onto the ground. She turned back towards the ship, a massive grin etched on her olive face.

     “We’re back bitches!” She threw her arms up as she yelled.

     A parade of teens stormed off the ship in a hurry, yelling and screaming that we’re back. A laugh resonated in my chest as a familiar presence took my hand in theirs.

     “Together?” Wells asked. With a soft sigh, I nodded, but not before I leapt onto his back. He shook his head as he wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck.

     “Ride on my noble steed!”

     A gush of air swept through my (Y/H/C) locks as Wells sprinted out the door, but within seconds of Wells being on the ground, we both tumbled onto the grass. One glance at each other was enough to send us into a fit of laughter.

     “I missed you, Wells —”

     “I missed you, (Y/N) —” A chuckle from above broke two of us from our trance.

     “It hasn’t even been a day and you two are back to finishing each other’s sentences.” Clarke towered over Wells and I, teasingly shaking her head at us.

     “Are you really surprised at this point, Clarke?” I retorted as I jumped to my feet, smothering the blonde in a tight hug.

     “Nope!” With a quick kiss to Wells’ cheek, I sauntered off in hopes of recognising someone else. Within two minutes I had lost the motivation so I found myself a sturdy and long enough stick I could use to fashion a bow with. Someone’s shoelace would probably work for the string.

     I sat close to the dropship, carving my initials into one end of the stick with a shard of metal that had broken off the ship, when someone sat next to me.

     “Hey, you’re Marcus Kane’s daughter right?” I turned to see Octavia and nodded expectantly.

      “That I am..” I replied slightly bitter. “But you can call me (Y/N).” I held my hand out for her to shake, but she hugged me instead. To say I was surprised would be an understatement.

     “Why aren’t you angry with me? My father was one of the people that got you put in the skybox in the first place.” I asked as she pulled away.

      “Because it wasn’t you who did it. It was your dad.” Well, she wasn’t wrong about that. A mischievous look appeared on her face. “Want to get into some trouble?”

      I mirrored her expression. “Oh hell yes!” We both giggled before I grabbed her hand and lead her to the dropship. We pulled up behind Clarke and Finn, who were recruiting two other guys to head over to Mount Weather. “Can we go now?”

     “Sounds like a party, make it six,” Octavia said as she gestured between the two of us. Clarke doesn’t protest, but a certain oldest Blake does. He grabbed Octavia’s shoulder causing her to let go of my hand.

     “Hey, what the hell are you doing?” Bellamy scolded Octavia.

     “Going for a walk,” she retorted as she pulled out of his grip. “Are you coming (Y/N)?”

     I glanced from the group to Bellamy a few times, debating whether to follow along to Mount Weather or to help Bellamy around the dropship. Although I’d probably be more help with the group of five, something in my gut told me I’d be just as helpful here.

     “I’ll stay here and help Wells and Bellamy with keeping order. As I’m sure they’ll need my help” I sauntered back over to the ship, ignoring Clarke and Octavia calling my name and a gaping Bellamy.

     Throughout the day I helped Wells with pretty much everything, but as soon as the sun was near the horizon I decided to stop for the day. I wasn’t blind to Murphy trying to get people to take off their wristbands. Such an action was most likely something Bellamy put him up to as he was the only one that could benefit from it. The only question was why.

     A shadow casted to the ground by the fire told me there was someone behind me.

     “If you even think you can get the upper hand on me to get off my wristband, think again Blake.” It wasn’t a long shot if it was him, and my suspicions were proven right when the man himself sat down next to me.

     “How did you —”

     “Your shadow gave it away you idiot and only you or Murphy would dare approach me from behind. Not that Murphy has though.” He just nodded as I finally turned to him.

     Although I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, Bellamy was handsome. His slightly tousled black hair, brown eyes and olive skin put him under the tall, dark and mysterious category. I tore my gaze away before it became borderline staring.

     “Was there anything else you wanted to talk about, Blake?” I questioned. He shifted in his spot slightly.

     “Thank you for earlier, with Octavia,” He admitted. “Although I’m certainly not a fan of your father, thank you.” Something in my gut told me he really did mean what he said.

     “I’m not heartless, Blake” I retorted. “Compared to Chancellor Jaha and everyone else on the council, I’m a puppy.” We shared a look and snorted, trying to stifle our own laughs.

     “Why a puppy?” He asked.

     “Because although I look innocent, anything can still set me off and my bite is much worse than my bark.” I stood to my feet, dusting off any dirt and sauntered back over to the dropship. 

     A couple of hours later the world was enveloped in darkness, our only source of light being from the fire. Everything in me wanted to ignore the world around me. However, the muffled sound of arguing grew louder and louder as I left my daze.

     “My father didn’t write the laws,” Wells’ voice admitted. My gaze looked up and landed on the arguing figures of Wells and Bellamy.

     “No. He enforced him, but not any more, not here,” Blake shrugged. “Here there are no laws. Here, we do whatever the hell we want, whenever the hell we want. Now, you don’t have to like it Wells. You can even try to stop it, change it, kill me. You know why? Whatever the hell we want.”

     I stood up, opening my mouth with every intention to object — at least get Wells and Bellamy to compromise on the situation — but Bellamy seemed to notice this and sharply shook his head. My eyes narrowed at him and scowled. He was taken aback by my scowl and I had no idea why.

     “Whatever the hell we want!” Murphy yelled out to the crowd. The crowd of teenager, minus Wells and I, followed in suit and started chanting the only rule established. A rule that would do more harm than good. 

     “Am I the only one who thinks this is gonna result in chaos?” I asked Wells.

     “You’re not the only one.”

     He wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me close and I rested my head on his shoulder. Something that didn’t go amiss by the eldest Blake. Bellamy’s face was unreadable and I didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

     A low rumble echoed from above before a downpour of rain decided to settle. Our first thunderstorm. A soft sigh left my chest as a smile formed on my face. The rain felt so good and I just didn’t care about getting soaked.

     I allowed myself to enjoy the rain a little while longer, looking around at the other delinquents with a smile. My smile fades almost instantly when my eyes meet Bellamy’s dark chocolate orbs. I scowled once more at him before scavenging around for something to collect water in. He needed to know I wasn’t onboard with his so called plan.

     The handrests of the seats inside the dropship ended up being perfect. I struggled a little getting some off, but I managed. With my small collection of water troughs, I sat them outside sitting in front of me as they collected the rain water. 

     The thunderstorm didn’t last for very long, but I’m left with a few troughs filled with fresh water. I drunk some water until my thrist was satisfied and I made sure Wells got some as well. Any water-filled troughs still completely full I snuck into the dropship to hide. 

     Wells then took my hand and lead me to a tree across the clearing and we helped each other up. We sat on a thick enough branch that could hold both our weights, sitting there in silence comfortably for a couple minutes, my head resting on his shoulder. Wells was the one to break the underlying tension in the air.

     “I think we need to address the elephant in the room…” Wells trailed off. He took my hands in his and turned the both of us around, our legs dangling on either side of the branch. I could only sigh and nod.

     “I know we’ve been best friends since we were toddlers and have always been affectionate with each other, but the cuddle in the dropship got me thinking.” Our fingers threaded through each other as he spoke. “I… I want us to be be more friends.”

     My head perked up at his words. Not going to lie, I did develop a crush on Wells two years before I was chucked in the skybox. However, I never acted on it as we had been best friends for years. We grew up together and at one point I thought he had a crush on Clarke.

     “But what about Clarke?” I mumbled as he took my cheeks in his hands.

     “It’s always been you.”

     His lips melted onto my own. Although his lips were slightly chapped from dehydration they were still incredibly soft. It felt as if a fire had started in my heart and I didn’t want it to stop. We eventually had to part for air, but he quickly slammed his lips back on mine, this time his tongue slipping into my mouth. We fought for dominance over each other, but Wells ultimately won. Our lips parted once more and we panted as we caught our breath.

     Wells rested his head on my own and we both sighed.

     “I’d hug you, but I’m worried we’d fall out of the tree.” Wells chuckled and pecked my lips. “I’ll find another tree nearby to sleep, we wouldn’t want people getting the wrong idea.”

     I pecked his lips before jumping down from the tree. Almost everyone was asleep, so I walked quietly as possible to the closest tree nearby. I laid down, resting my head and back against the tree. Just as I was about to succumb to sleep a familiar presence sat down next to me.

     “To what do I owe the displeasure of having your presence, Blake.” Bellamy snorted at what I said.

     “I’m flattered you knew it was me,” he smirked.

     “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” I clapped back. I finally turned to his annoyingly handsome face. Gods I wanted to kiss that smirk off his face — wait what?! I kissed Wells only minutes ago and I was already thinking about kissing someone else?

     “So…” he trailed off. “You and Jaha. When did that happen?” I gaped at the thought of how to respond. 

     “We both had crushes on each other, prior to us both being thrown in the skybox,” I admitted. “Neither of us acted on it before the Ground.” He nodded, but something in his eyes told me he was disappointed about something.

     Mentioning being thrown into the skybox reminded me why I was put in there in the first place. Me trying to expose to the rest of the Ark that life-support was failing, my father being the one to chuck me inside and throw away the key. It was a cowardly move and my father knew it. He never even came to see me the utter bastard.

     “I need help taking off my wristband.” Bellamy looked at me with disbelief. “I want to take it off, but I don’t want to hurt myself.”

     He stared at me right in my eyes, probably to see with there was any hesitation in them. However, when he saw none he helped with the wristband, slipping it off with ease.

     “Thank you.” He wasn’t really supposed to hear my thanks, but he did, just giving me a small smile before he walked off in the other direction.

     My eyes glossed with water, the teardrops threatening to escape but only a single tear rolled down my cheek.

     I’m sorry, Dad.

Taglist:

@hftff-lol​ 

[robininthelabyrinth]

Targets - ao3

- Chapter 5 -

Lan Xichen had had an extremely weird day.

The beginning of the week had gone much as it always did – the daily routine of lessons and chores, classes and cultivation – and he had been helping his uncle with sect business, just basic copying or taking down dictation since he wasn’t old enough to do more than that. He’d thought the rest of the week would go just the same way, but then a messenger had arrived and his uncle had asked him to leave. It wasn’t that unusual, there was plenty of sect business his uncle didn’t care for him to know about yet, Lan Xichen being not quite yet fifteen, so he hadn’t thought much of it.

What was unusual was his uncle’s sudden tension afterwards, and the second messenger that arrived not long after, and his uncle’s abruptly announcement that Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji would be going to visit the Unclean Realm.

Lan Xichen had initially welcomed the news – he’d become friends with Nie Mingjue years before when the other boy had spent some time at the Cloud Recesses, and he’d always hoped to go pay a long visit in return, although that hope had been dashed when Nie Mingjue had been forced to become sect leader far too soon and it suddenly became inappropriate for him to spend so much time with a junior like Lan Xichen. But when his uncle told him to go pack and he realized that his uncle planned to send him right away…that was when he started to become alarmed.

He asked his uncle what the matter was, but his uncle refused to say, and so Lan Xichen had no idea why they had hurried so quickly to the Unclean Realm. He’d been asked to fly on his sword, and when he started faltering, one of the attending disciples allowed him to jump onto theirs to ride the rest of the way – they only rested a few times, at the mid-way points, and that was already pushing the boundaries of what they could do, even though they were all strong cultivators.  After all, of the Great Sects, Gusu was the furthest away from Qinghe; it wasn’t an easy trip to make.

He thought that he’d ask Nie Mingjue to explain when he arrived, but Nie Mingjue wasn’t there. But the Unclean Realm’s protective shield was up, which he’d never seen, and they were searched and interrogated for a long while before being allowed inside. And even once they were, they were shown to certain courtyards and told not to leave.

“Brother?” Lan Wangji asked, and the mere fact that he’d broken his habitual silence to inquire that much told of his anxiety at everything that had happened.

“I’ll figure it out,” Lan Xichen promised him.

Only he really couldn’t figure out what to do next, and then Nie Mingjue returned with a positive gaggle of children, his face pale and almost visibly at the point of total qi exhaustion, and it hadn’t seemed like a good time to interrupt. Lan Wangji ended up getting swept up by the chattering children his age – the Yunmeng Jiang heir, Jiang Cheng, as well as the Yunmeng Jiang ward, Wei Wuxian, plus Nie Huaisang – and not long thereafter they were joined by Jin Zixuan, who poor Lan Wangji had ended up clinging to as the only other person not talking faster than the flapping of a hummingbird’s wings.

Poor Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen thought; it wasn’t his fault that Wei Wuxian had fixated on him, seemingly thinking that teasing and bullying were the only way to make friends – they’d tussled three times so far, and Lan Wangji was constantly turning bright red with either fury or elation or both.

For his own part, Lan Xichen had tried to make friends with the boy that was closer to his age – Meng Yao, apparently – but Meng Yao just stared at him wide-eyed and stuttered a lot and seemed very awkward, although he had explained some of what was happening: that the Wen sect had ordered the kidnapping of sect heirs, that his name had been on a list (he didn’t know why he himself had been included, especially as none of the other Jin sect bastards had been), that all the sects were preparing for war…

It had been a relief when Jiang Yanli stopped shepherding the smaller children and joined them, if only because Lan Xichen could stop feeling like he was tormenting poor Meng Yao. Who wasn’t even a cultivator, although he expressed an interest in becoming one – Nie Mingjue had apparently said that he could join the Nie sect if he wanted.

“You should,” Lan Xichen said enthusiastically. “It’s a good sect – a bit, uh, martially inclined, but very righteous, very upright. They’re good people. If you don’t think you’d enjoy cultivating the saber, maybe you might prefer the Lan sect – you said you played the guqin? We cultivate music.”

His face was certainly pretty enough to pass through Lan sect regulations, Lan Xichen thought, although of course there were other requirements.

“You would be a good fit in either,” Jiang Yanli said encouragingly. “My Jiang sect isn’t taking on new disciples right now without a recommendation, but if you start with the Nie sect and find it doesn’t suit, I’m sure you’d be welcome in any sect you chose.”

“Except Lanling Jin?” Meng Yao said, giving them both a look as they blushed and stuttered and averted their eyes. “Neither of you recommended that one.”

“Lanling Jin is a very strong sect, very powerful,” Jiang Yanli said delicately. “And, uh…Lan-gongzi?”

“I can’t,” Lan Xichen said. “There are rules in the Lan sect about talking behind people’s backs, especially maliciously.”

“Well, I certainly can’t say anything! He’s my future father-in-law!”

“That bad?” Meng Yao asked, though he didn’t look as surprised as Lan Xichen might’ve thought.

“My brother says Sect Leader Jin’s a useless whoremonger who doesn’t think of anything but wine, women, and corruption,” Nie Huaisang piped up. Lan Xichen hadn’t even noticed him walking over; he would have tried to change the subject of conversation if he had – he remembered very well what a little demon Nie Huaisang could be, always stirring up trouble. “That he’s got more bastards than fingers and toes, and that the women he gets with child are lucky if he remembers to pay them for it, assuming they weren’t forced to begin with. You’re better off with us, Meng-gege!”

Meng Yao looked at Lan Xichen and Jiang Yanli, who both shrugged because there really wasn’t much to be said there, and then over at Jin Zixuan, who had trailed along after Nie Huaisang along with the rest of their little gang.

“My father’s not useless,” he said, looking uncomfortable even as he kept shooting fascinated glances at Meng Yao – who was his brother, actually, now that Lan Xichen thought about it, putting two and two together. Jin Zixuan had probably never met one of the infamous Jin bastards before; none of them had. They’d only heard about them in rumors. “And he does think of – other things. Sect business. Sometimes. That part’s wrong.”

Jin Zixuan was a good boy, Lan Xichen reflected. Far too good to be the son of a snake-tongued politician like Jin Guangshan.

“You should probably just pick another sect, though,” Jin Zixuan said, shifting from one foot to the other. “My mom – she doesn’t like – listen, she’s said some really awful things about what she’d do if any of the bastards ever actually showed up, okay? And I’m pretty sure my father agrees with her. He promised he’d throw them down the tower steps.”

“There are a lot of steps in Jinlin Tower. It’d break someone’s bones! Or neck!” Jiang Cheng objected.

“I think that’s the point,” Wei Wuxian muttered. “Meng-gege, you won’t go, will you?”

“I won’t,” Meng Yao assured him. “My mother’s coming here, so I have to be here at least until she arrives. And I think we’re all going to be here for a while, at least until the war is over.”

“That’s definitely the case,” Nie Mingjue said from the door. He looked a little better – someone must have given him spiritual energy and possibly a stimulant, possibly multiple stimpulants – though he still seemed very tired. Lan Xichen abruptly saw the point of all of his uncle’s exhortations against over-doing things. “You’re all welcome to stay for as long as this takes. I’ve cleansed the Unclean Realm of spies, as best as I can; this place is as safe as can be while you’re being targeted.”

“What about you, Mingjue-xiong?” Lan Xichen asked, anxious, because he knew, as few others did, that Nie Mingjue wasn’t nearly as old as people thought he was. “Will you have to fight?”

Nie Mingjue didn’t respond, which was affirmation. It was a stupid question to ask; Nie Mingjue was a sect leader, of course he’d have to fight. Fight the man who murdered his father only a few years before.

“I want to help,” Lan Xichen said, and Nie Mingjue frowned.

“Xichen –”

“I want to help,” Lan Xichen insisted. “Even if it’s just cutting up cloth to make bandages, or passing along messages, or something like that – I want to help.”

“I want to help too!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “Da-ge, you have to let us help.”

“I –”

“They’re our sects, too,” Jin Zixuan said quietly, and Lan Xichen saw Jiang Yanli smile at him.

Lan Xichen felt a moment of satisfaction at how they were all uniting, all acting together – and then, abruptly, dissatisfaction. “Why does Wei-gongzi get to call you da-ge?” he asked, indignant. “I’ve known you for longer!”

“It was convenient!” Nie Mingjue protested. “You can call me that too, if you like!”

“Not if you like,” Nie Huaisang said. “Everyone has to call da-ge, da-ge. You’re in the Unclean Realm now, and I make the rules here, and those are the rules!”

There was a small group discussion, after which it was generally agreed that it would be far too awkward to live together for days and days – amended to weeks and weeks after seeing the expression on Nie Mingjue’s face – while maintaining appropriate formalities, so everyone was going to call each other -gege, -jiejie, and -xiong, as appropriate, and of course that Nie Mingjue, as the eldest of their generation, would be called da-ge.

“Wen Xu’s older than me, actually,” Nie Mingjue mumbled. “Wen Qing, too, I think –”

“They don’t count, they’re Wen,” Jiang Cheng said. “The Wen sect is evil.”

“Wasn’t Wen Qing their doctor?” Jiang Yanli asked. “She was at the last discussion conference, presenting on some of her medial research. She was nice, I thought…?”

“She’s Dafan Wen, not Qishan Wen,” Lan Xichen explained. “They’re only technically a branch family of the main Qishan Wen – they split off a few generations back, but there was an accident and their parents died, so I think her and her younger brother got adopted as wards by Sect Leader Wen.”

“How unfortunate for her,” Meng Yao murmured, and they all looked at him. “I mean, if he’s as bad as you all say he is…”

“Was it an accident?” Jin Zixuan asked, and everyone looked at him. “What? Everyone says that she’s the most talented member of the younger generation of Wen sect – well, they say that when Sect Leader Wen isn’t around, anyway. It seems really convenient that the cousin who could’ve outshone the main branch got brought in so that all the accolades could go to him.”

“And we all know that Wen Ruohan likes to kill parents,” Nie Huaisang mumbled, kicking at the floor.

A moment later, as if by unanimous unspoken agreement, they all turned to look at Nie Mingjue expectantly.

“…she’s a Wen!” he protested a few moments later when he realized what they were getting at. “Even if the circumstances of her parents' death might be – suspicious – it’s still her bloodline; they share the same ancestors, they’re the same clan! She's not going to be a target - well, by them, anyway - though I suppose by the rest of us - and - and I don’t know what exactly you’d want me to do about it, anyway!”

[walkerismychoice]

Queen of My Heart - Chapter 36

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake X MC, Liam X Olivia, Hana X OC Lydia

Rating: NSFW (I didn’t intend it but it just happened

Summary: Liam finally clears the air with Constantine, and we go to the Fire and Ice Ball at Lythikos, the final social season even before Liam chooses his future Queen.

A/N: Umm, I don’t even want to know how many years it’s been since I updated, but it is with the encouragement of you readers that I was compelled to finish.  My tag list is probably way outdated and I’m sure I’ve missed some poeple who’ve asked to be tagged along the way. Feel free to let me know either way if you want to be tagged or removed from the list.

Tag List: @khakie4 @dreadpirateemma @ritachacha @blackcoffee85 @choices-fanatic @boneandfur @butindeed @simplyaiden-blog @bobasheebaby @traeumerinsworld @theroyalweisme @umccall71 @lizeboredom @debramcg1106 @enmchoices @jadedpixiescribbles @withice @viktoriapetit @mfackenthal @drakesfiance @drakelover78 @speedyoperarascalparty @silviasutton1989 @krisnicjack @devineinterventions2 @choiceswreckedme @notoriouscs @blackcatkita @hamalu @akrenich @drakewalkerfantasy @jamielea81 @andy-loves-corgis @jlouise88 @jovialyouthmusic @sleepwalkingelite @i-miss-trr @dragonball-luver @gkittylove99 @lovingchoices14

Word Count: 2861

Queen of My Heart Chapter Index

“Hello, Father.” Liam greeted Constantine as he walked into the hospital room. He noted the King's color was back to normal and he seemed in good spirits.

"My son, I knew you'd come!" Constantine reached towards Liam with arms outstretched.

Liam just shook his head and held up a hand to stop him. "This is not that kind of visit. I'm here because I know... I know everything."

"What-" Constantine choked out before a coughing fit ensued.

Liam fought the instinctual urge to comfort his father. "Enough with the theatrics. I know about Madeleine...about you threatening the show if they didn't help her win...as if me choosing the woman I plan to spend my life with is some political game to be won."

 "How did you find out? I gave strict orders that my demands were confidential."

Liam scoffed. "Seriously? I just told you I found out you tried to have the producers manipulate me into marrying a woman I don't love, and that's all you had to say for yourself?"

"You have to understand," Constantine pleaded. "Madeleine is what's best for Cordonia, and what's best for Cordonia is what's best for you."

"Unbelievable!" Liam felt the anger rising in his chest like a simmering pot ready to boil over. "You may have told yourself that to feel better about choosing your commitments to Cordonia over happiness, love, family... Maybe you’ve lied to yourself for so long you’ve actually started to believe it, but it's one hundred percent bullshit. I know I'll be a more effective leader if I get to choose the woman I want by my side, and that woman is Olivia."

Constantine's jaw dropped and there was a long pause before he gained his composure to protest. "Absolutely not. You know her family's history. I'd rather have you on the same page as me, but I am still King-"

"Save your breath," Liam shut him down. "You should know that your perfect candidate Madeleine has displayed some behavior quite unbecoming of a future queen, and it is all on film. I know Cordonians are generally flexible with their views on monogamy, but I don't think Madeleine sleeping with the host of the show while she's trying to compete for my affection will look good in anyone's eyes. She has been eliminated from the show and is no longer in the running. That leaves only Riley aside from Olivia, and I know you know what's going on there."

Constantine's face fell momentarily in resignation, but then he perked back up again. "Well, then you can bring back someone else. Kiara is quite lovely and is fit to play the part."

"Enough!" Liam practically shouted much too loud for the thin hospital walls. "Not that I owe you an explanation, but Olivia is stronger, smarter, and more capable of ruling a country than anyone you could hope to pair with me. You seem to forget that I am the son who stuck by you and am now the rightful and only heir to the throne. Your reign is coming to an end, and you have no choice but to accept my decision."

Unexpectedly, Constantine's demeanor changed, a sly grin creeping across his face. "My boy, I've always been a bit worried you were too soft to be king. However, seeing you stand up for yourself today gives me hope. I still don't approve of your choice, but I will no longer stand in your way."

