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fireflyinsummer · 3 years

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An Amalgamation Waltz 1839. |01|

> pairing: min yoongi x reader

> genre: FallenAngel!AU

> words: 23k

> warnings: hints of smut (heavy make out), a scene of harassment (nothing explicit), violence. possible heresy. forgive me. a third party’s unrequited feelings for OC. don’t know if i did this right, it’s 3 am right now.

> summary: When it comes to the both of you, a lifetime is not enough. And when it comes to you, there’s really no lines he wouldn’t be willing to cross. Even on the brink of a war that could destroy the world as we know it, you’re everything.

“ (...) ‘Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?’ he asked wistfully.

You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

‘I’ve never had to,’ you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you.”

a/n: my love for Paradise Lost gave birth to this. i really like this one :) gonna be posting the second (and last) part soon! no need to say that PL was just an inspiration, this isn’t exactly based on the poem.

“(…) Here at least

We shall be free, the almighty hath not built

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice

To reign is worth ambition though in hell:

Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.”

The sudden thud on the wooden surface of the table made you jolt and close the book, heart rate increasing considerably.

“Y/N.” His voice was deep, dragging your name through his teeth to evince his annoyance. The bustling café was already at its peak hours and you didn’t even notice the time as it passed you by.

“Yes, Taehyung?” You ogled your grumpy friend, his noisy arrival being due to the study material he tossed in front of you.

“You said you’d help me with English lit. I was waiting for you at the library for about an hour and your phone is off.” As you remembered why you were even in the café in the first place, you threw him a guilty look. He pouted. “Hey, what does that Milton guy have that I don’t? And the fancy words don’t count.” You giggled.

“John Milton has nothing on you, Tae. He’d probably need my help to get through this semester as well.” The joke seemed to almost let you in his good graces again, but you knew he still needed the bribery. “I’ll buy you your favorite if you forgive me.” You could tell he was fighting back a smile upon hearing your offer, his mood suddenly uplifted.

“Okay. But don’t think I’ll let you off the hook that easily.”

“I wouldn’t dare. Wait here.” You went to the balcony to pay the check and get his frappuccino to go. Taehyung was a sweet guy who liked sweet things, and that also applied to his coffee. His sweet tooth earned him a nickname from you – Marzipan. Waiting for the bartender to finish your order, you looked over where your best friend was digging through your copy of Paradise Lost without much enthusiasm.

You had moved in next door to his house about fifteen years ago, and you two instantly initiated a solid friendship. As much as you could say about three-year-olds. Despite him being one of your favorite people in the whole world, the both of you were into totally different things. He went to parties, you enjoyed some lone quality time. He played all sorts of sports, you preferred to stick to your writing and, sometimes, the piano. You were still working on the latter. But even though you seemed to be totally opposites, he still got you like no one else could. He was the person you told all your secrets to, not that you had that many anyway, and you liked to think – no, you were sure of it – he felt the same way about you.

“Here’s your overly-sweet drink, Marzipan. I don’t even know if you can still call it coffee,” you scowled.

“Don’t diss my frappuccino, it’s the sole reason of my forgiveness.”

“Yeah, right. So, you wanna get going? I’m sure you have a lot of thoughts on that book already.”

“It was very average so far, if I do say so myself. I don’t know why you like it so much,” he teased you.

“Well, that’s what the private lessons are for. So I can teach you good taste.” You pushed the door open and immediately shivered as you felt a cold gush of air. It was snowing.

“Here, take my coat. Why don’t you ever wear decent clothes in the winter? I swear to God, I don’t know how you never caught something serious, like pneumonia or whatever,” he scolded.

“You don’t have to. We’re near home anyway,” you tried to reassure him, but he was, as usual, outwardly ignoring it. “Really, Tae, it’s no big deal. Let’s go.” He was ready to fight you on this one, but you were already walking away. He took a few hurried steps to catch up.

After a ten-minute walk, daylight was almost completely gone, lit lampposts following its wake. You both hit the front door rug with your feet several times before getting inside, your mom was a bit freaky when it came to cleaning.

“Mom, Tae’s here!” You shouted from the living room, guessing she was in the kitchen. “We’re going upstairs for a bit! School work!”

“Okay, honey! Tell him that dinner will be ready soon!” She responded.

“I love you, Ms. D’Angelis!” He shot back. Yes, you had an italian background. When she heard his voice, she made sure to come out and greet him.

“Love you, too, honey”, she pecked his forehead and he beamed. They liked each other way too much for their own good. “And you,” she pointed in your direction, “give mamma a kiss.”

You sighed before attending to her request. It was in your best interest not to fight it. “Okay, enough of this. We’ll be upstairs if you need us.”

“Have fun, kids.” You sure would. Taehyung might beg to differ.

The rest of the night was somewhat peaceful. You had helped Taehyung as much as you could before your mother called you out to eat, claiming that you shouldn’t starve the boy and then make him eat a cold meal. He couldn’t agree fast enough. For the most part, that was your life. Uncomplicated and comfortable, which was plenty for an eighteen year old. When you went to bed after practicing the piano for a little while, you were completely unaware of the pair of pitch black eyes that observed you through the window. But he was fully aware of you.

||\\

[Fear of the Water, by SYML]

You knew it was a dream. From the moment your brain processed the heavenly sight that unrevealed before your eyes, you knew. It was breaking dawn, the soft orange light kissing the ocean like a long lost lover. You were at the end of a cliff, but couldn’t find it in yourself to be afraid. You looked down at the waves that broke into the rocks almost violently, the salty breeze somewhat comforting. You loved the sea.

Taking a few deep breaths, you barely noticed the crack. The sound came from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t want to look away from the view, neither did you want to wake up. When you heard it again, you recognized footsteps. You turned around lazily, curious as to whom it would be the visitor of your reverie. When you fixed your eyes on him, though, you stopped breathing for a moment and your heart surely skipped a beat. He was a stranger in a number of ways, for he was seemed truly unworldly. Maybe ethereal was the word you were looking for. His violet eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe. Beautiful. His hair was dark as it fell like a silky curtain on his forehead. Not a single flaw on his skin or his body, but none of that was as breathtaking as what lied on his back. Great, large white wings, so beautifully outstretched that you felt unworthy of looking at them.

You opened your mouth a few times, but nothing would come out. Probably for the best, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of what was probably your mind’s greatest creation. How you could come up with him was beyond you. You wanted to ask his name before it all ended and you had to go back to real life, back to average. You wanted to touch his face, his wings, see for yourself if they felt as they looked. You wished you never woke up. As he took a step closer, you took your own back, startled at the sudden movement. Before you realized your mistake, it was too late. You had lost your balance. You knew it would be over soon. Taking one last look at the stranger, you saw as he stretched one arm to reach you, but to no avail. Too soon, the wind was ricocheting your skin and you were falling.

You woke up with a loud gasp as you searched for air, finding it oddly rarefied. When you registered the annoyingly high pitch of your alarm, you whined. Real life was the last thing you wanted to face right now, but if you told your mother that you’d stay in bed daydreaming about a figment of your imagination, she would personally retrieve you from the bed and toss you into the shower. Made sense.

Getting ready as quickly as you could manage, you felt excited for no obvious reason. Maybe it was the afterglow of the dream, but now you were eager to get out of the house, as if you wanted to find him. Which was insane, because you knew he did not exist. Come to think about him now, it was getting harder by the minute to remember his face. You panicked.

Running towards your desk and grabbing a pencil and your notebook, you tried to recreate him on paper, which was a lost battle from the start. Even if you were some doodling genius – you were definitely not – you would never be able to do him justice. You doubted anyone who had ever stepped on this planet, past or present, ever would. It was not the kind of beauty that could be explained or demonstrated, but rather felt. He wasn’t just inhumanely pretty, wings and all. There was something about him that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It may sound cheesy and totally deranged, but you felt whole in those few shared moments, like you knew him your entire life. Your mind didn’t recognize him, but your body did.

Groaning at the piece of paper and throwing the pencil at your baby-blue wall in annoyance, you gave up. It was pointless, his features were already escaping your mind. You didn’t know why you were so hung up on a dream, honestly. Seeing that you were a little riled up, you decided to let it go and just finish getting ready for class. You could see through the window that Taehyung was already waiting for you.

||\\

“So, how did it go?”

He pouted before answering. “It went alright.” Lies, he was a big fat liar.

“C’mon, Marzipan, be honest with me for a second.”

The nickname finally broke him down. “Fine, I hated it. I remember you telling me about every important detail of the subject yesterday, but I couldn’t put it on paper. Plus, why the fuck does he have to elaborate the questions so much? Most of the time I didn’t even understand what was being asked. Literature sucks,” he whined indignantly. You could tell it was taking a toll on him.

“Don’t worry too much about it, okay? I will help you. We’ll both graduate this year, yeah?” you reached his hand on a reassuring squeeze.

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

“Then sure. But you have to take me seriously, Y/N,” he warned you. “No more losing track of time in coffee shops.”

“Hey, I bought you a frappuccino, that incident should be six feet under by now,” you accused and he mumbled a grumpy response.

The both of you spent half of the morning taking the lit test. You thought you did fine, though the questions really were a little bit tricky. Walking side by side with Taehyung, you didn’t notice him at first. But once you realized there were no seats available right next to each other, your eyes eventually landed on his.

“We can’t sit together through this class, we’re too late,” Tae grumbled, trying to get your attention back to himself, but to no avail. “Y/N? Hey!” He flicked your forehead and you yelped.

“Did you just… flick me?” you seethed.

“I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t lusting over the new guy. Who is he, by the way?” If you acknowledged the hint of jealously in his tone, you didn’t show it.

“I was not lusting over anybody,” you huffed.

“If you say so.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Grumpy. Is it because I caught you?” You just snarled and took a seat at the front row, while he chuckled and chose the one in the back.

To be honest, you were lusting a little. Those eyes seemed oddly familiar, though you couldn’t quite put a finger on why. The rest of the day passed by smoothly; you were able to sit with Taehyung for the remaining classes you had together and even helped him a bit with some homework. After a while, your new classmate was nowhere near your mind, despite that funny feeling you got every time you looked at him. Maybe it was because he was stunningly handsome. Who knows? You never cared much about those things, but you were only human.

On your way home with Taehyung, you felt eyes burning on your back. You turned around and found him staring, expression unfathomable. He wore a black lather jacket, jeans and a black shirt, his dark hair beautifully disheveled. He gave you a wanton grin and you scoffed. Well, you knew his type, and it unnerved you to death.

Preppy playboy. Nothing more, nothing less.

He cut off the eye contact abruptly, heading towards a grey motorcycle. No shit, huh? You almost laughed at the predictability. You weren’t exactly into bikes, but that looked expensive. And it suited him perfectly.

“Holy-… do you see that? That’s a Triumph fucking Rocket,” Taehyung gasped, shaking your elbow lightly. “A 2500cc engine capacity Triumph Rocket. Man, his parents must be loaded. That’s not a high schooler’s bike,” he said, almost dreamy. Yeah, you saw that coming from a mile away.

“You talking about the new guy?” You asked nonchalantly, turning your head as you resumed walking.

“Don’t even try to pretend you weren’t ogling just now,” he accused.

“You’re obsessed with our new-found bad boy. Maybe you should date him, Tae,” a snicker left your lips at his appalled expression.

“Shut up,” he pushed your shoulder. “I’m just curious.”

“As in bi-curious?”

“Okay, that’s it, I’m leaving you behind,” he grumbled as he fastened his pace. You chuckled, trying to catch up with his long legs.

When you arrived home, you noticed an attempt of a drawing on top of your bed. It looked like a poorly doodled angel. First things first: though it definitely looked like something made by your hands, you didn’t have any recollection of it, let alone of leaving it on display like that. You looked around, searching for something, but nothing else seemed out of place. Trying to shrug the uneasiness off, you picked some clothes off the wardrobe and went for a warm bath.

||\\

It was a Saturday afternoon, so you planned to do the usual: hit the library and grab some coffee on your way home. Taehyung had promised to watch a movie with you this weekend, but a surprise party to one of his friends came up. He’d invited you to tag along, more out of habit than anything else. Your answer was always the same when he asked you to spend time with his peers; you weren’t even remotely fond of them. They had maybe one functioning braincell and a whole lot of conceit. Not your crowd at all.

“Mom, I’m leaving. Do you need me to get you anything?” You said, already on your way to the front door.

She was sprawled on the couch, gazing attentively at the TV. “No, honey, thank you. Are you going out with Tae?”

“Nope, something came up, we rescheduled. I won’t be long.”

“Okay, then. Be careful!”

“Will do!”, you shouted from the outside.

It was closing time when the sweet old lady had to gently kick you out. You weren’t surprised when you found out your phone was dead; you probably had a billion calls from your mother and, if she was desperate enough, maybe even Taehyung. Letting out a sigh, you grabbed your stuff quickly and waved goodbye to the librarian as you made your way out the door, grumbling to yourself about not being able to pick up some coffee now.

The air was hazy and cold, you couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead, and the streets were oddly empty. You tightened your coat around your body and quickened your pace, not willing to spend more time outside than you needed to. Seeing that all the stores were closed, you realized that Martha (the librarian) probably let you outstay your welcome a little bit. You cursed at the freezing night and your cheap coat. Taehyung was right, you should buy warmer clothes.

Lost in thoughts, you were stupid enough to miss the drunken noises coming from the end of the street. There was a group of three men coming your way and they all seemed to have ingested an unhealthy amount of booze, laughing loudly and pushing each other playfully. You felt cold sweat fall down your spine but just tried to ignore it, hoping that you’d be able to pass them by without being noticed.

“Y/N?” His voice was dragged, and he was tumbling around the words. It was only then you realized they were from your school, the boy in the middle being Jimmy, Taehyung’s drink buddy.

“Hi”, you tried to stay as far away as possible, but the one with the fashionably boring rectangular glasses didn’t let you, hooking his arm around your neck. He reeked of cigarettes and whiskey.

“C’monnn-“ he hiccupped, “don’t you wanna par-tay with-“ another one, “-us?”

You repressed the urge to gag as your pulse quickened.

“Not really. I have to go,” you almost managed to untangle his disgusting arm from you, but he kept it in place, holding you tighter. “Let go of me.”

You were annoyed. And scared to death, to be honest. These boys didn’t exactly live by a moral code, and the four of you were alone in the middle of nowhere. You didn’t trust them.

“Aww, don’t be shy, princess. You’re always so… boring. Makes me curious about what you’ve got going on under all… that.” The last one, Ian, made his way towards you, snickering menacingly. He wasn’t as drunk as the other two, and if you could give a hunch, you’d say he knew exactly was he was doing. That scared you even more. Feeling the brick-wall hit your back, you realized you were cornered, a curse escaping your dry lips.

“Look, I really have to g-“ he cut you off by pressing his body into yours, making you lose your breath for all the wrong reasons. “What the fuck, man?! Let go of me!” You were visibly growing desperate as you tried to punch his face and his chest, but that only earned you a chuckle from him as he held both your wrists with one hand.

“Feisty. I like it.” You almost puked right then and there, the bile stuck in your throat making you scowl. He let his filthy fingers slide down your sides, until he could grope your ass.

Your stomach sank, heart drumming against your ribcage as you held back a whimper.

Okay, think.

Taehyung had taught you the basics about self defense a thousand moons ago. And yet, you realize that it was nothing like the real thing. You balled your clammy fingers tightly, knuckles white as you scanned every corner of your brain to try and find a way out.

“Tae will kill you if you touch me,” your voice trembled. You couldn’t help it.

He laughed whole-heartedly. As if the mere thought was actually funny to him.

“He wouldn’t dare, sweetheart. Besides, I think he actually wouldn’t mind sharing his bitch with us for the night,” he stated. “He’s not using it anyways,” he punctuated with a roll of his hips and, this time, as you felt the pathetic bulge inside his pants, you couldn’t hold back a tiny sob. Because fuck, this was it. There was no way you could take down three grown men on your own.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The voice was low and steady. It made your skin crawl. You snapped your head and looked at the dark haired man standing behind the boys. Ian lazily turned around, still keeping your wrists wrapped tight in his hand.

“None of your business, newbie. Now get out of my sight before I lose my patience.”

When he chuckled, it was different from Ian’s. It was darker, rougher, and concealed a vicious ferocity that you knew was there. You knew because, as he disregarded your aggressor and looked you in the eyes, you almost feared for them.

“Ian, dude, let it go.” Jimmy instantly sobered up and tried to avoid any confrontation. To think he spent time with your best friend but would let Ian harass you without saying a word was disgusting. “Come on, your old man will kill you if you get in trouble again.” So that was his main concern. Still looking out for his shitty, abusive friend. Men’s sorority really is misogyny.

“You should listen to your friend. Believe me, you won’t survive me when I get my hands on you,” he stated matter-of-factly. You felt the sincerity in your bones. And so did Ian and his stupid cavalry. “Leave.”

Ian sighed, but relented. You felt a hot wave of relief as he disconnected his body from yours, leaning on the wall for balance as your legs wabbled.

“You better watch out,” he spits.

“Y/N, I... I’m really sorry,” Jimmy said as he scooped his friends and dragged them away from you. “You too, Min. He’s just drunk. We would’ve stopped him if it got too far.”

He’s lying. You can tell.

“Get the fuck out of my sight,” he growls, his composure faltering for a minute. As they stray out of view, he turns his gaze to you.

“Care to tell me what the hell are you doing walking alone in the middle of the night?”

He’s angry.

You scoffed, adjusting your coat around your shoulders and straightening your back.

“Thank you for the help, but I’m too old for a babysitter,” you say. “Besides, I don’t even know you.”

He looks at you and, as if trying to regain some sense and control a fit of rage, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose before exhaling a long puff of air.

“Alright. My name is Yoongi,” he takes you by surprise as he snatches your wrist in an iron grip, “And I'm fucking walking you home.”

As he drags you across the street, you want to yell at him. You want to tell him to fuck off, you preppy bastard. But you don’t.

Because the truth is, you’re so fucking grateful. God knows what would’ve happened if it wasn’t for him. As he calms down, he drops your hand and slows his pace, allowing you to catch up without having to make an effort. You want to talk, but you choose to stay quiet.

Now that you weren’t so skittish anymore, it finally dawned you how the snow was beautifully spread throughout the streets, the trees, the buildings. Everything that was cool, cold, blue, held some fascination to you. Summer was never really your season – it had always been winter. To be able to curl up on your couch with a warm blanket and a hot cup of coffee, it was heavenly. You always thought that, if you could see the world through a color palette, it would be in different shades of blue.

The snow was not the only thing that you were entranced by, though. Yoongi was, from what you saw so far, much like winter to you. Harsh when needed, cool, but also peaceful and comforting. He didn’t urge you to talk about the incident; he didn’t urge you to talk at all. His mannerisms caught your attention from time to time – how he constantly ran his long fingers through his hair, how his eyes seemed to flutter shut lazily a few times in a row, or how he carried himself so elegantly that it almost made you jealous. He looked terribly familiar, too.

“Why are you staring?” His bluntness caught you off guard, but still couldn’t disturb the peacefulness of the moment.

“Just curious.” It was true. “Apart from the motorcycle and the superhero complex, I don’t know much about you.”

“Well, there’s not much to know.”

You hummed in response. “What are you doing here, then?” You ask, and his feet come to a halt.

“What is this, an interrogation?”

You scoff, and you both start walking again. “Just trying to make conversation. Besides, I’m actually curious,” you ponder. “People don’t move into this town very often,” you kick the snow under your feet. He sighs.

“I’m here with my… brother,” he hesitated before continuing, “he’s my guardian, sort of. We used to move a lot. Work thing.” He couldn’t hold back a grimace, but it disappeared in a second. You wanted to ask about his parents, but felt like you’d be crossing a line, so you kept your curiosity to yourself. “Now you tell me,” he said.

“Tell you what?”

“About yourself. Your family. Whatever you want to.”

“Um, let me see. I live with my mom. We moved from Italy when I was about three years old. My dad… my dad stayed.” You didn’t want to get into it, and he immediately noticed, just nodding for you to continue. “She’s been taking care of me by herself since then.”

He hummed in understanding, sparing you a few glances that you couldn’t quite decipher.

Before you knew, your house was already in sight. You wished you lived farther, just so you could keep that strange interaction on for a little longer.

“Well, this is me,” you announced. Lying about your address had crossed your mind somewhere along the way.

“Sorry if I was a jerk,” he surprised you by saying. You mouth opens and closes a few times before you say anything.

“It’s okay, I guess. I was pretty riled up, too.”

He nodded. “See you Monday, then?” His voice was deep and silky.

“Yeah. Hey, I… I’m glad you showed up when you did.”