Liam shook his head and let out an incredulous laugh, reeling from Constantine’s sudden change of course. "Bastien will take you back to the palace. We can talk more when I know it's not just the medicine that's gotten to your head."

-----

“Well, this place certainly explains a lot about Olivia.” Riley mused aloud as she scanned the ballroom. Ornate floor to ceiling windows with deep alcoves were surrounded by walls with intricate, gilded accents leading up to a hand-painted ceiling measuring at least 3 stories high. The grandeur of the space was both intimidating and beautiful at the same time, much like its owner.

“Has she shown you all the toys in her armory yet? That too says a lot about Olivia," Drake chuckled at his own joke.

Riley laughed along. “No, but she does constantly remind me she keeps a dagger hidden under her skirt. Are you sure Liam knows what he’s in for?”

"Heh. Better him than me, that's for sure. Liam's warm and fuzzy exterior can make him seem like a pushover, but he can hold his own when it matters. Olivia needs someone who can roll with her mood swings but still call her on her bullshit when needed."

"You know, I admit I had a little trouble wrapping my brain around Liam choosing Olivia, but when you put it that way, it makes sense. Now I suppose I need to find Kat so I can figure out if I need to dance with Liam or something. Ugh, I cannot wait until all these balls are over.

Drake almost doubled over laughing. "Oh, Bennett, I hate to break it to you, but this shit never ends. Next will be the coronation, then some charity gala, Liam's wedding...the list goes on. Welcome to your life as a noble woman."

Riley stared ahead blankly as a giant wave of realization washed over her. It was all so much, so fast. She'd never had time to think past the next day to consider this was all ending soon, and then what? Did she stay with her new-found family and live this life that was still foreign to her in so many ways? What about her life in New York? Sure, she didn't have much going on at the moment, but she still had her aunt Susan and best friend Sarah along with some good friends at work like Daniel. Becoming a therapist was still one of her goals, at least it was until the day she left for Cordonia. Now everything was so unclear, and she could hardly breathe.

Drake must have noticed her face looking some kind of way because he placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her to an open doorway to a nearby balcony. "Why don't we get you some air before you go off and do your thing for the show?"

Once outside and around the corner of the wraparound balcony, Drake pulled Riley into his chest, holding her securely, and she was almost instantly calmed. All the what-ifs fell away, and it was just them. All she needed was the be with him, wherever that turned out to be, and everything else would fall into place.

But what if Drake didn't quite feel the same? They'd been talking as if they'd be together indefinitely, but in reality, they'd only known each other two months. The anxious fluttering in her chest started up again.

Drake pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Riley, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. You know, we're both still half American. We can move back to the states....or uh, I mean you can move back to the states if that's what you want." His eyes darted bashfully to the ground.

Riley's face lit up, the nervous thumping in her chest giving way to excited butterflies. "I like the sound of 'we' better if that's what you really meant. You'd really move back to the U.S. with me? I mean I've hardly had the chance to think about what I want, so that may be irrelevant, but you seriously see a future with me?"

"I do." Drake smiled earnestly. "I'm sure anyone who knows me will think I've gone mad, but whether it means being in New York City and putting up with cramped apartments and way too many people, living a quieter, simple life in Texas, or stealing moments away at dreadful Cordonian events such as this, I know we can make our own happiness...together."

"Wow, the Drake Walker I met two months ago would not believe what's coming out of your mouth right now." Riley touched the back of her hand to Drake's forehead in jest. "Are you sure you aren't running a fever?"

"Haha, very funny." Drake swiftly but gently pushed Riley back again the stone wall. "I'm not feeling ill, but I know how to make your temperature rise.

"You pushing me against duchy walls is becoming a thing, huh? Must have really enjoyed the almost public sex last time."

"Possibly," Drake teased as he slipped his hand through the side-slit in her icy-blue gown, gently gliding his fingers up her thigh. Riley braced herself as Drake neared the place she wanted him the most. Goosebumps gave way to a burning need before she remembered where they were.

"Wait." She pushed a hand against his chest. "We're not exactly alone here, and we've gone to such lengths to keep this under wraps. Someone could walk out here at any moment."

Drake shrugged. "I know it may be a bit reckless, but honestly at this point, I don't care. I just want you."

Riley opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out before Drake swooped in for a searing kiss. She instantly melted into him, Drake continuing his earlier action and deftly plunging two fingers inside her, his eyes widening slightly in surprise when he noticed there was no fabric barrier to work around. A strangled moan escaped Riley's throat as he stroked the exact spot he knew always left her at his mercy.

Drake pulled back with a satisfied grin. "Do you want me to stop? Just say the word and we'll go back in right now."

Instead of answering, Riley yanked him by the collar and crushed her lips to his. Drake responded by hoisting her up and over to the balcony. He perched her atop the railing, one hand grasped firmly around her waist and the other making quick work of undoing his pants.

Teetering on the narrow ledge two stories high, Riley clamped her hand tightly to the railing on either side of her and Drake noticed. "I've got you Bennett, no need to worry. I won't let anything happen to you. I'm just doing my job after all," he said with a smirk.

She smiled at his reference to what was now an inside joke between them. But all joking aside, he always made her feel safe. She released her grip, flinging her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

Drake eased his cock free and Riley could tell how hard he was just by sight, the skin stretched taught from his perfect proportion of thickness and length. He lifted her dress and she couldn't wait any longer. She pulled him in and he took the invitation to thrust inside her. Even as wet was she was, his size created just the right amount of fullness and friction to take her breath away.

Riley moaned and gasped with each thrust, which in turn seemed to turn Drake on even more. The thrill of being up so high with nothing but him to hold her only added to her excitement and when he began rubbing circles over her clit with his thumb that was all it took to push her figuratively over the edge. She tightened around him everywhere, her orgasm eliciting immense heat and pleasure with every pulse, resulting in Drake picking up his pace until his own release followed shortly thereafter.

Drake carefully set Riley down before putting himself back together. "I'm almost a little disappointed we didn't nearly get caught this time."

"If I don't get back in there immediately, that's still a possibility." Riley had no idea how much time had passed but it was probably more than she thought. "Fuck, Kat is going to be pissed." Riley straightened her skirt and started towards the ballroom door.

"Wait!" Drake puller her in for a quick kiss. "I love you. Just so you don't forget."

Riley rolled her eyes but smiled. "You know you have nothing to worry about. If Liam's charms haven't wooed me yet, I think you’re safe. But I love you too. Now go do your job." She smacked him on the ass before hustling back to the ballroom, Drake following shortly thereafter.

As expected, Kat was frantic when Riley found her. “Where the fuck were you? You were supposed to meet up with me twenty minutes ago?”

Overhearing Riley’s scolding, Olivia smugly sidled up next to them. “I mean, I didn’t mind getting extra time with Liam, but you know Jo and Kat and there ‘ratings’, Olivia said while gesturing with air quotes. She scanned Riley from head to toe and then glanced over to Drake on the perimeter. “Ugh, I can tell you exactly what, or rather who she was doing. Gross. I guess that just makes my position more secure, but really, couldn’t you have waited until after my ball to fuck him?”

Riley sheepishly smoothed her hair and adjusted her dress. “I just needed some air, that’s all. I was having a moment.”

Olivia scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want to call it. Although I still cannot fathom why you chose Drake, I suppose I should be a little easier on you for eliminating yourself from the competition and allowing Liam to break free of his distraction of the shiny new object.”

“Aww, Olivia, that’s so sweet. Next thing you know we’ll be best friends,” Riley replied sarcastically.

 “I don’t know about friends...but I do dislike you less than the rest of them.” Olivia tried and failed to hold back a smile.

“I’ll take it,” Riley said with a laugh before turning to Jo. “Okay, now tell me where I need to be.”

Jo set Riley up with Liam on the dance floor. It still wasn’t hard to pretend to be into Liam because it wasn’t all pretend, but there was no lingering pining between them.

“Well, I spoke to my father this morning.” Liam spun Riley around and brought her back to face him.

“Finally!” Riley exclaimed. “How did that go?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it to be completely honest, but it went surprisingly well. I told him I knew everything, and he no longer had a say in my decision. He tried to argue with me at first, but somehow something I said made him respect me. He still may not agree with my choice, but I think this is finally all over! I am free to choose who I want without any threat or blackmail hanging over my head.

Riley pulled Liam in and hugged him tightly. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you, and for all of us.” The weight on Riley’s shoulders was suddenly ten times lighter. She hadn’t let herself think too deeply about how much was at stake, but now that the air was clear, she realized how stressed she had been. “Now all that’s left is for you to tear my heart to pieces on national television, and you get your fairy tale ending.”

Liam chuckled. “I’ll try to let you down easy.”

-----

Drake stood in his usual position off the side of the dance floor. This may not be the last of these events he’d have to endure, but at least it should be the last time he’d have to stand on the sidelines watching Riley dance with someone else. He was secure in what they had, but it still didn’t stop that twinge of jealously seeing her and Liam together talking, touching, and having fun. But it wasn’t a bad thing that his best friend and girlfriend get along so well. Girlfriend...that’s the first time he’d used that term for anyone he’d “dated”, even if only in his head. It was hard to believe everything was falling into place.

Drake took his eyes off Riley to scan the perimeter. What he saw didn’t immediately register as out of the ordinary, but then he quickly recalled this person walking towards the dance floor wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Bastien, check out three o’clock.” Drake altered Bastien via his radio earpiece. “How did she get in here without security clearance?”

“I don’t know.” Bastien replied. “I’ll check with the other guys to see who let her in. Keep an eye on her.”

Drake watched in concern as Madeleine marched towards the dance floor. She’d been banned from the rest of filmed events after her stunt. Not wanting to let her cause a scene, Drake was about to stop her from getting any closer, when she pulled out an unmistakable object. She had a gun and it was pointed right at Riley and Liam.

Before Drake could alert the rest of the team, people started to scatter. He heard a familiar click and knew he had to disarm Madeleine immediately, but it was too late. A shot went off and he didn’t hesitate. Drake dove between the bullet and his two best friends on the dance floor, and that would be the last thing he remembered before he hit the floor.

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twelve

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: this took so long bc ive been reading chain of iron and in general agonizing over things i cant control instead of being productive 🥴 that being said, absolutely none of the events in this chapter were planned in my outline, but here we are with something new!

***

December brings more snow and bone chilling weather, to the point where Cassian has to drag Nesta out of bed, either physically or by phone call, to get her to therapy appointments on time. 

She’s in the waiting room one freezing morning when, in her utter boredom, she musters up the nerve to turn to the girl sitting next to her. “What are you in here for?”

The girl blinks her large blue eyes, taking notice of Nesta for the first time. Nesta uses the opportunity to take in her freckle-painted face, a little wan but beautiful. Reddish brown hair hangs around her face and shoulders, creating a thick curtain from the rest of the world, and Nesta’s curiosity piques like she’s just found a shiny new toy.

It probably isn’t right to compare people to toys, but then the girl says, “This isn’t prison, you know.” Her voice is deep, almost sultry— completely at odds from her huddled-in posture and sickened expression. “I didn’t commit a crime to have to be here.”

Is she insulted by Nesta’s question, or is she poking a joke? Nesta decides to play it safe by murmuring, “Sorry, never mind.”

She starts to turn away when the girl says, “We’re trying a new type of trauma therapy today. I had to get here half an hour early because I couldn’t swallow my nerves.”

Nesta might lack many social skills, but she isn’t stupid enough to ask what kind of trauma the girl is being treated for. Instead, she nods casually as if she understands the struggle. “I’ve been coming here for weeks now and I’ve barely discussed shit. That’s mostly on me, but you know…” She actually doesn’t know where she’s going with her train of thought. “It sounds brave to do whatever you're doing,” she states finally. “I don’t think I’ll be able to open up that much about myself, ever.” 

The girl gives Nesta a weird look that she immediately recognizes. Nesta uses it every time she doesn’t know how to respond to someone who takes her by surprise.

The door to Lana’s office clicks open, and the woman herself pokes her head out with a plain smile. “Ready, Nesta?”

Nesta bites down on her frown. She has a feeling today won’t be as easy as her past sessions.

She’s about to leave without another glance at the girl beside her when that low voice speaks up. “I’m Gwyn.”

Nesta looks back at her as she gets up from her chair, and says the first reply that comes to mind: “Good to know.”

***

Nesta is contemplative hours after she gets back from her therapy session, bundled up in her bed with a coloring book. The repetitive motion of filling in the mandala drawing lets her mind wander, picking up and dropping different thoughts like she’s inspecting stones. 

She keeps her wrist light as she colors in with red. She finally said Tomas’s name in therapy today, though the action left a slimy feeling in Nesta’s stomach that lingers even now. She also spoke about her sisters, which somehow ended up leading to a discussion of her uterus. 

“How have you been dealing with the endometriosis news?”

Nesta shrugged. “I’m getting treated, and my last period was more bearable than usual—”

“I mean mentally, how are you doing? With how your condition could affect your future?”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Affect me how?”

“Have you never considered the impact it could have on your ability to bear children?”

“Not everything in life is about bearing children, you know.”

“We’re humans. It’s definitely something to consider.”

“Not for me. I’ve never wanted kids.” A mistruth at best. “I don’t care what endo does or doesn’t do to me on those grounds.”

In a way, Nesta told herself, the health risks were actually for the best. If she ever did, by some stupid loss of sanity, try to have children, then her body would act as a safety net from her decisions.

Lana only said, “You’ll never know how much you care or don’t care until you talk out your feelings.”

“Then I guess we’ll never know.”

Nesta lets the memory of that conversation drop like a stone on a shore. That’s not something she has to face for a good long while. No, right now she has to face her past. 

Her sisters, and her ex, and even her father— 

I wonder if I came off too strong with Gwyn today. 

Her hand stops drawing, and she switches out her red marker for an orange one. This thought she doesn’t mind inspecting for a little longer: she and Gwyn ended up leaving their sessions at the same time, which meant they were forced into stilted conversation on the way down to the parking lot. 

Not forced, Nesta self-corrects. She willingly initiated a conversation, and it didn’t go terribly. She wonders if making friends in therapy waiting rooms is a real thing.

Her phone vibrates beside her, breaking her hours-long mental bubble. Blinking dazedly, she answers the phone call.

“How are you?” is the first thing Cassian says to her. He makes sure to ask her that at least twice a day, like a gauging of her temperature. It makes Nesta wonder what she’s ever done in her life to call for such… attention to her well-being. 

“I’m good,” she answers honestly. “My head’s a little loud right now, but I don’t mind it.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No, I’d rather hear you talk.” She slumps back against her pillows, coloring book forgotten. “What’s up?”

“Ah...” Cassian sounds hesitant for the first time since their relationship started. “It’s just that I haven’t gotten my Christmas decorations up yet, and I was going to ask if you wanted to help.”

Nesta takes a moment to absorb his words. “It’s December fifth,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“You just seem like somebody who does their decorations the day after Thanksgiving.”

“Well, this year is a little different, with you moving out and being busy with school…” He pauses. “I was waiting to do it with you.”

When she doesn’t reply, Cassian adds, “I don’t even know if you care about Christmas. I know you and your family sort of ignored holidays. It’s fine if you don’t want to—”

“I’ll be over right now,” Nesta blurts. 

Half an hour later, Cassian swings open his door with a smug grin on his face; a vast difference from the stammering hesitance he displayed over the phone earlier. Nesta’s own lips want to pull up into a smile just at the sight of him, but she holds back and narrows her eyes instead. “What’s got you so worked up?” she questions as she steps into the warmth of the cabin and out of the freezing cold.

“The way you ran over here as soon as I asked.” He looks her up and down, still amused. “You didn’t even bother to change, did you?”

It’s true: she’s in the same sweatpants and long sleeved tee she wore around home, and her socked feet are shoved into slippers. 

“Get that smirk off your face.” Nesta flicks his nose before tossing her coat off. “If this is a competition about who’s got a bigger puppy-crush for whom, you already won when you delayed putting up your Christmas decorations for me.”

“Fair enough,” he grins. The words send an unexpected pang through Nesta, because it’s partly true, isn’t it? He cares more openly for her than she does for him. 

She looks away in guilt, not knowing how to fix the imbalance. Her eyes land on the living room coffee table, where their half-finished jigsaw puzzle sits. It’s been stored under the couch for the past few weeks, forgotten by Nesta and Cassian alike as they moved on with their lives, but now it’s sitting out again.

“Have you been working on the puzzle without me?” She raises an inquisitive brow, about to feel— hurt.

“Never,” Cassian promises, saving her from that irrational hurt. “I just brought it out because I figured we should get to finishing it one day.”

She pads over to the table, picking up a puzzle piece and turning it over in her hand. “I don’t know if you remember, but we had a terrible time working on this,” she scoffs lightly.

“Oh, I remember,” he says, coming up behind her and stealing the piece from her grasp. “I think it’s safe to say those evenings were the worst fights we’ll ever have together.”

Nesta leans back against Cassian’s chest and hums. “It made us a stronger couple, don’t you think?” She turns her head up and back to meet Cassian’s eyes, finding that he’s already looking down at her.

Hypnotized, she leans into his warmth. She only manages to land the smallest kiss against his lips when his hand squeezes her ass cheek. “You’re here for a job, remember?” He taps her butt before pulling away, gesturing to the Christmas tree in the corner of the living area with his chin. It stands bare. “You do tinsel, I’ll do lights.”

Tinsel is harder to work with than Nesta remembers. She only manages to get half the tree done before plopping onto the Persian rug, exhausted and covered in silvery material. She doesn’t mind laying there while Cassian continues working; it’s her revenge for when he napped on her bed while she moved in.

“You know the stair railings still need to be wreathed, Archeron.”

Nesta declines to respond, tilting her head on the carpet for a better view of her boyfriend’s ass instead. “All this decorating,” she starts. “Is it just for you?”

Cassian turns to her, surprised. “Well…”

She pushes up onto her elbows, catching her mistake. “Are we doing Christmas together? Or are your friends coming over?” She hasn’t bothered to celebrate Christmas in years now, and she doesn’t care much what Cassian’s plans are either way.

“I was hoping for both?” He sounds hesitant. “Christmas Eve is all the way over in Velaris, but I was thinking we could go together, open some presents, and come back and spend Christmas here.”

Nesta purses her lips. She doesn’t actually hate that plan. Both Feyre and Elain have been pestering her with the annual texts asking her to visit for Christmas, and for once, she feels like responding to them. The invitation is more of a formality than an actual request at this point; she doubts her sisters want her there after years of rejections, but… what’s the harm?

“Is that a yes?” Cassian asks at her unreadable face.

“Yes,” she states unflinchingly. She refuses to overthink the possible consequences of this choice and chooses to focus on the broad grin overtaking Cassian’s face. “Really?” he says.

“But there has to be rules.” Nesta sits up fully now. “No one can know we’re together, no matter how much you trust or love them.”

“We already agreed to that, baby.”

Yes, but Nesta knows the secret weighs on him heavier than he shows— even if he agrees with her that it's for the best. “It’ll be different when we’re together in the same room as everyone else,” she says. Cassian wears his beating heart on his sleeve, and she doesn’t think he’s ever had to hide it before.

“You’ll also be different,” she adds. “It’s a huge change of pace.”

Cassian drops the remaining strand of lights and smiles confusedly down at her. “What do you mean, I’ll be different?” He sits across from her, before the blazing fire. 

“You know how you get around your friends.” Nesta shrugs without a thought. “Like your personality readjusts to mirror the people around you. I used to find it a mix of sad and adorable, like a neglected puppy desperate for love, but now I— okay, I still feel the same way.” She waves a hand in a dismissive gesture.

By the look on Cassian’s face, he does not find her words so easily dismissed. 

Coldness curdles in the pit of Nesta’s stomach, the realization that she’s said something wrong. She can’t fix it until she knows where she fucked up, though.

“Is that what you think of me?” Cassian finally says lowly. His usually expressive mouth is drawn tight and narrow. 

“Um… What would you rather I think of you?”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “Seriously, Nesta?”

Nesta’s back stiffens, refusing to cower. “I only described what I’ve observed in the past.”

“And what you observed was a desperate puppy?” His voice is cold in a way she’s never heard before.

Okay, she’s starting to see how that might be offensive. She forges onward, “Tell me what you think about yourself in the presence of your family, then.” It’s a private victory that she says family instead of clown circus. But she’s not trying to turn this into a fight.

Cassian is silent, but his stare continues to rage at her.

“Tell me,” Nesta repeats.

His hands curl into fists on the rug. “I think I’m empathetic, easy to talk to, and easier to be around. Is it a problem if I’m likable?” Unlike you are the unsaid words.

Nesta inspects the space between them like it’s a chessboard. “And what part of yourself are you giving up to be so likable, Cassian?” she says quietly.

“Nothing.”

Nesta disagrees, if only because she’s been watching him out of the corner of her eye for years. “I think you base your personality off of those you love, and you lose a little bit of your true self every time you put others’ needs before your own.” 

She shuts her mouth, not having expected such honesty to come out of it. Cassian is taken aback, too, she can tell.

“And I guess it’s natural that you’d see all of that as a bad thing, considering your history of being closed off and self-serving to a fault,” he fires back with the flatness Nesta utilizes so often.

One for one. Fair enough. “We’re both right then,” Nesta says. “You work for your best friend because you have no ambition beyond serving your family, and I have no such family because I can’t bring myself to care about those things. Are we even now?”

Cassian furrows his brows, those defensive walls melting away as he realizes she’s completely serious. “What? No, Nes—” He shakes his head. “Okay, so maybe you’re right about me. Maybe I agree with you a little bit, but… If we see flaws in each other, then we should be working to overcome them instead of weaponizing them.”

Now Nesta’s the one shaking her head, quickly lifting a hand to stop him. “Relax there, sweetheart. I have no expectations from you or myself to go on some self-improvement journey now that we’re together. Talking about my feelings with a professional every week is hard enough.” Yes, agreeing to go to Feyre’s Christmas party is improvement. Slow, barely there improvement, but enough to wear her out for the rest of the month. For Nesta to fully let people into her life, to treat them as lovingly as she treats Cassian— that’s a long way away. She can’t envision it, doesn’t even know if she wants it.

Cassian must understand some of what she’s thinking, because he nods and backs off. He gets back up and returns to stringing lights, tossing a handful of tinsel at Nesta as if to say Get back to work. 

She stands and obeys, thinking their not-argument is officially over when Cassian says, “You’re wrong about one thing.”

She looks up from where she threads tinsel through fir leaves. He doesn’t take his eyes off his work as he says, “You do have a family. And deep, deep down, you care about them as much as I care about mine.”

***

Nesta catches Emerie’s eye as the dark-haired beauty walks into the pub. Raising a hand and waving, she gestures Emerie over to the booth she’s sitting in. 

“Look what I found,” Nesta says with a hint of pride, pointing to the redhead sitting beside her. “A third girl for girl’s night!”

“I was kidnapped,” Gwyn speaks up. “Jumped on the way to my car.” She’s out of her usual hoodie and in a tight-fitting blouse, looking stunning even while seeming out of place in the dim bar.

“She came here consensually,” Nesta retorts. “Emerie, this is Gwyn. We met at therapy.”

Gwyn offers Emerie an awkward smile.

Emerie slides into the booth across from them with raised brows. She looks between Nesta and the new girl and back again. “You invited her here? All by yourself?” she asks.

Nesta nods firmly.

Emerie breaks into a wide grin and reaches over the table to grab Nesta’s hand. “I’m so proud of you!” If Emerie were anyone else, she’d be squealing in excitement, but Emerie does not squeal.

Nesta waves off her friend’s praise, though a part of her wants to beam at it, too.

Gwyn glances between the two of them with slight amusement. “I mean, it’s not that impressive,” she says. “She came on a bit too strong, probably a five out of ten on the asking-someone-out scale.”

“‘A bit too strong’ is all you’re gonna get with Nesta,” Emerie says, lifting her hand to order drinks. “She’s all-or-nothing, and most people would pray she doesn’t give them her nothing.���

Nesta doesn’t know if that’s a compliment, but she supposes there are worse things that could be said about her.