“I am, too,” there was a dark undertone in his voice. “Good night, Y/N,” he surprised you by leading his right hand to the top of your head and lightly messing your hair before walking away. You stood still for a minute, until your mother opened the door.

“Y/N?! Darling, why did you take so long? I was so worried!”

“Um… Sorry, mom. I ran into a friend and my phone was off.”

“Well, you should’ve at least borrowed your friend’s phone to let me know, things aren’t like they used to be around these parts anymore, it’s getting pretty danger-“

She kept talking as she let you in, but you couldn’t concentrate. That night, you dreamt of him.

||\\

“(…) Farewell happy fields

Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail

Infernal world, and thou profoundest hell

Receive thy new possessor: one who brings

A mind not to be changed by place or time.

The mind is its own place, and in itself

Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”

You didn’t think of yourself as an early riser, but when Monday morning came, you woke up before the alarm – and seemed almost delighted to do so. To be honest, you really tried to ignore the eagerness to see him again, but to no avail. The day before was thoroughly torturous, flashes of the short period of time you spent together coming back to haunt you now and then. At some point, you were so annoyed that you just lied on the bed and attempted to blast your eardrums off by listening to some crappy rock band at full volume. It didn’t work, obviously, and now you probably had hearing damage. The cons and cons of obsession.

At this exact moment, for the first time in your entire friendship, you were banging on Taehyung’s door first. Because you just couldn’t wait a minute longer.

“Damn it, woman, was is it with you today?” The sound of his voice was muffled. That, or you were going deaf, there was no way to tell for sure.

“You’re going to make us late, Marzipan!” At that, he opened his bedroom door slightly, just enough so you could peek at his disheveled hair and sleepy face.

“It’s dick o’clock in the morning, we have at least forty minutes until we leave,” his voice was rugged and he had an aggrieved look plastered on his pouty face.

“I brought you coffee,” you smiled at him while raising the thermal cup.

“Stop the madness and go wait for me downstairs, Gilmore girl,” he grunted. “Dad probably misses you, the poor old man. Keep him company, will ya?”

“Don’t be silly, Mrs. Kim need his sleep in the morning.”

“Then shut up and don’t wake him,” he grunted, closing the door shut, but it took him just a second to reopen it. “Wait, if dad’s asleep, how did you get in?”

“I, uh… Might or might not know that you keep a spare key inside the porcelain elf’s hat,” your lips tugged upwards sheepishly.

“Of course you do, you little imp. I’ll be down in a sec,” he grumbled and shut the door again.

Taehyung had asked you a couple of times why you were so anxious to get to school that morning, but you just brushed it off with an excuse that you knew he wouldn’t buy. There were several reasons as to why you wanted to keep things to yourself for now. Mainly, it was because you were afraid that he’d be furious enough to break Ian’s face in front of everybody once you told him the whole story. Not that you felt any sympathy, but rather that you didn’t want Tae to get in trouble. You’d tell him as soon as you could, though. You didn’t care for the idea of him being friends – or whatever they were – with Jimmy.

As soon as you stepped into school ground, you discreetly searched for his motorcycle in the parking lot. It wasn’t there. You tried not to let the disappointment show on your face, but you couldn’t help it. He didn’t come today. Who cares? As much as you wanted to force some sense into your stubborn brain, you were still hoping he’d show up, even if you didn’t talk to each other. You just wanted to see him, is all. Great time to start acting like a stupid teenager, Y/N. Kudos.

You were in the middle of a pretty heated argument with yourself as you entered the classroom. Taehyung picked a desk in the middle, as he usually did when the both of you were able to sit next to each other. You were almost putting your stuff down at his side when something caught your attention. There. You felt a girlish jolt of excitement when you saw Yoongi sitting at the last row. His silky black hair was damped, probably from the shower, and he was wearing a black, long sleeved shirt, v cut. You were about to divert your eyes, but then he stared right at your face and calmy removed his bag from the chair next to his. He smirked, as if defying you to take a seat. Annoying little piece of-

“Tae, do you mind if I sit somewhere else today?”

“What?” He looked at you, confused. “Where do you want us to…” Your eyes flashed to the end of the room and he followed your gaze. “What? Why would you-”

“Do you mind?”

“Uh… No?”

“Okay, great. See you soon.” You knew Taehyung was confused, so you should probably be thinking of what to tell him when this class was over. But for now, you just carried yourself to the empty spot in the back. Yoongi was looking at you with an amused expression, hiding his little smile behind his intertwined hands. You wanted to wash that smug off his face so bad. You took a seat and his scent assaulted you, warm and musky. Almost irresistible. You saw Taehyung from across the room gazing at the both of you with an inscrutable countenance.

“Is your boyfriend mad that you sat with me today?” He audaciously asked.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I see. Must be hard, then,” he looked almost sympathetic.

“What?” Your face contorted into confusion.

“Nevermind. Tell me how was your Sunday,” he said while opening his notebook and doodling something you couldn’t decipher yet.

“So we’re friends now?”

“Pretty much.”

“Shouldn’t you ask me first?” You lifted your brow.

“You’re bossy today.”

You were about to give him a proper answer when the teacher barged in, almost breathless. As the class began, focusing on Hess’s Law was your main priority, it really was. But you couldn’t help the tingle crawling up your skin every time he unintentionally bumped his arm into yours, because he was still drawing, keeping his head down since Mrs. Edwards started talking. Still, you couldn’t move. No. Focus. You held onto the edge of your desk with one hand, knuckles white, as you kept the other taking notes on the subject.

“Relax,” he softly whispered, not taking his eyes away from his notebook. You immediately loosened the tight grip of your left hand.

“I’m relaxed,” you lied, imitating his tone. He chuckled, lifting his head to show you the most beautiful gummy smile. God, why was he so distractingly handsome? His soft, pale skin, his cat-like eyes. His hands, Lord, you wouldn’t even dwell on his hands. Everything about him was appealing, alluring. His voice, his smell, his gaze. He was devilish.

All of a sudden, he ripped off the page he was working on. You tried not to get even more distracted, keeping your eyes on the board, until he touched your arm with his hand. You tensed. “Here, keep this if you want to,” he said, passing the folded paper to you. Curiosity washed over your face and you were about to unfold it, but he stopped you. “I don’t think you should open it now.”

“Why? Is it, like, an erotic sketch?” You could tell you broke his demeanor a little, he seemed both shocked and amused.

“I wonder if that kind of thought crosses your brain very often. You’re filthy, Y/N,” he smirked. You almost choked at his tone and his words. He was teasing you, and you refused to go down without a fight.

“Well, I don’t exactly know you, do I? You could be a perv.” He bit back a chuckle.

“I’m an honorable man. You’ll see.”

“Will I, now?”

“Yes. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

“You haven’t convinced me yet.”

“Challenge accepted.” The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, then the bell rang. He grabbed his stuff and got up, then tilted his head and asked, “Do you want a ride… friend?”

“I thought you didn’t ride here today.” Confusion stained his expression before he realized the meaning behind your words. You could see the enlightenment in his face and suddenly banging your head on a wall wasn’t all too bad. He was too cocky for his own good, and now you’ve just made it worse. Way to go.

“I parked on a different spot,” he responded.

“Yeah, sure. Uh, anyways… Thanks for the offer, but I’m going home with Tae.”

“Suit yourself.” Before walking away, he turned around and said, “I’ll save you a seat tomorrow, Y/N.” Before you could elaborate an answer, he was already out the door, and Taehyung was in front of you with that ‘what-the-actual-fuck’ face he made every time he was caught off guard.

“I’ll explain on the way home,” you sighed.

||\\

You were both in the safety of your bedroom when you told Taehyung everything. From how Ian tried to do God knows what with you, to why he wasn’t able to. Pure luck. It was pure luck that Yoongi happened to be passing by, and it was pure luck that he’d bothered to check what was going on. You told him Jimmy was there. You saw the guilt and rage clawing their way to his chest, and there it was; the reason you were wary to tell him in the first place. Taehyung was explosive, a force of nature when he let himself indulge.

“I’ll kill him. Why did you hide that from me?” Even though he was trying his best to hold back, you could still tell how furious he truly was. “Answer me, Y/N, I’m not fucking around here,�� he didn’t mean for it to sound like a scold, but it still did.

“I knew you’d be mad,” you retorted.

“Of course I’d be fucking mad. I don’t think you understand just how mad I am.”

“I know. Tae, really, nothing serious happened. It’s not worthy getting yourself in trouble for it.”

“How can you even say that?” he barked.

“Promise me you’ll let it go,” you asked softly.

He looked like he’d just heard the worst profanity fall from your lips. “I don-“

“Promise, Tae,” you were using your serious voice now, the one you used to tell him that no, it was not okay for him to mess with your books back when you were kids. You took it to the heart too often. He stared at you for a moment or two before sighing.

“Okay,” he grudgingly said. “If that’s what you want.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said after a moment.

“It’s not your fault. Really, it’s not.”

“I know. I’m just… sorry,” he let his head rest on your lap. You hummed and stroke his hair for a while. These little moments of utter understanding and peace was one of the reasons he was your best friend. The person you could rely on, always. And he could always rely on you, too.

||\\

A few weeks passed you by in the blink of an eye. After the infamous events of that night, you and Yoongi grew closer each day. Not that it was always easy, he was infuriating at times; you had to be sharp to keep up with the incessant bickering. But, for what it’s worth, you were able to gather that he was much more than just a little shit, even though he tried to deny it.

And you suppose that’s one of the reasons to why your stomach flutters and your heart skips a couple of beats when he gets too close.

Probably a month too late, you come across that piece of paper Yoongi had mysteriously given you the first morning you sat together. You took it in your hands with a gasp and carefully unfolded it, taking a sharp intake of breath at the drawing. It was a pair of eyes – your eyes, perfectly detailed by strong, yet delicate, traces. It was beautiful and left no room for doubts as to whose they were. The cocky bastard was actually pretty talented, you had to give him that. Before you had much time to think about it, your phone rang. You hesitated a moment before picking up, the number was unknown.

“Hello?”

“Did you like it?” The voice on the other line was coarse and drawn, and you recognized it immediately.

“How did you get my number?” You asked while laying yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

He had become a constant whenever you were at school or at the library. Nothing beyond that. The call was a pleasent surprise.

“I have my ways. Will you answer at least one of my questions anytime soon?” There was a hint of a boyish amusement in his tone, and that instantly made you lighter. You liked him better in a good mood.

“You don’t answer any of mine, so why should I bother?” You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see you.

“That’s hardly fair. What do you want to know, George?”

You scoffed at the nickname. “First things first. I want to know how you got my number.”

“It’s not so hard to get privileged information on the students’ personal data if you’re charming enough. Ms. Parker has a soft spot for me.” Of course. You should’ve seen it coming.

“You’re shameless,” you scolded half-heartedly, taking a plushie in your hands and squeezing it.

“It’s one of my many qualities. So, can you answer me now?”

“Hmm… I might’ve liked it,” you stated, referring to the book he’d recommended. “But you’re already a pretty conceited man, so I should probably spare you the details.”

He was silent for a while, and you almost mention the drawing you found in your backpack. But then, he’s talking again. “So you think I’m pretty, huh?”

“Are you… Have you-“ you stammered in astonishment and he chuckled. “Do you actually select the words you want to hear?” you asked and he hummed.

“Where are you?”

“Home,” you answered without much thought.

“I’ll pick you up in ten. Be ready.”

“Wait, what?” You jolted out of the bed, dropping the plushie on the floor. “You can’t just… decide that. What if I’m busy?”

“You’re not.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“But you do,” He sounded almost confused. And he was right, you did want to. Somewhere deep inside your brain there was a voice saying that you should’ve objected at least a little bit more. But, against your better judgement, you kept quiet, and soon enough your silence gave you away. “I’m hanging up now. See you soon, George.” You meant to talk back to him, but he’d already ended the call. That, arrogant, insolent, contemptuous jer-

Before finishing that thought, you remembered you didn’t have much time. So you took a five minute shower, put on a little mascara and went out of the bathroom to find something to wear. There wasn’t enough time to go wild, so you just went for your favorite pair of mom jeans and tucked a burgundy sweater in. After brushing your hair and your teeth, you were ready.

As soon as you were done, you heard a horn and rushed to the window. There he was, in all his glory, hips resting against his stupidly cool Triumph Rocket. Black boots, black jeans, black long-neck shirt and his usual leather jacket. Wonder what his favorite color might be, you scoffed. He shot you a smirk that made you hold your breath for a moment. It now occurred to you that you had no idea as to where he was taking you. Also, was it a date? A friend thing? Shit. You should’ve said no. You sighed. It was too late now.

Before running downstairs, you sprayed a little bit of perfume on the nape of your neck and your wrists. Chloé, your signature scent.

“I’m going out for a bit.”

She was sitting by the window with a hot beverage on her hands and a book on her lap. Like mother, like daughter.

“Last time you said that…”

“I know,” you cut her off gently. “But I have class tomorrow. I promise I won’t be long.”

“Is your phone charged, young lady?”

“Yep, it is.”

“Then call me if anything happens, alright?”

“Sure thing. Bye, mom,” you gave her a brief peck on the forehead and rushed out the door.

He was waiting for you at the porch, even more breathtaking now that you could see him up close. His musky scent was stronger and his pale skin was glowing. He was drinking you in with mysteriously piercing eyes.

“Come,” he said, taking you by the hand.

“Where are we going anyway?” you asked. As the both of you approached his motorcycle, you were trying your best not to trip.

“You’ll see.” He took a helmet off a compartment that you didn’t know to exist and cupped your face to hold you still before he put it on you.

“Is this like a Hitchcock movie? Will you take me just far enough so I can meet my fate by the end of the night?” A hint of dread crossed his features, but he composed himself soon enough.

“Do you believe in fate, Y/N?” He asked, fixing the straps under your chin, his fingers setting your skin aflame.

“I don’t know,” you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but his countenance urged you to provide a proper answer. “Faith is just not my strong suit, I guess,” you mumbled.

Yoongi pondered about what you said for a moment. “Hold that thought, yeah?” Then he climbed the vehicle. “Hop on,” he started the engine. You were now too aware of the fact that you had never ‘hopped on’ one of those. “Don’t worry, I’m a really good driver,” he tugged his lips upwards.

“I just… I’ve never done this.”

“What, ride a motorcycle?” He asked and you nodded. “Trust me. I wouldn’t let anything happen,” he reassured you.

I know. So you climbed the damn thing and held tight onto his waist, almost comforted by his warmth. He felt the sensitive skin on his back crawl at the contact. Especially between his shoulder blades.

||\\

You spent the entire ride with your eyes closed. If you had any doubt that Yoongi was a mad man, those god-knows-how-many minutes on the back of his motorcycle had erased them completely. He was going fast. You could feel the wind ricocheting your face relentlessly, and every time he had to make a turn, your stomach fluttered. Sometimes, he turned his head just a little bit, as if checking if you were at least breathing, but you would grit your teeth and snap at him to look ahead, tightening your grip. You could feel him chuckle, his whole upper body being assaulted by small tremors.

But when you finally arrived at your destination, it was all worth it.

“Do you like it?” Expectation washed all over his ethereal features.

“Do I… like it? It’s amazing,” your eyes sparkled with wonder and astonishment at the sight of the ocean. You were at a relatively high spot, like a small cliff, and you could smell the delicious salty breeze that you adored so much. But what truly amazed you, what really took your breath away, was the electric blue lights sparkling all over the wave crests. “Bioluminescence! How did you find this place? Can we go down?” You asked with the biggest smile, a childish excitement seeping through your tone. He giggled, the most magnificent, angelic sound you had ever heard.

“I’d rather if we didn’t. I don’t want you to meet your fate at those slippery rocks, it wouldn’t be very Hitchcock-y,” he joked. You felt a bit disappointed but chose to let it go. The night, the sea, the sky; it was all too beautiful for you to allow yourself to be petty.

He took a few steps ahead and sat closer to the edge, wind whisking his hair and making his catlike eyes narrow. You followed suit, sitting in lotus by his side. You both took a minute to appreciate the sight, falling into a comfortable silence, that was soon broken by his husky voice.

“I come here a lot when I need to remind myself of who I am. Of where I’m from,” he said, still looking at the waters below, eyebrows furrowed. “I never thought of bringing anyone else here before.”

“So why did you?” Your voice was small, whispered.

“I don’t know. I guess…” he stopped for a moment. “I possibly just wanted to make sure you were okay. And I don’t know any place else that feels more like home to me. Perhaps I also wanted to share it with you.” Then he turned his gaze to you, eyes reflecting the moonlight. He was divine, bewitching. Especially now, when he seemed to be opening up to you for the first time. You felt your heartbeat speed up at his confession.

“Thank you,” you said softly, diverting your gaze to the waves. “I can understand why you’re so fond of this place. It’s blissful, feels like heaven.”

He humms, fixing his gaze on the crashing waves above you.

“Y/N.” He was surveying your face now, as if trying to read you. Expectant.

“Yes?”

“Do you believe in heaven?” His voice is a whisper and, for a moment, you wonder if you’d heard him correctly.

That was probably the last question you’d expected from him, it took you completely by surprise. You inhaled deeply, searching for the right words, but ended up blurting what first came to mind.

“For all I know, heaven is here. Hell, too. I want to be better, yes, for the people I love. I want to be better for whoever needs me to be, because I know how tough this can get. If there’s an afterlife… at least I’ll know that I tried to be good for the right reasons. So yeah, let’s say I don’t dwell on it. Whatever happens, happens.”

By the time you finished talking, there was something sparkling deep inside his onyx eyes that you couldn’t recognize.

“That’s sort of refreshing,” and there it was again. The sheepish gummy smile you adored so much, so utterly genuine and divine you thought you’d die.

“What about you?”

“Yes. Heaven, Hell, the whole ordeal. Except for God.”

“But… How would it be possible for all those things to exist without God?”

“That is not what I said,” he let out a humorless little chuckle. “Let it suffice that God is… I believe, much too real. Just not how humankind paint him to be. I believe God exists; I just don’t believe in him. Not anymore.” His tone was raw and melancholic. You ached with the need to console him, because he seemed adrift; and that bothered you more than it should.

Without realizing, your face had gotten closer to his, and suddenly he was all over the place. All you could see, smell, hear, it was all him. He must have known, because then he traced your features lightly with his long, graceful fingers. You thought that was it. That was heaven.

You closed your eyes so you could savor every second of it, heartbeat going wild and butterflies assaulting your stomach. He lifted his other hand, and now he was cupping your face gingerly, like you were made of glass. Every touch ignited something foreign and glorious inside of you.

He shifted, moving closer, and his scent hit you, unyielding, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes. When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was enough to set something off, and your hands made their way to his neck on their own as you let out a shaky breath. You pressed yourself harder and sucked on his bottom lip, before caressing it with the tip of your tongue, earning a groan from him.

Well, shit.

He took the hair in the nape your neck in a dainty – yet firm – fistful, asking permission with his tongue to deepen the kiss. There was no denying him, you could never. His taste, God, you could spend eternity tasting every single bit of him. When he licked past your teeth, you moaned, and it was so utterly pleasing, sinful, that he felt compelled to go harder, mercilessly swirling his tongue inside your mouth. There was no room to breathe, the neediness for one another unbending.

You don’t know how much time you spent in that haze of mind-numbing desire, but neither of you dared to stop. Until your phone rang.

You jerked away, pupils blown wide from the intensity of the moment, skin flushed. You were both panting, eyes trained on each other, searching, scrutinizing, waiting for a reaction. His reddened, glistening lips were parted slightly and he seemed displeased to cut the moment short. Even so, he managed to talk.

“You should probably get that,” he gusted, trying to catch his breath. You couldn’t find it in yourself to do anything but nod.

You took the device out of your back pocket and checked the ID caller, brows furrowing. He mirrored your expression.

“Who is it?”

“It’s a girl from school. We have history class together. That’s… odd,” you said. You and Sarah have never had a real conversation, one that didn’t involve Napoleon or Julien Sorel. You just had her number saved because of a paper you had to do together a while ago. “Hello?”

“Y/N? Thank God,” she sounded truly relieved. “Look, I’m sorry to bother you but… We’re at the school’s gym and-“ she let out a loud gasp, and only then you noticed the noise in the background, an uproar of voices and… Did you did hear a punch?

“Sarah? What is it?”

“Tae’s here. Y/N, you should come…”

Your blood ran cold.

“What? Is he okay? Sarah, tell me what’s going on. Now,” you blurted, already standing, missing the way Yoongi’s face contorted in confusion and concern.

“We tried to stop them, we really did, I-“

“Sarah,” you grunted.

“Okay, yeah. Him and Ian are at each other’s throats right now, it’s pretty bad. Y/N, I don’t think it’ll be long before someone calls the cops. I just thought I’d let you know, ‘cause-“

“I’ll be there in a minute,” you cut her off, and then hang up.

You were a lot of things at that moment, but mostly worried and angry. You had told him not to, you had told him to let it go, and he went behind your back. You heart rate was through the roof, adrenaline rushing through your veins. But this time, it wasn’t out of passion.

“Y/N,” Yoongi had a wary look on his face. “Tell me.”

“Can you take me back? Tae’s in trouble.”

||\\

He hadn’t meant to. He really hadn’t meant to break his promise, but he knew it was bound to be broken the minute he made it. The idea of someone else touching you was torturous enough, but to think of them doing it without your consent actually drove him crazy with rage. Those unbidden images of you scared, asking that piece of shit to stop, only for him to hold you tighter, closer, wrapping his filthy hands around you… it wouldn’t stop coming to him, even though he’d tried his hardest to restrain them. It had haunted him ever since you told him. He felt sick. He hated himself for not being there for you, with you. Like the disgraceful best friend he was, he’d canceled movie night to get wasted. Ugly feelings, even the ones he didn’t care to admit, pierced their sharp claws at his chest. Guilt, exasperation, jealously.

He’d tried to suppress the bitterness from watching you with the new guy, he tried to be just glad that he was there and hold out against it, because if he wasn’t… The point is: he really tried. But the way you looked at him made Taehyung’s stomach sink. He’d never seen it before, and he craved it like a man in the desert did a single drop of water. He wanted to be on the receiving end of that gaze more than anything.

He’d go mad if he stayed inside, so he went out for a jog. Your mother had told him you weren’t home, and he figured you’d be at the coffee shop near school. What a big surprise it was when he found Ian next to a blue SUV that was parked near the gymnasium. He choked out a chuckle; it was just too tempting. Rage boiled trough his veins, and at that moment he knew he couldn’t hold back. He couldn’t not break that scumbag in half, even if that meant he’d be going against your wishes.

So he did. Every punch, given or taken, satisfied him little by little. Because he also deserved to be punished, he thought.

||\\

“What was that shit that you pulled? After I explicitly told you to stay out of it! Why now?”

Taehyung had a bloody nose, a deep cut just above his eyebrow and some pretty ugly purple spots all over his upper body, staining his previously pristine skin. When you and Yoongi had arrived at school, you discovered he’d been taken. By a police officer, nonetheless.

You’d been so mad. But now that he was in front of you, all screwed up in torn clothes, the speech you had prepared escaped your mind. You just couldn’t understand his impulsiveness, and the fact that he was in a tiny, smelly cell because of you was infuriating.

“We both knew it was bound to happen eventually, so I figured rather sooner than later,” he answered nonchalantly.

“Taehyung,” you said through gritted teeth

“What, Y/N?!” He snapped. “You wanted me to let him get away with it?”

“Yes! Yes, I literally told you that that’s what I wanted!”

“Well, too bad,” he darkly said. He knew he was in the wrong here. But he was just too riled up to think straight.

“Okay,” you said, taking a sharp intake of breath while running your fingers through your hair, “Okay, let’s be practical about this. Your dad is coming, right? We can talk about it at home.”

“Fine,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

“Fine,” you, too, knew how to be petty. “I’ve got to go outside for a minute. Behave,” your gaze flashed to an officer for a second, but quickly made its way back to Taehyung. When you realized he wouldn’t give you an answer, you just sighed and carried yourself out the door.

As soon as you stepped out of the threshold, you saw Yoongi leaning on his motorcycle, arms crossed and head hanging from his shoulders. You didn’t know what tonight had meant. You wanted to at least try to figure out if he felt the same as you did, but you had bigger problems. And to be honest, you’d rather sleep on it. It was all too intense and hazy.

“Hey,” you said, walking slowly towards him. He lifted his head and offered a tiny smile.

“Your boyfriend really hates my guts, doesn’t he?”

“He’s not-“ you cut yourself off when you realized he was just messing with you again. Of course he is, he stuck his tongue down your throat just an hour ago. “Anyways. I guess Tae will be out in a couple of hours, but I have to stay here and wait for Mr. Kim. Thank you for… tonight.”

He nodded. “No problem, George. I’ll call y-“

Suddenly, his eyebrows knitted together and his whole body tensed as he straightened himself. If you ever told anyone about this, you’d probably be admitted in a mental facility. But you swore that, for an instant, his eyes changed colors, going from pitch black to a deep violet. It happened in a heartbeat, and then he wasn’t looking at you anymore, but at something past your shoulder. You felt a chill run down your spine as you turned around to see what caught his attention.

A tall, broad-shouldered man was walking towards you. As his lean figure got closer, the tension grew almost palpable, and you could see from afar he had a small smile plastered on his plump lips. But it wasn’t comforting at all. Instead, it was vile, almost sadistic. Your head snapped to Yoongi again, and you saw how he didn’t move a muscle, fists closed tight and jaw clenched. That made you panic a little.

“Yoongi, what-“

“Y/N, go inside,” his voice was hoarse and restrained, like he hadn’t talked in weeks.

No, you wanted to say. That man, whoever he was, screamed bad news. He walked like a predator, and you felt like his prey. Though your self-preservation instincts were going wild with every step he took, something stronger made you want to stay. You knew he wasn’t here for you, but for him. And that sparked a need to protect him that you didn’t know to exist, nor where it came from. However, you just kept quiet and waited for the man to catch up, not missing the murderous aura emitted from Yoongi.

At last, he stood in front of you, reddish hair and twisted smirk still on his face. You could see him clearly now, and he was beautiful. The kind of beauty you’ve only seen once.

“Has anyone actually pressed charges this time, little brother?” His voice was deceivingly soft.

Brother?

“How did you find me?” Yoongi asked with an icy voice that almost made you shudder.

“Is that how you greet your elders? Father would not be pleased.”

“Well, you’re one to talk, aren’t you?”

“People are still hung up on that, I see,” the man chuckled. “Yoongi-ah,” he said, his feet taking him closer at a slower pace. Yoongi kept his ground, knuckles white from his balled-up fists, while you instinctively took a step back. That’s when they both seemed to acknowledge your presence. Yoongi’s eyes bulged slightly, his pale skin becoming ever paler, while the other wore an unreadable expression on his face.

“I told you to go inside,” he almost growled, taking your wrist in an iron grip and pulling you to stand behind his back. You didn’t understand. You didn’t understand any of it. Why did he seem so threatened by his own blood? The man was scary, sure, but was he actually dangerous? Your head was spinning, so you held onto his jacket to keep yourself vertical.

“Were you not planning on introducing me to your friend, baby brother? That’s just rude, you know how much I love meeting new people.”

“I’d advise you to be careful now, Jin.” The threat in Yoongi’s low voice was noticeable even to you, but Jin didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he relished on it. His little brother didn’t get all protective over just anyone, and the fact that he didn’t want the eldest to know about you pointed straight to a weak spot. One which he intended to take full advantage of.

“Easy, Prince, no need to get riled up,” Jin chuckled again, lifting both hands in a sign of peace. “What do you take me for?”

“Neither of us can deny your nature, can we, brother? It’s the reason why we’re here in the first place.”

“It’s true. Have you told her your name yet? Since you appear very comfortable sharing such details in front of her.”

“What are you doing here? I thought I had made myself clear the last time we saw each other,” Yoongi changed the subject, hoping you wouldn’t pay much attention to his question.

Jin’s face turned serious for the first time before he spoke. “They approached me, Yoongi-ah. It would seem that they need their Flam-“

“Quit it!” Yonngi growled. “Hold your tongue, I don’t want to hear any of it. You need to go.”

“Not until I have delivered my message.” The well-proportioned man stood his ground.

Yoongi took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He could not have this kind of conversation in front of you – in front of anyone, for that matter. Jin was breaking the rules; an old habit of his. “Then I need you to wait for me at home. I suppose you already know where I live, don’t you? I’ll meet you there soon.”

“Alright then. Y/N, it was splendid meeting you. I do hope I get to see you again soon.”

Yoongi scowled as he watched Jin turn on his heels and disappear in the night. For all he knew, Jin would never get this close to you ever again. He was caught off guard today. He then turned around, black orbs scrutinizing you for a reaction.

There were many things going through your mind at that exact moment. Too many questions, he could tell. You looked at him in a grimace of confusion and horror.

“How did he know my name?” That was the first thing that popped into your mind. You hadn’t said your name, neither did Yoongi. “And who’s ‘they’? And did he really just call you prince? Is that a pet name or something?” You blurted out, sensing you wouldn’t have too much time to elaborate the questions the way you wanted to.

He looked into your eyes, face contorted in what you could only describe as a desperate hesitation, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a fine line. He was pondering his options. You knew that because, when he made up his mind, you could clearly see the taint of resolution.

“I can’t answer your questions,” he muttered.

“Why not?”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. Please, just forget about this. All of it.”

“What are you talking about?” you were on the brink of losing it at this point. First Taehyung, and now this. He wasn’t making any sense. But his eyes spoke to you in ways he couldn’t. Only then, you understood. “No,” you said with a resolution of your own. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Listen, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me right away, whatever it is, just don-“

“Y/N.”

“Yes?!”

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Listen to me just this once,” he groaned, stepping into your personal space. He twisted your hair in one hand, holding your face securely to his. When he rested his forehead on yours, your eyes gave into his wishes, closing on their own. “I’ll be gone for a little while, George,” your breath hitched, but you didn’t interrupt him. He gave you a light peck on the mouth, lips soft and moist, breath hot on your face. “I have to settle some things straight. Be good for me while I’m gone, yeah? Don’t do anything stupid,” he frowned.

“Will you come back?” your voice almost cracked, ‘cause you weren’t so sure of his answer. You felt foolish. You’ve only known him for a short period of time, after all. But the intensity of your feelings, though you couldn’t discern them clearly yet, scared you.

This felt horribly like goodbye – it was, at least for now – and you hated it.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” you answered straight away.

“Alright,” he nodded. “Then I will.”

You didn’t dare open your eyes when he stepped away from you after one last chaste peck on your lips, nor when you heard him start the engine of his Triumph. But when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, you jolted slightly and your eyes fluttered open.

“Let’s get you inside, kid” Mr. Kim said softly, brushing away a lonesome tear from your cheek. “Then you can help me scold my boy for making us come all the way to the police station on a school day, how does that sound?” he tried to uplift your spirit, and you offered him a half-hearted smile.

||\\

“Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;

And in the lowest deep a lower deep

Still threatening to devour me opens wide,

To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.

Oh then at last relent: is there no place

Left for repentance, none for pardon left?”

It’d been four weeks since the last time you saw him. A whole month since he’d disappeared completely. At first, you waited anxiously for him to reappear out of nowhere. For him to just slide into the classroom, like he’d done the first time. But as time passed by and the third week came, you grew worried. He didn’t get specific about how much time it would take for him to do whatever it was, but you imagined it would be one, maybe two weeks. But now, a month later, you were beginning to wonder if he’d even come back at all. If something had happened, if he was okay…

No. He promised.

You’d rather not dwell on the possibility of something going wrong – hell, you didn’t even know what he was doing or what was that strange conversation he had with his deviant brother in front of the police station. You had a few theories, though. Not that you’d ever utter them out loud.

Number one: mafia. Maybe not The Godfather sort of thing, since that seemed pretty outdated, but rather… Scarface, perhaps? So you had come up with the idea of Jin being a druglord; nothing more, nothing less. It made sense, to be honest.

Number two: well, number two wasn’t exactly clear on your mind, but had something to do with super rich parents and an insane heritage. He could be the prince of an empire, right? You didn’t know anything about his family, except that his brother was blood-curdling.

You just wished to keep your head in the right place until he explained the situation to you. If he explained, that is. Sighing, you tried to contain your derailed thoughts and get back to the real world, where Taehyung needed you to pay attention to Mamma Mia! for the nth time.

“Alright, that’s it. You didn’t even sing along during S.O.S and that’s where I draw the line,” he said, taking the remote from your hand and pausing the movie. It was a cozy night and you were both plopped on the couch wearing socks and sweatpants.

“When have I ever sang along during S.O.S, Tae?”

“I remember it vividly, we were eleven. But that’s not the point,” he retorted. You bit your lip and kept your eyes trained on the frozen screen of the TV, already sensing where this was going. “You’ve been like this for a while now.”

“Like what?” you pushed, trying to feign innocence. You were not in the mood for this right now. You just wanted to stare unseeingly at the TV and have some private time with your own thoughts until the movie was over.

He sighed. “Look, I can only guess what’s going on,” he scowled, but tried to compose his features into a serene mask before speaking again. “But I need you to not be in your own head for a minute.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I want to help,” he said, taking your hand in his. The touch was warm and familiar.

“I know, Marzipan,” another sigh. You took your hand from his carefully and got up. “I’m going to the store, you want something?”

“What, now? Y/N-“

“I just-, I need coffee and snacks if we’re pulling this off. If you want me to keep my eyes opened during Moulin Rouge, that is,” you pointed out matter-of-factly

Taehyung shifted in his seat, face contorted in confusion, wariness and a hint of hurt. “Do you want me to go with you? It’s late.”

“No, it’s fine. You can stay and plan ahead, I’m sure we’re not stopping at the next one.”

He watched you silently while you fumbled for your keys. When you found them, he muttered: “Don’t be too long.”

“I won’t.”

As soon as you crossed the threshold, the cold air of the night hit your skin, making you shiver slightly. You closed the door and hid your hands in the pockets of your sweater, bringing it closer to your body in a poor attempt to keep the warmth from escaping.

Walking towards the convenience store located a couple of blocks from your house, you let yourself get lost in headspace again. You knew you weren’t being fair to Taehyung. As much as you wanted to talk about this situation with him, you couldn’t. It felt like betraying someone who hadn’t even put their trust in you to begin with. Yes, it was unfair, and maybe you were being a shitty friend every time he tried to have a serious conversation about the subject and you brushed him off with an excuse, like getting coffee in the middle of the night.

You sighed, not really willing to wallow in guilt tonight, and just tried to focus on your immediate task. One step after the other, then one more, and you could already see the lights of a tiny single shop, the only one opened this late at night. It belonged to Mr. Newton, a sweet old baker who treated you kindly every time he was filling up for his cashier.

You entered the store and heard the little bell announce your arrival. Much to your surprise, Mr. Newton was working there that night. As he saw your expression of detachment, he frowned. So you tried to arrange your features in a polite smile before speaking.

“Hello, Mr. Newton.”

“Y/N, child, why are you wandering alone when it’s already this late?” he asked softly, though clearly concerned for your safety.

“Don’t worry, sir,” you answered, walking towards the cooler where they kept the iced coffee and taking two in one hand, as you went for the chips next. “Tae and I needed a little snack. Movie night.”

He nodded and you placed the items on the counter for him to scan.

“Well, then. Tell that kid to come by whenever he can. My wife wants to send some essential oils for Mr. Kim’s aromatherapy sessions,” just as he’d said it, he got a bit closer to you, as if the next words to come out of his mouth were a secret. “Truth is, she misses him. The boy is the only one who can stand her cooking.”

Despite being moody, you chuckled wholeheartedly. No one could be indifferent to Taehyung’s charms, it seemed.

“Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”

As you went through your wallet to pay the old man, you heard the little bell once again. Mr. Newton greeted the new client, but you were too engrossed in finding the right bills to snap your head in the newcomer’s direction. However, the inquisitive sound that left the old man caused you to steal a glimpse, catching auburn hair and broad shoulders in their wake. You stood still for a moment, trying to recall why those locks seemed so familiar. Until it hit you.

“Jin?” you breathed, not loud enough for anyone in the store to actually hear you. Just as you muttered his name, he closed the door and turned left, disappearing from your sight. You gasped. “Keep the change, Mr. Newton!” you said – audibly, this time – leaving a ten dollar bill on the counter and grabbing your stuff as gracefully as you could muster, rushing to the door like your life depended on it.

“No running in the store, kid!” he tried to scold you, but could already feel the cool breeze as you opened the door and looked around, expecting to find his brother. Only this time around you weren’t scared, no. You wanted answers, heart beating fast at the possibility of hearing from Yoongi, maybe even seeing him… Okay, no, not the time for this, first things first.

When you realized he was nowhere to be found, you ran. Left. He went left. You passed by a few houses and almost tripped on a stray cat, turning your head to the side to check on it and apologizing profusely as you picked up your pace again. A few blocks later, you were already out of breath. You came to a halt and put both hands on your knees, gasping and feeling your lungs burn.

Trying to ease your labored breathing, you realized that you were probably going crazy. A halfhearted chuckle escaped your parted lips. You were disappointed, even if actually meeting the redhead meant trouble. Trying not to let frustration and melancholy get the best of you, you decided to just let it go and head back home. Even if it was Jin, he probably wouldn’t tell you anything anyway.

||\\

The snow under your feet was slippery as you got out of the library, leather backpack and navy-blue beanie on. You held a large cappuccino on one hand, careful not to spill it as you dodged passers-by and umbrellas every now and then. The streets were a little crowded that afternoon, and you were dying to get home and relish on Mrs. D’Angelis’ famous chicken noodle soup. Maybe she’d even grant you a warm glass of wine if you asked properly. You tried to occupy your mind with ordinary, day-to-day thoughts, trying to ignore the flutter on the pit pf your stomach.

During that entire week, you were constantly under the impression that something was off. When you were going to school with Taehyung, or grocery shopping for your mother, there was always that tingling feeling on the nape of your neck that told you that someone was watching. Then you’d turn around and nothing. No one was ever there. The uneasiness was uncomfortable, but you didn’t feel endangered, just really jittery. And your motto was: no better medicine for anxiety than tons of caffeine.

“Mom, I’m home!” you crooned, taking your coat off and discarding the empty thermal cup.

“In the kitchen, honey!”

The smell was splendid. You took a deep breath, already yearning for the hot meal, and kissed your mother on the cheek while she stirred… something.

“Uh, smells nice,” you praised, making your way to the fridge for a glass of water. “I’m shocked Tae hasn’t come knocking on our door yet. Maybe his flair is broken because of the flu.”

“Is Taehyungie sick, honey? Why didn’t you tell me?” she almost whined.

“It’s nothing, just a bit of phlegm. But I’ll take some of these,” you pointed to the pots, “for him and his dad later.”

“You really should. Now go upstairs and change before dinner.”

You mumbled a response and climbed the stairs to put on some good old band t-shirt and sweatpants. You didn’t notice the broad-shouldered frame behind the door, and as soon as you closed it behind you, you felt a cold hand covering your mouth, while the other held you in place by the waist. Your whole body tensed, eyes bulged and breath hitched. Fuck. You were prepared to let out a loud scream, but his whispered voice stopped you.

“It’s me, it’s me,” he shushed you. As a reflex, your muscles relaxed. “Gonna take my hand off your mouth now, George,” he informed, slowly moving his hand from your face.

Of course it was him. His smell was all over the place, his touch still left little electric jolts on your skin. You snapped your head and turned around to face him. You realized your memories could never do him justice. He was so heartbreakingly handsome, you could cry. Pale skin, shiny disheveled raven hair. You noticed the circles under his eyes were darker and he seemed exhausted. Regardless, when your eyes fell on his lips, your body reacted before your mind could.

Your hands made their way to the nape of his neck, caressing and gently pulling his hair. At the same time, you clasped your lips together on a desperate kiss. His surprise didn’t stop him from matching your frenzy, grunting as he sucked your upper lip and asked permission with his tongue, one that you promptly granted. Henceforth, your tongues performed an erotic, lewd dance as they fought for dominance, swirling and exploring each other’s mouths.

Only when the back of your knees touched the bed did you realize he was moving you towards it. He broke the kiss for a moment to mercilessly throw you on the soft duvet, and you let out a surprised moan when he immediately covered your body with his, mouth returning to yours. A primal need surged from within you when you felt one of his hands roaming at your side lustfully, gabbing tight on your ribcage, your waist, your hip. He hoisted your leg and you hooked it around him, holding back a loud moan when he pressed his erection to your groin. You could feel your panties drenching from the sudden contact, a new wave of desire making your core ache.

“Y/N-“ he tried to speak through heavy breathing, his lips never leaving yours long enough for him to finish a sentence. “Baby,” he groaned, obviously trying to say something, but you weren’t ready yet. You rocked your hips against him, earning another lecherous noise from his rosy lips as he closed his eyes shut.