“So, Gwyn, what do you do?” Emerie leans forward. “All our friends are law students and it’s starting to get boring.”

Gwyn goes off about her librarian job as Nesta orders their drinks, and Emerie rests her chin in her hand and listens eagerly. Christmas music plays softly in the background and snow flurries gently outside. Nesta thinks she can’t be doing that bad in life, if she’s managed to carve out this little slice of happiness for herself.

***

a/n: i promise shit actually happens next chapter! we're getting christmas with nessian and the ic in the same room for the first time

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Non-Sequential [Ch. 29]

Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers/Steve Rogers x Reader

One night, Steve Rogers met a beautiful dame named Y/N. He hadn’t intended on letting her get away. But fate had other ideas. Y/N appeared and disappeared in his life so hauntingly that Steve started to wonder if she was an angel meant to watch over him.

Word Count: 2,500

Chapter 28

The next 5 years simultaneously felt like they were moving too fast and too slowly.

Steve wondered if there would be limited visits from Y/N or if this was the rest of his life: just holding onto the past and praying that the next time she would stay for good.

But he knew that would never happen.

She would always leave.

Steve felt like he had returned to his teenage years when Y/N had first started visiting him. But watching her go now hurt a 100 times worse than back then. During that time, he hadn’t acknowledged that he loved her. He didn’t know what it was like to fully have her. 

What he would give to regain that naivety. He didn’t know how much longer he could handle such torture.

When Y/N did visit the present, Steve tried to seize it as much as he could. He tried to act normal, wait for Y/N to ask the questions so he could figure out what she knew and what she didn’t. By some miracle, she always knew about the snap.

Steve felt lucky, he wouldn’t know how to handle her naivety to how she would die. Nat always told him he was a terrible liar. He could only assume lying to the woman he loved would be even worse.

Steve was sitting at his window, staring out at Brooklyn. There was a steaming cup of coffee in his hand and he was waiting for it to cool down. The sun had just rose past the horizon. Most of the city was still sleeping. He started to enjoy watching it slowly wake up. It was one of the very few joys he found these days.

“Steve?” Her voice whispered from behind him.

He jumped at the sound, shooting to his feet and turning around.

In the process, he spilled some of the coffee on his hand and bare feet.

He hissed at the burn.

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry!” Y/N rushed forward.

Steve was both so surprised to see her and feel the boiling liquid on his skin that he didn’t realize Y/N was still completely naked.

“I’m fine. It’s OK.” He tried to tell her, only looking into her eyes.

One time Sam asked about the binding nudity that came with Y/N’s time traveling. He asked about it in a way that wasn’t really a question, but like he clearly wanted Steve to comment on it.

“Just so we’re clear, you’re asking what I think about my girlfriend being forced to be naked when she’s also forced to time travel at any given moment to a place she doesn’t know? Did I get that right?” He’d said it with the classic Steve Rogers sass.

But Sam got the point and never brought it up again.

Y/N’s nudity wasn’t something sexualized by Steve. He’d grown used to it. He assumed most people saw their naked wives and girlfriends, and only linked it to sex. But all it did for Steve was remind him of Y/N’s vulnerability.

Her skin was unprotected from the elements. That’s why she had almost frozen to death during the first time she ever traveled.

Her skin attracted unwanted attention. Steve would never forget when Y/N appeared at his military camp, standing innocently in front of an army that hadn’t felt a woman’s touch or seen a female body in months. He didn’t like to think what could’ve happened if Bucky hadn’t been there to look out for her.

Her skin reminded Steve that even though she didn’t don a uniform, there was still something about her that forced her to be different from the world – just like him.

Now her skin told Steve that she was much younger. 

There was no scar from getting shot during the Battle at the Triskelion, a scar on her abdomen from the medical team at the compound digging out a bullet. Then there were the scars that should’ve been scattered across her skin from when she was tortured by Hydra. Thanks to Wakandan medicine, they were almost invisible. But Steve was familiar enough with Y/N’s body that he could still just barely point them out. Those were nowhere to be seen either.

Which meant that the Y/N standing in front of Steve was from a much younger time.

“Did we…did we break up?” Y/N’s lip trembled as her eyes filled with tears.

Steve stepped forward. “What? Why would you think that?”

Her eyes looked around the room. “None of my stuff is here. It doesn’t even look like I live here.”

But it was true. There was hardly any personality to his Brooklyn apartment. Anyone that knew Y/N would expect her apartment to be filled with warmth, and the perfect lighting, and everything that made a home intimate and charming.

“Steve, did we break up?” Y/N’s voice shook as she repeated the question.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks and Steve couldn’t handle it anymore.

He closed the distance between them and pulled her into his body.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he muttered. “It’s OK. We didn’t break up.”

At least he didn’t technically have to lie about that.

She pulled away from being tucked into his body to look at his face. “What is this place?” It was still obvious she didn’t exist in this space.

“We just bought it,” Steve was quick on his feet. “It came furnished and we haven’t moved all of our stuff in yet.”

Y/N seemed to believe him. “Where am I?”

“You’re away on a freelance job.”

She nodded, processing the new information.

“Would you like some clothes?” He asked her gently.

Y/N laughed lightly, apparently having forgotten that she was fully naked. 

She sniffled, trying to clear her nose and nodded.

A few minutes later, Y/N was in Steve’s sweats, sitting at his kitchen island with her own coffee cupped between her palms.

“I’m sorry – again – that I scared you into spilling coffee on yourself,” she winced.

Steve chuckled. “Y/N, believe it or not, I’ve suffered much worse injuries than hot coffee burns.”

“Right,” she smiled. “You’ve just casually been shot a few times and survived a plan crash.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Amongst other things.”

“Amongst other things,” Y/N agreed and repeated back.

A peaceful silence settled between them.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “You know, I don’t believe you.”

“About the hot coffee?”

“About us not being broken up,” Y/N confirmed.

Steve just tightened his jaw. He didn’t know how much more he could lie to her.

Y/N slowly stood up and closed the distance between them. When she was in his space, she carefully reached up to brush his cheek with her thumb.

“Your eyes… they’re so sad. And they get even sadder every time you look at me.”

“We’re on a break,” Steve quickly told her. He hoped a half lie would save him.

Y/N nodded. And he knew that she believed that one.

She opened her mouth to ask more.

“Please, don’t ask me to say more about it,” Steve begged.

Y/N just nodded.

But then she stepped even closer to him. “Do you miss me?” She whispered as her gaze flickered down to his lips.

Steve’s chest hurt from the question alone. Present and future Y/N had never prepared him for having interactions like this.

He just nodded his head, knowing that if he tried to say actual words then he’d just let out some pathetic whimper.

Y/N leaned even closer. Her gaze flickered to his, silently asking him if he wanted her to stop.

But Steve didn’t have that sort of self control.

So Y/N kissed him.

And he felt her surprise when he responded with a hunger she didn’t expect.

Without hesitation, he pulled her closer. But it still wasn’t enough. Then his hands slid down the outside of her thighs and then gripped the back of them. He scooped her up and pulled her hips to his waist, holding her there until she realized she needed to wrap her legs around him. But it still wasn’t enough.

He pulled away from the kiss. “Do you want me to stop?” His words struggled while he also tried to catch his breath.

Y/N gave him a shy smile and shook her head before giving him a sweet and precise peck on the lips.

“No, I don’t.” Then she laughed, “But maybe we could move this to the bedroom.”

Even if she wasn’t his in this time period, Y/N still knew what Steve needed. And she was more than willing to give it to him. 

——————————

Steve always got this guilty feeling after sleeping with a version of Y/N that wasn’t her present self. No matter how many times Y/N told him it wasn’t, Steve could always convince a part of his mind to believe he had cheated.

Y/N had fallen asleep so quickly. It didn’t matter that she was out of her time. She always felt safe with Steve.

Meanwhile, Steve wouldn’t allow himself a second of sleep. He wasn’t going to waste a moment with Y/N by not being awake. How could he?

Instead he held her naked body against his chest. He switched back and forth between tracing the line of her spine to thumbing circles on her shoulder.

The more time he spent without Y/N in his present, the harder it was to watch her other selves leave him.

He glanced at the clock on his nightstand and sighed. He had to go to his group therapy in a few hours.

If Y/N was still here by then, he’d skip it. Lie and tell them he was sick. 

Those sessions made him feel like a mockery anyway. At least once a week, he sat in a circle and told people they needed to move on with their lives. Meanwhile, he was still in a relationship with his dead girlfriend. She was a ghost that haunted him. He lectured other people how to live their lives in a post-snap world when he couldn’t go a minute without hoping a future or past Y/N would visit him soon.

Steve was taken out of his thoughts when Y/N stirred next to him.

She wasn’t waking up; she was leaving. 

He saw her body start to fade.

There was nothing he hated seeing more than watching Y/N travel.

Was she going back to her own present? Was she going somewhere else? Would she be safe? Would this be one of her trips where she got hurt or almost killed?

And then, just like that, Y/N was gone. And Steve was alone once again.

Steve hoped his sheets would smell like her for longer than they did last time.

He should probably shower before he went to group, but he didn’t want to lose the feeling of her on his skin. He just wanted it to linger, if that was even possible.

That’s when he decided he needed more than a talk with a group of strangers. He needed a friend – a real friend – who knew what he was actually going through.

——————-

Steve hated going to the compound since the snap.

It was like going to a haunted house.

He never knew what memories would be resurrected when he visited.

Sometimes it was just the way the sun lit the room for a second or he’d catch a certain smell, then he was suddenly thrust into a memory linked to Y/N.

Steve found Nat in tears. 

It was subtle, but it still broke his heart to see her upset. She was the strongest of them all. If she couldn’t hold it together, that’s when the rest of them truly knew how bad things really were.

“Ya know, I’d offer to cook you dinner, but you seem pretty miserable already.”

“You here to do your laundry?” She teased, trying to hide that she’d lost her composure for even a second.

“And to see a friend,” he added.

“Clearly your friend is fine.”

“What if your friend is the one that’s not?” He offered.

Her forced smirk faltered. “She show up today?”

Steve sighed and nodded. “She thought we broke up. It took one look around my apartment to know she didn’t live there.”

“You’re a terrible liar, so I could only imagine how that went.”

“Well, I eventually got her to believe we were just on a break, instead of telling her that she was…”

“Dead?” Nat offered.

Steve’s jaw just tightened at the word. He moved to sit across from her.

“It’s the first time she didn’t know about it. And now I’m wondering if I prefer the version of her that doesn’t know what's going to happen to her.”

Nat just hummed, understanding what he meant.

Steve’s eyes glazed over as he thought about it. “How was she able to just live every day knowing what was going to happen?”

“She had to learn to accept what she couldn’t control awhile ago, Steve. She didn’t have any other choice.”

“Why couldn’t she tell me?” He thought aloud, frustration clear in his voice.

“Because she knew you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You would’ve made yourself crazy trying to stop what you couldn’t. Nothing else would’ve mattered...including her.” Nat sighed. “Maybe she just wanted to embrace what little time she had with you. She can ignore the ticking of a time bomb, but not you.”

Steve knew Nat was right.

Suddenly, there was a ping and a hologram appeared in front of Nat.

She pressed a few buttons in the air and a video played out.

Next thing they knew, Scott Lang was fumbling his words at the front gate’s security camera.

Steve slowly stood up. Scott Lang was meant to be dead. “Is this an old message?”

“It’s the front gate,” Nat told him.

An hour later, Scott had stopped his pacing and explained his time travel theory.

Steve looked at Nat and immediately knew that she didn’t find Scott as crazy as he did.

But Nat had been searching for hope these past 5 years, while Steve refused to let it into his life.

“Tomorrow we’ll go see Tony,” Steve confirmed. “For now, you should get some rest, Scott.” Then he looked at Nat. “We all should.”

That was code for, ‘Don’t get excited.’

She clearly got the underlying message, but refused to ignore the hope.

—————————

Steve walked into his old room at the compound. He was only ever there when he visited Nat, which wasn’t often at all. He only kept some things there because he saw the hurt in Nat’s eyes when he had once suggested he completely clean it out.

When he turned on the light, he immediately noticed an envelope on the nightstand.

It was a letter addressed to him at the compound.

But Steve’s heart raced when he recognized the writing as Y/N’s.

“FRIDAY, where did this letter come from?” He asked the AI.

“It arrived in the mail today, Captain Rogers.”

He ripped it open instantly, his hands shaking in the process.

But there were only three words for him to read:

Listen to Scott.

Steve felt his heart beat faster.

And for the first time in 5 years, he felt hope.

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

Ya’ll, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. 

[ginkgomoon]

Victor and the Time Observers- Analysis

It’s finally here! This post is based on a question asked about the Time Observers and what their relations with Victor was! I deeply apologise to the anon for this response taking too long. I wanted each of my posts to be able to reach a standard where it’s adequate enough to satisfy me and most importantly the readers. Contains lots of spoilers, please do not read if you would not like to be exposed to future content! Here we go! ⏱

The Observer Effect definition-

"The observer effect is the disturbance of an observed system by the act of observation."

Who are the Time Observers?

“What is “intervention”, “correction”, “destiny”? Can we really figure out the mystery behind it?”

The Time Observers is an independent third party under the Space and Time Administration. They can travel through time and even tap can even tap into multiple universes/dimensions, such as when seeing MC in Behind the Curtain and when she travels to another universe in the Winter World. They are seen to be using pocket watches as their transportation tickets to other worlds in each timeline.

They were there in the 1908 White House explosion- where Evol was created, where to which Lucien states, “from then on, many futures have already been decided”. This was due to a comet hitting Earth which created a mini-black hole at the same time from the attack of an American hacker who could transmit data through laser pulses. Grandpa Chuck, the original Helios, and the Time Observers were all there. Soft piano music can be heard when they appear.

“Please stop spreading information about the explosion. Your actions have already affected the progress of this world. Someone has become aware of our presence.”

Victor: “Your people aren’t the only ones who can alter the future, Time Observer.”

“You misunderstand. We never alter, we are correctors of history. We want you to join us, your power’s scope of influence has already surpassed the dimension of this current world. Before you are rejected by it…”

Victor: “I will not leave this world.”

“Even if you’ve seen the future of what is all to pass?”

Victor: “No matter what happens, the person I’m seeking for is right here.” -Chapter 6 Black Curtain

Space and Time Administration

“You’re becoming more like the Victor I am familiar with.”

"Really, what’s he like?”

“Powerful enough to control anything… including time.”

The Space and Time Administration is an observation agency independent of all forces. They are noted for not having a guide or workbook- they just know what to do through their observations day by day. Their work is to observe and note statistics of time changes in the timelines, and the butterfly effect that each one produces. (Apparently more than 90% are negative.) Ultimately, their goal to stable the operations of the different worlds on all timelines.

Since Victor’s Evol is strong and has the capability to do more than the Time Observers, he is the one who is deemed the most suitable and more responsible for “grasping the time in the past and the future”. Ever since STF found out about Victor’s Evol, they wanted him to cooperate with them too, because every time he stops time, certain surrounding energy and space changes.

The organisation also entertains the idea of fate, and how things should be refused to be changed. Since they have “seen the future of how the world ends”, they want Victor in cooperating with them in making it stop. Nobody can rewrite the ending among them, except him. Victor refuses to joining because he doesn’t adhere to this idea.

“QUEEN’s return has brought unexpected consequences; the entire collapse of the world is ahead of schedule. The world’s line has come to an end, no matter through time or space, we can no longer interfere in this world.” Was there a difference in letting each world go to the end alone to close all the world lines in the future directly?

Victor: "But since the responsibility of the Space and Time Administration is to prevent the person who rewrites the world ending, don’t you think I am this kind of person? Moreover, the existence of time is objective, but the negative effects are subjective. I doubt 90% of your statistical results.”

"Nobody can maintain the critical value of the stable operation that each world line has reached. Everyone thinks they have done it. In the end, destruction is coming. We are not looking for anything, we are just waiting, waiting for what should happen when it comes to happen.”

ZERO

“In 1908, there was an explosion at the White House in the United States. There were no casualties, but the people there testified that there was no explosion.”

Amongst them, there was a man who looked familiar, but Victor couldn’t remember whether he had met him somewhere or not. He was gripping a pocket watch. Then, the young man left the spot.

The Time Observer Zero in the organisation is one most familiar with Victor, and had observed Victor travel through multiple timelines, consoling with him about his “failures”. He sympathises with him as he believes that the fate of the world cannot be changed, even if Victor tires himself to try otherwise.

“Now the world line is collapsing one by one, we’re running out of time. We can tell you where she is now.”

Time Observers can seemingly also allow others to see into different worlds too, almost how Grandpa Chuck can create and travel into different pocket glass dimensions, but not permanently enter inside. Zero personally lets Victor in.

“You should be aware of the consequences for doing this.”

“I said, my purpose is only one.”

Victor’s tone revealed unquestionable certainty. Zero willingly approached him with his hands stretched out to him.

“However, other matters are my own decision.” -Chapter 18 Rumours and Secrets

Chapter 33-34 Rumours and Secrets

"I’m wondering what happened in the in between- is it the decision of time or is someone interfering?”

He had told me that there was a group of people in the world waiting on various timelines to revise history.

“But amending the fact that has been changed, is it a course of “correction”, or just another “change?”

“But in any case, the end point of all timelines points all the same -this has not changed from the beginning.”

“Her destiny is tied to all timelines and she must walk into the only ending with this world.”

"You are also different.”

Although we found a breakthrough, this situation really caused us a lot of headaches: she who should not have survived and she should not have been sent to other worlds. As a result, it would seriously interfere and disrupt the timeline. No one had done it before, and no one except Victor could do it.

In disbelief, we weighed it and threw the olive branch- as long as he is willing to cooperate, we will help him find her. As decisive as he was to refuse a few times before, this time he had promised me without thinking. And for a moment, I didn’t know if his decisiveness was good or bad.

Once they had seen that MC was able to defy all odds in coming back alive and en route to becoming QUEEN, they were willing to fully accept Victor's decisions and perseverance on MC and why she was so important to saving their world, instead of him.

Chapter 35-36 Rumours and Secrets

Occasionally, Victor would visit the organisation and observe his hometown world, before Judgement Day. They watch as other worlds collapse and fade away.

Time is best at consuming people’s patience. He will understand that in accordance to the next decade, a century, a thousand years, that the world is just one of our many observation objects. At the end of limitless time- the only thing we can’t do is to change the past that doesn’t belong to us.

Victor doesn’t care about this price- he is more concerned with whether he can prevent the death of the girl in every unpredictable future.

"At least only in the Space and Time Administration can you repair your abilities. This, you know better than me.”

“But you can be rest assured that even if you still intend to return to that world after the deadline, the time flow rate there is a month. But if you stay here, you can continue to look for that ending.”

At that moment, full of hope and courage, I crossed the timeline again without hesitation. This time, he accepted Zero’s invitation.

The white crown slowly fell on the girl’s head, and the thin shadow almost turned into a phantom in the white light.

“The person who can save the world… is not me, but her. As for myself, I know my ending line and how much pain I can bear better than anyone. I would rather take such a risk.”

Zero looked at him without a word, and sighed heavily for a long time.

“Time is up.”

Judgement day arrives- to trigger the beginning of Season 2.

[btsqualityy]

Assuage: Chapter 2

Yoongi x Reader

Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, angst, fluff, smut, enemies to lovers

Warnings: None to note.

The following week that Yoongi spent in the medical cabin was quite possibly the most boring of his life. After what he had been through though, he realized that he almost preferred the quiet and stillness that was trademark of the medical cabin that he had been staying in. 

In addition to memorizing how many indents were in the right hand side of the wall right next to the cot that he slept on (73, to be exact), he also learned just how annoying of a person Kim Taehyung was. 

“Come on hyung,” Taehyung whined playfully as he pulled on Yoongi’s right arm. “I really wanna show you around pack territory.”

“I didn’t say that you can call me hyung,” Yoongi grumbled back. 

“I snuck a peak at your medical records when Y/N-ah wasn’t looking. You’re 27 and I’m only 22 so you’re my hyung,” Taehyung smirked mischievously.  

“And I don’t need a tour,” Yoongi continued on. “I’m not staying here.”

“No offense hyung, but you’re a Prime Alpha,” Taehyung pointed out. “Your injuries are more than healed enough for you to be able to leave so if that was what you really wanted to do, then you would’ve done it already.” Yoongi just glared at him then, hating the fact that the Beta was very much so correct.

“Alright, fine,” Yoongi relented. “But make it quick.”

“I promise hyung, super quick,” Taehyung nodded in agreement. 

After pushing Taehyung away when he tried to help Yoongi up, he slowly followed Taehyung outside of the medical cabin and this was the first time that Yoongi had seen the surroundings of the cabin. There were several large buildings that weren’t far from each other, and Yoongi figured that this area served as a “town commons” of sorts. He could also see some smaller cabins that were further in the distance, and he just assumed that those were for individual members of the pack and their families. 

“As you know, this is our medical cabin,” Taehyung began as he motioned behind them before pointing his finger over to the right. “That over there is the schoolhouse for the pups and right next to it is the dining hall.”

“Everyone has to eat there?” Yoongi questioned, the idea of being forced to eat around a large group of people not appealing to him in the slightest. 

“No, we mainly just use it for big ceremonial events, like parties or if another pack visits, stuff like that,” Taehyung explained. “It’s still open everyday though, for all three meals, for whoever wants to go there and eat if they don’t feel like cooking themselves.”

“Ahh,” Yoongi nodded.

“That over there,” Taehyung continued, pointing over to his left now. “Is the Head Hall, which is where Namjoon and the other leaders of the pack work. And right next to that, is the hardware shop.”

“You guys have a hardware store?” Yoongi interrupted him. “You guys just don’t get furniture and stuff from the Betas in Seoul?”

“Nope. I think you’ll realize that around here, we tend to follow the Old Way of pack life, and that includes making everything that we need ourselves,” Taehyung told him. “Speaking of that, do you have anything that you’re particularly good at?”

“Um, I’m pretty good with my hands and building things, I guess,” Yoongi shrugged.

“Cool, Namjoon hyung will probably have you working with Kibum then. He’s the head carpenter,” Taehyung said as he began to walk away and Yoongi trailed behind him. “That is, if you decide to stay.”

“Hmm,” Yoongi hummed noncommittally. Just then, a loud bell rang out into the air, causing Yoongi to almost jump out of his skin. “What the hell was that?”

“Oh, that was just the signal that if anyone wants it, there’s lunch in the dining hall,” Taehyung grinned. “Personally, I’m starving. What about you hyung, you hungry?”

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

Yoongi was very much not hungry, but he couldn’t tell Taehyung that before he had managed to grabbed Yoongi’s good hand and lead him into the dining hall. The dining hall was separated by two large rooms, one with multiple stoves and other kitchen appliances and the other with multiple long, rectangular dining tables complete with chairs. 

After bypassing the rectangular buffet style table that sat right in front of the entrance, Taehyung dragged Yoongi into the room with the dining tables, leading him over to one of the tables in the front that was full of people.

“Oh, he let you drag him out,” a tall, slender man snickered and Yoongi could tell by his scent that he was an Omega. 

“Don’t make fun Jin hyung, be nice,” Taehyung grumbled as he sat down, motioning for Yoongi to do the same. 

“I’m always nice!” Jin shot back, making everyone at the table except Yoongi laugh at him.

“Yeah right,�� a woman sitting right next to him giggled before turning to look at Yoongi. “Hi, I’m Hyorin, Pack Omega and Namjoon’s mate.”

“I’m Yoongi,” he grumbled back in reply.

“I should’ve done introductions huh?” Taehyung suddenly spoke up, as if remembering his manners. “Yoongi hyung, this is Park Jimin.”

“Hi, I’m an Omega and I’m the teacher for the pups in the pack,” Jimin added with a wide smile. 

“This is Jung Hoseok, but we call him Hobi,” Taehyung said as he motioned towards Hobi. 

“Alpha,” Hobi nodded evenly at Yoongi.