You used that moment of weakness to knock him to his side, climbing on top of him as you clamped your thighs harder on his hips. His eyes went dark at the sight, a devilish smirk tainting his beautiful features. You didn’t give him time to say anything, taking his lips on another bruising kiss. His hands on your ass, squeezing and groping, and you felt him throb inside his pants. You moaned, a gush of wetness coming out as you clenched around nothing. You couldn’t form coherent thoughts anymore, pressing yourself harder against his bulge as you rolled your hips, searching blindly and desperately for a sweet release that was already so close…

“Hold it, baby.” His voice was stern, and he pinned both your wrists on your back, his hands seeming incredibly big when closed around them. He was sitting now, hot, labored breath hitting your lips, heightening your senses and sending shivers down your spine. You crumbled under his dominant demeanor, feeling an inconceivable need to obey, and instantly stood still. It surprised him as much as it did you, and you saw a smug grin plaster itself on his face. “That’s it. Be good for me so I don’t lose my mind.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know to be holding and weakly nodded, mind still clouded with want. He let go of your wrists and gently pecked your lips, sitting you down on the bed instead of his lap. Father knows he would be physically uncapable of having a proper train of thought if he didn’t.

“So… I guess we have a lot to discuss first, don’t we?” his smile was sheepish now, hands going through his hair in a nervous tick.

“Yes,” you breathed out. “What happened? I was so worried, Yoongi, you have no idea. I didn’t even know where you were or what the hell you were up to, I-“ you took a moment in order to stabilize your voice. You knew you were affected by his sudden absence, you just didn’t know how much until now that he was actually in front of you. “I don’t even know what the worst case scenario could be, but I bet my thoughts came pretty close,” you chuckled humorlessly.

“I’m sorry, I never meant to worry you. If I knew I’d be gone for that long, I would’ve told you before I left. I missed you so much,” he confessed, voice lower than before, and rested his forehead on your own.

“Tell me. Please, I need to know,” your brows furrowed.

“I met my brothers,” he paused, waiting for a reaction that never came. It’s not that you were not surprised by the information that he had other siblings, you just wanted him to finish it before you spoke. “Jin aside, I spent… years apart from my family. You could say that we didn’t leave things on the best of terms when I left father’s, so it was a surprise for me when I learned that they wanted to talk. Notwithstanding that it’s out of need, not love.” His heavenly features contorted in hurt and resentment, and you felt you own heart clench. You gave him an eskimo kiss as a sign of reassurance and he smiled timidly. “They offered to take me back. It’s… certainly a grand gesture for the likes of us,” he shook his head slightly and knitted his brows.

“Isn’t that a good thing? Don’t you miss them?” you didn’t know why your voice was so small.

“Not anymore, no.” His gaze was intense and made your heart beat impossibly faster. “I do miss them. They used to be my whole existence, the reason for every breath of mine. But now… now everything’s changed.”

“What’s changed?”

“You.”

Your breath hitched. If it was anyone else, if it was any other situation, you’d laugh at the cheesy line. But this was him, and that, too, changed everything. That one word was enough to unleash butterflies in your stomach, enough of them to knock you breathless. The truth behind his statement carried a heavy meaning, one that you yearned for and that made you giddy. His onyx orbs were wary, and you wondered if he was blind to the utter relief plastered on your face. It was selfish, but you couldn’t help it. Not when it came to him.

“H-How come?”

He chuckled. “Don’t get bashful on me now, George, I’m pretty sure you understand.”

You tried to scowl, but the grin was insistent on your lips. “Alright, let’s put a pin on that. You still haven’t told me everything. What did your brothers want?”

“Y/N, there are certain things about me and my family that I cannot tell you. It wouldn’t be safe.”

“You don’t trust me?” you were mainly curious, but a hint of hurt could be heard, too.

“That’s not it. It just wouldn’t be safe for you.”

“Is your family involved in something… illegal? Is that why?”

“Not illegal, no,” he chuckled.

“Then I don’t understand.”

“I know. But please, George, don’t be stubborn about this one. All I’m asking for is a leap of faith,” his eyes were pleading as they bore into yours. Was he aware that he could probably convince you that the sky was neon green if he looked at you like that?

“It’s a big leap,” you mumbled.

“I know. Just trust that I have good reasons,” he smiled softly.

You sighed. “Fine, Romeo, keep your secrets. Just tell me if you get too deep into whatever it is that the Min’s are hiding. I care about your safety just as much as you care about mine.” You forced the heat back, secretly hoping that it did not reach your face in time for you to actually blush.

“Doubt it,” he grinned. “Dinner is ready, Mrs. D’Angelis will be coming for you soon. I should get going.”

Your face paled as you rushed to the wardrobe, retrieving some clean clothes from your drawer. “Wait,” you stopped on your tracks in the middle of the room, glaring at Yoongi through narrowed eyes. “How do you know that?”

“I have my ways,” he shrugged, then tugged his lips upwards on a daring smirk. “It’s a secret.”

“If you keep giving me clues I might just figure it out. Go on.”

He chuckled and stood up from the bed, walking languidly in your direction. He touched your nose with the tip of his index finger, tracing it’s way all up to your forehead, then coming down to your jaw, where he grabbed firmly. His lips were smooth and slightly damped as they softly touched yours in a chaste kiss. A ragged sigh of pure bliss escaped you, and you tried to fight the haziness.

“Bye, George,” he was still lingering when he spoke. As he broke the contact and turned to the window, you woke up from the trance.

“Stay,” you breathed out. He looked at you with a hint of confusion. “I-I mean, you can stay if you want. I can bring you some of mom’s soup and we can eat it here. But you don’t have to, if you’re bus-“

“Okay,” he deadpanned.

“Okay. Yeah, uhm… I’ll go change in the bathroom, you can make yourself comfortable.”

“Already am,” he said as he threw himself on the bed, bouncing a little. His countenance was amused and he eyed you intently, toying with the elephant plushie.

“Of course you are,” you snorted, carrying yourself to the bathroom.

That night, you both relished on your mother’s cooking while watching some old movie about Cole Porter on your laptop. You were sure that it wasn’t his cup of tea, but he payed attention to it nonetheless. After you were done, you offered to take the dishes downstairs, since your mother would probably have a stroke if she knew there was a boy in your room. You stopped by Taehyung’s to check on him and offer his favorite hot meal, but it didn’t take more than five minutes. You were on a hurry, and he knew better than to question it.

Back upstairs, you and Yoongi curled up under the covers and tried to find something interesting enough to watch for what seemed to be ages, your head resting on his chest and his hands holding you securely by the waist. It wasn’t long until you fell asleep, and only then did he leave, pecking your forehead gently before jumping out the window.

||\\

“Get in.”

“No,” you tried to end the discussion then and there. As expected, you failed.

“Y/N, you can’t go back on pinky promise. You should’ve thought this through.” His goal was to sound stern, but in reality you could see the hint of a pout on his lips. “It’s my birthday.” Okay, there it was. That was definitely a pout.

“No,” you closed your eyes shut and facepalmed – for good measure. “Don’t give me those eyes, I’m not looking,” the sound was muffled by your hands.

He wrapped his incredibly large fingers around your wrists and whined: “Come on, we’re already here. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Why on earth would you say that?” you instantly took your hands from your face and shot him a glare. He had the nerve to chuckle.

“You can’t possibly expect me to do this alone.”

“You can’t possibly expect me to do this at all,” you retorted, kicking the snow piled up near the curb, shunning away from his puppy dog eyes.

“You promised you would! I’ll do it, Marzipan. If you win this round, I’ll get a tattoo with you as a birthday present,” his voice was high pitched.

You snorted. “I was out of it, mental faculties completely fried. Drunk on power and merlot. Plus, I’m pretty sure you cheated, you could never beat me at Mario Kart,” you grumbled.

“I did not cheat,” he was outraged. “I’m a lawful man, I abide by the rules, and they are clear: a bet is a bet.”

You honestly have no idea why you let him talk you into this. Perhaps because you’ve been feeling guilty lately, and therefore didn’t have the heart to turn him down when he broke into your room to collect his victory this morning. It’s a good present, right? To get tattoos with your best friend? He had been trying to convince you since three birthdays ago. You hoped it would be enough to ease a bit of the weight on your chest.

Truth is, you had been spending too much time with Yoongi these past few weeks. After what happened when he showed his face again, it became routine that he came by almost every night when your mom fell asleep. You’d talk, watch movies, kiss… But what you enjoyed the most were those moments where you curled up in his embrace, face buried in the crook of his neck, and neither of you would say a word. You’ve always appreciated peaceful silence, but those moments were so much more. You felt truly connected to him, in a way you’d never felt with anyone else. Like you were both pieces of the same puzzle, cheesy lines aside.

Or when he would be the one to rest his head on your chest, blinking lazily as you twisted his silky, raven locks in your fingers. Perhaps those were truly your favorites, as you felt the incontrollable urge – need – to be protective of him, to never let anything disturb his serene, almost childlike countenance, so bare before you in the night’s veil. Before the sun came up and brought back the little wrinkle between his eyebrows.

During the day, you often returned to his safe haven – one that ultimately became yours, too. The waves breaking against the rocks, the salty breeze, the deep blue of the ocean, you had gotten acquainted to it all in a heartbeat. On occasion, you’d bring warm, fuzzy blankets, hot cocoa and books, spending an entire afternoon on your own personal eden.

You never meant for any of it to get in the way of your friendship with Taehyung, but counterbalancing proved to be harder than you first thought. Although you may have gotten too caught up, inevitably distancing yourself a bit, you were now eager to make it up to him. He was like family, after all. So here you were.

“Fine, have it your way. But I’m telling mom that you put me up to this,” you threatened. The snow under your boots making a crunchy noise while you crossed the street to get to the tattoo parlor.

“She won’t believe you. I’m a saint. I’m her Taehyungie.” He was beaming.

As soon as you got in, you saw a man sitting behind the counter. He was buff, and you’d bet that pretty much his whole body was covered in piercings and tattoos – mostly about dragons and snakes. Looks aside, his voice was warm and welcoming when he greeted you.

“Welcome, kids. My name is Eli, how may I help you today?”

All the drawings and pictures on the walls seemed to have detained Taehyung’s attention, so you plastered a polite smile on your face before answering.

“Hi. My friend over here came to get a tattoo,” you pointed at the boy beside you and he scowled.

“We both did,” he smiled at the receptionist.

“Alright. You have to sign a couple of forms before we get into details. You’re both legal, right?” the receptionist asked and you nodded. “Peach. Just a second,” he turned his attention to the computer in front of him, taking a couple of papers from the printer soon after. He handled you each a consent form. Before you signed yours, you exchanged a look with Taehyung, almost having a whole conversation – bickering – with him through knowing looks.

“Here you go,” Taehyung handed the papers to Eli.

“Cool. Do you guys have something in mind? We have a few drafts you can check out. But if you already know what you want, Hyunjin can draw it when you get inside. Don’t worry, he’s good.”

“I have something in mind,” Taehyung offered a bright boxy smile. “I guess I’ll just explain it to him, then.”

“Great,” Eli turned his eyes to you, realizing that you definitely had not made up your mind just yet. “If that’s the case, I’ll let him know that you’re going in,” he said to Taehyung, who nodded in response. When the buffy man went to the back, he glared at you through narrowed eyes.

“I’ll come back with permanent ink on my skin. You better not chicken out by the time I’m done,” he threatened.

“Hope you don’t regret it within the year,” you taunted.

“I won’t,” he snorted.

Eli returned a second later, excusing himself to lead Taehyung to the tattoo artist. In the meantime, you picked a binder that was resting on top of the counter to take a look at the drawings he’d mentioned, hoping to find something you’d actually like – or at least an inspiration. Most of them were very intricate, and although they were beautiful, you wanted something simple. Less is more when you’re tainting your skin for life because of a bet.

You were turning the pages with such disinterest that you almost missed it. It seemed unfinished, just a sketch, and you couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason as to why it caught your attention in the first place. It was a dragon intertwined in a circle, it’s countenance exuding fierceness and strength. Inside the circle, however, was just an unembellished arrangement of lines, one that was strangely familiar and alluring. 9-7-1-12-6, if you think about a clock.

“Oh, I see you’ve found Lee’s work. What do you think?” Eli pulled you out of your headspace.

“Uhm… Yeah, he’s great. His drawings are pretty authentic.”

“Uh huh, he’s been working on those for a while now. So, do you have any idea what you’re gonna get yet?”

“Not really. I mean, I liked this one,” you pointed to the page you were previously analyzing. “Do you know if it means anything in particular?”

“Yes! Actually, it does, but I can’t really remember what. I think it’s a sigil, though. You know, one of those thingies people believe to be magical.”

“Mhm.” You really didn’t know why you felt the need to purge those next words, but you were saying them before you could stop yourself. “This is it.”

“What? You’re gonna tattoo that?” Without even knowing what it means?

“Yes. I liked the dragon.”

||\\

His lips were soft against your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps on their wake when he moved them lazily to your jawline, wet little kisses making you squirm and sigh. His index finger was tracing patterns on your bare thigh, caressing and examining as if he’d never done it before, as if you were a made of glass. The sun had graced you with its appearance for the first time in weeks, and you wanted to enjoy the good weather as much as possible, so you had convinced Yoongi to lay on the grass by your side.

“Tired of Miss Brontë already, love?” his velvety voice evinced his amusement.

“Can’t read. You’re distracting me.”

He chuckled lightly, delivering small puffs of air on the crook of your neck, and raised his head just enough to look at you, blocking the sunlight and making it possible for you open your eyes. Before he’d made his mission to disturb your concentration, you were reading for him, like people do with kids before they go to bed. It became a thing after the first time you did it, and now he picked a different book every week or so. When you’d asked about it, he just shrugged and declared that ‘It’s just nice. I like hearing you.’ This week, it was Wuthering Heights.

“Continue, please,” he adjured, laying his head on your chest as a demonstration of good will. You grabbed the book you’d previously set aside and opened it, leaving one hand free to play with his locks.

“That, however, which you may suppose the most potent to arrest my imagination, is actually the least, for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped on the flags. In every cloud, in every tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day, I am surrounded with her image. The most ordinary faces of men and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.”

His eyes were no longer closed, he was gazing at you.

“Do you pity him?” he suddenly asked.

“Heathcliff? I don’t.”

He nodded slowly. “So, you think there’s no redemption, then?”

“Not for him. He lived and died as an antagonist. Some might think his cruelty is just an expression of his frustrated love for Catherine, or that he conceals at least some virtue, a romantic heart. They expect him to be anything but what he constantly proves to be, they expect misunderstood heroes. But he himself acknowledges his sadistic nature.”

He stood still, seeming to be lost in thoughts while tracing invisible patterns on your shoulder and refusing to meet your eyes.

“Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?” he asked wistfully.

You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

“I’ve never had to,” you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you. “Hey,” you dig your nails gently on the nape of his neck, asking for his attention. When he raised his head, the wrinkle between his eyebrows was there again. It worried you that, since he’s been back, it’s been a constant feature of his. Every now and then, his face twisted into an inscrutable grimace. “You understand, don’t you?”

A half-hearted nod was your response, and he built up the mask to conceal his discomfort once again.

“Enough vitamin D for you? I can’t stand the heat,” he grumbled.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, pressing your lips to his forehead and standing up, stretching a helping hand. “Where do you want to go?”

“My place.”

Which was code for: Your mom is home and I want to pass out on my bed nuzzling you.

“Whatever you want, grandpa.”

“Be a brat and I’ll hit the throttle,” he threatened, positioning himself on top of his Triumph. Sometimes he took full advantage of just how dreadful you found his two-wheeled vehicle. And it always worked. You snorted, climbing on the back seat and wrapping your arms around him. “Hold tight, George.” His warning was delivered with amusement, but you knew better than to take it lightly.

The fifteen-minute trip went as smoothly as it could, and even though you’d made sure to keep your eyes closed, you still felt dizzy and light-headed when he parked into the old building’s garage. He sensed your distress and got off the motorcycle slowly, careful when untangling you’re your arms from his waist and never completely breaking physical contact.

“Open your eyes,” he murmured, one hand on the small of your back and the other placed on your hip. You took a deep breath and your eyelids tentatively fluttered. His lips brushed your right cheek as he effortlessly lifted you and put you down on the floor, covering the entirety of your hand with his and making a beeline for the elevator.

Yoongi’s apartment was on the fourth floor, which happened to be the last one – the building was a small, fading-yellow rectangle in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. In a way, it suited him. Secluded and discreet. Perfect for a misanthrope such as himself, given that you’d never even bumped into one of his neighbors – and you’d been visiting quite regularly. On another note, however, it was uncannily unpretentious for someone like him.

He stopped for a moment on the front door, fumbling for the keys in his pocket. As soon as he opened it, you made your way to the couch, crashing with a sigh, face buried in the cushion. A minute had passed before he plopped on top of you, compelling a puff of air out of your lungs. You grumbled something about manslaughter, but the sound was muffled. He ignored you, making himself comfortable by nuzzling your neck and taking off his shoes using only his feet. You chuckled, making an effort to turn on your back so you could catch a breath.

“Sleepy?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair. He hummed a response, content with your ministrations. “I, uh… have something to show you.”

He raised his head from your throat, eyeing you curiously. “What is it?”

“Bedroom,” you commanded.

“Oh, I see,” he taunted, but stood up nonetheless. You rolled your eyes.

You guided him to his room and closed the door behind you. He leisurely sat on the bed, waiting cautiously for you to proceed. You sucked in a deep breath, growing doubtful under his gaze. Pushing all insecurities aside, you unzipped your shorts.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” he warned in a low-pitched, deep voice, orbs darkening considerably. You dismissed it, tiptoeing closer to him. He straightened his back and raised his eyes to meet yours, searching for any indication of what you intended to do. You pushed the waistband down, letting the piece of clothing pool on the floor, but he didn’t flinch, attention still focused on your features. When you hooked one finger on the hem of your white panties, he quickly snatched your wrist on a tight grip, brows knitting together. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, baby. You know that, right?”

Your chest swelled with warmth and affection. After the night he came back, things heated up a couple of times. Once he’d realized how tense and anxious you got at first, he began to hold back, withstanding your advances. You never verbalized anything, but he had a hunch, and pressuring you was definitely not on his to-do list. He was being respectful and caring, and although you shouldn’t accept nothing less, it made you feel safe. He made you feel safe, always.

“Let me show you,” you murmured, a soft smile blooming on your face. He seemed puzzled, but ended up nodding warily. When you moved your finger, slightly pushing the fabric down to expose your hip, he finally had the guts to jeopardize his restraint and look down. You didn’t know what you expected his reaction to be, but that certainly wasn’t it.

His breath hitched and he paled, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. He didn’t move a single muscle, whole body tensing up. It was as if he couldn’t fully comprehend the sight before him, like he couldn’t believe. He composed himself soon enough, but you could still see the glint of shock in his eyes. It didn’t make any sense.

“When did you get that?” his voice came out flat and a few octaves lower than usual.

“A couple of weeks ago,” you frowned. The tattoo that marked your hip was now almost fully healed. You were doubtful in the beginning, but now you kind of grew fond of it. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you know…” he cleared his throat, fingers twitching. “Do you know what it means?”

“Not exactly,” you confessed sheepishly. “The tattoo artist said it was a religious symbol and… Truth be told, I’m not even sure why I did this. Just felt right,” you mumbled, realizing then that you probably sounded a tad out of it. You held your lip between your teeth, unsettled.

“Yes. It’s the sigil of one of the seven archangels, love. It’s… Michael’s… sigil,” his jaw clenched, but his tone was now softer. “It’s used to invoke strength and protection. The ancients believed that, if you will it enough, he will be able to hear your prayers and, perhaps, be of assistance,” he laid his hand flat on your skin, stroking the symbol with his thumb, oblivious to the little jolts of electricity the simple gesture sent through your body. An unfamiliar mixture of dejection, despair and awe flashed through his onyx eyes, and you wondered what it was that he wasn’t telling you that could’ve possibly elicited such reaction.

“How do you know all that?” you wanted him to focus on something other than whatever it was that poisoned his thoughts.

“Father taught me,” he shrugged.

It’d been a while since he last mentioned his family. But you knew he was thinking about them whenever you saw the accentuated wrinkle every time he furrowed his brows, or when his muscles felt so tense to the touch that he was akin to marble against your skin. He was worried, he had been for a while now. And it scared you. You needed to know.

“Yoongi…” the uncertainty that laced your tone made him squeeze your flesh encouragingly. “Where is he? Your dad.”

“Home,” he stated tersely.

“I know, but… Where is home? And what about your brothers? I know you said you don’t speak to them anymore, you just never explained why.”

“We’ve already talked about this. They’re home, too. Y/N, just forget it,” he shook his head, avoiding your gaze.

“Why do you build this wall between us every time? It’s frustrating. I can help-“

“You can’t,” he deadpanned, breaking off any contact when he got up, making his way to the door. His demeanor screamed for you to back off, that he had no interest in continuing the conversation. But you were done being left in the dark.