“This meanie over here is Kim Seokjin,” Taehyung rolled his eyes playfully.

“Omega, I only go by Jin, and I’m not mean!” Jin stated firmly.

“Are you guys related?” Yoongi found himself asking, and both Kims shrugged their shoulders.

“Yes, but not in the way that you’re probably thinking,” Jin replied.

“We’re cousins,” Taehyung elaborated. “My father and his mom were siblings.”

“Ahh,” Yoongi nodded.

“Hey hey,” a sudden voice called and when Yoongi looked over his shoulder, he saw a tall, muscular man walking towards him, you and Namjoon following behind him. 

“Hey, took you long enough,” Taehyung smiled widely, his scent increasing when the man leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Yoongi hyung, this is Jungkook.”

“Nice to meet you Yoongi,” Jungkook nodded towards him, his eyes widening when he took a sniff of the air. “Holy shit, you’re Prime.”

“Tae didn’t tell you?” Namjoon chuckled as he took a seat next to Hyorin. “I figured he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut.”

“I was trying to let Yoongi hyung rest and not be bombarded,” Taehyung explained before looking over at Jungkook, who had sat down on the opposite side of him from Yoongi. “Sorry baby Alpha.”

“I’m hurt,” Jungkook smiled, reaching over and lightly running his fingertips over Taehyung’s wrist, where his scent gland was. Suddenly, there was another bell and Yoongi noticed that people were beginning to get up and move towards the long buffet table. Yoongi began to get up as well, until Taehyung’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. 

“Not yet hyung,” Taehyung said and Yoongi’s eyebrows rose as he looked at him.

“Why not? The food’s ready, right?” Yoongi wondered.

“Yeah but in our pack, pups and elders eat first,” Taehyung told him. 

“Seriously?” Yoongi chuckled in disbelief. “Shouldn’t the Alphas eat first, if anyone?”

“And why would they eat first?” You questioned from your seat next to Jimin, and Yoongi cut his eyes at you. 

“Well for starters, Alphas are the ones who hunt and bring back the food in the first place,” Yoongi began. “And secondly, Alphas are at the top of the hierarchy anyways.”

“Not around here, they’re not,” you chuckled. “Look, in this pack, anyone who wants to hunt can, so it’s not just exclusive to Alphas. And we feed pups and elders first because without the elders, our pack would have no guidance and without the pups, our pack would have no future so we respect them as such.”

“Well, that’s not how it worked in my old pack,” Yoongi shrugged.

“We’re not your old pack and for the sounds of it, that’s a good thing,” you smiled. An awkward silence settled over the table then, everyone not knowing what to say. Yoongi looked over you, noticing that you had a tattoo on your right shoulder.

“Oh, would you look at that?” Hyorin spoke up cheerily. “Looks like the pups and elders are done.”

“Come on Yoongi,” Jimin spoke up as he stood, motioning for Yoongi to follow him. “I’ll show you how to get the food.” Yoongi nodded and stood up, noticing out of his peripheral vision how you looked at him as he walked away. 

After they all had received their food, they all took their previous places at the dining table, chatting and making jokes among themselves. Yoongi sat there, silently attempting to feed himself with his left hand because he wanted to work on trying to strengthen it again from the fracture.

“Yoongi, how are your injuries doing?” Hyorin wondered suddenly and Yoongi looked up at her before shrugging. 

“They’re ok, I guess,” he replied.

“His fracture is almost completely healed,” you interjected and Yoongi looked over at you. 

“Oh, what I would give to be Prime,” Jungkook moaned playfully, making Taehyung laugh as he gently patted Jungkook’s hand. 

“It’s ok baby Alpha,” he cooed. “If it’s any consolation, you smell better than Yoongi hyung does.”

“Rude,” Yoongi muttered, almost jumping out of his skin when everyone at the table laughed. 

“He smells like freshwater, with a little hint of mango,” Jimin noted after taking a quick sniff of the air. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Unless you’ve grown up around saltwater all your life,” you joked, making Yoongi narrow his eyes at you as the table giggled at your joke.

“I’m an Alpha,” Yoongi reminded you. “I’m supposed to smell strong and stable. Besides, I’d prefer that over a fake ass, industrialized bubble gum scent.”

“First of all, it’s not industrialized or bubblegum, you dumb ass. You’re the one with the ‘Prime’ senses, you should be able to tell,” you spat back. “It’s white peaches and oranges.”

“Oh woop-de-damn-do,” Yoongi growled, and your eyes widened momentarily before you released a hiss of your own.

“Alright you two, cut it out,” Namjoon stated firmly, and both you and Yoongi glared at each other for a few moments longer before stopping.

“Thank God, I can’t eat with too many pheromones' in the air,” Jin rolled his eyes.

“So Yoongi, Tae was telling me that you’re pretty handy,” Namjoon suddenly said, expertly changing the subject and Yoongi was grateful for the out.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. 

“Well, I’ll set you up with Kibum then,” Namjoon told him. “He’s a little older and he’ll probably be happy to have the extra help. That is, if you’re willing.”

“I mean, I guess,” Yoongi shrugged carelessly. 

“There’s also a free cabin just on the edge of our territory that you can stay in,” Namjoon continued. 

“Hyunbin’s old one?” Hobi interjected and Namjoon nodded his head.

“If you want, I can take you there after we get done eating,” Namjoon offered. 

“Sure,” Yoongi replied and that was the end of that conversation as everyone resumed their previous discussions. When Taehyung first told Yoongi about the dining hall, he had balked at the concept of having to eat around complete strangers but now that he was actually doing it, Yoongi had to admit that he kind of liked the company. It wasn’t something that he was used to in his old pack, but it’s not as if he would’ve wanted to eat or even converse with most of his former packmates anyways. 

The whole thing was very abnormal to him but when he allowed himself to think about it, he had to admit that he kind of....liked the whole thing. He wasn’t ready to admit that out loud though; not yet, anyways.

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

Once lunch was over, Yoongi followed silently behind Namjoon as he led him to the cabin that he had told him about. As they walked, Yoongi made sure to take note of how to get there, since he would be staying there until he figured something else out. 

“And here we are,” Namjoon announced as he walked up the front steps to the cabin, pausing and taking a key out of his pocket to unlock the door before stepping inside. When Yoongi walked in behind him, he took a look around the cabin. Stepping through the front door led straight into the living room, and Yoongi could see that there was a little kitchen off to his right and a small hallway off to his left, where he assumed the bedroom and bathroom were.

“It’s bare because it hasn’t been used in about 7 months, but you can feel free to do what you wish with it,” Namjoon explained. “Working with Kibum though, I’m sure that this place will be filled in no time.”

“Yep,” Yoongi mumbled as he walked around Namjoon in order to get a better look around the cabin.

“Look Yoongi, I understand that you might be a little weary of me and the pack after what happened to you,” Namjoon began and Yoongi turned around to look at him. “But I do hope that you can understand that there’s no one who wishes to harm you here. We are a pack who takes care of each other and that now includes you, even if you decide that you want your stay to be temporary. Ok?”

“I get it,” Yoongi nodded, hesitating for a few seconds before continuing. “Thanks, for the cabin and...everything else.”

“You’re welcome,” Namjoon smiled, holding out his hand and when Yoongi reached out as well, Namjoon dropped the key to the cabin into his hand. “Well, I’ll let you try and get settled.”

“Alright,” Yoongi agreed easily, watching as Namjoon nodded at him once before turning and walking out of the cabin, shutting the door behind him. Yoongi then took another look around the cabin, sighing heavily when he realized that complete strangers had treated him better after only knowing him for a week than his old pack had after knowing him his entire life. 

[trekscribbles]

Triple Threat: A Stone Triplets Fic (Chapter 2)

Fandoms: Leverage/Leverage Redemption, Librarians, and Almost Paradise

Cross-Posted: Ao3 and FF

Summary: Eliot and Jake are both in the Philippines for separate jobs that turn out to be related. Kai takes the existence of Alex's brothers as a personal attack on her mental health. Ernesto happily goes along for the ride.

Read Chapter 1 here.

Chapter 2: Double Trouble

The last time Eliot saw Alex was when they were 16 years old. Alex had been living with Uncle Danny for 6 years at that point, so the brothers didn't have much of a relationship even then, and the reunion had been awkward and tense. Jake was the one who tried to keep them together, who talked their father into hosting Christmas that year. He was the one who'd called Alex and begged him to come home for a week. Just a week.

They'd lasted three days.

At the time Eliot had blamed Alex—immature, bull-headed Alex, whose verbal and then physical fights with their father had led to his living with Uncle Danny in the first place. If he could have just learned to keep his mouth shut, most of the fights wouldn't have happened. Eliot and Jake had learned that lesson—why couldn't Alex? He always had to have the last word, no matter what the cost.

That last visit was what finally convinced Eliot to leave home. He thought about college, but eventually decided to enlist as soon as he turned 18 (without telling their father). Jake was supposed to go with him, but he'd wanted to see Alex one more time before they left. When months went by and Alex didn't come back, Eliot left both his brothers behind.

Age had given Eliot perspective, but by the time he was ready to apologize, Jake wouldn't take his calls. Alex had already joined the DEA, and a series of undercover assignments for both of them made it impossible for Eliot to reach out. And then he got involved with Moreau, and getting in touch was no longer an option. It would have put them in too much danger, and that was one thing Eliot would never do. But after a while, even that became an excuse. After he escaped Moreau, after Nate created a team and a family for him, he let the silence continue. He'd made that choice on his own.

And now apparently Alex was in the Philippines. Permanently, according to the detective who introduced herself as Kai Mendoza. That was all she would tell him (through gritted teeth, as though Eliot had committed some unforgivable sin by asking). "We have to take care of this mess," she'd grumbled. "Then we'll take you to see Alex."

She hadn't asked if Eliot wanted to see Alex, and part of him was glad for that. If he'd been given the option, he wasn't sure he'd have said yes. It would have been easy to say that he was too busy, that he couldn't stay, that it was better for them not to meet. But now that the offer was there, Eliot couldn't turn it down. One way or another, he was going to see his brother today.

Kai and her partner Ernesto drove him and the two men they'd arrested to the police station, where Eliot was firmly told to stay in the car. Kai paused after giving the order as if waiting for him to argue, even after he nodded and promised to stay put. Apparently Alex hadn't changed much since they were kids.

While the others were inside, Eliot took a few minutes to call Hardison and update him on the job. It was just the two of them on this one, with Hardison pulling the strings from somewhere in Vietnam while Eliot worked on the ground in Cebu.

Hardison picked up on the first ring. "All done? I booked you a flight back to New Orleans on—"

"I ran into a little snag," Eliot interrupted.

"What kind of snag?"

Eliot explained most of his encounter with Kai and Ernesto, but he couldn't bring himself to include the fact that he'd been mistaken for one of his long-lost triplet brothers. Hardison knew he had siblings, but Eliot hadn't ever gone into details about them. He wasn't sure what he'd say now, and he knew Hardison would have questions. Best to leave it be. He'd give Hardison a more in-depth explanation later.

"So now what?" Hardison asked.

"Now we wait and see if they can salvage the sting. If they arrest Flores, our work is done."

"And if they don't?"

"I'll let you know."

There was a pause, as if Hardison was trying to decide whether or not to voice his next thought. "Is there something else?"

Eliot sighed. He tried not to lie to Hardison or Parker, but he didn't want to have this conversation now. "Not about the job," he answered. "I'll explain later."

To his credit, Hardison didn't argue, even though he had to be burning with curiosity. "Okay. Call back when you have more to share."

"Yeah."

It was another twenty minutes before Kai and Ernesto emerged from the police station, both wearing grim expressions. They were talking as they approached the car, and Eliot caught the tail end of their conversation through the open windows.

"I didn't want to bring him in on this," Kai was saying.

Ernesto shrugged. "We don't really have a choice anymore."

"Things get messy when his family is involved. It'll only complicate things."

Interesting. Which of his relatives had already come to the island? Evidently Eliot's family had a knack for disrupting the locals.

"Ocampo's orders," Ernesto said. He opened the passenger door and slid into the car, turning to look over his shoulder at Eliot. "We'll take you to see Alex, but you're going to have to come back to the station and explain what you were doing with Flores."

Eliot crossed his arms. "Figured you'd want to know that first."

"We do," Kai said, with a frown at her partner. "You owe the delay to Alex. He's helped us out in the past, and Ernesto thinks we should tell him you're here before he finds out from someone else."

"The surprise could kill him," Ernesto said mildly.

"You just want to see his face when we show up with his doppelganger."

"Don't you?" Ernesto asked. Kai huffed and dropped into the driver's seat.

They lapsed into silence during the drive, which Eliot appreciated. His stomach had begun an uneasy churn, though he told himself it was just because of the heat. There was nothing to be nervous about. Sure Eliot hadn't reached out, but neither had Alex. Neither had Jake, for that matter. Eliot had gone home once, just after he got out of the service, and found Jake had taken over the oil company. Their neighbors said that Jake was turning things around, digging out of debt and even managing a profit, and Eliot accepted the blessing and drove out of town without stopping by the house. It was enough that Jake was happy. He didn't need Eliot coming back and ruining things for him.

Kai pulled into the parking lot of another hotel, dodging groups of brightly dressed tourists as she went. "He owns the gift shop here at the resort," Ernesto explained, flashing a friendly smile over his shoulder. Kai didn't look at him as she got out of the car, but Eliot was happy to keep his silence. He trailed behind her as she led the way through the resort, winding around pools and umbrella-covered tables, slowing every few moments so Ernesto could greet someone. Apparently the friendliness wasn't an act—or else it was a very good one. But something about the man felt genuine, as if he couldn't be bothered to put up a front.

Kai, on the other hand... she was harder to read. Especially now that she wasn't giving Eliot anything to work with except the occasional glare.

Before long the bustle of the resort faded as concrete transitioned to sand beneath their feet. A small building rose ahead of them, still against the backdrop of gentle waves and lazy clouds. A soft breeze ruffled Eliot's hair, filling his lungs with salt and sunshine. He wanted to stop, to look out at the water and breathe in the sea spray and the silence, but the others kept walking.

No wonder Alex had picked this spot. If retirement was in Eliot's future, he could see himself in a place like this.

Ernesto reached the door, and Eliot took one last windswept breath to brace himself.

"You look nervous," Kai murmured.

No he didn't. He knew he didn't, because the only emotions he gave away were the ones he wanted people to see. And he was most definitely not nervous. But her eyes lingered on his, and something softened in her expression.

"Don't worry," she said, giving him a small, hesitant smile. "It'll be fine."

"Alex," Ernesto called, and Eliot's stomach gave another roll. This was a mistake. He shouldn't have come. He tried to back away, but Kai put her hand on his arm and cut off his retreat, guiding him inside.

The gift shop was empty besides one man restocking a rack of post cards. He stood with his back to them, but it was impossible to mistake him for anyone else. He had the same build as Eliot, the same brown hair he'd have to fight to keep straight in this humidity, the same scarred hands from years of work and fighting.

"Hey!" Alex said without turning around. "Check it out, I got new cards."

Ernesto started across the room, gesturing for Eliot to follow. "How come you didn't tell us you had a twin?"

Alex looked at him. "A twin? I don't have a tw—"

His eyes fell on Eliot, and his words died. Eliot could feel Kai watching them, waiting for a reaction, but he couldn't think of anything to say. Hey, how've you been the last 30 years? Oh, me? Well, first I was an international assassin, and now I work with a group of thieves who steal from the rich and give to the poor. I still punch people for a living though. How about you?

Something started beeping. Eliot started—no, not started, just looked around for the source—but Alex slapped his hand to his wrist and the sound stopped.

"Everything okay?" Ernesto asked. Alex made a noncommittal sound, glancing at him before returning his attention to Eliot. His eyes seemed bluer than Eliot remembered. It was probably just the lighting, but since it was the only thought that didn't spiral out of control, it was the one Eliot clung to. Blue eyes like their mother's, like the pond water in the back yard. Blue eyes that had been red with anger and hurt the last time he'd seen them.

"Which one are you?" Alex asked.

Behind him, Kai made a choking sound. Ernesto shushed her.

"But—" she sputtered. "Are there more of them?"

Eliot refocused on his brother. "You don't recognize me?"

"You both look the same," Alex deadpanned.

"Well, we're in the Philippines and I'm speaking English."

For a long moment Alex simply stared at him as if trying to read the details of their separation in his face. Then he reached out, and Eliot braced himself for the punch. He wouldn't fight back—not at first, not unless things got out of hand. He could take a hit or two, let Alex burn off some of his anger, and then try talking. They weren't 16 anymore. They could handle this like adults.

But Alex didn't hit him. His arms flashed out past Eliot's head, wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him tight. "Eliot," he murmured, crushing him in a hug that drove the breath from Eliot's lungs. He didn't care. He grabbed two fistfuls of Alex's shirt and squeezed, pressing everything he couldn't voice into the embrace.

"It's good to see you," Alex said at last, gruffly. He pulled away without taking his hands from Eliot's shoulders. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh... work."

Alex frowned at the hesitation. "What kind of work?"

Eliot sent a look over his shoulder, where Kai and Ernesto still waited. They clearly had some kind of relationship with Alex, but how far did that extend? Likely not far enough to keep from arresting Eliot for the half-dozen laws he'd broken to secure his meeting with Flores. "I'll tell you later."

"Now's as good a time as any," Kai said. "You can tell us now or at the station, whichever you prefer."

"We can give them a little longer," Ernesto argued.

"Flores is still out there. The longer we wait, the more time he has to act."

"Who's Flores?" Alex asked. He let his hands slide from Eliot's shoulders, a frown settling over his face.

Kai gave him a pointed look. "I'll tell you later."

"I think you should tell me now."

"I don't care what—"

Ernesto held his hands up, putting himself between the two of them. "Kai, we can give them a few more minutes to catch up. We'll be outside, Alex. Ten minutes." He looked at Eliot. "Then you come to the station with us. Understand?"

"Fine," Alex said. "Ten minutes. I got it."

Though Kai looked like she wanted to argue, she allowed Ernesto to guide her toward the door. "Nice friends you've got," Eliot muttered.

He'd meant it as a joke, but Alex gave a serious nod. "Yeah. They are. They're closer than some of my family."

Apparently they were going to fight after all. "I didn't know how to contact you," Eliot said.

"You're smart. You couldn't figure something out?"

"Couldn't you?" Eliot countered. "The last I heard you were undercover. Reaching out would have put you in danger."

"I'm retired now," Alex said.

"So I hear."

Alex crossed his arms over his chest. "I did try to find you. There was a rumor going around that you'd died."

"I didn't. Well, I did once, but it didn't stick."

"How long ago was that?"

"While you were still undercover."

Alex gave a frustrated growl. "Fine. We both could have done more, alright? Just... fill me in on the case."

The case was a safe topic, so Eliot embraced the change without complaint. He gave his brother the basics as he knew them: Robert Flores was looking to set up a base to smuggle drugs to the United States. Hardison had been tracking him throughout Asia, but when business kept him in Vietnam he'd contacted Eliot about finishing the job. "Should have been simple enough," Eliot said. "Set up a meeting, figure out his weakness, take him down."

"But you weren't the only one after him," Alex said. He heaved a sigh. "How mad was Kai when you showed up?"

An involuntary smile pulled at Eliot's lips. "She thought I was you. I think she wanted to kill me more than Flores's men did."

Alex chuckled, sobering a moment later. "So this is what you do? You go after international criminals?"

"More or less."

"With who? I mean—CIA? Interpol?"

"It's kind of a freelance operation."

Alex shook his head. "That doesn't make any sense."

"It's a lot to explain," Eliot said. "And I will, I promise. Soon as we have the time."

"Right." Alex gave him another long look, and a small grin appeared on his face. "It's good to see you, man. It's been too long."

Eliot didn't try to stop his answering grin. "You go by Walker now?"

"You'd already taken Mom's name. Didn't leave me with much of a choice."

"Yeah, but... Walker? As in Texas Ranger?"

Alex hissed and shot a look toward the door. "Don't say it out loud, man. I've got a reputation to keep up here."

Eliot laughed, but Ernesto chose that moment to knock and peek into the gift shop, effectively ending the conversation. "You two finished?" he called.

"For now," Alex answered. "Where's Kai?"

"She went to get some coffee. She'll be back any minute."

Alex nodded. "Good. I wanna be back before the afternoon rush."

"You're not coming," Ernesto said. "I don't think Kai can handle two of you."

Eliot folded his arms. "For the record, I'm not Alex's double. If anything he's my double. I'm older."

"By eight minutes," Alex snapped.

"That's older."

Alex huffed a wordless reply, and Eliot felt a glow of something familiar in his chest. This was an argument they'd had hundreds of times—Eliot, being the oldest, started it most often when they were kids. Jake had come next, and then Alex—Baby Alex, they called him, whenever he was being annoying. Eliot was pleased to find the joke still funny.

Even better, Alex seemed to still find it annoying. Eliot couldn't say why that felt so comforting. Maybe it was just that he was thankful to see a glimpse of the old Alex, the one he'd known before they let their father and their pride get in the way of their relationship. Maybe it was the fact that Alex was relaxed enough to have this conversation in front of Ernesto. Maybe Alex had found a team the way Eliot had.

Maybe it was a good thing he'd come here after all.

[sly-merlin]

KILLING ME - 12 |n.y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre :    angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au.

warnings of this chapter : mentions of blood and brutality. For future chapters, major character death(s).

words : 

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”                                  

or              

“  curiousity got the cat hitched”

K.M masterlist

A/n : this was supposed to be a longer chapter. The Tumblr was bring problematic since three days. This is not how the chapter was supposed to end but i couldn't post anything longer than this so i had to make changes to end it on a surprise tone like other chapters. I hope you still enjoy it.

Was he asking for too much?

His unsteady hand rose and fell, internal monologue stopping him from knocking on the door. Johnny wasn't sure how he even ended up outside taeyong's door. One second he was fighting with his thoughts and the next second he found himself jumping out of his car, almost ready to confront the person behind the door. 

He took a deep breath and was about to drum the wood when the door opened from inside, taeyong's sleepy figure greeting him instantly.

"John. Why are you here so late? Do you need something?"  from red pressed strikes on taeyong’s face, anyone would have guessed that he had been sleeping.

“Johnny! I’m talking to you.” he waved his hand in front of johnny’s distracted eyes.

“Huh” 

“Do you want something?”

“y/n.”

Your life was back on the wagon. Not truly but with a few exceptions here and there, it certainly felt like the old days. You were in chois on weekdays and took tuitions on the weekends. You met your friends while visiting the library and everything felt quite normal. Even with a few oddities, that being the five day training sessions with Jungwoo, some new people in your life, a residence that you felt happy coming back to, absence of someone that you’d never grown a liking for, everything was smooth. Just like before. The only thing you missed was some time. Time for yourself. Though you lived alone, which was a luxury nearing its end, you barely got a few minutes alone with your mind and that was something you craved more than the drink shoved in your hand at the moment. 

You loved your friends, without any doubt, but they lived with the bad habit of disregarding your feelings, feelings that said you would be anywhere but the restaurant you were sitting in. 

“y/n is going into hibernation again.” minjun’s voice broke your trance.

“What did you say?" You challenged him but he cowered in his seat and turned his focus on the soggy french fries instead. When he silenced, yugyeom spoke up, 

“Yo y/n. Don’t scare the child. Just drink away your sorrows. The wine is quite expensive here. If you are making me pay then at least make it worth it."

Suddenly, Jungkook's loud snorting caught everyone's attention as they all quietened, waiting for him to reveal the reasons for his action. Swirling his burgundy glass, he chugged the last bit of the drink before leaning backwards in his chair, relaxing himself.

"Now what's the drama with You" Yeong grumbled, clearly intoxicated. 

"She's already hammered" minjun giggled. 

"When are you going to invite us to your house y/n?" Jungkook chimed in, a smirk plastered on his blushed face. 

"Oh yes. Ms. Lawyer no more l-lives i-in the d-dorms." Yeong hiccupped, losing the grip on the bottle of soju. Yugyeom chuckled at her antics before snatching the bottle away to avoid any fuss.