“Why is it so hard for you to trust me, huh?”

“I already told you that it’s not a trust issue,” he raised his voice. “Why can’t you accept that I don’t want you to get caught up in the middle of my mess?”

“Well, I am caught up in the middle of your mess!” you roared. “You were gone for an entire month and have been on edge ever since you got back. Something’s going on, I’m not stupid.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N,” a deep growl escaped his throat. “It’s none of your business, if we’re being honest here. They’re my problems, I’m the only one who can fix them – hell, not even that.”

“If you could stop being such a jerk for a second, you’d realize that they became my problems, too, as soon as I fell in love with you. But you’re so far up your own ass that we can’t even discuss things without yelling at each other,” you spit the words. “Do you know what it’s like for me to watch you struggle like you’ve got the whole world on your shoulders? Especially when my hands are tied,” you stepped closer to his figure, heart hammering on your chest after your little speech. It was nothing but a whisper when you said, “You’re not alone, you idiot.”

His whole expression softened, and you could recognize a faint smile on his velvety lips. Taking a deep breath, he closed the distance between the both of you and let his hand rest on the column of your neck.

“I am an idiot,” he nodded, visibly calmer. “And you’re stubborn, you know that?”

“Might have heard something about it,” you grumbled.

He hummed. “Forgive me. Could you?”

“Maybe. Will you… I mean, I just wish you’d open up a little. I’m scared, Yoongi,” you confessed.

“Me, too.”

“I know. That’s why.”

He shook his head and lowered it until his skin touched yours. “I’m scared of your reaction, baby. I don’t know if you’ll want me once you discover the truth,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

“I’d say you’re safe. Unless your family is trying to coerce you into becoming a real life Michael Corleone. You didn’t shoot anyone in the head, did you?”

He chuckled wholeheartedly and took a step back to maintain eye contact and mock you properly. “That’s your theory? That I’m a mobster?”

You looked down sheepishly, before answering nonchalantly in a small voice, “One of them.” He couldn’t help himself, even though his hand was pressed tight against his mouth and his eyes were glistening with unshed tears of amusement. He tittered.

“May I know the others?”

“No,” you glared.

“Oh, George, what if I ask nicely? What if I say please?”

“Not even then.”

“How about pretty please?” You shook your head, trying to pass through him to get to the kitchen, but he encircled his arms around you from behind before you could grasp the knob. “And what if I tell you that I am, too?” he breathed in the shell of your ear and you held your breath for a second. You didn’t need him to vocalize what you already knew, but you felt butterflies fluttering anyways. Still, you kept your ground, suddenly very conscious of the fact that your shorts were still pooled on the floor near the bed.

“Closer, goodfella. But not enou-“

The loud bangs on the front door cut you midsentence. You felt Yoongi’s body stiffen before something that sounded terribly similar to a low growl broke out of his throat.

“Get dressed and stay here,” he ordered, authoritative. He didn’t spare you a glance before exiting the bedroom, and you felt a dreadful feeling claw up your insides, piercing your gut and making you nauseous. Pulse thrumming viciously under your skin, you fetched your shorts and wiggled it up, fastening the belt with shaky hands. Stop overreacting, you told yourself over and over, growing more anxious by the second. You couldn’t understand why, to be honest.

Taking deep breaths, you forced your fidgety fingers to stay still as you fell limp on the soft mattress, eyes closed. Your mind wandered to the safe haven: cotton clouds and baby blue sky, the smell of the grass, the books scattered around you and him. For a minute, you could truly take the edge off. Until you heard the noise of glass shattering on the wall.

Getting off the bed as fast as you could, your head spun. You opened the door quietly, careful not to expose the presence of another person in the house, and made a beeline to the kitchen. While you looked franticly for something that could be useful as a weapon, you tried to stay attentive to the sounds. They were muffled, but you could discern at least two voices, apart from Yoongi’s.

Alright. Great.

As any sane person who’s watched more than a few movies would do, you went for the most obvious choice. Knives. Better safe than sorry.

Almost counting your steps, you tiptoed your way to the living room. The voices were not very loud, but you could easily understand what was being said now that you were closer.

“It’s imperative that you return with us now,” a dulcet, almost high-pitched voice uttered softly. “I am sure you are aware of your responsibilities. It’s time.”

You stayed hidden behind the icy-white wall that separated the two rooms, gripping the hilt of the knife so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Maybe you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, that was clearly a family matter. Maybe you should lock yourself in Yoongi’s bedroom and do as he said. But the truth was that you were far too curious – and now far too enchanted by the childlike voice – to stop yourself from prying.

“I believe you have already forgotten about the current state of affairs, then? Father exempted me from my duties as soon as he banished me from the Gates and sent me to exile,” Yoongi spit. You could see it clearly in your head as he ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance. He sounded… different. You didn’t have the courage to tilt your head and steal a glance, afraid they’d catch the motion.

“Father warned you about the consequences of your stubbornness, Michael, but you were very much unyielding in your misconceptions,” the second person said, gruffy and curt.

“It is not a misconception to care for our own flesh and blood.”

Wait. Michael? Had he been listening to your conversation earlier? If the man wasn’t so deadly serious and the air so dense, you would’ve laughed – although you felt that it was probably not the right time to let out a full-throated guffaw to mask an anxiety attack.

“Our own flesh and blood abused his role as a persecutor and bent the rules for his own selfish purposes. Azrael is fortunate if Father ever forgives him, albeit we both know he will. Brother, I know you hold the highest regards for truth and justice, but it was not your place to question an order.”

You could hear the crude man pacing around the room as he spoke. Hoping to stay unnoticed, you sneaked a peek. The first person you landed eyes on was not at all taller than you, and you supposed that was the first man you’d heard. His hair was silvery, almost platinum blonde, styled in a way that evinced his beautiful forehead. The way he carried himself was elegant and graceful, like a ballerina, and his appearance suited his youthful voice perfectly. The second figure to catch your eye, though, was the complete opposite. Tall, lustrous olive skin and brown hair, he was intimidating at first glance. His steps were heavy on the floor, nearly clumsy.

“Perhaps there lies the problem. We are never to question, even whilst we deem fit. Azrael is the embodiment of corruption and amorality; it’s consensual, we are well aware. No matter how devious, he is needed. Casting one of the Seven out ought to never be an option. Be that as it may… There are only five of us within the Gates now. Was I supposed to receive graciously the task of exiling our own brother?”

You were growing considerably annoyed by their choice of words. Why the hell would they be talking like your great-grandparents? All cells in your body were telling you that it was supposed to be cringey, but in reality it was nothing but alluring. Charming. And that’s where all the annoyance came from.

“It is unwise to go against His instructions. Are you a rebel at heart, Prince?” The man stopped his pacing to let the words tumble out of his mouth, venomous. You could tell by Yoongi’s countenance that he was about to lose his composure, and in a way you were yet to see. His body were trembling slightly in fury, and his lips were compressed together in a well-defined line. You were astounded, however, by his eyes. In that moment, you couldn’t move even if you intended to. They were tinted in a deep violet, just like you had seen before at Jin’s encounter, except that, this time, they hadn’t gone back to black.

“This has nothing to do with the Rebellion, Raph-“

“Then why disobey? Do you plan to defy Father as well? It would be entertaining to watch you fight your antithesis for the throne of the underworld,” he chuckled.

It all happened in an instant, but for you it felt like slow motion. Yoongi was convulsing within himself, as if attempting to refrain a great deal of energy from breaking free. Once you saw blood oozing from his closed fists, you knew it was a lost battle. But never, ever, could you have foreseen what came next, what kind of energy – power – exactly he was trying to repress. For a very brief moment, everything stood still. If you had been able to avert your eyes from him, you’d see the silvery-hair figure shudder. You’d see the faint smirk on the lips of the man who caused Yoongi’s outburst, even though he was, deep down, a tad terrified. But you did not have time, nor will-power, to pay attention to anyone but him, ablaze amethysts shooting daggers at the man before them.

Then everything came crashing down. Your beliefs, the world as you knew it, it was all taken away ruthless and abruptly once you saw white feathers rip through black shirt. You gasped audibly, falling to the floor with a dull thud as the knife clinked at your feet. None of them noticed, too entranced by the interaction that unrevealed itself. Yoongi got to his prey at an unhuman speed, grabbing him by the throat and caging him against the door. The horrid sound was enough to make you wince through your stupor, and, if it were anybody else, their skull would have cracked. The man, however, only clenched his jaw to suppress a whimper.

“How dare you speak ill of your Leader like this?” as his voice went down a few octaves, Yoongi’s hold tightened visibly. The man-child seemed as ready to meddle as he would ever be, though still too frightened to actually move. “How dare you, brother, mention the Chief of the Heavenlies in the same breath as his nemesis? Mere one hundred and fifty years, Raphael, and you already built the temerity of being impertinent towards me? Or have you simply forgotten who I am?” his wings were whooshing, as if he was preparing to – quite literally – take flight at any given moment. They were stupendous, bigger than he himself, and so snowy-white, so untainted. Truly immaculate, contrasting with his raven hair.

His angelic features, albeit glorious, could never outstand the magisterial way to which he spoke, imposing authority. Like he was born for it. Everything about him in that moment urged you to bow before his feet, and you weren’t even the one holding his darkened glare. It was entirely alien to you, a facet of him you could barely conceive, let alone process. Raphael undoubtedly recoiled at his words, but tried to conceal it.

��Then show me. Do your title justice and lead us to victory, as I know there is no wrath nor passion greater than yours. Not for a moment have I forgotten who you are, Flaming Warrior, but you certainly have.” Raphael spoke, and it fell to the ears like a prayer.

As Yoongi’s wings retracted once again, you breathed what seemed to be the first intake of air in hours. He slackened his grip on Raphael’s throat, who then bent over in a fit of coughing. The boyish man’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and he let out a sigh. Of course, the little truce was bound to be broken the minute one of them laid eyes on you. It happened to be the blonde.

“Michael, there is a human on your floor,” he whispered, resembling a kid more than ever with his eyes wide open. “Why is there a human on your floor?” he snapped his head, shooting the question directly to Yoongi’s face, and you saw his body stiffen. “Oh, Father! She’s heard our names! Brother…”

“Silent,” his voice was gruff, and he turned to scrutinize your figure. You weren’t sure of how you looked from the view of an outsider, but you felt… Shock, maybe? Fright? You didn’t know who and what was in front of you, and all you could think was how come his eyes are pitch black now?

“Yoongi, we violated the law,” the man you now identified as Raphael said.

“Namjoon,” his eyes never left you as he spoke, “take our brother home and certify yourself that he does not mention today’s events within the Gates.”

“B-But the protocol-“

“Does not apply to her, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi cut him off, “If you still need me to fight by your side, that is.”

He seemed appalled by the perspective of that being an option. “Needless to say, brother, of course we do!”

“That means I am in charge, then. So, at your superior’s orders, will you be able to keep this to yourself?” Yoongi craned his neck to glance at them through his peripheral vision.

“If it is what you want, brother,” he mumbled, averting his gaze to the floor in respect.

“Well, that being the case, I fear we might have to end this dreadful visit already. Notify our soldiers that I am to be expected soon.”

“Yes, sir,” Raphael responded with a worried frown tainting his beautiful face. He touched the cherubic-like man on the shoulder and they both left the apartment.

Yoongi’s feet were glued to the floor, the same spot he’d been standing since landing eyes on you. Your breathing was labored and hitched; your throat so dry that it felt like sandpaper. He took a little step forward, slowly stretching one hand in your direction. You let out a low whimper, recoiling until you were almost balled up, knees pressed tight against your chest. He immediately withdrew his arm and flinched.

“I told you to stay in the bedroom.” His voice was flat, it wasn’t a scold.

“W-What- What the hell just-“ a sob broke through your throat, and only then did you notice hot tears striking your cheeks. “Y-Yoongi,” you weren’t sure of what to say, let alone if you were actually able to choke a whole sentence out.

“Are you afraid?”

Yes.

Fuck, yes.

Were you afraid of him, though? Granted, his whole countenance while exerting power over someone else sent chills through down your spine. But that was not the man standing before you now, no.

“Who are you?” you asked, trying too hard to keep a clear head.

He straightened his back. “My true name is Michael,” he muttered.

“You know that’s not what I asked,” you objected.

“Yes,” he sighed, “I know. Can you keep an open mind?”

“An open mind?” you scoffed. “I’m here, aren’t I? After seeing a pair of wings growing out of your shoulder blades.”

“You are,” he chuckled humorlessly. He then walked tentatively in your direction, sitting on the floor as well when he deemed close enough. “I’m one of the Seven.”

Your face twisted in confusion. Your brain was trying to deny what your subconscious already knew. “Go on.”

“My brothers and I… we are one of Father’s first creations. Have you ever heard of the seven archangels, George?”

“Yeah,” your voice was nearly inaudible.

“It’s easier for you to understand, then. We are responsible for maintaining harmony in Heaven. That, occasionally, includes keeping things in order between the Gates and Earth,” he paused, searching for anything in your face that would require him to stop. “I am… let’s say, of great importance to keep the balance between our worlds, including the nether regions. You might have already gathered that I’m their leader, so to speak. I am in charge of all heavenly troupes, every single one of Father’s soldiers is under my command, as well as I am under His. In times of war, I am indispensable. That’s why they call me Warrior Prince; amongst other things.”

“So it’s… all real?” your voice almost cracked. “Hell, heaven… God?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Then why are you here?” you murmured under your breath and his expression darkened.

“Immortality can make you petty. Do you remember meeting Azrael? I guess you know him as Jin. Azrael is… unique. Known as the Persecutor, he was the first reaper to ever exist – created before I was, even. He harvests human souls in due time and delivers them to a realm that suits them best. Paradise, Purgatory or Hell. My brother can be misunderstood very easily; his job has brought to the surface a sadistic persona. We all deal with evil from time to time, it was born in our home, but… Azrael is death, it’s a heavy burden to carry. Infinite lifetimes dealing with the worst sentiments a human can ever experience is bound to leave some scars. He can be mischievous and quite a pain in the ass, to be honest,” he huffed, “but his loyalty is admirable. So, when he made an egocentric mistake, Father reunited us all to discuss the best course of action. Much like a trial, if you will. The point is: they banished him to live amongst his… victims for a certain period of time. I could never agree to that, I believe every single one of the Seven serves a purpose, we are all needed to maintain natural balance.”

“So you rebelled?”

“No,” he scowled. “I’m not a rebel, I’m… a nonconformist.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“Not for us, it’s not.”

“Okay. Then what happened?”

“It’s a long story, if you want me to explain it correctly.”

“I do. And you’re everlasting, so I bet we have some time to spare.”

“Right,” he snorted. “My people is a bit traumatized when it comes to defiance, you probably know why.”

“Because of the devil, right?”

“Lucifer deeply despises all of his nicknames. But yeah, he’s the reason. A very long time ago, Father decided to expand our family. My brothers and I were content, but when He presented the idea of more… more of us, more love, we agreed on the spot. See, He was never, ever, the tyrant your kind makes him to be. Until Lucifer, that is. He was… exquisite, my brother. From his birth, each and every angel to exist used to say that Father got inspired by me when creating him, but in a very distinctive way. As much as possible, we were the flip side of each other, although extremely similar still, if that makes sense. With time, our bond grew stronger; we became inseparable. Almost everything we did was in each other’s company: from training in the fields to reading manuscripts under the sunlight. My brothers and I didn’t have much to worry about, it was a very peaceful existence. We had not come to know sin yet.

Needless to say, it did not last. Because we were oddly alike and yet so different, comparisons were nearly inevitable. I didn’t mind them back then, so I thought he would never take it to the heart either. I was wrong. Lucifer distanced himself slowly but surely, and with each passing day, he tried harder to triumph over me in a childish competition, one that existed strictly in his head. He’d become resentful, and his animosity soon spread like wildfire towards the others, too. None of us were able to comprehend a feeling we had never experienced ourselves, so it took us years to make sense of the situation. By the time we did… I guess it was already too late.

When Father created your kind, the hierarchy became even more apparent: only us, the archangels, were allowed to interact with humans – even so, only to a certain degree and always serving a purpose. Father wished your… species to stay untouched by our graces. Masterpieces, as long as kept apart, he had said. You see, your people got it terribly wrong. Lucifer was never jealous of humans – in fact, he holds deep contempt for them. He was jealous of us, of me, because my new responsibilities evinced that we had different roles on the chain of command. If rancor was his first sin, fury came to be the second. He endeavored to make a point of how unfair it was of Father to ‘play favorites’ and provide the Seven with greater might. My brother was a very shrewd, intelligent being, but his envy made him blind to a lot of things.

Lucifer used the following years to spread his beliefs right under our noses, and therefore was able to gather a herd of angels who succumbed to blatant lies just as much as he did. That was the beginning of the rebellion. His ability to lead was remarkable, but he could never be a true leader – not that he intended to, anyway. The reason is pretty obvious: my brother did not care the least about those under his directions, they were means to an end. His main goal was to dethrone the Seven, and for that he forged a deadly weapon: the flaming sword. The uprising initiated a war that none of us were ready for, not even him. For seven days, we fought. For seven days, we continuously killed our own. I suppose you already know the end to that story.”

You were so fascinated by his narrative that you’d already forgotten the reason he brought up the subject.

“I think so,” you said. “The real thing is actually so… different from everything I’ve ever heard.”

“I know. Tales never accomplish the whole truth.”

“But what does that have to do with the reason you’re here?”

“Like I said, my kind does not tolerate defiance after everything that happened. When Azrael was sentenced, I didn’t exactly make an effort to hide how I felt about it. They didn’t take it very well, so if you ask any of them why I was exiled, they’ll say it was for disobedience. When, in fact, it was because I reminded them too much of him,” he sighed, and you both fall into a pregnant pause. “How are you taking this?”

“I’m not sure. I guess I just didn’t have enough time to process yet.”

“I know,” he twisted a strand of your hair in his slender index finger.

All of a sudden, a realization fell heavy on your heart.

“Is your time up?”

His brows knitted themselves together. “My time?”

“Yeah. You said you’d stay here… for a predetermined amount of time. Is that why they came to get you?”

“No, George,” he let out a puff of air from his nose, “that’s not why they came for me.”

“Then why?”

“Think about it. Why would they need their General for?”

You shook your head, trying to make sense of what he was telling you. Oh.

“You said you were indispensable in times of…” your whisper faded to an end.

“War,” he completed.

||\\

“While they adore me on the throne of hell,

With diadem and sceptre high advanced

The lower still I fall, only supreme

In misery; such joy ambition finds.

But say I could repent and could obtain

By act of grace my former state; how soon

Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay

What feigned submission swore: ease would recant

Vows made in pain, as violent and void

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:

Which would lead me to a worse relapse

And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear

Short intermission bought with double smart.”

There was a thin layer of snow covering the streets once again. The friction between the tires and the asphalt was barely there, and if the circumstances were different, that would be your main concern. The wind howled as you cut through it like bullets, and you tightened your embrace around his waist, somehow enjoying the numbing air of a cold late-afternoon. Eyes wide opened this time. When he finally parked in front of the porch, you quickly hopped down and took the helmet off, placing it in the seat you had previously taken. Before you could say or do anything, Yoongi seized your wrist with a leather-gloved hand.

“I’m positively opposed to this,” he blurted in a last attempt to change your mind.

“I know.” You tried to free yourself from his iron grasp, but to no avail. It was getting easier to read his features, and you could tell he was still unsure. But you were not. “Yoongi, it’s my call.”

“Don’t I have a say in it?”

“Ultimately… no.”

“Want you to be safe, that’s all. Let us be reasonable about this, why don’t you?”

“I thought you understood better than anyone that I don’t get to be reasonable about this,” you sighed with impatience. “Please, I—”

“Okay,” he loosened his grip. “I’ll wait here.”

“Okay.”

The light was off in the living room, your mother wasn’t home yet. You told yourself that it was better this way. Making a beeline to the stairs, you went over the little list in your head once again before entering your bedroom.

Set of clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, laptop… What else?

You looked around, the baby-blue walls somehow mocking you, an excruciating reminder of simpler times. Memories of your childhood swirled inside your mind. All the times you and Taehyung would play hide and seek, the squeals he’d let out whenever you caught him off guard, how he was certainly faster than you, but would let you win a childish race every now and then. The familiar scent of caramel and coffee roaming around the house in the wee small hours of the morning after movie nights, your mom’s chocolate chip pancakes for lunch on Sundays. It all felt like a lifetime ago.

Hauling your backpack across your shoulder, you had a weird feeling that that was it. That was goodbye. Although Yoongi had promised you’d be back safe and sound in a couple of days, you knew things could go wrong. It was a pondered decision; you were aware of the risks, he’d made sure of it. Still, leaving his side when there was a real possibility that he might not get out alive was just… not conceivable. Logically, you understood that, if things went south, you would not be able to do much. You did not care much for logic these days, anyway.

[Cheers Darlin’, by Damien Rice]

Stepping out of the room and shutting the door as quietly as possible—for no apparent reason—you hopped downstairs two steps at a time, making sure to avoid staring at other parts of the house that could trigger another episode of nostalgia. Too focused on the task of trying not to focus, you missed the six feet tall barricade blocking the entrance to the living room, crashing into it face-first. If it wasn’t for the unrelenting grip keeping you in place, you would’ve certainly hit the floor.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the flat baritone voice resonated throughout the empty space.

Of course. You closed your eyes tightly, taking a deep breath before even contemplating lifting your head to make eye contact.

“Do you need something?” in a poor attempt to shield yourself, you parroted his dead intonation.

“Do I need something,” he hummed. Then he chuckled, fists clenching around your forearms. “Are you leaving?” he spat. “What about your mom, huh?”

“It’s just a couple of days. I’ll call her.”

By the scowl plastered on his face, your dismissive attitude hadn’t worked the way you planned it to. You had to do this quick, like ripping off a bandage. If anyone could give you a run for your money in this situation, that would be Taehyung. You knew he’d try to persuade you into staying, so you couldn’t risk it. For both your sakes.

“I see,” he remarked. “Were you planning to tell me you’re running off with your boyfriend or you’d just leave me to figure it out on my own?”

His venomous words burned out of his mouth at lightning speed, tainting his tongue with a pungent aftertaste.

“You know I would never do something like that,” the hurt that laced your voice was evident, but, maybe for the first time, it didn’t make him feel half as bad as it should.

“Do I?” he scoffed. “For the past few months, it feels like you’ve already left. Wouldn’t make much of a difference if you actually did, I guess.”

That did it. You felt tears well up in your eyes, but you were determined to not let them fall.

“Okay, I’m not doing this,” you whispered, not trusting your voice enough to speak properly, and pulled your arms out of his grasp roughly. You darted for the closed front door, feeling sick to your stomach at the thought of spending another minute inside the house. He clutched your shirt tightly, as if it was a lifeboat.

“Wait,” his fists clenched tighter. You could sense him getting closer, but you didn’t have the guts to turn around and face him just yet. He buried his face on your right shoulder, holding your hip now, nails bound to leave little crescent moons on your skin. “M’sorry,” he mumbled. “I hate this.”

Your heart ached. You hated it, too. Pushing Taehyung away was never your intention, but you finally came to understand all the times Yoongi had kept a safe distance before. To keep you safe. You couldn’t risk it, not with Marzipan.

“It’s fine, Tae.”

“It’s not,” he shook his head, brushing his nose on the fabric of your blouse. Inhaling deeply, he moved to the nape of your neck. You shuddered. “None of this is fine,” a peck on the bare skin of your neck, and your entire body tensed.

“Taehyung…” you warned.

“Don’t,” he begged, turning you around. You were adamant on avoiding his gaze, so your eyes kept darting between your feet and your hands. “Don’t go.”

While he rested his forehead on yours, one hand on your cheek and the other thumbing your collarbone, you knew what was about to happen. You knew, and, still, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You knew, but it was Taehyung, your best friend. Marzipan, the little boy from the house next door. Boxy smile, disheveled hair, sweet-toothed Taehyung. How wrong could it be? You were saying goodbye to a part of your own soul. How wrong could it be?

When his lips touched yours, soft and ravenous, you really wanted it to feel right. But the answer to your previous question was: too wrong. You loved him, yes. But he wasn’t him. Didn’t taste the same, didn’t feel the same. His movements weren’t slow yet demanding, his hand wasn’t drawing invisible patterns on your lower back, his smell wasn’t musky enough. It just didn’t feel right.

“Tae,” you tried to end the kiss, but he led his mouth back to yours like in a trance, nibling on your lower lip. “Taehyung, stop!”

By the end of it, you were both panting. It dawned you how big of a mistake you had just made, and guilt made you nauseous. Neither of them deserved what you’d just done, neither of them deserved to have their hearts broken because you were such a fuck up.

“I-I’m so sorry, Tae,” your voice cracked. He was about to answer, but you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t breathe, your skin was on fire and there was a big, nasty lump in your throat. You bolted out the door, only to be met with Yoongi’s inquiring gaze. It seemed to have broken a damn, and heavy tears tumbled down your cheeks. He rushed to meet you halfway, brushing the tears away as soon as his hands reached your face.

“Hey,” he shushed you. “What happened, baby?”

“Can we go home, please?”

The crease between his furrowed eyebrows deepened, but still, he chose not to pry any further.

“Of course, love. Of course we can,” he softly muttered, although still hesitant to take his hands off you.

You climbed onto the familiar grey motorcycle and hid your damped cheeks on his jacket. The beast rumbled, gaining speed as you cut through the air. The ghost of Taehyung’s lips on yours haunting you the entire way back.

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peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 3 years

Note

ahh im obsessed with the summer prompts. Can I request Lifeguard Tom with prompt 36 please? preferably fluffy ending but its all up to you thanks!

This became very long sorry bestie. I hope you still enjoy it tho! Love you so much, thank you for the request love!

Reminder to everyone else that the Summer of Love is still going on and I'll be accepting requests for it until September 22nd! You can find the prompt list here!

Let’s Give It a Shot

36 - It’s the last day of summer, and your last day together

Pairing: Lifeguard! Tom x Reader

Summary: Tom shows you exactly why you love him so much

Warnings: angst, crying, fighting

Masterlist

Summer of Love

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Tom peaked at the bed as he pulled his shirt over his head, a smile came over his face at the sight.

“Good morning angel,” he cooed, “Like what you see?”

“I liked it better when you had your shirt off,” she teased, her voice still raspy and tired, “Remind me why we agreed to work today?”

“It’s only till noon,” he reminded as he bent to kiss her. He laughed as she attempted to pull him into bed, “I’ve got to get going, swim class starts at 7.”

She rolled onto her back and groaned, “Who the fuck takes their kids to swim class at 7?”

“Their toddlers angel, most of them have been up since 5,” he pecked her lips one final time before standing up, “I’ll see you at 8?”

She hummed, nodding once before she closed her eyes again, “Love you.”

“Love you too,” he watched her settle back into bed before leaving, closing the bedroom door as quietly as he could behind him.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Bye bye,” Tom waved to the kids as they padded through the lobby.

“We’ll see you all Thursday,” Harrison added.

“Well I really appreciate it,” Tom smiled in response, falling into the spinning chair that she usually sat in, “Seriously, I owe you.”

The kids filed out, being ushered away by their parents while the boys hung around the front desk.

“I can’t believe I agreed to take you shift,” Harrison yawned, stretching his arms above his head, “You’re such a dick.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m the best,” he glanced towards the door, just in time to spot (y/n), “Oh shit, fun’s over Tom, time to get back to work.”

“Ha ha,” she rolled her eyes, “What are you two doing at my desk huh?”

“You’re desk?” Tom smirked, “This is my desk today angel.”

“Oh and I suppose you want me to save the drowning children?”

“No,” he stood and grabbed her by the waist, “Haz is going to watch the pool today and I’m going to help you up front.”

She raised a brow and turned to Harrison, “Really?”

He nodded, “Course sweetheart, happy to give you a little extra time together.”

“Aw, thank you Haz,” she cooed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You’re welcome,” he gave her a squeeze before dropping her, “Alright, I’ve got to go clean up, you two just make sure everything is done. I don’t want to get in trouble because you two were making out instead of working.”

“We will, don’t worry,” she laughed, “Thank you guys, I couldn’t have dreamed up a better last day.”

“You’re welcome,” Tom hummed, pressing his lips to hers as she tried to reach for the computer behind him, “We could do this everyday if you stayed, I could switch to the front.”

“Tom you know I can’t,” she sighed, “I don’t think we should be having this discussion at work either, it’s just gonna make us both emotional.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow morning so I’m gonna be emotional no matter what,” he sighed, “You never want to talk about this.”

“Because I don’t like thinking about leaving. I don’t like the idea of being far away anymore than you do.”

“Then don’t leave,” he grabbed her hands, preventing her from getting to her job, “Just stay here. You can move in with us, Haz adores you, he won’t mind.”

“Tom I can’t. I have to go back to school, and right now I have to open, so can we please save this for later?”

He sighed and nodded, “Yeah, yeah, we can talk about it later.”

“Thank you,” she kissed his cheek before pushing across the floor.

He laughed as the chair spun away from her, “I don’t know how you expect me to help from all the way over here.”

“I expect you to go make sure the bathrooms are stocked,” she flashed him a cheeky smile while she popped open the register, “And I’m gonna count the cash.”

He sighed and dragged his feet towards the closet, “Fine, fine, I wouldn’t do it for anyone else though.”

The day continued as normal, despite Tom’s best attempts to distract (y/n) from work. Tom had surprised her by doing most of the work throughout the day, insisting she simply sit and handle the register. It was a nice change, normally when Tom hung out in the front it was just to steal drinks and tease. Tom busted through all of her tasks, seeming impossibly determined to get them home as soon as possible. He’d managed to do it too, Harry arrived at exactly noon and he’d rushed (y/n) right out the door.

“Hurry,” Tom shook her shoulders while she gathered her things.

“I am, I am, sheesh,” she shoved her phone into her purse and stood, “What’s the big rush?”

“I’ve just got a lot planned for today,” he beamed at her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, “Now come on, our first stop is this way.”

“Our first stop?” she knit her brow as he led her towards the pool, “Wait why are we going to the pool?”

“Because it’s our first stop,” he repeated, stopping just outside the doors, “See that?” he pointed to one of the lifeguard’s chairs.

She nodded, trying to imagine where he might be taking the conversation, “I do see the chair Tom.”

“It’s the most important chair in the world,” he kissed the top of her head with a smile, “Because I was sitting in that chair the first time I saw you.”

She flushed, biting her cheek to try and fight off her smile, “Stop.”

“I remember it exactly. You walked out of there and I just couldn’t take my eyes off you, you wouldn’t believe how disappointed I was when they said you were gonna be up front.”

“I thought you were pretty cute too.”

He laughed, “Thank God you did.”

“Did you bring me out here just for that?” she raised a brow, “You’re not trying to throw me into the pool?”

He shook his head, “No, just wanted to be a little sappy. Now I’m gonna take you on that date and be even sappier.”

“Lucky me,” she chuckled, “So, where are you taking me now?”

“Minx,” he smirked, “Alright darling, just get ready for the best date of your life.”

“Back home, I can’t parade around the town dressed like this,” he motioned to his swim trunks with a smile, “As much as you might like that.”

“I’d rather save that for tonight,” she teased back, “When I’ve got you all to myself.”

Tom took her home, refusing to reveal even the tiniest detail about their date as they both got ready. He claimed it would be long, that’d they’d be out until that night, but refused to give her any more details. He even went as far as to try and blindfold her when they got in the car, but he quickly dropped it when she refused. She expected he’d be taking her somewhere new or out of town because of this, she was completely in shock when he just drove her to a sandwich shop just up the street from the pool.

“Seriously? We eat here like everyday,” she rolled her eyes, “This cannot be it Tom.”

“It’s not,” he laughed, “Obviously I’ve got something more than this planned. I just thought we could stop here.”

“Why?”

“Because, if you remember,” he began to explain, a smile overtaking his features, “You stayed late to help me clean the pool and I took you to lunch as thanks. It was like our first half date.”

“Half date?” she laughed, “That is not a thing Tom.”

“Yes it is, it was the first time we hung out outside of work together, and it’s when I asked you out, it’s a half date.”

“Those are very specific circumstances that define a half date,” she pursed her lips, fighting her urge to smile.

“Whatever, the point is, this place is special because it reminds me of you,” he leaned over the middle console to press a kiss to her cheek, “And I just wanted to tell you that before we got to the real date.”

“Aw,” she cooed at him, “Don’t tell me it’s going to get even sappier than this.”

“Oh angel, just you wait, it’s only getting worse and worse from here.”

She watched out the windows as Tom drove her across town to another restaurant, though this time she knew exactly why he’d brought her there.

“Tom,” she bit her lip as she spoke, “This is incredibly cute.”

“Ah not here angel,” he grabbed her hands as she tried to open the door, “Just being sappy again. Remember what happened here?”

“Our first date, how could I ever forget that?” she smiled as she reminisced on the happy memories, “We got all dressed up and you brought me flowers. Then we talked until they closed, and we still couldn’t get enough of each other so you drove me up to that cliff side and talked all night.”

“No, no, it was nothing like that,” he rolled his eyes, “I picked you up and you looked so fucking gouregous I could barely speak. Then I took you to this restaurant and I tried so desperately and to seem interesting enough to keep your attention. For some reason you put up with me, and we talked and talked and talked. I thought you’d want to go home at the end of the night but you still weren’t sick of me so we drove up to that little lookout point and I fell madly and deeply in love with you while we talked the night away.”

“You did not fall in love with you on our first date,” she rolled her eyes, “You’re just trying to make me emotional.”

“I fell in love with you the first time I laid my eyes on you, it just took me a little while to realize it.”

She sighed, letting her head fall onto his shoulder, “I fell in love with you the first time we kissed. I’ve never felt like that with anyone else.”

“Mine was cuter,” Tom hummed as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“Oh whatever,” she rolled her eyes, “Alright, are we going to the real date now?”

“You’ll see, you’ll see,” he shushed her, driving just a few parking lots over to the local bowling alley, “Remember here?”

“Another one?” she sighed, “Alright, you took me here to introduce me to your brothers. I found out that I majorly suck at bowling that night.”

“Yeah you do,” he laughed, “But my brothers adore you, they treat you like a sister and it totally melts my heart.”

“Yeah, I think they’re cool too,” she chuckled, “So, is there an actual date or are you just taking me on a victory lap of the city?”

“There is a date, at the end of the victory lap,” he admitted, “There’s just a couple more things I want you to see first.”

“You’ll see, just give it a second,” he hummed.

Tom drove her all over the city, stopping anywhere with even the tiniest amount of significance. He took her to the club where they’d spent Harrison’s birthday, the fairgrounds where they spent way too much money on rigged games, even the local park, where her and Harry had gotten way too competitive with a game of frisbee golf. He took her to more sentimental spots too, like where they’d had their first kiss, the hill where they’d fallen asleep watching a meteor shower, the place where they’d first said I love you, where they’d had their first time. It was like a montage of their greatest hits, that had her falling in love with Tom, and the city, all over again. She was almost in tears when Tom finally declared that the tour was over, and it was really time for their date.

“Okay, where are we really going then?” she pressed, her eyes glued to the window for any clues, “I mean we’ve pretty much been everywhere already…”

“Looks like we’re heading to your place, or work,” she knit her brow.

“Does it?”

“Does it?” she mocked, “We have to get out of this car soon or I’m gonna pee myself.”

“Well,” he flicked his blinker on and turned into the pool parking lot, “Good thing we’re here.”

“Tom I swear to god I-”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he laughed, “But you can run inside real quick and use the restroom before we go.”

“They’re closed.”

“I have my keys,” he flicked off the car, grinning as he waved for her to follow, “Hurry up angel.”

She followed him inside, suspicious that he had some kind of ulterior motive, “We are not fooling around in there Tom.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” he hummed as he opened the front door, “Go on, take care of your business.”

“Thanks,” she scampered off to the bathroom, only to find Tom was missing when she returned, “Tom?” she peaked around the lobby but found nothing. She got no response when she knocked on the men's locker room door, and the employee lobby was empty. “Tom?” she called again, peeking at her phone for any hints, “Come on,” she sighed and headed for the pool.

“Surprise!”

Out jumped everyone she’d spent the summer with, Tom, Harrison, his brothers, everyone they’d worked with at the pool, all the friends she’s made across town. The pool was all lit up, lined with tables full of food and drinks. (y/n) was in shock, her jaw hung open as she took it all in.

“So,” Tom’s arms wrapped around her waist and he pressed a kiss to her cheek, “What do you think?”

“This is amazing,” she squeezed his hands, “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” he kissed her cheek again before stepping away, “We all wanted to make your last night really special.”

“It’s perfect,” she confirmed, “Seriously, I couldn’t imagine anything better than this.”

“Glad to hear it love,” Harrison wrapped his arm around her shoulders for a quick hug, “Come on though, you’ve got lots of people to say goodbye too.”

She was led around to say hi to everyone, progressively becoming more and more emotional as the night went on. Tom stuck right to her side, doing his best to comfort her as the night went on. It was nice, she appreciated the gesture and everyone being there, but the realization that this was her goodbye just kept creeping back up. Tom could tell she was drained by the end of the night, obviously ready to just curl up in bed.

“Angel, are you ready to go home?” he hummed.

“No, no, I’m okay,” she insisted, “We should stay and help clean up.”

“You can’t clean up your own party,” Harry rolled his eyes, “We’ll stay back and clean it up. If you’re ready to go you and Tom can head out.”

“Are you guys sure?” she wrung her hands nervously, “We can stay and help.”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, it’s not very much anyway, we’ve got this.”

“Thanks guys,” Tom squeezed her side, “Let’s get you home then yeah?”

She nodded, “Thanks guys.”

She moved to give each of them a hug, mumbling a quick goodbye, hoping to escape to the car as quickly as possible. Harry seemed to have other ideas in mind though.

“I love you,” he squeezed her tight.

“Aw, I love you too,” she chuckled.

“I’m gonna miss you so much sis,” he patted her back as she pulled away.

She forced a smile as she stepped away, waving to them while her and Tom slipped away.

“Are you alright?” Tom squeezed her waist.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she insisted as she climbed into the passenger seat, “I just wanna go home.”

“Alright, we’ll go.”

“He called me sis.”

“What?”

“Harry called me sis.”

Tom chuckled, “Well yeah, I told you earlier, they think of you like a sister.”

“But it’s different when he says it,” she sniffled, her facade finally crumbling, “I don’t wanna go Tom.”

He moved to her side as quick as he could and pulled her into him, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to angel. If you want to stay you can, Haz and I would be more than happy to have you.”

“But I can’t! I can’t just ditch everything for a summer fling! I have to go back to school and my family and I have to go home! But I don’t want to go back there! I want this to be home, I don’t want to leave!”

Tom took a deep breath and kissed the top of her head before scooting back to his seat, “I know we went a lot of places today angel, but I’ve got one more thing to show you alright?”

“No I don’t wanna go fucking see anything else Tom! I just want to go home…”

“We will, I just want to show you one thing angel, it’ll make you feel better,” he promised, slipping a hand over hers, “It’ll be quick.”

“Okay…”

She was quiet the rest of the short drive, he’d taken her to a small cafe, they’d only been there once before.

“Come on angel,” he waved for her to follow him.

“Why would you bring me here?” she scoffed.

“Just come on,” he insisted, smiling as she slammed the door behind her, “Come sit with me,” he patted his lap.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms before falling into his lap, “Why are we here?”

“Do you remember what happened here?” he hummed.

She nodded, “Yeah, we had our first fight here, and it seems like you’re trying to have our second too.”

“No, I’m making a point,” he corrected with a smile, “We had our first fight here, and then we never came back here again. But that is not why I brought you here, I brought you here because that fight made me think about us, and the fact that you had to leave at the end of summer. I kept trying to think of ways around it or ways for us to minimize our time apart, but you know what thought never crossed my mind?”

“What?” she sank into her chair.

“That when summer came to an end we would break up, because we aren’t a summer fling. We never were, not even for a second, and the sacrifices we make are not for a summer fling, they’re for a real relationship that both of us treasure. If you really, really don’t want to go then you can stay, and I mean we’ve got a Uni nearby and you’ve always got somewhere to stay here. But if I’m the only reason you don’t want to go then you need to go, and we’ll suffer through the long distance until my lease with Haz is up and then I’ll move to you.”

She shook her head, “It’s not just you, I love this town, and the friends I’ve made here, it’s everything about this place. I just feel like I belong here, and I’ve never felt like that back home.”

“Obviously I’m biased here,” he chuckled, “But you could always just give it a semester out here, transfer back if you hate it, or vice versa. Just remember this long distance thing is going to be temporary no matter what, and even then we’re only a couple hours apart.”

She was silent as she tried to sort out her thoughts, “Yeah, school’s a little cheaper out here too, that’d be nice. A-And I haven't paid for anything yet this year so I’m not really obligated to go…”

“You don’t have to justify anything to me angel, obviously I want you to stay” he kissed her shoulder with a frown, “If you wanna give it a shot then I think you should, but if you don’t, we’re still gonna make this work, because I love you.”