"I also meant to ask you but you are never available for more than an hour or so. Are you doing alright" gyeom shifted his chair towards you while keeping a hand on his girlfriend's back.

You didn't know how to reply or what to trump up so they'd stop pestering you. However, you had no other choice than to continue with the streak you had started a few months ago.

"Of course i want to have you there but my roommate is very, how to explain, very bitchy. He got this corporate job and he-he works from home so I'm supposed to pretend like I do not exist and keep quiet. That includes no outsiders as well. It's gonna be like this for a few months i guess"

You mumbled the last part.

 You averted your eyes but didn't mean you could've escaped their intense judgemental gaze. You repeated the whole lie that you recited to arrange it in the box of deceit that you were filling since the commencement of these stories. Forgetting any of these would mean shattering their trust. And that was exactly what you were supposed to protect.

Once reiterated, you gathered how foolish the sentence was. Had it been said to you, there wasn't a chance of putting your belief in it. But your company was drunk enough to believe it; two of them were enough to carry the whole table.

"Wow. How horrible of him. We should take y/n with us yugy. She'd be happy and she can invite anyone." Yeong low-key let out a little drunk growl to press her point. 

Yugyeom cooed at her before replying,

"And where will you live? Our apartment has only two rooms and both are occupied. Where do you plan to settle down instead?"

His question made her think harder than she ever had in life as she picked at her jutted out lower lip. 

"Laundry room. You and me, will live in the laundry room because y/n needs a nice home."

"I already have a nice home yeongie." You took the opportunity, got up and reached out to pinch her cheeks, "but you won't know unless you are sober. Take her home, yugy. I'm also sleepy so I'll get going. See you on Tuesday." 

" It's already 11. Let me drop you home." Jungkook suggested, startling you.

"No It-

"Yeah you drop her. I'll take Yeong and minjun home but help me in carrying their asses to the car please." Yugyeom pleaded. He left the bills on the table and took Yeong in his arms. You expected jungkook to do the same but he passed minjun your shoulders instead,

"Wait for me outside. I have to call someone first." and he walked away, his lover grinning on your shoulder like it was the funniest thing in the world but you were fine as long as their drunken state saved you from some heavy confrontation. The only person left was jungkook and you had the perfect idea to dodge him as well. 

"So the same place or are you staying in the dorms this weekend?" He asked, driving out of the busy street.

"Just drop me at the nearest bus station. I'll ta-

"Nakamoto residence or the dorms y/n" you almost choked on the air as the word left his lips. Taking a bus home had seemed like the perfect plan but you had overvalued your common sense. Again.

"What are you talking about?" With hesitation evident in your voice, you muttered.

"Do you really think you'd go to a random house in front of me that I know nothing about and you'd be left alone without questions. I was there until the door was opened by someone. You really thought I'd have left you with a stranger. But i knew something was fishy when the receptionist told me that it's a home sweet home of Mr and Mrs nakamoto. Now spill before I get yugyeom to ask in his own way." He shifted the gears in frustration, your relaxed persona bothering him to no end. Getting jungkook wokred up wasn't a grunt work. He was like a matchstick, always ready to be ignited by any possible frictional surface. 

"It's not what you are thin-

"Don't lie please," he started, words dangerously polite, "If he's your boyfriend then there's no need to hide y/n. We would always be there to support you. When, how, why, i don't want you to feel pressured to answer me. Just because you go around with no commitment tag doesn't mean we'd judge you if you ever got in a relationship. We love you. Make us part of your life like we do. Can't we just expect that much." 

You gulped at how disappointed he sounded. He was right. You needed to include them in your life adventures but how were you supposed to explain him the riots you were dealing with. How were you supposed to spill everything without him getting his sword out. That would only lead to more troubles than you had the power to deal with. Trouble for you, him and for everyone who'd be passed that secrecy. 

So you begged, for some more time until you'd be more than comfortable to let all of them into your present life. 

Like every other word, this was also a lie that, in the first place,  you never chose to proceed with. 

He might have give in to you, but you knew eventually you'd have to muster up the courage to answer him and that day would decide another turn of your future. 

And you would make sure, inter alia, to shift the wheels in a more likeable direction.

“Use your fists!” 

Jungwoo’s grip was strong. His one arm was holding your waist and the other was around your neck. It was painful but you knew he wasn’t going to let go easily this time. This was the third consecutive scuffle or demo fight with him within the span of the last forty five minutes and having lost the last two, awfully at that, expectation of some mercy was not very demanding on your part. But only if he would grant that! You heard his chuckle as you wriggled in his hold. He was clearly having a lot more fun than you were. There was no way you could’ve applied renjun and hyuck’s advice but you still tried to follow their vague instructions.

“Bit his arm and turn.”

“No, don’t. Turn around and hit his torso with your knees.” 

Bit him?

Halting your movements, a low grunt left your lips as you lowered your body and pressed your teeth on his flesh. He screeched and immediately retracted his arm. Taking advantage of his loosened grip on your waist, you whirled around and raised your knee to strike at his upper body. In an instant, your hands fell on your knees and you inhaled a harsh breath, regaining your strength. Jungwoo, on the other hand, was curled up on the floor like a baby. You wanted to laugh at him but the more astonishing thing was the lack of any noise from your cheerleaders. Right from the start, they were rooting for you like you were earning them some hard cash and now that you had done exactly what they had wanted, they were silent. 

“Wha-

you opened your mouth to speak but their lack of attention held you back. Their eyes were fixed at Jungwoo,who still laid where he had landed. 

“What did you do?” renjun shrieked.

“Exactly what you told me to!” you replied with heavy breathing.

“We said torso!”

“Yes and i hi-

Mechanically your hand slapped your face as you noticed the position of jungwoo’s hands. You had, mistakenly, kicked him in the groin which only meant more trouble for you. 

“Save me.” you mouthed to hyuck and renjun while approaching jungwoo. 

“Sorry teacher.” you mumbled.

He remained quiet for a few seconds and didn’t make any movement. When he did, you took a few steps back, afraid of his wrath. Palms down on the mat, he sat up and with painfully quiet voice spoke up,

“Looks like you won. Good j-job. I think i need to visit the medical room. You can go and celebrate.”

“Does it pain too much” pointing to his crotch and averting your eyes, you asked.

“No. not at all but i might need to adopt your kids someday. You know if i can’t make my own.” 

“Sorry” you cried.

“Dismissed.” his civil tone, probably due to the ache, glued you in the position.

When you didn't move, donghyuck came, took you by your arm and guided you for the door.

"He's just being dramatic. Just chill. Another hit and he'd be good to go." He giggled and was soon joined by renjun as well, who was now crouching down in front of jungwoo. 

"You sure?"

"If he doesn't then you can always give him your baby. Ofcourse after asking your husband." Only after he rambled, he realised what he had actually said. His face screamed surprise. To save him from spiralling into deep shame, you eased him by cutting off his apology,

"Ew hyuck. Give him one of yours if you want. Don't come for mine!" And you exited the door.

You were halfway through the basement when you realised the lack of your device. Running back, you were about to shout when you overheard their gossip.

"No, I'm telling you she meant to injure me so i won't teach her anymore or this might be the revenge of all the weapon training. Her knee is stronger than jeno's punch. Don't laugh at me you shits."

Jungwoo was whining. 

"Haha. Yeah ok. But i told you renjun, she's physically stronger than her. Kind of totally opposite." Hyuck's voice quietened at the end but before he could speak further, you interrupted,

"Like who hyuck?"

Their faces went blank at your question and the reason of sudden heaviness in the air was beyond your contemplation. 

"You don't want to answer? Fine. Maybe it's not my place to question." You simply stated before circling the mat to pick up your phone from the chair.

"No. It's not li-

"It's fine hyuck. Chill." You shrugged and walked away, deciding against pestering them for information that they clearly felt too uncomfortable to share. 

"You need a fucking lock on your bloody mouth." was the last thing you heard before they were out of your hearing.

What was the need to ask something when you knew you won't ever get an answer out of them. Everyone was beyond friendly with you but still, there were some borders that nobody dared to cross. Maybe the mention of that woman was one of them. Fear of some unknown ghost of embarrassment was swallowing you whole when you heard grunts. Loud ones. You were still in the basement, the scuffle center being at the far end. The stairs were in front of you. The  snarls and growls were coming from the other end of the basement. The election wasn't hard and you didn't want to give in to your curiosity but you did. Your feet, not cooperating with the voice in the back of your head that told you to turn away, took you ahead in the direction of the noise. Though the residence consisted of only one plot but the basement covered two. Unknown to everyone, the house next to B.N was also their property and it was only utilised for the underground space. Hence the never ending lane and the countless closed metal doors.

The echo got louder with each step you took. It’s been more than a month since you were visiting the basement but those noises had never crossed through you until today. The end doors were forbidden for you, according to what you were told but now that you were exposed to it, there was no chance of ignoring. No prudent person would ever overlook such a thing. That was the justification you were repeating as you took baby steps.

All the doors were closed except one at the very far end. You thought about peaking inside then halted as if your conscious called you. The whimpers also stopped for a minute or so but your heart skipped a few beats when a collision following with painful shriek reverberated in the empty space. The door, slightly ajar, was just a few strides away but you were too startled to even back away from your position. Same pattern of hit and shouts continued again. Unaware of the happenings, you stood there as If you were waiting for someone to separate you from the concrete beneath your feet.

Adding to your distress, the metal door opened abruptly and you realised, you were again at a place where you weren't meant to be.

"What are you doing here?" Jaehyun's growl broke you out of the unconscious state you had fell into. Mechanically, you eyes roamed across him to notice a body lying on the table inside the room, strained cries escaping his lips. The limp body was enough to put two and two together to conclude that he was being tortured. He was a victim of jaehyun's wrath. 

"I asked what ar-

"Y/N!" he picked up his hand to touch your shoulders but you distanced yourself when you noticed the stains covering his clothing and hands, the blood red prominently visible even under the low light. 

His gaze caught yours in time and his eyes softened noticing the fear in your body. 

Very slowly, he reached out for you but immediately stopped, taking a note of your quivering lip.

"Hey. It-its not blood. I ca-can explai- Y/N!" 

The yells of your name covered the whole arena as you rushed away, leaving a dazed jaehyun behind.

"Who was it jae?" 

Jaehyun saw your trembling figure diminishing while you ran away from him as if you were disgusted by him. Not that he expected any other reaction, some good time has passed since someone innocent had came across their work. To say the least, it was never pleasant to have someone witness their harsh manners.

"JAE!"

"Y/n. She saw the body and also the blood."

He mumbled to ten whose visage, upon hearing, instantly mirrored jaehyun's.

"What about him?" Ten pointed to the man, "he's not speaking shit"

"Finish him off if you want. I need to handle something else now"

You raced as fast as you could have. You had never thought of yourself as a weak person but the sight was gruesome to just disregard and walk off. With shaking legs, you finally made it upstairs but the ringing, only became more earsplitting. Your hand harshly rubbed at your chest as you tried to defuse the tension bubbling in your whole body. After what felt like minutes, you covered your ears as if it would stop the ringing. It certainly did not but surprisingly it was muffled. You removed your hands and the blaring returned again. But this time, you laboured yourself to look into your surroundings. You saw chenle, jisung, jaemin running back and forth from the kitchen while doyoung seemed to be scolding jeno for something. Few others were also there, cleaning the couches and spraying some fragrance in the air. Everyone seemed to be their own turmoil, origin was which was yet to be known.

That's when it hit you. Maybe your ears weren't booming due to fright. 

"Chenle"you screamed at the passing boy, "do you hear this sound?" You pointed your fingers in the air to exaggerate your point. He merely nodded before he went past you and the very next second the noise was reduced to mere buzzing. You inhaled sharply to regulate your heartbeat but failed due to the ruckus  that enclosed you. Suddenly jaemin emerged, 

"Why are you so disheveled? Go and change from these workout clothes. Uncle is outside. Didn't you hear the alarm." Only Half of his words entered your head and before you could come to your senses, you were interrupted again.

"Y/n my girl!" Whipping your head, you saw a familiar figure entering the threshold. 

An old man that you surely had seen somewhere. 

His voice was a lot stronger than his aged body which he was dragging along with the help of a walking stick. 

Jaemin nudged you to greet him and you complied as soon as could have in your current state. Only when you got closer, you realised he was the same man you had met in the office celebration. You haven't seen him since then but he looked significantly weaker than before. Even with dark circles present, his face still was still shining with the smile he wore as he staggered inside. 

"How's life treating you my kid" he asked, patting the empty space on the couch. You took the seat and replied in a small voice,

"I'm good. Everything is nice." 

"Why am I smelling Jasmines this late in the evening?" He sniffed the air and galred at doyoung, " Do you take me for a fool? One thing! Cleaning. that is the only thing i ask of you. There are- how many of you are present since the morning. Answer me doyoung." 

The man barked and doyoung muttered a sheepish apology, his head dropping with shame. 

"Each one of you is nonsense. If you'd just clean up your stink once in a while, you'd save your money on the thousands of spray bottles you buy every month. But you thick heads only know how to shoot and punch. Now get me a glass of water before i die of this fake flowery smell"

He shouted like he owned the place and Maybe he did. Your mind and heart were not aligned up to comprehend the simple scenario that took place before you, the dizziness coming and going with intervals.

Then you were called again. 

Looking at your right, your saw jaehyun standing, his face ridden of any colour.

You noticed his new shirt. There was no blood on it. His hands were also cleaned and you were stunned at how quickly your eyes were running on his body to find any trace of what you saw in the basement a few minutes ago.

"y/n, i need to talk to you" 

For the first time, jaehyun's words were directed towards you without any poison in them. 

You still didn't wish to face him so you moved yourself to face the old man.

"Y/n ple-

"Now you don't even greet your own father jung jaehyun."

He spoke with a steadier and louder voice that felt like it was only meant for jaehyun. The contrast in his tone was striking. 

He was jaehyun's father.

"Sorry dad. I have something imp-

"I called you in the morning to inform yuta and taeil and yet i do not see anyone here. Do i need to die for you to respect me!"

You couldn't believe your ears when jaehyun answered in shuddering tone. 

"Yu-yuta is not here." 

He sounded like a child responding to his teacher, scared of some evaluation.

"Then call him."

"I mean he's away on business dad."

"Civil?"

It was like hearing Morse code.

"No."

"You sent him on a target place?"

"No. He's in Nice to collect information."

"Wow. Can you please clap your back for breaking the only sacred rule this family lives by?"

The silence in the extremely large living room was suffocating. This time, except you, everyone else was scared. And it still wasn't of any help.

"How dare you send a family man away on anything remotely dangerous. I thought you all were careful after taeil's incident but no. Nobody cares enough t-

Before he could complete, shaky coughs engulfed his body. Somehow, jaehyun grabbed him the moment he was about to fall from the couch. Doyoung ran for the kitchen while xiaojun, who was always too swift in his movements, came to the living room with a medical box.

You weren't sure what was happening with him or why he was being treated like some high mighty force or why he was so adamant on bringing yuta back but you could only pray that his wish won't be granted.

You weren't cruel but you were sure he'd be able to survive without that piece of shit roaming around.

You couldn't lose the few weeks you had without him.

Taeyong hands clutched yours like his life depended on you.

"Please please please y/n. It's been over a month since he's gone. I never withdraw from a deal. But this is an emergency. Uncle doesn't know you both were forced. He is a soft and weak hearted man. We cannot afford to tell him anything like this and clearly this would be seen as a betrayal to him. You both are nothing like what he's told but he doesn't need to need. He's the only father figure we have. Please just this time. I promise I won't ask anything from you after this. You do not need to live with him. he'd be here until two months are over. Please."

You lifted your brow at his last sentence and liberated your hands from his, feeling his trembling fingers. 

"I don't see the need to lie anymore, taeyong. You can tell him the truth and be over with it. If he has jaehyun as a son, he must be used to hearing blatant lies. This won't be the only one, I'm sure of that." Crossing your arms, you coldly said.

"I know you hate me but please y/n. You know how it is to lose the only family member you have. We have no one besides him. Never had anyone before him. The least we can do is keep him happy until it's too late. Please. Just this time."

Gobbling down each word, you merely nodded at him. If it weren't for his glossy eyes, you'd have threw up on him right after the first pleading but you weren't heartless like him. He was right. You knew how it felt to lose your loved ones, a fate you would never wish upon anyone. Not even the person you despised the most.

"Thank you. I owe you this one kiddo." He hugged you and you pushed him away. 

"Let me call him."

"Yuta!"

"Hmm"

"You need to come back immediately "

Taeyong spoke with urgency.

"Nope. I still have Three weeks and two days left." You heard his non-chalant words through the speaker.

"Yuta it's abou-

"Sorry I'm busy with my french girls. Call you later and please forget to take care of yourself."

And he hung up. 

A smirk formed on your face watching the grim expressions of taeyong.

"Good luck convincing him and while you are going to explain him the difference between the French girls and the French monkeys he has mistaken as women, why don't you explain me what exactly jaehyun does in that other end of the basement. I love some good stories, taeyong. So let's hear how good of a storyteller are you!"

taglist :: @kpop-choco @moon-yuta @kawaiiayasan @btm-taeyong @exfolitae @lanadreamie @cheersskznct @hyuckiesgf @theworld-accordingtocasey  @yiyi4657 @sorrywonwoo @sillywinnergladiator @minejungwoo @leesalts  @mal-nakamoto23 @ro2424 @itlittlefangirl @nctzens-world @bl--ankhaeji @simplybree @ncttboo @jeaneteflo @nuoyii @/bralessmermaid

[dancingthesambaa]

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 3

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black-furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 3: Shadows of the Past

“Mhmmmmm,” Mei's eyes sparkled as she munched on the moon cake on the outdoor patio. “This is the most amazing thing I have ever eaten, I don’t even think the chefs can top this.”

“I seriously have to ask your parents what they do one day,” Macaque said as he ruffled her hair and picked up the empty plates with his hands and used his tail to set down the plate of mooncakes right beside an assortment of origami made by both Macaque and the kids. They were in the shapes of people, a vulture, monkey, jellyfish, rabbit, lion, and other varieties of animals and objects. They had a little too much fun making them all. After he put the dishes in the soap-filled sink he took off his apron and sat down next to MK, who was stuffing his face, “cause there is no way they can have normal jobs to have a chef.”

“I think they dig stuff up,” Mei shrugged her shoulders.

“Archaeologist,” he mused as he snatched up a sugar ring from MK plate, receiving an outraged ‘Hey’ from MK, “Didn’t think they were the down and dirty people, though...” The first time he met them was when Mei wanted to go visit MK at their house for his tenth birthday. Nice people, a bit cutthroat and sharp tongue, but nice people, especially when it comes to the safety of their daughter. “I have been wrong before.”

“It’s nice to hear you admit that,” a deep voice chuckled as both the kids jumped up in fright at the unexpected voice.

“Yeah yeah yeah, can it kitty cat,” Mac grumbled as he took a bite of the sugar ring, then wrinkled his nose at the sweet taste. “Can’t afford Raki to hear that.”

A figure softly leaped down from out of nowhere and by the lanterns' soft glow, they saw that the figure was dressed in an extravagant red robe that had rings of gold displayed all across, but the kids were more focused on the figure being a giant lion demon than anything else.

“I brought Eight Treasure Rice Pudding,” he tempted him as he held up the dessert in one hand and a floating lantern in the other.

“Well then you're more than welcome to join,” the monkey jokes, “Happy New Year kitty.”

“Happy New Year,” he said as he put the tray down and gave a smile as he noticed that Macaque was not alone, “and a Happy New Year to the both of you as well, I’m Ahmed.”

“MK!” The boy greeted him as his eyes went from the figure to the pudding.

“Mei the name and let me say that the pudding smells really good,” she drooled a bit.

“Well I hope it is, here,” he cut a slice for the two of them and sat down on the other side of Mac once the two began to dig in.

“Delicious!” They both said in glee.

“Bottomless pit I swear,” the monkey demon muttered.

“Your food is just that delicious,” Ahmed teased and gave a small nudge to his shoulder.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Mac then took notice of his mane and gave a small eye twitch, “oi when’s the last time you took care of that mane of yours?”

The lion stiffens as he avoided eye contact, “oh not too long ago.”

“How long?”

“I don’t quite remember it could have been-,”

“How. Long.”

“....a few months ago.”

“I swear-what is with you guys and not taking care of your goddamn fur,” Mac grumbled as he forced the lion head to lay down on his lap as he began to fix his fur, “only can count on Bohai to take proper care.”

“But he doesn’t even have any fur,” the demon tried to refute, only to be met with a stink eye.

“And he can still take better care than the rest of you lot.”

“Does this happen a lot?” Mei pointed out the scene and MK nodded.

“Tons, usually it’s with Daiyu since she tends to get blood in her wings, the monkeys, or even me.” He can’t remember the first time he had his hair played with, but once it began it just never stopped. “He said that monkeys tend to the other fur when they care for the other.”

“Ohhh,” then Mei's eyes widened, and had to hold back a large smile as she realized that Macaque had been messing with her hair for the past month. He may be gruff, but he is just one big softy on the inside. Though she couldn’t help but take a longer look at the pair and noticed that the lion's eyes were closed in pure content...like a cat, she couldn’t hold back a giggle.

Ahmed's ears perked up and looked towards her, Mac's eyes didn’t even move from his grooming as he was used to both children's strange outburst, and he saw the young child just eerily smile at him. He decided that it would be better if he just ignored all of that.

Almost an hour later, Mei noticed that a soft glow of light was slowly flying above the forest. “Hey what’s that?”

They all looked in the direction of her pointed finger and it was MK who reacted first.

“Someone released their lantern! Can we do it now!” He eagerly said as he watched many more lights begin to emerge from the treetops.

Mac laughed as he pushed the purring cat off his lap, who didn’t take any offense as he stretched, and grabbed the lanterns, “yeah we can.”

“Yes!” He grabbed his lantern and waited by the edge of the patio with Mei.

“Don’t forget yours as well rocky,” he handed a lantern to the surprised Mei.

She blinked, a bit taken aback by the sudden action, but smiled brightly, “thanks fluffy!”

“Not fluffy,” he muttered as he slapped his tail at the back of the laughing lion's head. The two joined them with their lanterns and at once they all released it in the air as they all joined the small trove of floating lanterns in the air as the light almost illuminated the pink forest in its entirety.

They watched the scene until they could no longer see it anymore and when they thought it was all done they diverted their attention to the first crackle of fireworks and the kids cheered loudly as much more came.

“If I was a snake, where would I be?” MK hummed as he looked through the trees, hoping he didn't run into any creepy crawly spiders, as he tried to find his slithery friend.

The Qilin merely snorted as he laid down against the Yao grass, MK met him one day when he was visiting Whatever. He tried so many times to call him Shui Gui or Kappa, but the webbed spirit would just ignore him, and the horse-like creature trotted from across the lake and up to him, and after a moment of staring, just decided to take a nap next to him. Ever, MK managed to haggle that nickname out of him, once again busted out laughing and left a confused eleven year old.

“They have to be around here somewhere,” he grumbled as he searched further through the woods only to stumble upon an open clearing with an old house in the middle. “Huh, didn’t know anyone lived here.”

He walked closer to the home and he gave a cheerful yell “Hello! Anyone home?!”

No response.

“Doesn’t seem like they're here right now...let’s take a closer look,” he mischievously scurried over to the open window and peeked inside to see that it almost looked like he traveled back to the Tang Dynasty, see he has been paying attention to history, take that Dad.

“I wonder who could live here?” He pondered as he looked through the clean wooden and sun dried brick structure. “It actually looks clean, but everything is just so...well old?”

“What are you doing here kit?” He jumped up at the melodic voice.

“You scared me Ní!” He yelled at the Huli Jing, the brown nine-tailed fox.

“Well everyone needs a good scare every once in a while,” they said with a grin as they walked forward.

“Course I did,” he grumbled as he turned to face the shack, “so do you know whose house this is?”