“I love you too,” she sniffled while he wiped her eyes, “Thanks Tommy.”

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Taglist:

@niallberry @namoreno @spideyssunshine @thevery-firstpage @outshineallthestars @roseke @zspideyy @tomsirishgirlx @emistrash @andreagf956 @peachyafshawn @spideyspeaches

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estrel · 4 years

Text

It’s in the Knowing (that Wishes Come True)

destiel december 2020 prompt: sledding + spn advent calendar 2020 prompt: wishes wc: ~1.4k

[READ ON AO3]

“Dean, you had,” Sam huffs, “infinite possibilities at your disposal. And you wished for–for this?”

Dean’s a little confused, too, looking out at the mountains. Almost every inch is covered with a layer of snow, but by far, the hill they’re standing on has the thickest blanket. Dean’s feet sink into it a little when he shifts his weight, studying their surroundings.

Apart from the clearing they’re in, the place is littered with trees. Dean’s gaze follows the trunks up, until he’s looking at the sky, which is quickly losing light. He thinks he can make out the beginning twinkles of constellations, and when he laughs, a puff of frosty breath obscures them for a moment before fading off.

Then he smells it—something like firewood, he thinks, and turns towards it. Eyes still searching the tops of the trees, Dean catches sight of a thin column of smoke, likely from a cabin nearby.

A few feet away from them, a tree branch packed with snow loses its hold, and the whump of the snow hitting the ground startles Dean out of his thoughts.

“I don’t know, man,” Dean says, “It’s not like I really had a choice. I just, you know, just had this thought, I guess, and now…we’re here.”

He turns back to Sam, who focuses on Dean once more, seemingly having caught sight of the smoke too.

“I’m assuming…those have something to do with it?”

Dean’s eyes follow the direction Sam’s finger is pointing to, which is a somewhere on the ground and behind Dean, off to his left. Just at the edge of the hill sit two sleds—the old, wooden kind that seem like they’re always one good bump away from splintering into a million pieces, but somehow never do.

He chuckles, moving towards them to check them out, when Sam urgently pats his shoulder. Dean swivels around, taking in Sam’s confused—but not shocked—expression, and once more tracks his stare to see what he’s looking at.

Dean finds himself mirroring his brother, but otherwise smiling despite himself.

“What took you so long?” He hears himself say, feels Sam looking at him weird in response. If this was his “wish,” then this only made sense—it’d just been a matter of waiting for him to show up.

Cas levels him with a stare that says ‘really?’ and Dean moves to meet him half way.

“Jackets,” Cas says, handing Dean a thick black one that looks like it’s meant for snow. Dean takes it. “And Jack,” Cas adds. With a gentle tilt of his head, Dean looks over and sees Jack, not too far away, walking briskly towards them with something small in his hands.

“You two always come out here practically naked,” Cas says, leaving Dean and handing Sam his own jacket. “And the lumberjack outfits are fine for when it’s any other season, but you do realize it’s the dead of winter, right?”

“Well, you…” Dean starts, about to tell him off for the dress shoes and trench coat he’s never seen without, except that Cas isn’t wearing them, he’s…

“Cas, is that—are those—are you wearing boots?” Sam asks, a lilt of amusement in his voice.

Cas looks down, frowning. “These are my snow boots. Dean got them for me last Christmas.” He shoots Dean a confused glance, as though Dean should be in on this, and Sam was the one acting deluded. Dean can’t really bring himself to care, too busy smiling at the rest of Cas’ outfit.

He’s about to comment on the snow pants, which are black and baggy over Cas’ lower half, but Jack makes it to them just in time, pushing something into Cas’ chest.

“You forgot your beanie,” Jack explains, and then looking up at them, “I thought you guys came out ahead of us so you could ‘get the sleds ready.’ Cas and I started on the cookies so they should be done by the time we get back.”

Dean watches Cas slip the beanie on, losing his breath a little at the sight. The thought occurs to him—when he’s looking long enough to notice Cas’ red nose and ears and cheeks—that angels don’t usually get cold.

“Hang on—you left the oven on unattended?” Sam says. Pulling his eyes away from Cas, Dean chuckles at the wild look on Sam’s face, like he’s half ready to bolt for the cabin to stop it from catching fire.

“Of course not.” Jack frowns at him like he should know better. “I charmed it with the spell you taught me. It’ll shut off automatically when it’s done.”

Sam relaxes, forcing a smile. “Right. Uh, Dean? Can we talk for a second?”

Dean follows him around to the nearest tree, which is far enough away that Jack and Cas probably won’t hear them over their own conversation (Dean thinks he hears something about hot chocolate) if they talk quietly enough.

“We can’t stay here,” Sam says, “We have to find a way out.”

Dean wets his lips, “I know, Sammy, but…” He looks over at Jack and Cas.

Sam is quiet for a second before he notes, “You want to stay.”

He shrugs. “Just…just for a little while longer. We can–we can go sledding, eh? We haven’t done that since we were kids! And then—then we can figure out a way out of here.”

Sam has a look of growing concern on his face, something Dean thinks is teetering too close to pity.

“What?” He jokes, “You’re telling me you don’t wanna see those two sled? It’s not for us, Sam, it’s for the nerdy angels over there.”

His brother manages a smile, which is a relief. “Sure,” he says gently. Dean pretends not to hear it, heading now for the sleds and waving them all over.

He pulls the sleds apart, placing them each by the hill’s edge, but not so close that sitting on them would be enough to send them flying down the slope.

“Okay,” Dean starts, “How do we want to do this?”

Dean knows the answer before anyone says it. Better stated: he knows his wish before anyone else does.

“The logical route would be to pair up,” Cas says seriously, “You and Sam have done this before, so each of you gets a sled.”

Dean feels his chest go tight with anticipation for a second, and then it subsides. He nods.

“Good idea. Who—”

“I’ll go with Jack,” Sam interrupts, a wry smile on his face. Dean quirks his lips in a smile, cocking his head to the side in a mild ‘screw you’ gesture to his brother. He turns to Cas.

“Well, hop on then Louise and we’ll sail off this cliff together,” Dean says. He waits for the recognition to spark in Cas’ eyes and he smiles—for real this time—as Cas situates himself in the front of the sled. He spares Jack and Sam a glance, amused at how Sam is struggling not to take up most of the sled with his legs, before sitting down behind Cas.

And he stays like that for a moment, sitting awkwardly and gathering his courage, until he musters up enough to wrap his legs around him.

“I’m nervous,” he hears Jack say. Dean thinks, Me too. Sam laughs and reassures Jack that it’ll be fine.

“Okay, uh, you’re gonna have to lean back once we kick off, alright?” Dean instructs, trying to remember how to do this.

“You promise I won’t fall?”

Dean swallows. “Nah. I’ll hang on to you.”

“Let’s race,” Sam says. He can feel him staring and avoids Sam’s gaze. He’ll blame the tint on his cheeks and ears on the cold, if Sam ever asks.

Dean scoffs, “You’ll lose.”

“Prove it,” Sam responds, and then he’s pushing off and leaving them in the dust.

Dean’s surprised by the laugh that escapes him, and then he’s pushing off too, and he and Cas are propelled down the snowy slope after the others.

Cas leans back as instructed. Dean’s pretty sure the guy can feel the rush of his heartbeat with his back on Dean’s chest like that, but Dean can also feel Cas’ steel grips on his legs, nails digging into his shins.

He laces an arm around Cas’ chest, pressing him closer. “I’ve got you!” he reminds him.

There’s a beat, and then over the sound of the wind whipping against their faces, Cas says, “I know.”

tag list (ask to be added/removed):

@castiels-a-lamp @jellydeans @writtenmemxries @cestladean @randomblabbling @fluffiestlou @dreamnovak @weird-dorky-little-d @depressivedemonnightmaredean @jackleslongcon @friedchickenangelwings @galaxycastiel @destielle @dickspeightjrs @on-a-bender @organicpurplepants @casbelieves @samuelswinchester @spacegirlstuff @seffersonjtarship @winchester-novak @professorerudite @squintingg @holmesemrys @imnotrevealingmyname @festivemish @good-things-do-happen-dean @angxlsgrxce @casandeans @castielscrookedtrenchcoat @destiel-in-its-natural-habitat @gracelesschoice @superduckbatrebel @iheardyourprayer @top13zepptraxx @that-one-fandom-chick @scoobydean @destiels-canonahhhhhhhhhh @maxguevra @cursed-or-not @i-think-im-humanbut-cant-besure @fitinmypoems @madilineskingdom @awolfnamedaliac @castee-yel @tearsofgrace @credentiast @fivefeetfangirl @my-favourite-hellatus @gray-is-neutral @sunflower-vol-28 @ensignabby @ar-bi-trary @lulu-zodiac @y-yo-a-ti-dumbass @castielology @nguyenxtrang @destiel-bitches @supergaycas @deancasology @miadeline @save-the-sloths

#this is so fluffy im gonna puke #alsO i've never ridden a sled before so like #dont cancel me or anything #destiel december 2020 #spnadventcalendar2020 #rambleoncas writing #spn #destiel #supernatural #whats up with me and these titles lately huh??#weirddd #roc original #my post

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mldrgrl · 3 years

Text

The Matchmaker

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG Summary: Based on this old prompt I got, which I originally said I couldn’t handle, but then inspiration struck and I had to roll with it.

Scully has only just barely opened the door to the dark office when Mulder is shoving a file into her hands and closing the door behind her. The projector is on, but the screen is blank, just white square of light and Mulder’s silhouette as he takes her to-go cup of coffee from her hands so she can shrug out of her overcoat.

“Once upon a time,” he says, handing her coffee back to her.

“Really, Mulder? Once upon a time?”

He smirks good-naturedly and snatches up the remote to the projector to advance to the first slide. “Once upon a time there was a little tiny tree in a great big forest in New Hampshire.”

“Mmhm.”

Scully tucks the unopened file under her arm and passes through the warm light of the slide projector to put her satchel down at her workstation. She takes a momentary glance at a grainy, black and white photo of a large tree and sips her coffee.

“Estimates have placed this particular tree to be somewhere around 400 years old. This is the earliest photo of it I could find, in the Manchester Daily from 1929.”

“Did someone cut this tiny little tree down and release a great big swarm of deadly mites like the ones we encountered in Washington state?”

“No, nothing like that.” Mulder winces and scratches the back of his head before advancing to the next slide, another black and white photo from a different angle, wider so that the tree in question stands small and alone in the middle of a field against a backdrop of mighty oaks and firs and pines.

“Well?” she asks.

“Did you know there are countless legends about enchanted trees? Trees with magical powers, trees that have the ability to heal or harm or grant wishes or foretell the future?”

“Folklore.”

“Every single culture has some kind of legend about the power of a tree.”

“Mulder, you once tried to tell me the same thing about Bigfoot.”

He ignores the wisecrack and clicks through his slides, narrating the images that appear on the screen. “The Jinmenju tree in Japan is said to have fruit with human faces that laugh at people who happen to walk by. There’s the sacred Norse tree Yggdrasil, center of the cosmos and where the Gods gather for daily court. In Iranian mythology the Bas tokhmak is said to contain seeds that eliminate sorrow and despair. And the Hungarian égig érő fa or sky-high tree that only selected shamans are entitled to climb and encounter magical worlds in the clouds.”

“Sounds suspiciously similar to Jack and the Beanstalk.”

“And then there’s the Hart’s Location Flame Thrower Redbud.”

Scully presumes the new slide is the same tree that was in black and white at the start of the slideshow, only now it’s in color. The leaves are multicolored, mostly red and purple, but some are so dark they’re nearly black. Though small, the tree stands out in sharp contrast to the yellow fieldgrass, blue sky, and the green trees behind it.

“Well, it’s certainly beautiful,” she says.

“The locals call it The Matchmaker.”

Scully snorts softly. “And why is that?” she asks.

“If you open up that file I so generously put together for you, you’ll find newspaper clippings from the past half-century, most of them wedding announcements, citing this tree as a key to what led these couples to a happy union.”

“Mulder...you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Of course with any good legend, there’s a catch.”

“Of course there is.” She puts her coffee down and opens the file, but doesn’t take more than a passing glance at the pages she flips through.

“From what I can gather, and keep in mind this is the Cliff’s Notes version of things, people believe the tree can predict compatibility in couples who make the pilgrimage there.”

“And how, pray tell, does the tree do this?”

“Glad you asked!” Mulder advances the next slide, a close up photo of the left hand of a woman. The ring finger is disfigured in some way, appearing to Scully to almost resemble a twig.

“What the hell am I looking at, Mulder?”

“You’re looking at an example of what might happen if a couple is not compatible. There’s an online Usenet group dedicated to finding matches for anyone who’s had, let’s say, experiences with the tree that have left them unrequited.”

“Unrequited?”

Mulder scrolls through the next few slides without comment. There’s another photo of the side of a woman’s face with what appears at first to be a small pinecone earring, but on closer look the pinecone is actually attached to the earlobe. There’s another of a hand, masculine this time, with veins that look like tree roots creeping up from wrist to knuckles. The last one is a forearm covered with a thin layer of moss.

“They say the only way to reverse the effects is by true love’s touch.”

“True love’s touch,” she repeats.

“Hope you’ve got your hiking boots ready and an overnight bag in the car,” he says, clicking over to an aerial photo of a forest. “We’re headed to a little town on the outskirts of Crawford Notch State Park.”

She tries not to sigh in response.

*****

The flight to Manchester is less than two hours and they arrive just before noon. Scully has flipped through the file Mulder gave to her, and though the clippings make for amusing anecdotes, she sees nothing noteworthy or remarkable.

“What exactly is your interest in this case,” Scully asks, buckling her seatbelt after she takes her usual navigational seat in their rental car. “Not that I even believe there actually is a case here, let alone an x-file.”

“You don’t think it’s unusual just how many couples cite that tree as a turning point in their relationships?”

“Not really.”

“You’re not even a little curious?”

“About what?”

“The tree.”

“Quite honestly, I’m far more curious about what you’re going to buy me for lunch than I am about a matchmaking tree.”

He chuckles. “Ah, well, lucky for you our first stop happens to be a diner not too far from here.”

“Yes, lucky me.”

*****

The diner resembles a small cabin and is nestled amongst the trees off the side of the road. She doesn’t want to admit it, but the drive so far has been beautiful. The highway is narrow and tree-lined and it’s autumn. Miles upon miles of yellows and reds and golds and greens and oranges. To say that the road is picturesque would be an understatement.

The little cabin-diner is warm and cozy. A wood-burning stove is on in one corner, easily heating the small space. There’s a long counter with swivel-seats dividing the cabin in half, lengthwise, and four booths pressed up against the front windows, two on either side of the door. Only one man sits at the counter, sipping coffee and reading a newspaper. He looks up briefly when Mulder and Scully enter, but immediately returns his attention to his newspaper.

A waitress in an emerald green, button-down dress and starch white apron comes out from behind the counter with two menus. She smiles congenially as she says good afternoon and waves to the booths.

“Take your pick,” she says.

Mulder looks to Scully and she sees him glance at the counter. She nods and cuts her eyes to the nametag pinned above the pocket of the woman’s uniform. “The counter is fine,” she says. “Janet.”

“Sure.” Janet turns and her blonde curls bounce lightly against her back. Her shoes squeak as she makes her way back to the other side of the counter and places the menus down side by side.

“What do you recommend?” Mulder asks.

“Can’t ever go wrong with a burger,” Janet answers, pulling an order booklet out of her apron pocket. “But, the special today is meatloaf. And the soup is tomato bisque.”

“I’ll do the burger. Medium well. Is that pie under that dome back there?”

“Pecan.”

“More of a sweet potato guy.”

“Yeah, me too. Well, sweet potato girl.” Janet laughs and winks and Mulder chuckles and nods.

Scully clears her throat and slaps her menu down on the counter so hard that Mulder jumps. “I’ll have the chicken salad,” she says, pushing the menu towards Janet. “Balsamic vinaigrette on the side, if you have it.”

“Sure.”

Janet swipes the menus from the counter, scribbles their orders down and rips the paper from the pad to slide it through a small window behind her. Scully adjusts her napkin and cutlery as Mulder swivels towards her and leans in close with his elbow on the counter and his hand across his forehead.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you being hostile to the witness.”

“The witness?”

Mulder inclines his head towards Janet and then raises his eyebrows. “Did you even read the file?”

“I gave it a glance.”

“Janet is one of the unrequited.”

“Too bad for Janet.”

Mulder narrows his eyes a little at her and puckers his lips to form a question. She doesn’t know why she’s suddenly feeling so catty, she just does. No, that’s not true. She does know why she’s feeling catty. The past year her partnership has felt like a game of ping pong, bouncing between extreme highs and extreme lows. And the wedge that was driven between them by Diana Fowley, may she rest in peace, is not far enough in the rear view mirror for her liking. They’re on the mend, both professionally and personally, but she still can’t help but feel threatened in some way when Mulder turns the charm on with strangers.

“I’ll stop being hostile if you stop flirting,” she blurts out, regretting not only what she’s just said, but the way in which it flies out of her mouth.

“Flirting?”

“Forget it.”

“Flirting?”

“Nevermind.”

Mulder straightens in his seat and puts both hands flat on the counter. Scully rolls her shoulders back and tucks her chin down. She lets her hair fall across her cheeks to hide her embarrassment. Janet is suddenly there in front of them again, two glasses of water in her hands.

“Didn’t even ask if you folks wanted something to drink,” she says.

“Got any iced tea?” Mulder asks.

“Sure do.”

“Two lemons, please.”

“And for the lady?”

“I’ll just have the water, thank you,” Scully says.

Janet is gone for what feels like only seconds before she’s bringing a glass of iced tea to Mulder and a small glass dish of lemon slices. Mulder thanks her warmly and for some reason, that makes Scully feel even more chagrined.

“Janet,” Mulder says, reaching into the interior breast pocket of his jacket to grab his ID. “My name is Agent Mulder and this is Agent Scully. My partner and I are actually on an assignment right now that you might be able to help us with.”

“Me?”

“Have you ever been out to see a tree they call The Matchmaker?”

The smile on Janet’s face wavers and then fades into a frown. She stands stock still for a few moments and then grabs a rag from the side of the counter as though she’s about to clean something, but then just twists it nervously her hands.

“What do you know about it?” she asks.

“Not much, which is why we’re here. We know from our preliminary investigation that you’re amongst the group that calls yourselves the unrequited.”

Janet nods slowly. “That’s not...a crime, is it?”

“No, no. We’re trying to determine if you might be the victim of one though. It’s my understanding your contact with the tree has left you with some sort of affliction.”

Janet nods again and then hesitates before tucking the rag in her hands into her waistband and coming around the counter. Both Mulder and Scully turn in their seats and Janet turns her back to both of them. She lifts the hair up off her neck and it’s then that Scully’s interest is finally piqued. The back of Janet’s neck is rough and scaly, resembling tree bark. Scully whips a pair of latex gloves from her pocket and leans closer to Janet.

“Do you mind if I…?” Scully asks.

Janet glances over her shoulder at Scully, looks at the gloves she’s pulling on, and then nods her head. “Go ahead,” she answers.

“Agent Scully is a medical doctor,” Mulder says, unnecessarily.

Scully gently prods the ridges at the back of Janet’s neck. It appears as though the skin is very dry and may flake away, but in reality it’s very thick and does not give at all. Mulder hovers over Scully, his chin nearly touching her shoulder.

“It could be an allergic reaction,” Scully says. “It appears to be a localized eczema. Have you seen a dermatologist?”

“I’ve been to every dermatologist in the area,” Janet answers, dropping her hair and turning back around. “They’ve done biopsies, tried laser removal, creams, gels, cryotherapy, the whole nine yards. No one knows what it is or how to treat it.”

“And you think the tree that Agent Mulder mentioned earlier has something to do with this?”

“Oh, I know it does. I was foolish enough to ignore the warnings and so...well, now I’m one of the unrequited.”

“I see.”

“Can you walk us through how it happened?” Mulder asks.

“It was about five years ago now, I was a senior in high school. Me and my boyfriend at the time, Anthony, we thought it would be like a funny thing to do just before graduation. We’d been together all through high school, grown up on the same block, and we were planning on getting married the next fall.”

Scully lets her eyes drop momentarily to Janet’s hands and notes the absence of a ring on her finger.

“You knew of the stories before you went up there?” Mulder asks.

“Oh yeah,” Janet answers. “I mean, if you’re from around here, you hear all about it from the time you’re a kid. And everyone wants to brag about it, you know? You hear from all your friends, my parents touched The Matchmaker and then got married, but no one wants to talk about the other side of it.”