Sadly, the fox smiled, “just one filled with fond memories kit, now come,” they nudged him away from the old home. “I heard that you were looking for our lost slithery friend of ours.”

“Yeah, they took my fidget spinner after learning that they could spin it on their tail,” he huffed as he once again.

“I presume you mean our Xian,” she hummed as they walked back to the trees.

“Who else?”

“Well there are our many reptilian friends amongst the trees, for all I know you could mean our biggest companion,” they teased.

MK looked at the fox as if they were crazy, “I don’t think that there even is a fidget spinner big enough for her.”

“You never know,” they swished their tails as they made it back to where the Qilin was and they took on a grin, “oh, it seems that we have found them.”

MK's eyes twitched as he saw that the snake was just chilling next to the horned horse beast as they played with the spinner, “Hey!”

All nine snakeheads lift at the voice and with a unison hiss, they promptly slither away with fidget spinner in hand, or rather tail in their case.

“Don’t you dare run! Get back here with that! I need it for class!”The boy yelled as he ran after the Xiangliu with much fervor.

“-but how?!” MK threw his hands in the air, “Monkey King has all these amazing powers, it doesn’t make sense that he can’t use them underwater.

“He is a stone monkey!” Mei pointed out to a section of the book as she leaned against MK’s bed, “stone sink, not float!”

“But he can still transform into all these different animals, can’t he just make himself a fish or something?”

“He is still stone!”

“But he can fly!”

“I don’t know magic,” she was half tempted to throw her book at her friend, she doesn’t have all the answers either.

“Then why can’t he use it underwater then?!” He was then hit by a thrown book as he fell off the bed, “you didn’t have to throw it at me.”

“Well maybe I did,” she crossed her arms and just laid down on top of him, “this is so confusing...maybe we can ask Mac, he knows a thing or two about magic.”

“He does,” the thirteen year old shot straight up, knocking Mei off, but then he slumped down when a thought occurred to him, “but he’s currently helping Ning right now.”

“Ning?” She asked as she sat back up.

“She’s a client,” he added.

“Oohh...I wonder what she’s in for?”

“When she sneezes or burps, she breathes fire,” MK easily answered. He already saw this happen when she first crawled in, she gave a wave to him, but quickly turned away when she sneezed. He is glad that the wood in the house has been enchanted to be fireproof, cause he doubted that there would have been a house standing after that fireball.

“She’s a dragon!” Mei got in his face, if there was one creature she loved it would hand down be the dragons.

“No, just a lizard demon.”

“Well technically dragons are reptiles,” she slumped down, her dreams of seeing the magnificent beast being thoroughly crushed. She then picked up the Journey to the West book and she gave an amused huff as she saw what page it landed on. “I still find it funny that your dad shares the same name as Monkey King rival.”

MK shared her grin, “it is pretty funny, like can you imagine him going toe to toe with the Monkey King.”

Mei’s grin widened, “the same monkey who let me put braids in his fur with ribbons!”

“The one who has a heart attack each time I get a bruise out in the forest,” he joined in.

“Who wears aprons when cooking food!”

“Let the baby monkey cling onto him!”

“He makes medicine for any demon or human that stops by!”

“He uses scented shampoo cause he likes the smell and it makes his fur soft,” the two couldn’t help but roll on the floor laughing.

“Do you want to hear something even more hilarious,” MK grinned.

“What?!” Mei asked after her laughter died down.

“There are some customers who even call him the Six-eared Macaque,” he snorted even louder.

Mei's face completely froze, “Huh?”

“Yeah,” he vigorously nodded, not taking any notice of his friend's change of mood, “I heard them call him with full respect and everything!”

“...what?”

“And what’s even better, he has six ears!”

“What?!” MK jumped up at Mei’s outburst.

“What was that for?!”

“You just told me that he has six ears?!” She began to shake him. “Do you not realize what you just implied?!”

“NoOoOo,” he shakily answered.

Mei then dropped him as she reached back towards the book and flipped through the pages until she found another, “oh my god, how could I have not realized it before!”

“What?” He asked as he managed to sit back up.

“Shadow manipulation, clones, stealthy,” she read out some of the powers, “they both share almost the same abilities! Hell, he even is a black-haired monkey!”

“Fur, but yeah and?” He still didn’t get what she was implying.

“And doesn’t he have super hearing?” She pressed further hoping that her dense friend would get it.

“Yes andddd?” He didn’t.

She pushed the book to his face, “Your Dad is the Six-Eared Macaque from the book!”

“What?! No he isn’t,” he snatched the book from her hands, “I mean it doesn’t make any sense, he may be grumpy, but he is not anything like the one from the story! He is downright mean and cruel!”

“Well, maybe he changed?!” She threw her hands in the air, “it won’t be that big of a stretch, I mean 500 years is a long time.”

“But I have never seen him fight before, not even when Daiyu would plead to him for a spar, he would just roll his eyes.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t fight when you're around,” she threw in her answer.

“But, but, but it just can’t,” MK threw the book away from him, “it just can’t.”

“MK,” Mei worriedly put a hand on his shoulder, “are you okay?”

“Yes-no-I don’t know,” he leaned on the ground with a groan. “He just can’t be the same one from the book okay.”

“Well, why not?”

“He can’t, he can’t because if he is then he has purposefully kept this a secret from me,” he whispered out.

“Then that’s more reason to ask him,” Mei insisted.

“No!” He shot up and grabbed her shoulders, “we can’t!”

“Well why not!”

“It might not even be him!”

“But what if it is?!” She countered back.

“But what if it's not,” he firmly stood his ground.

“And if it is?”

“It’s not!”

“It is!”

“It’s not!”

“It is!”

“It’s not!”

“MK, we have to ask him.”

“Ask me what?” They both scooted back in shock when the said monkey demon walked into the room. “I’m hoping by those reactions that you were just startled and not guilty of doing something you weren’t supposed to.” He decided to check out their yells after he had finished with his patient.

The two shot a look at one another.

“Right?”

“Yeah, nothing bad, nothing and at all,” MK nervously said as he scratched the back of his neck and avoided his golden eyes.

“You know that right there isn’t helping your case,” Mac deadpanned.

“It's just that we have a question,” Mei butted in as she grabbed the tossed book.

“Mei no,” MK tried to stop her, but she was determined to get her answers.

“Are you the same Six-Eared Macaque from the book?!” The pigtailed girl showed him the Journey to the West book up to him.

Macaque stilled at the question for a moment before easing down as he took a look at the book, “Huh, haven’t read this book in a while,” he said noncommittally.

“Well? Are you?!” Mei pushed him for the answer, she was not leaving until she got one.

Even MK was silently watching this whole interaction but didn’t move an inch, because deep down, even he wanted to know.

The monkey demon let out a sigh as he nodded, “yeah, I am.”

It was silent as the two kids took in that information.

MK's mind was racing, he didn’t know what to even think. The cruel demon in the story, the one who constantly attacked innocent people, killed so many, clashed fiercely against the Monkey King, is the same one who found him all those years ago and took care of him. It just doesn’t make any sense!

“Want to talk here or in the living room?” Macaque’s voice pierced through the silence.

It took a moment before MK finally responded, “living room.”

“Alright, I’ll go make some tea. This won’t be an easy talk,” he said as he began to reach out to ruffle his hair only to stop at his child's nervous stare. He puts his hands down and promptly walks out of the room and turns away to the kitchen, while he ignores the tight squeeze in his chest.

“So,” Mac sat down on the opposing chair from the couch that had the two kids on it as the pot of tea and a bowl of peeled mangos sat in the middle of the table, “where do you want me to start?”

“Were you ever gonna tell me?” MK blurred out first as he clenched his fist. “Or was this gonna be kept in the dark.”

“When you turned 18, I was gonna sit down with you and talk about this,” he firmly told his son. “I had no intention in hiding this from you forever.”

MK didn’t reply as he lowered his head.

“The beginning is usually a good place,” Mei tried to joke, but only the demon gave a small smirk as MK stayed silent.

“That’s as good a place as any, well before that book ever took place, before even the thought of the Journey took place, me and Sun Wukong were friends.”

“You were friends?!” This time MK didn’t stay silent as both kids shouted.

“Surprising right,” he mirthlessly chuckled.

“It never said anything like that in the books!” Mei exclaimed as she held up her book.

“Well first that’s a kid-friendly book of the story,” he pointed out the childish cartoon design on the front cover. “Don’t think they want kids reading books about graphic violence, especially with the disembowelment and all types of gore,” he muttered the last part quietly to himself. “And second, not everything you read or hear is correct.”

“Huh?”

“History is told by the victors and survivors, not by those who lie dead,” he softly said.

“Oh,” Mei shuffled at the uncomfortable thought.

“So how did you two meet?” MK prompted.

“When we first met, he looted some food from a shrine and got caught like an idiot, which pissed off the mountain god.”

“He did?!”

“Yeah, this was way before he met Subodhi, the one who taught Wukong about how to take on immortality.” He reminisces back to the scene where he met his first friend.

‘Shit! Shit! Shit!’ Sun Wukong leaped from rock to rock as he tried to get as much distance as he could from him and the deity. He spotted a cluster of rocks that looked like it had some amount of cover as he leaped behind it and waited. “All I wanted was some damn food! How was I supposed to know that it was supposed to go to a God?! It makes no damn sense to just leave food lying out!” He whispered angrily.

“So you're the one who pissed him off,” Wukong managed to suppress a yelp as he noticed that he wasn’t alone in his hiding spot. It was a bit surprising to see that it was a Monkey demon like him, only with black fur and a red scarf hiding the bottom of his face. “One would think that you shouldn’t piss off a deity, but that is just my opinion,” he snarked.

“Well one shouldn’t leave food lying out like an idiot,” he shot back.

“So you decided to steal from a mountain God? Yeah, real smart,” Macaque drawled out. “Usually I steal from fields, but you took the idiot crown today.”

“How was I supposed to know that it was for someone!” He retorted.

“Just by looking at it dumbass, have you never seen a shrine before?”

“What’s a shrine?” He questioned.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he deadpanned. “How can you not know? Were you living under some kind of rock before?”

“No, I was born from one!” He cheekily grinned.

“...I don’t know if you're insane or if that’s just the weirdest thing I heard,” he then froze as he dragged Wukong closer to the rocks.

“Wha-,” he was about to break free but was hushed by his fellow hider.

“Shhh,” he silently pointed to the right of them and after a moment noticed that a shadow was getting larger. Wukong smartly decided, for the first time, to keep his mouth shut.

It was only after the shadow left did the two relax.

“So I guess we’re stuck here for awhile,” the brown-furred monkey sprawled against the rocks and made himself comfortable, “I’m Sun Wukong, but people call me the Monkey King.”

The other monkey let out a burst of laughter at his ridiculous name, “Ha! Yeah, no I’m not calling you that. I’m Liu Er Mihou.”

“Pfft, boring,” he grumbled back as he then got curious, “so why are you hiding behind this rock anyways? You certainly were here long before I was.”

“Well unlike you, I was taking a nice nap before this happened,” he smirked as he leaned back.

“Just napping you say,” his eyes happen to spot a bag filled with different goods and food.

“Well napping after I nicked off some things from the fields and market and unlike you, I didn’t get caught.”

“Would have been helpful, but-,” they were cut off when a huge explosion erupted from underneath them.

“You thought you could run from me you little ape!” The mountain God’s echoey voice boomed out. “I am one with all upon this mountain! Every pebble is my ears! Every rock is my voice! You can-,” he was cut off by a voice angrily yelling at him.

“I’m not an ape!” Wukong screeched as the two of them started to run.

“That’s what you're concerned about?!” Liu Er confusedly asked though it was laced with a twinge of amusement and fear.

“I have a tail!” He emphasized the tail carrying the bag of food. “Obviously not an ape!”

“You can’t run forever little ape,” the voice snarled out with every crushed rock booming behind them.

“You got one more time to call me an ape!” He yelled out as his eye twitched.

“And what are you gonna do about it little. Ape.” The voice mockingly said with a toothy grin.

“That’s it!” The angered monkey stopped in his tracks as he flung the bag over to Macaque, “hold this!” And with that, his eyes started to glow bright yellow as he flung himself at the God.

“What are you doi-,” he cut himself off as he noticed that the impulsive monkey that he was hiding with had suddenly begun to shoot lasers from his eyes. “Huh, maybe there was something about him being born from the stone that was true.”

“GHA stop that!” The Mountain God wheezed out as he was hit by another bludgeoning punch from the mortal monkey.

“Not so tough now are you!” He mocked as he sent a flying kick towards the immortal being, only for him to slink down into the mountain. “Oh now who's the coward! Come out and fight me!”

“This dumbass,” Macaque grumbled as he was half-tempted to just take the bag and run, but even he doubted that he would hold up against the enraged monkey like this. His ears twitched as he heard the lingering God about to move so he yelled to Sun, “you might want to duck, he’s about to strike from the left.”

Sun Wukong heard him and managed to leap high enough to avoid the Mountain God claws, “got you now fucker!” And with a couple of spins, he struck down upon the God and landed a killing blow upon his head. “That’s what you get.”

“Remind me never to piss you off,” Macaque said as he casually walked up next to him, tossed his stolen bag of food, and examined the dead God.

“Thanks!” He cheerfully reverted from his enraged form once he got his food and happily began to chew on an apple as he sat down against the fallen God. “So how did you know that the God was there?” He curiously asked as he took another bite.

Liu Er blinked at the odd scene and let loose a snort as he sat down a little ways away from him. “Well seeing that you managed to kill a God with your bare hands, mine is definitely not weirder than yours,” he said as he pulled down his scarf to reveal his two extra pairs of ears.

“Cool!” Wukong's eyes glisten as he immediately began to touch his ears.

Macaque only flinched for a moment at the unexpected touch, but became a little more at ease when he didn’t feel any sharp pulling or twisting the longer he touched them, but he batted his hand away, “Heard of personal space?”

It was after the two had eaten that Mac decided to speak again, “alright let’s make a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” Wukong hesitantly asked.

“You are shit when it comes down to stealing,” he bluntly told him.

“Rude, fair, but rude.”

“But I can.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“How about we team up for a bit, with your strength and my stealth, I think the two of us make out with a lot more goods than this,” he tossed up their near empty bags.

“Hmmm, I don’t know. How do I know that you can actually steal,” Wukong pointed out, but the six eared monkey smirked.

“Well you haven’t noticed this,” he tossed up the half eaten apple in his other hand.

“Wha-,” his eyes widened as he now noticed that the apple in hand had disappeared in a poof of violet energy. “How did you do that?”

“Misdirection,” he tossed his apple back to him.

Wukong blinked as he caught the apple then a large grin took up his face as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder, “I think that this is the start of a beautiful relationship.”

“And the start of so many headaches,” Mac couldn’t help but grumble out.

“Well you can only blame yourself.”

“I already am.”

“So you two had stuck together from that moment,” MK said as he stayed in his seat with his knees covering his face.

“For all of nine years, until he left to learn under Subodhi, then I was free roaming once more. Though I did learn a few things from Wukong as it made my travels a bit easier,” Mac said as he took a sip from his lukewarm tea.

“And he probably learned a few things from you...like how to steal so many things from the celestial realm,” Mei's eyes widened as the realization hit her. “Now that’s how he managed to do that! You taught him how to steal!”

The simian paused as that hadn’t occurred to him in the slightest, “...to be fair I didn’t teach him shit, he simply watched what I was doing and used it in practice. All the havoc he managed to cause in the celestial realm and below was his reckless ideas, I had nothing to do with that...for the most part.”

“But the Monkey King is an immortal being,” MK interjected, “and you're not...unless.”

“Yeahhh, I’m immortal too,” he sipped his tea at their dumbfounded stares.

“How?!”

“Once again, blame Sun Wukong for that.”

“I’m sorry, run that by me again,” Mac let the book hang freely from his hands as he listened to Wukong.

“You're immortal! You can thank me with words of praise and/or delicious food,” he cheekily grinned at him as he hung upside down from the tree branch above.

The monkey demon had to blink for a moment and take a deep breath before closing his book and putting full attention to his friend, “I’m almost scared to ask how the fuck you managed to pull that off, but also dying to know.”

“Well,” the simian jumped down to the same branch as Macaque, “I was kidnapped by Yama lackeys, which was uncool you know, I earned my immortality fair and square,” he huffed out.

“You got kidnapped by the emissaries of the God of Death...okay that’s kinda funny,” he cracked a grin.

“Well it wasn’t for me,” he crossed his arms, “so I kicked all of their asses and spoke with some old folks, who call themselves the ten kings which is a stupid title itself, to get things straight you know and they tried to do? They tried to pull a fast one on me and say that they meant to take another Sun Wukong, which I call bullshit on. I mean who else is a stone monkey that’s name is Sun Wukong?”

“No one,” Mac snorted as his partner threw his hands in the air.

“Exactly! So they take me to the place where they keep track of the ones dying and we all look around to find where those names happen to be and lo and behold, I found my name and you want to know what I did?”

“You erased your name,” he was getting more and more amused by this, he can only imagine the chaos that must have happened due to Wukong antics.

“I erased my name! And I also decided that I wasn’t gonna be alone in this so I decided to erase some of the other monkeys back at Flower Fruit Mountain and I found your name and I erased that too,” he proudly grinned. “You can’t believe the sheer amount of panic that was on all of their faces when they realized what I did.”

“I really can’t,” he chuckled as he then scooted over and wrapped his arm around his neck in affection, “thanks for immortality I guess, never thought I would ever get anything close to that.”

“Well a little more praise than that would be nice,” he teased as he felt the back of his head get slapped.

“Oh, I’m sorry your royal highness, did that harm your oh so precious fur of yours?” Mac took on a haughty tone, “let me be the first to go to my knees and bow for your kind gesture that you have bestowed upon me.”

“Shut up,” Wukong snorted as he nudged his friend's shoulder.

“You asked for it,” the black furred monkey tone returned to normal as he grabbed his book and began to read it once more. Though he was interrupted by Sun sprawling over his lap all of a sudden, “can I help you?”

“Read to me!” He demanded.

“Don’t you get bored with stuff like this? Actually, I’m surprised you haven’t already left to cause some sort of chaos at this point Sunny?”

“Meh, don’t feel like moving now, so read to me!”

Mac knew that when he got like this there was little to change his mind, so with a mockingly reluctant sigh he said, “As his highness wishes,” and began to continue where he left off. It was during that, when Macaque was lost in the book and Wukong was lost in the soft words, did two tails slowly curl up and intertwine with one another.

“You know, it’s a bit surreal to hear that the Gods are real,” Mei hummed out. “I mean reading about it is one thing, but knowing someone who actually met with a God is another.”

“If you think that’s surreal then that’s nothing compared to actually meeting one,” Mac pointed to her.

“Trueeee.”

“So what happened next?” MK spoke up as he managed to get out of his curled up position halfway through the story and was instead leaning in close.

“Well you know what happens next, he gets a position in the heavens, his infamous havoc in heaven, left the heavens, fought some gods, got tricked by Buddha and he had the mountain pin him down for 500 years or so,” he casually said.

“Only you would manage to screw it up big time huh peaches,” Liu Er said as he jumped off the top of the mountain and back down next to his friend. “I mean, what were you thinking?”

“Heyyy mango,” Wukong nervously chuckled, “I might have pissed off all the gods in the heavens, you know how it goes.”

“Yeah I heard, but how did they do this,” he gestured to the entire mountain.

“Well, that was maybe...Buddha,” he softly said the last part, but Macaque didn’t have six ears for nothing.

“You managed to piss off Buddha themself,” he said incredulously. “How in the fuck?!”

“I didn’t piss him off!” He said in defense, “I just maybe lost a bet with him.”

“You lost a bet with Buddha.”

“Look, it's complicated!” He huffed as he tried to wiggle under the mountain, “look there’s a seal on the top of this mountain, if you can just rip it off I can easily-,”

“Already tried that,” he showed him his blackened fingers, “didn’t quite work for me.”

“Well shit there goes that idea,” he muttered as a horrible thought occurred to him, “Flower Fruit mountain! The tribe-you have to-,” he was cut off once again.

“Already have a few clones stationed there since you got that position in heaven dumbass,” he whacked his head, “you don’t have to worry about them, now let’s think of a way to free you.”

Wukong let out a breath of relief as he lay his head against the ground. “It ain’t gonna be easy you know.”

Macaque grinned cheekily at him as he sat down next to him and his dark purple daxiushan flared out underneath him, “who said it ever was,” he joked as he began to groom his friend's fur.

“Might have to go against the Gods,” he said as he relaxed to the grooming.

“You can’t have all the fun,” he retorted back.

The Monkey King merely hummed as the grooming went, they can discuss more later, but he sorely needed this.

“But you didn’t free him,” Mei quietly pointed out.

“No, I didn’t,” he shook his head as his tail silently swooshed behind him.

“But you did something,” MK noticed that something was amiss by his relaxed position as he ate a peeled mango.

“Welll, let’s just say that there was a reason why Guanyin happened to find Wukong.”

“You tricked Guanyin,” Mei deadpanned.

“I wouldn’t say trick, more like a gust of wind in the right direction,” he knew that he teetered along the line when he subtly diverted the God's attention to his friend. He heard through some of his contacts that they were looking for immortals for the Journey, so he managed to arrange some coincidental happenings that maybe got the Goddess of mercy to float in Wukong’s direction.

“You tricked Guanyin,” Mei still bluntly told him.

“Anyways,” Macaque ignored Mei as he picked up his empty cup, “then you all know the rest, Wukong infamous Journey to the West and all that.”

“But that doesn’t explain how you went from friends to enemies in the book,” MK pressed and watched as his father's shoulder slightly slumped.

“I-,” he looked down to his empty cup and sighed, “I was an idiot, I-I thought he was being tortu-something cruel was being done to him. When Tripitaka used that sutra, I thought they had managed to enslave my friend and harm him,” he gripped his cup before setting it down, he refused to dive further in that memory. “Clearly I was wrong and you know how that went down.”

The two once again became silent as they took in the information.

“Okay, okay,” Mei nodded as she crossed her legs, “but here’s what’s confusing me. In the Journey to the West, it told you were ruthless, but I know that in some other books it is said that you are a minor deity of trickery and medicine and that you would help wandering travelers by giving them medicine and give them protection by tricking the bandits and Gods. So what is that about?”

“Okay that minor deity thing is just not true,” Mac pinched his nose, “I still don’t know who even put that down in the first place.”

“How did you change?” MK added as well.

“Well,” he let out a soft smile, “I met someone.”

“Ooooo,” the two couldn’t help themselves.

“No,” he firmly told them, “No. No-fuck no. Hell no. Hell to the no. By all the Gods-no just no,” he shuddered. “It’s not anything like that at all.”

“Who was it?” MK asked.

“It was a weird man named Ping who found me on the side of the road somehow and decided to just drag my body to his house,” he snorted at their confused faces. “Yeah, that was me when I first awoke.”

Macaque groggily came to as he heard the faint sound of clinking metals coming a little ways away from him, but as he got up a sharp pain emerged from his entire body as he fell back to the bed.

“Shit, what the hell knocked me ou-...oh,” his memories came back to him in a rush as he remembered just who exactly did this to him. “Fuck, but why? Why, why why!” He gripped his fur and then his right eye as he noticed that there was a distinct lack of sight from that one, “it doesn’t make sense! Why the fuck would he, just why?!”

“So you're finally awake,” he had to freeze as for the first time in a long while, he was snuck up on, “you were knocked out for quite some time.” The monkey turned to see a graying middle aged man wipe his hands on the cloth.

“Who are you,” he went on the immediate defense. He doesn’t sense any celestial or demonic aura coming from him, but he knows it better wary than dead.

“People call me Ping,” he gave a small bow to him, “it’s nice to see you awake.”

“...Are you blind by any chance,” Macaque couldn’t help but blurt out. “Cause there's no way in hell would someone be happy on seeing a demon alive unless they were a goddamn monk…” he couldn’t help but narrow his eyes.

“Ohoho, believe me, I am no Monk,” the man chuckled as he began to pick up some materials from the side, “I have very little patience for just sitting around and meditating all day.”

“Can’t front ya there,” he grumbled as he tried to get back up only for him to wheeze in pain and cough viciously.

“Here, this will help your throat,” Ping handed him a steaming cup of tea that was next to a brown rabbit, which was a bit strange as he didn’t even notice it before.

The monkey hesitantly accepts it, he was unsure if the tea had poison in it, but decided that the human literally could have left him on the side of the road to die and spare him the troubles of killing him himself, so he took a sip of the tea and his nose scrunched up, “why is it sweet?”

“Not to your liking,” he chuckled as he sipped on his own cup.

“You know people-humans are usually terrified when encountering a demon,” he deadpanned as he realized that not only was he half clothed, but his six ears were out in the open. “Just saying.”

“And usually, most demons would have tried to take a bite out of me,” he retorted

“And that is usually enough to not even get close to one of us, let alone bring one to your home,” he emphasized.

“Well we're all a little bit crazy in this world,” Ping chortled as he ambled off to the other room. “You can leave when you want to!”

Macaque could only watch dumbfounded at what just took place as he loosely cradled the teacup in his hand. Though he could do without the rabbit gaze boring into him.

“So what happened next,” MK asked.

“I left,” he shrugged his shoulders.

“You just left?!” Mei shouted as she squished the fruit in her hand.

“Yep.”

“Why?!”

“I had no reason to stay with a man who just up and saved me for no reason, especially one who was so confident in his capabilities that I wasn’t going to attack him,” he pointed out.

“So where did you go?” MK asked next.

“A little bit of everywhere,” he lied a little, he may be spilling his secrets, but even he has a hard stop on some of his more personal ones. He was not about to tell them that he essentially stalked Wukong and his friends for a good portion of the Journey. “But, for some damn reason, I went back to Ping.”

“You went back?” Mei said as MK asked, “Why?”

“Curiosity? Boredom? I honestly still don’t know,” he sighed and leaned back in his chair. “But I just kept going back every few months and the strangest thing is, he would just give a slight wave and give me some tea. Each and every time, until eventually I stayed a bit longer.”

Macaque watched in interest as Ping began to crush some herbs together and mix them. He knows some of those plants and they tasted downright horrible. “What’s the point of making that? It doesn’t taste any good with food, old man.”

Ping simply chuckled as his rabbit laid silently to the side, “I'm not that old, unlike you. It helps with backaches, I know many of the elderly will need it in the coming winter, so it’s always good to prepare ahead.”

“Oohhh, that’s medicine,” Mac hummed. He hasn't seen much of it since he was able to heal fairly fast and also that usually medicine is one of the hardest items to steal due to it usually being hidden or secured.

“Would you like a closer look?” The graying man asked as he stepped a little to the side.

“Sure, why not,” he shrugged his shoulders as he watched with rapt attention to how the medicine was being made.

“He must have a lot of patience to be able to teach you,” Mei grinned.

The monkey huffed in amusement, “I honestly thought the same thing.”

“But how was he different?” MK hesitantly asked as all he heard was of Ping doing completely normal things. “How did he get you to...well change?”

“Does it matter that he was supposed to be some amazing being with special abilities,” he gave a small smirk.

“Well no,” he deflated a bit.

“Cause let me tell you that Ping was one of the farthest things to have anything godly about him. The only thing special about him was his strange ability to practically befriend anyone that passed him and that was it. He never went on any magical adventure, wasn’t appointed a great duty by a God, hell the man has never taken a single martial art or learned under any great sage before,” he couldn’t hold back laugh at their confused looks. “He never tried to force me to change into what he believed to be good.”

“Then why did you keep going back?” Mei jumped off the couch and leaned over the table. “If he didn’t have anything mystical about him, why did you keep going back?”

“Have you ever heard the age-old question on if you can teach a monster how to love?” He suddenly asks, throwing them all off guard.

“No?”

“Cause the answer is no, but rather you have to show them,” he smiled fondly.

“...what does that have to do with this?” MK whispered out.

“He may not have any special abilities, but there was something about him, something- I can’t say good because it’s not strictly subjective in that, but just something comforting about him. About the way he wouldn’t bat an eye at my appearance, the way he would simply give me a cup of tea, the way he would let me stay when I had my bad days, just the way he was just was comforting,” he breathed in as he unhooked his fingers that he unconsciously grabbed together. “He was just Ping and that was enough for a monster to change.”

“You're not-/Don’t believe-,” he cut off both kids.

“I know I did...horrible things in the past, things can’t be redeemable no matter how many times I may help those, I couldn’t forgive myself, but he showed me that I could.

“How?”

“I planted a seed.”

“What?”

“Oh yeah, I was just as confused as you guys were too,” he smiled as he leaned back. “He straight up told me to plant a seed each time my anger or frustration overwhelmed me.” He threw his hands in the air, “I didn’t know what he meant, by the Gods know how many of those things I planted even long after he passed.”

“So he did pass away,” Mei said underneath her breath.

“Humans tend to do that, especially with one as old as him,” he said with a small smile.

“You still kept planting,” MK huddled together as he wrapped his arms around his knees.

“...Yeah,” he wrapped his tail around his waist in comfort, “I didn’t know what else to do and I know I raged and cried, but I couldn’t just go down to Yama and demand his soul back or up to the heavens and just steal a peach. Not even the drunk old man could change fate,” he whispered that last part quietly. “I’m not that strong, so I did the only thing I could and just planted the seeds and plant and plant until one day I was interrupted.

“I’m terribly sorry to bother you, but did you happen to grow these yourself?” The woman asked as she carried her child upon her back.

“Yeah, and?” He didn’t feel in the mood to even attempt to snark back against a human as he tended to some of the flowers.

“Well let me tell you that they're simply beautiful,” she smiled at him.

“Huh?” Mac froze at the sudden compliment.

“Yeah!” He looked down to see a young girl with a wide smile, “they are super pretty.”

“Very pretty,” another child shyly piped up as he peeled from behind his mother's skirt.

The monkey demon could faintly remember their goodbyes as they proceeded to walk away from him. “What beauty is there in a bunch of seeds?” He turned to look at his plants and for the first time, he realized that they haven’t been seeds in a very long time as they sprouted into a giant, pink, flourishing Plum Blossom trees-no not trees a blossoming forest.

“Oh.” He then decided to slowly walk through it all as he plunked a plum from one of the branches. “Damn, I must have been really out of it for so many years that I didn’t even realize that it...that it grew…during all these years it grew and grew into something beautiful.” He paused as he now realized what Ping was trying to show him for all these years, that even when he got angry and made so many mistakes, they can turn into something beautiful. He let out a full body laugh as he just screeched and screeched.

“Only you, you fucking coot! Only you would think of such a weird ass idea and actually be of help, I swear if you weren’t already dead I would be yelling at you for this!” He screeches as tears or amusement and anguish filled his eyes, “you made me plant a forest of mistakes and did a fuck you and made it something worthwhile, something beautiful!”

He eventually laid down with plum in hand, ears out as he listened to the chirps of the bird and rustles of the leaves and his heart didn’t feel as empty as before. “Couldn’t have told me straight out his thoughts,” he huffed with a watery smile as he took a bite out of the plum.

“You made this forest-the Plum Blossom forest?!” MK asks shockingly despite listening to the story.

“A good portion of it, yes, the rest done simply by Hòutû herself.”

“So what happened next?” Mei said as she kneeled and put her elbows on the table.

“Life happened and time slowly crawled forward and I slowly began to change and probably still will,” he shrugged his shoulders.

MK fidgeted in his seat before finally speaking up again, “so...what happens now.”

“That’s for you two to decide,” he stood up and stretched, “You're the only ones who can decide for yourself.” He picked up the empty plates and cup, “Take as much time as you need kiddos,” he began to walk away with a heavy heart.

He knew that he couldn’t force their minds into completely accepting him, but he prays, one of the very few times he does, that he didn’t fuck two of the few good things he had. He can accept that they may not forgive him, but he damn hopes that there is still a sliver of affection-he stiffen as he felt two pairs of arms hug tightly around his waist. “Wha-?”

“You can’t get rid of us that easily Goldilocks,” Mei smiled as she cuddled her face in his soft fur, “No amount of scares can force us away from you.”

“Mei-,”

“At first I was angry,” he heard his son's voice even when it was muffled against his fur. “You kept secrets and I didn’t like that, but you told me and I was so confused, still am, but you aren’t the same mean monkey in the past, I don’t think you would have saved me if you were the same as your past self and I am happy about that. I am happy that I know you now, because I may have not liked you and if I didn’t like you then I would have never stayed with you and I really don’t like that,” MK looked up at him with tears in his eyes as he hugged him tighter. “I really don't like the idea of never being here, being with you Dad, so thank you for being you, thank you and I love you so much.”

Liu Er barely had the forethought to place the dishes down before wrapping his arms around them both with a tight grip. “Well I guess you're stuck with me.”

“Like old gum stuck in your fur,” MK squeezed out through the fur.

“I swear you spend way too much time with Minsheng…love you too Starlight,” he huffed as he ruffled his child's hair.

“And besides,” Mei started, “you may be a grump but you're our grumpy monkey demon now. And if anyone tries to say otherwise then I would need to have a few words with them,” she ended with a wide creepy smile on her face as her eyes promised vengeance.

“I’ll direct them towards you little newt,” he chuckled as he also messed with her hair as well and gave them both a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“Fuzz butt,” she shot back then got a gleam in her eyes, “a fuzz butt who can teach us how to fight.”

“No.”

“I’ll wear you down eventually,” she grinned, “sooo can we see what you really look like?” MK’s head shot up at that and shared the same gleam as well.

“Nosy, all of you,” he said as he gently pried them off of him, and in barely a flicker, he had transformed and he looked more...dangerous. His nails and teeth have become sharper, a few scars were more visible upon his hands and feet, the scar on his right eye was very prominent as it displayed a dull yellow pupil, even his ears seemed to add to his threatening appearance as the middle violet ear on the right was missing a portion of the upper cartilage.

“You look badass/So Cool!” Though he didn’t have to worry about scaring those two off as their eyes sparkled at his appearance and rushed to touch his fur as MK happily exclaimed as he put his face on his fluffy chest, “why does your fur feel even softer than before?!”

Macaque snorted loudly as he sat down on the floor and let them have a better reach, “shouldn’t even be surprised that was what you took away from this.”

“Seriously, now it looks like you actually know how to fight,” Mei ‘ooed’ as she felt some of his scars underneath his fur. “How’d this one happen,” she felt a faint scar right above the left shoulder.

“Well let me tell you that it all began by a river and I just found out that a certain monkey can’t fight underwater,” the two teenagers leaned in close as he began to tell the tale of the blood demon beast that rested underneath the river.

[johnsamericano]

“Corruption pt. 5” w.y.h

Pairing: college teacher!Lucas x student!reader.

Genre: fluff, angst, smut.

Summary: Lucas never thought of falling for a student, but from the first day you walked into de classroom you had him wrapped around your finger.

Warnings: none

a/n: This is the last chapter BUT I’m gonna write an epilogue. Hope you like it.

Taglist: @ncteaxhoe @junglewoos

corruption m.list.

“Dude, you need to get out of bed.” Chenle slightly pushed your body. “You’re starting to smell.”

“What’s the point, Chenle?” You whined against your pillow, still a little wet from your mental breakdown an hour ago.

“You still need to go to classes.” He tried pulling your arm, but you didn’t budge.

“I don’t want to see him.”

“You don’t even have classes with him, for god’s sake.” He sighed, desperate to get you out of bed.

“Just leave me alone.” Your phone started buzzing, announcing Lucas’ fifth call of the day. It was barely 9:00 a.m.

“Okay, I’m done with this little attitude of yours.” He grabbed the device and handed it to you. “You’re gonna answer the phone and solve your problems like the goddamn adult you are, or else I might call your parents and tell them you’ve been sleeping with our professor.” You sat straight, eyes wide open.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

You groaned and snatched the phone from his hands, pressing the green button with shaky hands.

“Hello?” Your voice came out weaker than expected.

“Y/n? Thank god. Are you alright? You haven’t been answering any of my calls or messages so I was worried something might have happened.” You hummed. “Can we meet?”

“Okay.”

“I can pick you up and then we can go to my apartment-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll ask Chenle to drive me.”

“Alright. See you then.” A soft murmur stopped you from hanging up. “I love you.” You couldn’t bring yourself to reply, instead ending the call.

“You were such a brave girl.” Your friend cooed while wrapping his arms around you.

“Shut up.”

Chenle helped you pick an outfit to ‘show him what he lost’ and drove you all the way to his apartment complex.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” You released your body from the seatbelt.

“It’s okay, lele. Thank you for driving me.” He nodded before you went out.

You took a deep breath, rehearsing the things you wanted to say to Lucas. But as soon as you saw him, your mind went blank. He looked bad, maybe even worse than you.

“Y/n.” He wanted so bad to hug you, to beg you not to leave him. But that would be selfish.

“Lucas.” He let you in, there were two cups of tea right above the coffee table in his living room.

You sat at a safe distance from him.

“I am deeply sorry, y/n. I should’ve told you earlier what was going on, but I was a coward. I knew this would be over the moment you found out.”

“So what is going on Lucas?” Your voice was calm as you picked up the teacup and brought it to your lips. Those soft, sweet lips.

“There are some things you don’t know about me.” He licked his lips nervously. “For instance, my parents come from wealthy families, and I’m their only child, therefore I’m...”

“The heir.” You completed, feeling a knot forming in your stomach.

“Yes.” He feared so much that you’d see him with different eyes. “My parents wanted me to have someone to guide me and support me for when I take over the family company. The woman you saw last Friday was one of their friends’ daughter.”

He waited for a reply that never came. How could you even answer to that?

“Say something, please.” He finally scooted closer to you, taking your hand between his. His heart broke at the sight of your teary eyes. “Anything, I’m begging you.”

“I understand your decision.” He expected anything but that. “They’re your parents after all, you want to make them proud. I just wish you’d told me earlier, it would’ve been easier to end things between us.”

“I’ll leave them.”

“What?”

“Just ask me to stay with you and I’ll abandon everything.” By the look in his eyes, you knew he meant it. “Ask me to stay with you.” It sounded more like a plead.

“No.” It took all of your inner strength to get that single word out.

“Y/n, I-”

“Lucas, don’t ask me to decide on your life when I barely know what to do with my own.” Yes, your words were hurtful, but you weren’t wrong. “I don’t want to be the girl who made you drift away from your family.”

At some point, you both had started crying, knowing that there was no way you could fix your relationship.

“I’m so sorry, y/n.” He apologized for the millionth time. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know you didn’t.” You held no grudge against him, after all, you would’ve probably done the same if you were in his situation. “Just promise me one thing. You’ll do what’s best for yourself, not for me or for your parents.” He nodded, eyes watering. “I should probably leave now.”

“Wait.” He held onto your wrist, his lost puppy eyes looking directly into your own. “If it isn’t too much to ask, can I have one last kiss?”

It was indeed to much to ask, but you didn’t care. You wanted to feel the warmth of his lips against yours one last time, so you went for it.

Straddling his lap, you grabbed the back of his head to pull him even closer. It was a kiss filled with passion and love, it was your own way of saying goodbye. It took a while for you to pull away.

“Thank you.” He murmured, hands caressing your hips. “I love you so much, y/n. I promise I’ll be back, okay?”

“I love you too, Lucas.” With that being said, you stood up. Avoiding to look back, you made your way out.

Chenle was still outside when you came down, leaning against his car with his arms wide open for you.

You didn’t hesitate to crash your body against his, crying your eyes out as he combed your hair with his fingers.

“I’m here for you. Always.”

(...)

3 years later...

“Where are you?”

“I’m picking up my luggage, see you at the parking lot?”

“Okay.”

A few minutes later, the tall, dark haired man walked out of the airport. A sports bag hanging from his left shoulder while the opposite hand dragged the suitcase.

“Kun!”

“Hey, man.” They greeted each other with a big hug. “I missed you.”

“Sorry, I wanted to visit earlier but work has been a bitch.” Specially when he didn’t even like what he was doing.

“Same here, it seems like the students get more unbearable with every semester.” He helped Lucas load his belongings into the truck. “So how’s Mrs. Wong been? Are you getting along well?”

“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes while getting inside the car. “Last week, my mom asked us about our sex life. She was like ‘I expect to have grandkids by the end of next year’, the last time we kissed was in our wedding.”

“So you’re gonna be a dad?” He mocked, starting the engine.

“Not from her kids at least.” Kun knew exactly what that meant.

“Lucas, you should really get over her. You’re a married man.”

“Not for much longer.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve been seeing a lawyer, none of us is happy with our relationship and we’ve already wasted three years of our life in it. It’s time to end it.”

“And what do your parents think about this?”

“They don’t have a say in this matter. I’m and adult and it’s my future we’re talking about.”

“And why couldn’t you come to this conclusion three years ago? You would’ve saved me all the suffering from listening to you ranting about how much you missed y/n.” Lucas hit his arm playfully, a big smile on his face as the thought of you crossed his mind.

He unlocked his phone, your picture was still his wallpaper.

“Has she graduated yet?”

“She’s actually doing her master’s degree. She’s an exceptional student, a lot of important labs already have their eyes on her.”

“Of course they do, they’d be stupid if they didn’t.” His finger traced your figure, smiling proudly at the image.

“Oh look at you, you haven’t stopped loving her one bit.”

“Stop it.”

“Oh, by the way, we need to stop by the campus. I have to pick up exams to check them at home.” Lucas’ eyes lit up at the possibility of meeting you.

“Do you think she’ll be there?”

“Probably, she’s usually devouring a book at the library or at the lab. Sometimes she stops by at my office for tutoring or my opinion on something.”

“You better not have tried something with her.”

“Actually...”

“What?”

“Just kidding, she’s my student, nothing more.”

“She better be.”

The campus was thankfully near the airport. Lucas almost fell as he exited the vehicle, eager to see you once again after all those years.

“Careful, give me a call when you’re done looking for her.”

“Sure.” He replied, already running away from the car towards the library.

He met a lot of his old students on the way, briefly greeting them before resuming his search. You weren’t there, so he decided to try at the labs.

You weren’t there either, but your ID and belongings were. You looked different in your picture, you looked so mature now, but your innocent aura was still intact.

“Are you looking for y/n?” One of the students asked as soon as he saw Lucas eyeing her ID. “She just left.”

“Oh, thank you.” He replied, still not taking his eyes off your mesmerizing face.

His phone vibrated.

‘She’s in my office.’ His heart sped up and his legs automatically started moving.

On his way to Kun’s office he tried to think of ways to greet you. Would a simple ‘hello’ be okay? Or would it be appropriate to tell you how much he missed you?

His mind was so busy he didn’t realized he was already in front of the office. He took a deep breath before opening the door. Your back was facing him while you passionately explained Kun the results of your experiment, not even realizing who just made an appearance.

“Y/n.” Lucas called from the door frame, causing you to interrupt your explanation.

“Yes?” You finally turned around. “Lucas?”

Your hair was tied up in a messy hair bun, a pair of safety glasses covering your eyes and a stained lab coat around your body. You looked like a mad scientist, a cute mad scientist.

“Hi.” Was the only thing he could pronounce. ‘How pathetic’ he thought.

“Long time no see.” You smiled so warmly, as if he hadn’t abandoned you to marry another woman. “Have you been well?”

“Y-yes, I mean, as well as I can be.” Your eyes wandered to his hand, taking notice of the golden ring around his finger.

“I’m glad.” You dedicated him another smile before turning back to face your professor. “I’ll send you the draft of my report as soon as I finish it. Excuse me.” You grabbed your laptop from the desk and went out, murmuring a small ‘bye’ to Lucas on your way out. The scent of your perfume striking him with a wave of nostalgia.

“Well, I don’t know what I was expecting but this was definitely not it.”

“I don’t know why I thought we would both burst into tears and say how much we missed each other.” He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

“She’s probably going back to the lab, in case you want to talk to her again.” He nodded. “I’ll wait for you so we can head to my house.”

“Alright, I’ll try to be quick.” He went out again, this time at a slower pace.

He went back to the labs, your voice receiving him as soon as he crossed the entrance. Most of the students had already left, it was already getting dark.

“Zhong Chenle, get out of here, you’re distracting me.”

“But, y/n, I’m hungry and I don’t want to go alone to the cafeteria.”

“Not my problem.” You were focused on writing your report, the safety glasses still on your face.

“Uhm, are you busy?” Lucas knocked on the door, catching yours and Chenle’s attention.

“You’re back.” His eyes were wide open. “You know what? I’ll go get our food, see you.”

“Coward.” You muttered. “Come in, Lucas.” Even though there was no hint of anger in your voice, the fact that you were calling him Lucas and not Xuxi meant something bad.

“What are you working on, huh?” He says on the stool beside yours, taking a look at your screen.

“Just trying to find a cure for AIDS, nothing special.” You typed a few more words before saving the file. “What did you want to talk about Mr. Wong?”

“I think you know what.”

“I think so.” You removed the glasses, red marks over the area where they used to be.

“Cute.” He though out loud, causing you to touch your face, the color of your cheeks becoming pinker with every second. It was amazing how much of an effect his words still had on you.

“S-sorry, I wore these for more than five hours.”

“Don’t worry, I know what it’s like.” He tapped his fingers against the table. “Three years huh?”

“Yeah, seems like it was yesterday when we...” You chose not to finish the sentence, knowing that it would probably make you cry.

“I missed you.” His hand reached out for yours, the golden band around his finger burning your skin. “There hasn’t been a single day where I haven’t thought about you. You managed to take over my mind in a way that no one else could ever do.”

“We can’t do this.” With your free hand, you gently removed his hand from yours. “You’re married.”

“I’m getting divorced soon.” Your heart thumped so loudly against your chest that you were afraid he’d hear it. “We just need to fix some things and this whole thing will be over.”

You pulled out your notebook from your bag, tearing a piece of paper to write in it. You handed it to him with a genuine smile.

“Here’s my new number. Give me a call when you finish fixing those things, I’ve already waited for three years, so what’s a few more months?”

[after-avenging-hours]

Out of Time [2]: Steve x Reader

Series Masterlist with dates on chapter releases - tag list will not be used for this series

Summary:  After Steve gets injected with a mysterious substance during a mission gone wrong, you come to find out that the only thing that can save his life is a pure sample of Dr. Erskine’s Super Soldier Serum. Unwilling to let the love of your life die without a fighting chance, you travel through the quantum realm back to 1943. Equipped with little more than your knowledge of past events, you have to figure out just how exactly you’re going to get your hands on that serum. Not only that, but with the infinity stones no longer protecting the reality you’ve come from, there is now a chance that your presence in the past can change the future you’ll return to. Can you succeed without messing things up? And if things go wrong, can you fix it before it’s too late? Or will you run out of time…

Word Count: 5766

Warnings: Major character injury, triaging a wound, blood, stitches, gets a bit feelsy at the end

“Whoa! Hang on!” He doesn’t quite have the strength to keep you standing. But he follows you down as you collapse to make sure you don’t hurt yourself even more. He wraps his arms around you, pulling your body into a frame much smaller than you’re used to.

The gun in your hand clatters to the floor and you then press that hand into your throbbing side.

Steve blanches when he sees the weapon. “Is that yours?” he questions.

You shake your head weakly. “No. It was one of theirs.”

His brows raise in surprise. He knows that dames carrying weapons were more likely to have them taken by their assailants, not the other way around.

You look down at the hand clutched to your side, peeling your palm back to see that it’s completely covered in red. “Shit,” you curse, gritting your teeth. You close your eyes tight and tilt your head back against the brick wall, attempting to will the pain away, so it’s not completely clouding your senses.

Steve follows your line of sight and pales when he sees your blood. “Oh my God… I need to get you to a hospital.”

“No!” Your eyes snap open and you grip the collar of his shirt. “No hospitals,” You urge. You can’t be tied down to a hospital bed and potentially miss your window of opportunity. “I just,” you huff, your head dizzy now from the rapid movement. “Need to get someplace safe.”

“Miss… You’ve been shot. If we don’t get you-”

Your groan of pain cuts him off as you push yourself into a more upright position. “Is there blood on my back?” you question breathlessly.

“Wha-” Steve gapes for a second, before leaning over your body to check. “Yes…” he confirms. “A lot.” He leans back once more the look of concern returning to his eyes tenfold.

“That’s actually a good thing.” You tell him. “Means it’s a clean shot. Through and through. A hospital’s not going to be able to do anything that I can’t do myself with a bit of first aid.”

Steve finds himself only wanting to ask more questions, but he knows if you don’t start applying that first aid quickly, then you really will need a hospital. “My apartment is just around the corner,” he offers without thought.

More likely to run straight into trouble rather than think things through, it doesn’t even cross Steve’s mind that maybe he shouldn’t get mixed up in whatever this is. He grabs the gun, knowing that it wouldn’t be a good idea to just leave it behind. He looks around the alley to make sure there aren’t any other witnesses.

“Do you think you can stand?” he asks, almost wishing Bucky was around to carry you, but he knows Barnes would have his head over this.

You nod once, shifting one arm around his shoulders while removing the one from your side to grip the brick wall for purchase. You mentally count to three before pushing yourself up, Steve trying to do what he can to help. You release a guttural cry of pain with the movement and your vision goes black for a second. You hold still, keeping your grip on Steve and on the wall while you huff for breath.

You wait for your vision to clear and for your head to stop spinning before you give Steve a nod. “Okay. Let’s go.” You bite your lip to keep your whimpers in while you limp along with Steve holding you up.

It’s slow progress to make it down the alley and into a small courtyard area surrounded by apartment buildings. “I’m on the second floor,” Steve gives you an apologetic look when you reach the base of a set of metal stairs.

You release a long breath and grit your teeth before taking them on. Each step feels like an icepick getting jammed into your side. You nearly pass out after reaching the top but managed to keep it together a few more steps to reach his front door.

Steve is immensely grateful that he remembered his key this morning and doesn’t need to fumble around looking for it. The door opens with a push and he quickly shuffles you inside. He helps to lower your body onto the modest brown couch in his living room that Bucky got from him at a yard sale. The cushions are a little stained, no matter how he’s tried to clean them, the pillows are mismatched, and there’s a soft floral perfume scent permanently attached to the thing from the previous owner.

You give yourself a second to catch your breath before you begin pulling your shirt out from where it’s tucked into your skirt and start undoing the buttons. Steve’s eyes widen and his ears turn pink when you completely remove your top. You catch the way that he stares and would laugh if you weren’t in so much pain. You mentally pat yourself on the back for getting the vintage lingerie set for Steve’s birthday a few years ago. It certainly came in handy to keep your whole outfit authentic.

“Do you have clean linen and hot water?” you ask, needing to give him something to do for a quick moment.

He snaps out of it and nods. “Yeah,” he confirms before disappearing deeper into the apartment.

You wait for a second to make sure he’s really gone before hiking up your skirt to unclip the small pouch you have attached to your thigh holster. Opening the pouch, you turn it over to dump the contents onto the couch cushion next to you. A slim metal case, about the size and shape of a smartphone, falls out first, followed by what may appear to be a series of Barbie doll accessories. There’s a tiny red bag with a white cross that you pick out from the items.

Everything else goes back into the pouch before you open the metal case and reveal the series of discs inside. The ones on the left have red in their center, while the ones on the right have blue. You take a blue disc and throw it at the miniature first aid bag, allowing it to grow back to normal size.

“Thank you, Scott Lang,” you mutter under your breath, closing the metal case and returning it to the pouch. You clip the pouch back to your thigh holster and pull your skirt back down.

You have the first aid bag open and are rifling through the various compartments when Steve comes back into the room. He stops short and looks at you with confusion. “…Where did you get that?”

You turn to see him standing in the doorway, a few hand towels draped over his shoulder while he carries a large ceramic bowl. “Oh, that’s perfect.” You indicate for him to bring the items over. Ignoring his question.

Pulling a packet of painkillers from your kit, you rip open the foil and take them dry. You follow that up with a drop of hand sanitizer into your palm and work the liquid gel over your hands and between your fingers. Steve places the bowl of water at your feet and kneels down next to it. You then hand him the bottle of sanitizer.

“What is this?” he questions.

“Isopropyl alcohol mixed with aloe gel. It will disinfect your hands. You just need a small drop.”

“Okay…” he looks a little unsure, but follows your lead and drops some into his palm. He hands the bottle back and mimics your earlier movement to spread the gel. He then drops a towel into the bowl, letting it soak up the water before he wrings it out and folds it into a neat square.

You thank him softly when he hands it to you and you then press it to the wound on your front. “Can you get the exit wound?” you ask.

He nods once, wringing out a second towel and then presses it firmly to your back. He tries his best to keep his focus on the task at hand, despite having your breasts, pretty much at eye level. Before this, the closest he’s ever been to seeing a woman dressed in only a brasserie is the mannequins at Macy’s. What in the world would Bucky think, if he found out there was a half-naked woman in Steve’s apartment right now? The bastard would probably congratulate him, honestly.

“That should be good enough.” Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “Just clear the dried blood from around the wound.” You’ve gone back to rifling in your kit and pull out a small aerosol canister. The cap comes off with a pop and you quickly aim and spray directly onto the wound at your front. The substance inside comes out as a sort of gel spray, but soon begins to froth and bubble where it makes contact with the wound. “Here,” you give the can to Steve.

He takes it hesitantly. “That looks like it hurts.”

You laugh dryly. “It’s a gunshot wound. It already hurts.”

Can’t argue with that. Steve aims the canister and sprays the mystery substance onto your back wound. You take the canister back, cap it, and put it away. You can already feel the gel beginning to work its magic. Given to you by Shuri during one of your visits with Steve to Wakanda, the gel was a coagulant to stop bleeding, but also could promote cell regeneration to expedite the healing process, and even worked as a numbing agent to dull the pain. It certainly helps when getting to this next part.

“How are you with needles?” you ask, pulling out a curved needle and some stitching thread next.

He gulps audibly before he slowly nods. He and Bucky have had to stitch each other up, more than a few times, but neither of them were surgeons by any means.

Seeing the worry on his face, you try to ease his fears. “It doesn’t need to be perfect, just enough to keep the wound closed. The gel will be able to take care of the rest.”

“Okay,” he agrees, taking the needle and thread from you.

With the gel and the painkillers beginning to take over, you finally have a clear enough head to actually be able to take him in. It’s a little strange seeing him like this in person. You’d seen the photo that gets taken at Camp Lehigh and your Steve had eventually opened up enough to paint his own picture of what his life had been like pre-serum. But you never thought you’d see it with your own eyes.

His clothes hang loose around his frame, nearly engulfing him. The air of stoic confidence you’d grown used to is nowhere to be seen. His shoulders are rigid, back tense, and he almost looks a little uncomfortable to be so close to you. That’s certainly different. The Steve you knew had always been comfortable around you, even from the day you met.

You had been working at the SHIELD Headquarters in New York when Steve’s body was found in the Arctic. You didn’t actually get a chance to meet him at the point, and after the Battle of New York, you were relocated to the other side of the country. Then, after SHIELD fell, you ended up moving overseas. It wasn’t until after the whole Ultron fiasco that you were recruited by Natasha to check out the Avenger’s compound in upstate New York.

You’ll never forget the look on his face when Nat stepped out of the way to introduce you. His eyes had lit up like the sun peeking out behind a cloud and when he smiled your heart had stopped. You’re also pretty sure you may have swooned a little. He shook your hand and held it tight. You remember how he had looked deeply into your eyes like he was seeing into your very soul, and then his gaze flickered all over your face like he was painting your picture in his mind. He then welcomed you to the Avengers, without even giving you an initiation test.

You try to find hints of that Steve in this one. The more you look, the easier they are to find. The eyes are obvious. Highly expressive that he has a hard time concealing his emotions. His brows still furrow the same when he’s trying to concentrate. His ears are still red, which is a good sign. This means he’s not completely unaffected by you.

“My name’s Vic, by the way,” you introduce yourself just as he’s finishing up the stitching on your front wound.

His gaze lifts up to meet yours. “Steve. Though, somehow you already seem to know that.”

You give him a look of confusion, trying to understand what he means, but then you recall saying his name when he first reached you in the alley. You quickly try to come up with an excuse. “I didn’t, actually. You look like someone I know. His name is also Steve,” you try to play off. Badly.

“Huh. Small world.” The corner of his mouth tilts up into the barest hint of a smirk. It’s still enough to make your heart race.

Even 95 pounds soaking wet, you’ve still got it bad for this man.

You hand him a pair of small surgical scissors to cut the thread. While he gets to work on stitching up your exit wound, you grab the supplies you need to finish triaging the front wound. You apply a small amount of disinfectant cream over the stitches before packing it with sterile gauze and taping the gauze to your skin. Steve helps you do the same on your back once he’s finished with the stitches there. After that, you take a long strip of self-adherent bandage tape to completely wrap your torso.

“That should do it. Thanks, Steve,” you send him a smile as you begin to pack up and close your first aid kit.

“Is that standard-issue?” Steve askes, nodding to your kit.

You breathe out a soft laugh. “Not quite,” you respond cryptically. “But a girl’s gotta be prepared.”

He raises a brow. “Do you often find yourself running into men with guns in back alleys?”

You mimic his look. “Do you often find yourself running toward the sound of gunfire rather than away?”

He blinks once, then shrugs, his shoulders relaxing a little. “More often than I should, if Bucky had anything to say about it.”

You have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing outright. “This Bucky sounds like he’s got a good head on his shoulders. Maybe you should listen to him more often.”

He scoffs. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

“Trust me when I tell you that getting shot really isn’t high on the list of things I’d consider fun,” you tell him with a grimace.

That sobers him. “No, I imagine it wouldn’t.” He drops his gaze and busies himself by rinsing your blood off his hands with the water in the bowl that has started to turn pink. “So, what does ‘Lady V’ mean?” he asks, the curiosity getting to him.

He looks up and catches the confusion in your eyes before his gaze drops to your chest. You realize he’s talking about the tattoo written in a curling script below your right collar bone, the letters framed on either side by a pair of small wings. Your Steve had actually been the one to design it for you.

“It stands for Lady Victory,” you explain. “It’s my code name.”

His eyes widen in surprise. “You’re an agent?” he questions like he can’t believe it. His cheeks then flush as he attempts to backtrack. “I mean- not that you couldn’t be. It’s just you’re so beautiful, you could have been anything. And not that there’s anything wrong with being an agent, it’s just-”

“Steve…” You say his name gently, trying to get him to breathe, while a smile of amusement creeps onto your face.

“Sorry,” he mutters, dropping his gaze once more and releases a long breath. “Just, why go for something that’s so high risk?”

You take a moment to compose your thoughts, trying to figure out how best to answer his question. “We all have things that call to us. Be it duty or a sense of purpose… I don’t know. It just always felt like the right path for me. And believe it or not, looking like just another pretty face can actually be advantageous in this line of work. People will often underestimate you.”

Steve releases a long sigh. “The underestimating part I could handle. Been dealing with that my whole life. But I can’t even get enlisted. They take one look at my medical record and write me off before even giving me a chance. How did you do it?”

You realize where he’s trying to steer the conversation. At this point, he would have already tried to enlist and thus been rejected, four times. “Just because it’s the right path doesn’t mean it’s the easiest. Keep trying. Keep moving forward and eventually, you’ll end up where you’re meant to be.”

He shoots you a wry smile. “You make it sound so simple.”

You huff out a laugh. “Oh, it’s definitely not. But if it were, it wouldn’t be quite as satisfying when you finally succeed.”

He releases a low hum, letting your words sink in. “So, Lady Victory…” he says like he’s tasting the words in his mouth. “Is that where ‘Vic’ comes from?”

“It is,” you confirm.

He nods like he’s pondering over something else. “A guy takes you in off the street, then helps you patch up a bullet wound, and you don’t even give him your real name?”

You can’t help but grin at his cheekiness.

“I mean, Bucky probably won’t even believe the story to begin with.”

That promptly wipes the grin from your face. “Steve, you can’t tell anyone that I was here. Not even Bucky,” you urge desperately. You’re already terrified that there are going to be ramifications from this interaction, you have to try to prevent it from rippling out even further. “I… I should go.”

“Go?” he repeats, startled.

You turn to grab the first aid kit and your blood-soaked shirt, wincing when the movement tugs at your wound. “I’ve already put you in enough danger as is.”

“Do you think those men will come back?”

You shake your head, feeding your arm through the sleeve of the shirt on your injured side, and pull it up onto your shoulder with your good arm. “I don’t know. They might.”

You feel Steve’s hand settle over yours, stopping your movements. You pause and meet his gaze. “Well then, all the more reason you should stay. They won’t find you here and I can’t send you back out there injured and into the night.”

“Steve…” You know you shouldn’t. The longer you stay, the more you’ll risk messing up the timeline. But looking into his eyes, you can’t find the strength to pull away. The image of your Steve laying in the hospital bed looking steps away from death’s door pops into your head. Comparing that to the one in front of you; alive, breathing, vibrant… It makes you want to grab onto him with both hands and never let go.

“Stay,” he repeats once more.

“Okay,” you find yourself breathing the word out without thought.

His eyes soften and his hand gently squeezes yours before he pulls back. “And I promise not to tell anyone about you as long as you give me your real name.”

You huff out a laugh, dropping your head and shoulders. “You’re a sly one, I’ll give you that much.” Lifting your gaze back to his, you tell him your full name.

He grins victoriously and you can feel yourself falling in love with him all over again. He holds his hand out for you to shake. “Steve Rogers.”

You find yourself matching his grin as you place your hand in his. “It’s nice to meet you, Steve Rogers.”

Your hands shake once before he pulls back and moves to stand on his feet. “Now, how about I get you something to wear that’s not covered in blood and bullet holes?”

You look down at the shirt you only have half on, your cheeks flushing with heat. “Yes, that would be nice. Thank you.”

He moves deeper into the apartment once more, leaving you alone. You pull your shirt back off and lift it up to take in the damage. It’s pretty bad. Even if you could get the bloodstains out, the two bullet holes didn’t really help matters. Huffing, you toss it into the bowl of water and do the same with the two damp towels, also covered in your blood.

You grunt quietly as you attempt to push yourself up and off the couch. The pain killers may have dulled a majority of the pain, but movement causes a sharp sting to push through. You kneel onto the floor and try to keep your torso as straight as possible as you lift the bowl into your arms and straighten back up. The movement is a bit awkward, but you manage successfully without pulling your stitches.

You follow Steve’s direction to head deeper into the apartment in search of the kitchen. It’s not difficult to find, as the apartment is fairly small. A short hallway separates the living room from the remainder of the apartment, with the hall opening into the kitchen on the left and with the bedroom and bathroom doors on either side to the right. There is light pouring out of the open bedroom door and the sound of Steve rifling through various drawers and his closet.

You turn into the kitchen and set the bowl down into the sink. Tipping out the bloody water, you open the tap from the faucet to fill the bowl once more. There’s a bar of soap on the edge of the sink next to the faucet, which you grab and start rubbing into one of the towels to work up a lather.

“You don’t have to do that,” Steve’s voice sounds from behind you.

You glance over your shoulder to see him standing there, some folded, striped pajamas in his hands. “I didn’t want to stain your towels,” you tell him.

He moves in next to you. “I’ll take care of that. You just worry about healing your injury.”

You set down the soap and towel, rinsing your hands clean. There’s a fresh hand towel by the sink, which you use to dry your hands before taking the offered clothing. “Thank you, Steve,” you tell him, holding the clothes to your chest. He nods once, dipping his head to avoid your gaze. He never was any good at accepting gratitude. “Really.” You insist. “I don’t know many people that would take in a complete stranger and help them the way you’ve helped me.”

He shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “Bucky is always telling me that I’m reckless in my pursuit of doing what I think is right.”

Isn’t that the damn truth…

“Besides,” he continues. “You’re also pretty trusting of a complete stranger that offered to take you in.”

Your sweet laughter reminds him of springtime. “I’m a pretty good judge of character,” you tell him, smiling brightly. It lightens your heart to see him relax just a bit more around you. Your fingers fiddle with the fabric of the clothes in your arms. “Well, I should probably go get changed. Thank you, again, for these.”

“Oh, sure,” he sweeps his arm to the side, gesturing for you to walk past. “They’re actually Bucky’s, so I hope they fit okay. I figured my clothes might be too small…”

You catch the slight shift in his demeanor when he brings up one of his biggest insecurities, pre-serum.

Reaching out, you gently touch a curled finger to the underside of his chin. You guide his face back up until he meets your eyes once more. “Chin up, Rogers. You’re looking far too glum for a man that’s got a half-naked woman walking around his apartment.”

You grin teasingly when his whole face goes red. “Oh, I-I didn’t look!” Almost instinctively, his eyes dip down the length of your body, before they widen in horror when he realizes what he’s just done.

You giggle girlishly. “Don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you.” You then turn and step out of the kitchen to head for the bathroom.

With the door firmly shut and locked behind you, a long breath slips past your lips. “Girl, what are you doing?” you whisper to yourself.

Stepping over to the sink, you muster the courage to look at yourself in the mirror. You look a little worse for wear, but that certainly comes with the territory of getting shot. Your lipstick is smudged and your hair is a mess. You can’t do much about a shower right now with your freshly tended to wound, but hopefully, by the morning, the healing gel will have had enough time to make at least that possible.

Removing your thigh holster, you open the pouch again and use another particle disc to bring your toiletry bag back to size. You run through your night routine as quickly, yet carefully as possible, feeling the tension of the day beginning to weigh on you, and now all you want to do is sleep. With makeup removed and teeth brushed, you manage to track down and extract all the hairpins from your hair. From there, you move on to shedding the remainder of your rumpled uniform, including your stockings and heels. The sight of blood down the back of your skirt makes you grimace when you realize it’s probably gotten onto Steve’s couch, too.

Unhooking the back of your bra is a bit difficult to manage while injured, but eventually, you get it. You slide the garment off, letting it pool to the floor. Checking in the mirror, you find that your undies didn’t make it unscathed either from all the bloodshed. With a sigh, you push them off your hips and down your legs.

You dig through the cupboards and drawers under the sink until you find a clean washcloth. After soaking it and wringing it out, you use the damp cloth to remove the last bit of dried blood from your skin before sliding into the pajamas. God, they’re so vintage. Baby blue and white vertical stripes with a pocket square on the left breast. You make the adjustments you need to feel a little more comfortable in them; rolling the cuffs and pants, and tying the drawstring.

You run both your undies and skirt under the tap, rinsing as much blood as you can out of them, but anything more than that will need to be dealt with in the morning. You fold the skirt in on itself, leaving the dry side out and the damp side in, with your undies tucked inside as well.

You then find a place to hide your toiletries, not wanting to use a particle disc just yet, since you’ll need them in the morning, along with your first aid kit. Gathering your clothes and holster into your arms, you venture out of the bathroom. You can look into Steve’s room from across the hall and find him standing next to his closet, buttoning up the shirt of his own pajamas.

Like a moth to a flame, you find yourself entering the space. His scent hits you and it brings tears to your eyes because he still smells the same. Walking into his room here smells exactly like walking into his room at the compound. It smells like coming home.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, noting the slightly distressed look on your face.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts and force a smile. “Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long day.”

“Well, you should lie down, then.” He indicates to the full-sized bed, with a corner of the covers pulled back already.

You move toward it, setting your clothes on the bedside table next to a small lamp and reach out to finger the covers. You turn and take a seat on the mattress. It’s a bit lumpy, but the fatigue is really starting to settle in, so you’re sure it won’t matter.

Steve watches you for a moment before turning to leave the room.

“Wait, where are you going?” you ask.

He stops, turning to you in surprise. “I was going to sleep in the living room,” he states like it’s obvious.

The distressed look comes back to your face. “Will you stay?” you ask, your vulnerability cracking through. Last night, while he lay dying in the infirmary on the other side of the compound, you’d struggled to sleep by yourself in a room that smelled like him. No matter how exhausted you felt, you know you won’t be able to sleep comfortably if you had to do that again.

He looks a little conflicted. “Are you sure?” he questions.

You hold his gaze when you nod.

“Okay…” he relents, though he still sounds unsure.

As he begins to head over, you turn to push the covers back and shuffle toward the other side of the bed.

“What are you doing?” he questions, stopping his movement as he was preparing to walk to the side you’re currently settling into.

“Moving, so you don’t have to sleep by the window,” you respond automatically as you settle under the covers. It’s one of his weird quirks that you’ve grown used to. He’d explained once that before the serum, sleeping near the window would make his asthma worse if there was a slight draft. After the serum though, he still didn’t like it, because he’d grown more sensitive to lights and sound. So, you always took the window side wherever you both slept together.

You pat the empty space of the mattress and grin, “Come on, Steve. I don’t bite. I promise.”

He reaches to turn off the bedside lamp before he slowly lowers himself down onto the mattress, legs tucking under the blanket. He looks like he’s ready to bolt at a moment’s notice as he lays on his back and stares up at the ceiling. You lay on your side, so you won’t irritate the stitches on your front and back while you sleep. You tuck your hands under your pillow and close your eyes.

A few moments of silence pass. “Steve, you’re never going to fall asleep if you keep your muscles tense like that,” you whisper in the dark.

You feel his body shift around slightly beneath the covers. “Sorry… I’ve never done this before,” he admits.

You want to laugh because he’s freaking adorable, but you hold it in. “Turn on your side,” you encourage. He hesitates a moment before complying and turning onto his side to face you. “Close your eyes.” There’s just enough street light coming in from the window to be able to see him. He holds your gaze for a second before his eyes close and he releases a long breath.

You untuck one of your hands and reach up to gently run your fingers through his hair. He tenses up even more with the first touch, but your nails scratch at his scalp in a way that makes him shiver. Your hand slips down the back of his head and curls underneath his ear before you move back up to his forehead and do it again.

The longer you keep doing that, the more the tension eases from his body, until he’s completely relaxed. Just a few more passes of your fingers through his hair and soon his breath evens out as he falls asleep. Your hand curls around the bottom of his ear one more time before your palm settles on the edge of his jaw.

He looks the same when he sleeps here as he does in your time. His features soften, that pinch no longer between his brow and the stern tilt of his mouth eases up. He gains an air of innocence and loses the weight of the world that he carries on his shoulders.

You watch over him for a minute. Memorizing his features before you shift closer. You dip your head down, tucking it beneath his chin to bury your face into his chest and you gently wrap an arm around his waist. He stirs a little but doesn’t awaken.

He feels different, but you’re still able to draw comfort from his closeness. A huge portion of the weight he normally carries has now fallen to your shoulders, and God, are you feeling it. If you fail in getting a sample of the formula, or if you take too long and the components break down before you’re able to get it to Dr. Banner, then these may very well be the last moments you’ll get to share with Steve.

If there’s any hope of salvaging the timeline, you’ll disappear by morning and be nothing but a dream to him. If you forsake the timeline and stay, not only could you mess up your chances of getting the serum, but there will also be the potential for a domino effect to spiral out and shift the entire course of Steve’s future. Could you really risk that just for a few more days of basking in his presence?

On the flip side, do you really have the strength to walk away? Sure, you’re terrified of failing the mission, but you’re even more terrified of losing out on your last few moments together, should you fail. And what if, by some tiny miracle, you could have your cake and eat it too? What if you could succeed and still spend time with him.

If there’s one thing you know for certain… you’re not ready to let him go.

Just as that thought crosses your mind, Steve’s arm curls around your waist, pinning your body against his.

Taking that as a sign, you push all remaining thoughts out and settle comfortably against his chest. You’ll stay till morning and then see how the rest pans out. For now, you’re safe in his arms and you’re going to cherish this as much as possible. With eyes closed and legs tangled, it doesn’t take long for you to join Steve in the realm of sleep.

Part 3