“You and Anthony?” Scully asks. “You never married?”

“Well, how could we? He wasn’t the one.”

“According to the tree.”

“If it was true love, I wouldn’t be afflicted.”

“You really believe that?”

Janet points to her neck. “I didn’t until this happened.”

“You didn’t believe in the legend when you went there?” Mulder asks.

“Not really. Who would believe that a tree could do this?”

“You folks need to talk to Hattie Vale,” the man at the other end of the counter suddenly pipes up, even though he doesn’t even look up from his newspaper.

“Hattie Vale?” Mulder asks, swiveling in his seat to face the older man.

“Mmhm.” He nods once and turns the page of his paper. “That cursed tree is part of her legacy. Janet, I’ll take my check now, if you please.”

“You got it, Wallace.” Janet gives Scully a wry smile before she heads behind the counter again, ripping a page out of her booklet.

“Can you tell us how to find Miss Vale?” Mulder asks.

“Take the red bridge about a mile inside the entrance of Crawford Notch. Sign’ll say private property, but it’s just to try to keep looky-loos away from the tree.” Wallace takes a few bills out of his wallet and puts them on the counter. “Thank you, Janet.”

“See you tomorrow,” Janet says.

“Miss Vale lives out by the tree?” Mulder asks.

Wallace folds his newspaper and then stands and tucks it under his arm. “Go right at the fork, that’ll take you to Hattie. Go left, that’ll take you to The Matchmaker. And take my advice, don’t touch that tree.”

“You have a personal experience you’d like to share with us?”

“No.” Wallace pulls a hat out from his jacket pocket, slaps it on his head, and walks out of the diner.

“Why do I not believe him?” Mulder says to Scully as he turns back to face the counter.

*****

Hattie Vale’s home is exactly where Wallace says it would be. While the diner was a faux cabin, Hattie’s place is the real deal. Scully would not be surprised if it did not have running water or electricity.

The woman that greets them on the porch is both ancient and spry. She’s stocky and squarely built, wearing a thin housedress and a hand-knit sweater and moccasins on her feet. Two long, grey braids fall over her shoulders to her hips. Her face is sunburnt and weathered, deep lines in her forehead and at the sides of her mouth. She grins broadly, revealing a handful of missing teeth.

“I had a feeling I might get visitors today,” she says. “And here you folks are.”

“Are you Hattie Vale?” Mulder asks.

“Sure am. Who’s asking?”

“My name is Agent Mulder, this is Agent Scully.” He stops at the edge of the porch and holds up his badge and Scully does the same.

“That supposed to impress me or something?”

“Ah, no Ma’am,” Mulder says, chuckling as he tucks his ID back into his pocket. “We’re investigating some unexplained afflictions associated with a tree in these parts referred to as The Matchmaker.”

“You’re about three centuries too late for that, bub.”

“Forgive me for my tardiness.”

Hattie laughs heartily at Mulder’s joke and Scully has to fight not to roll her eyes at him when he gives a pleased grin in her direction.

“Come on in, I got coffee I can put on.”

“That’s not necessary, Mrs. Vale, we only want to ask a few questions,” Scully says.

“Come on in anyway, let me put my feet up.”

Mulder hops up the stairs onto the porch and Scully trudges up behind him. She’s surprised to find that the cabin actually does have electricity and is fairly tidy and well-furnished. The large room is a combination kitchen, dining area and living space. Hand-woven rugs are strategically placed on the wood floors. Knitted blankets are draped over the couch and a lounge chair. There’s no TV, but there is a transistor radio perched on a folding tray next to the chair.

Hattie plops herself down into the lounger and pulls a lever to extend the footrest. She leans back with her hands over her belly and flexes her toes inside her moccasins.

“How long have you lived out here?” Mulder asks, waiting for Scully to take a seat before he perches himself at the edge of the couch.

“Well, I was born here, so I figured I might as well die here too, but I did move out to Vermont for a time when I got married. After I raised my kids and my husband passed, I thought it was as good of time as any to come back. That would’ve been somewhere around 1942, I think.”

“That was fifty-seven years ago,” Mulder says. “You had already raised your kids and been widowed by then?”

Hattie laughs again. “I was born in 1885.”

“You’re 114 years old?”

“Don’t look a day over 100, do I?” She wiggles her shoulders a little and lifts her brows. Even Scully has to smile in amusement.

“Mrs. Vale,” Scully starts.

“Hattie, please. Never liked formalities. So stuffy.”

“Hattie, can you tell us anything about the tree?”

“Maybe why some might say it’s cursed,” Mulder adds, and Scully grimaces.

“A curse? Bah. Sounds like you’ve been talking to my grandson.”

“Who’s your grandson?” Mulder asks.

“Name is Wallace Byrd. He’s my girl Rosemary’s boy.”

Mulder and Scully give each other a glance. “We did...happen to run into someone named Wallace,” Mulder says.

“Wally had a bad go of it when he was a young man. He blames the tree for it, silly boy.”

“So, you don’t think it’s cursed?”

“Not at all, the tree is blessed, if anything.”

“Do you happen to know how it came to be blessed?”

“Oh yes, I can tell you exactly how it came to be.”

There’s a twinkle in Hattie’s eyes as she starts to tell the story of the tree, one that makes Scully even more dubious and Mulder even more interested.

“My four times great grandfather, Jean-Luc Benoit, came to this area from Quebec City in the first half of the 1700s,” Hattie says. “There was a Winnipesaukee tribe that lived nearby and they traded goods often. Jean-Luc fell in love with a squaw from the village called Little Flower, and she with him, much to her father’s dismay. Sensing that Jean-Luc was going to ask for his blessing to marry his daughter, her father met with some of the elders of the village and they told him he would have to ask the white man to pass a test of his true love if he were to take one of their women away.”

Mulder nods encouragingly at Hattie and then grins at Scully. His enjoyment of the tale is palpable. She keeps her gaze straight ahead, afraid she might slip and very unprofessionally roll her eyes at him.

“Little Flower’s father took the advice of the elders,” Hattie continues. “Except, he decided he was going to give the would-be suitor an impossible task. He told Jean-Luc to plant a seed, and only when that seed had flourished and become a tree, could he have his daughter’s hand in marriage. Jean-Luc said his love was unhurried and he would plant the tree and wait as long as it took. A ceremony was held for the planting and to everyone’s astonishment, the tree grew overnight.”

“Overnight?” Mulder asks. “Incredible.”

“I’ll say,” Scully murmurs.

“But, that wasn’t to be the end of it,” Hattie says. “Little Flower’s father was distraught by the turn of events. Instead of turning to the elders as he had before, this time he went directly to the tree, believing the Gods may have grown the tree as punishment for his trickery. He apologized for his wrongdoing and pleaded with the tree for a sign that would show him that Jean-Luc was worthy. When he went home, his village was in chaos. They told him that right before their eyes, his daughter had started growing leaves where her hair was and roots where her feet were and that she reached up to the sky and her arms became limbs and her fingers became branches.”

“She turned into a tree?” Mulder asks.

“So they say. Little Flower’s father was distraught and horrified. He tried pulling her feet from the earth, but the roots just grew deeper. When he saw that he could do nothing, he ran to Jean-Luc and asked for his help. The instant that Jean-Luc touched the tree that Little Flower had become, she was restored to her human self.”

“And since then, people have come to ask the tree to show them who their true love is?” Mulder asks.

“That’s about right. Mostly locals though, passing the story along to their children and grandchildren.”

“Mrs. Vale, Hattie, are you aware of any pesticides that may have been sprayed around the tree or perhaps any poisonous foliage that might surround the area?” Scully asks.

Hattie shrugs. “Been years since I’ve been out by that tree. The state took that part of the land years ago when they formed the park.”

“Have you heard about people coming away from the tree with afflictions?” Mulder asks. “Skin problems, or physical ailments of some kind? You said your grandson, Wallace, believes the tree to be cursed. Has he been suffering from an ailment after contact?”

“Ailments? No. Broken heart is more like it. Wallace brought his sweetheart out to the tree before he proposed. He was a believer in the legend and said the tree showed him that Corrine, that was his girl, was his true love. A week before their wedding she was killed in an automobile accident. He never got over it. Now, he thinks the tree cursed him to a life alone. I tried to tell him many times not to take stock in that tale. It’s just a tale, after all.”

“So, you don’t believe in the legend?” Mulder asks.

“Believe in a tree that grows overnight and wraps a girl up in branches?” Hattie laughs. “You’d have to be crazy to believe in that kind of thing.”

It’s Scully’s turn to grin and Mulder smiles good-naturedly. He stands, and Scully does as well.

“Thank you for your time,” Scully says.

“Could you tell us, what’s the best way to reach the tree from here?”

“Once you cross back over the bridge head due west. The ‘no trespassing’ signs should lead you right to it.”

*****

It really is a stunning tree, Scully thinks, as they stand before it. The photos didn’t do it justice. The sun shines onto the top of the tree, making it look alive with red-purple flames. The branches curve out and the leaves cascade like a waterfall. The field grass flutters in the wind like a golden wave around their feet and the leaves of all the trees that surround them shake and rustle. She has to brush her hair from her eyes and away from her cheeks.

“Well, I guess we should take a look,” Mulder says.

“What is it that we’re looking for?” she asks.

“You tell me.”

“I don’t know, Mulder, I’m not a botanist. Plants aren’t something I ever took a strong interest in. I’m not even sure I’d truly be able to identify poison ivy if I came across it.”

“Leaves of three, let them be.” Mulder smiles as he pulls on a pair of gloves. “Something we used to say as kids to avoid it when we were camping.”

“And somehow I’m guessing you still managed to pull your share of rashes.”

“I don’t know where these baseless accusations are coming from, but I will neither confirm nor deny the generous supply of Calamine Lotion my mother kept on hand for such occasions.”

Scully snorts softly and pulls her own pair of gloves on. Mulder is already crouching before the tree, running his hand over the dirt. He picks up a fallen leaf and twirls it by the stem.

“It looks like a heart,” he tells her, turning it upside down and holding it up between pinched fingers. He’s right.

“Bag it,” Scully says, handing him a plastic bag. “We’ll need soil samples as well. Maybe scrape some bark off as well.”

“I take it your theory is the tree is toxic?”

“Perhaps.”

“Mmhm.” Mulder seals up the leaf and stands back up. “Any of those poisonous plants you mentioned before known to cause skin irritations for over five years?”

“Mulder, I’m fairly certain that contact with this tree is merely coincidence. Take Janet, for example, she could have daily exposure to an allergen without even knowing it, causing that rash at the back of her neck, her laundry detergent, for example.”

“Something that all of the dermatologists she’s been to have failed to diagnose?”

“I’m only saying that there are more probable explanations for why someone would develop a skin irritation than a centuries old legend.”

“Probable, but not implausible,” he says.

“Mulder, you’re crazy,” she answers with a shake of her head and a small laugh.

He pockets the plastic-wrapped leaf and then walks away from her to circle the tree. Scully studies the lush mane of leaves, trying to determine the best possible way to part them and reach the trunk. She puts her hands into a gap and a few birds fly up and out of the tree in a panic, their wings flapping wildly. She jumps back, heart racing. A sudden breeze ruffles the back of her hair and she shivers. Goosebumps prick her arms, but she isn’t cold. Her shoulder pulls up automatically as the inside of her ear is tickled with what feels like a soft whisper.

“Mulder?” She turns, but no one is there. She hurries to the other side of the three and spots Mulder a few yards away, looking up into the white pines that border the clearing.

Scully turns back to the tree and finds another gap in the leaves to part. She cautiously pushes them aside and finds she’s able to lift a section back and step under the canopy of branches. Hunching slightly, she pulls her pocketknife out and scrapes a bit of bark from the thin trunk and bags it. She crouches down to collect some dirt as well. As she straightens her knees, her heel comes back and catches on a tree root and she stumbles. Her first instinct is to throw her arm out and her hand smacks into the tree trunk. She can feel the bark bite into her palm through her glove and the inside of her wrist is scraped in her efforts to prevent herself from falling.

“Dammit,” she mutters, wobbling into her hunched position and letting go of the tree. She pulls the sleeve of her blazer up to inspect her hand. There’s debris on her glove and the inside of her wrist is scratched red, but the skin wasn’t broken and she’s not bleeding. She rotates her wrist a few times and fortunately it doesn’t feel sprained, just a little sore.

“Scully!” Mulder calls.

“Yeah,” she answers, warily.

“Where are you?”

“In here.” She can hear the crunching of the field grasses and leaves underfoot as Mulder approaches. She pulls the cuff of her sleeve down over her wrist before pushing the leaves aside like drapery and steps out from the canopy.

“You have…” Mulder approaches and reaches up to pluck a leaf from her hair.

“Thanks.”

“It matches,” he says, twirling the red leaf softly against the ends of her hair.

A breeze comes up again and that same whisper and tickle of her ear returns. She shivers again and moves her hand up to take the leaf from Mulder, but he pulls it back and puts it in his pocket.

“Find anything interesting?” he asks.

“Bagged up some bark and some dirt.”

“You ask the tree if it was cursed?”

“I did.”

“What was the answer?”

“Stop letting your crackpot partner talk you into fruitless jaunts to the forest.”

Mulder chuckles. “There is some poison oak in the woods up there. You’ll be happy to know I steered clear.”

“Wonderful,” she says, wincing as her wrist burns slightly when she peels off her gloves.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You think those are storm clouds rolling in over there?”

She nods slightly, rotating her wrist in her pocket. It’s beginning to itch.

“I guess we should probably head out then?”

“No argument from me.”

*****

They leave New Hampshire with nothing more than the samples and family legends. Mulder finally accepts there isn’t much of a case to be had, especially when they can’t find any other afflicted locals to speak with, and they return home. They run the samples through the lab, but the results don’t account for any toxins.

A week passes and Scully’s wrist doesn’t seem to stop itching. It’s at its worst during the day at work and seems to calm at night when she goes home. She sees a dermatologist who can’t find anything wrong, but gives her a prescription for an anti-itch cream that does nothing to help.

They’re out of town again, on a case in Iowa. She shouldn’t be relieved to be doing autopsies again, but it’s been awhile since she’s been in a morgue and not out in the field. She’s either too busy to notice her itching wrist, or it miraculously ceases to bother her for the day. When she’s back at the motel, having a pizza dinner over crime scene photos and witness statements, her whole hand starts to feel like it’s on fire. She excuses herself from the table and shuts herself in the bathroom.

By all outward appearances, nothing is wrong with her wrist. It’s not inflamed, it’s not scratched, it’s not even red anymore, but her skin crawls. She holds it up to the light and takes a closer look, running her thumb across the line where wrist meets palm. There does seem to be a slight bump where there wasn’t one before. She checks her left wrist in comparison and then the right one again. When she scratches at the little bump with her nail, she can actually feel a slight pull under her skin. She pushes at it with her thumbnail and then her skin ruptures and what looks like the stem of a leaf emerges.

“Oh my god,” she whispers. There is a pair of tweezers in her toiletry kit that she finds and then plucks lightly at the stemp, but it doesn’t budge. It doesn’t hurt and it doesn’t bleed and no matter how hard she pulls, the stem is immobile. After only a few minutes she’s nearly in tears with frustration. She wipes her watering eyes dry and then goes back to the table to rejoin Mulder.

“I need to show you something,” she says.

Mulder pauses with his hands full of photos and looks at her. He sets them down and then wipes his hands on his pants and leans forward, elbows on the table. “Okay,” he says. “Show me.”

Scully pulls the sleeve of her shirt up and drapes her hand across the table, wrist up. Mulder looks down at her hand and then up at her. He moves his face closer to her arm and tilts his head from side to side.

“What am I looking at?” he asks.

“When we were in New Hampshire, I scraped my hand on that tree.”

“The Matchmaker?”

“Yes. It wasn’t a bad scrape, no skin was broken, but since then, my wrist has not stopped itching.”

“What is that?”

“I don’t...I don’t know. I tried using my tweezers on it, but it wouldn’t come out.”

Mulder picks up Scully’s hand with both of his and runs his thumbs across the bottom of her palm. Her whole arm tingles when he touches her and she can feel something move beneath her skin.

“It feels like...I’m not sure...” Mulder puts a little more pressure on Scully’s wrist and slides one of his thumbs up to her palm. Suddenly it feels like her whole hand opens up somehow and something unfurls out of her wrist like a butterfly to rest in her palm. It’s a red, heart-shaped leaf.

They’re both silent, staring down at her hand, at the leaf. Her arm still tingles and she sways slightly, lightheaded. “Mulder…how did…?”

“I don’t know.”

“What just happened, Mulder, it’s impossible.”

“Well, there is one explanation.”

“Don’t say it.”

“You touched the tree.”

“A tree didn’t do this, Mulder.” She jumps up from the table, determined to pull the leaf from her hand, but it’s stuck to the stem and the stem won’t budge. “I need scissors.”

“Well wait, maybe you should see a doctor.”

“I am a doctor!” She rushes back into the bathroom to get the small scissors from her toiletry bag. Mulder follows behind and watches as she attempts to cut at the leaf and the stem, but the scissors just slide right off of the leaf as though it refuses to be cut.

“Stop,” Mulder says, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Come on.”

“Mulder, there is a leaf growing out of my hand!”

“I can see that, come out here.”

Mulder guides her out of the bathroom back to the table, but she doesn’t want to sit. She stares at her palm and at the leaf while Mulder sits and then he brings her towards him with his hands on her hips.

“Let me see,” he says.

Scully reluctantly shows him her hand and he holds it gently, tracing the shape of the leaf in her palm with his index finger. He pinches the leaf between his fingers and pulls gently and the stem slides out of her wrist without any effort at all. When it’s completely free of her hand, she feels something wash over her that she can only describe as utter euphoria. She sways slightly on her feet, leaning into Mulder and putting her hands on his shoulders to hold herself up.

“Scully?” The leaf flutters to the ground as he grabs her hips.

“Oh, I feel…”

“Sit down.” He stands and tries to urge her to sit, but she holds onto his arms and shakes her head.

“No, I…” She feels overwhelmed by something she can’t describe, but the force with which she aches to be as close to Mulder as possible is powerful. It’s like she can’t breathe, but he is oxygen. It’s like she’s freezing and he’s a warm fire.

“I really think you should sit down,” he whispers.

“Mulder,” she says, blinking lethargically. Her voice is slow and her eyes are heavy. “If it was the tree, then that would mean…”

Mulder puckers his lips a little and his chin juts forward as he swallows. “It would mean whatever you want it to mean,” he says.

Her heart hammers in her chest. She tingles from head to toe, but especially where his hands grip her hips and where his arms press against hers. She opens her mouth a few times, but doesn’t know what to say.

“I heard you, you know,” he says.

“Heard me?”

“When I was exposed to the artifact.” He lets go of her with one hand to reach up and lightly touch his fingers to her forehead. “I heard you. I don’t need an enchanted tree to tell me what I already know.”

She should feel embarrassed, and maybe two months ago she would have, maybe even two minutes ago, she would have, but not now. She drops her gaze to his mouth and then she looks up into his eyes again. By some unspoken, mutual agreement, they both lean in. Mulder bends and tips his head to the right, Scully lifts onto her toes and lets her eyes slip shut just before his mouth touches hers. The kiss is soft and unhurried. It’s tender and sweet in a way that makes her feel warm and secure.

“I can’t believe this is real,” she whispers against his lips.

“What part of it?”

“All of it.”

“Of course you don’t.” He chuckles and bends down to pick up the leaf he dropped. He twirls it between his fingers and then brushes it against her nose.

“It’s just not possible.”

“All of it?” He cocks his head a little and his eyes fall to her mouth.

“Maybe not all of it.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m having a hard time believing it myself.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.” He smiles, and bends to kiss her again, but she leans away and puts two fingers against his lips.

“Why did you take me up there?” she asks.

“I’ve owed you a nice trip to the forest for about seven years.”

“Is that all?”

“Autumn in New England? I only wish we could’ve found something worthwhile to stick around a little longer.”

“So, you never intended for…”

“For you to start becoming part tree? Not at all.”

“Oh my god, I just can’t...I can’t wrap my brain around it. It’s…” She covers her face with both hands and shakes her head.

Mulder kisses the knuckles on her right hand. “You wouldn’t be you if you believed it. Once upon a time there was a very skeptic little g-woman named Scully.”

“You are not allowed to start any stories with ‘once upon a time’ any longer,” she says, taking her hands away from her face. “Bad things happen in fairy tales.”

“Well you are forgetting one thing though.”

“What?”

“They always end with ‘happily ever after.’”

The End

#i wrote this #xf fanfic #definitely non canon #but set somewhere after The Sixth Extinction: Amor Fati #msr

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

Text

The Oncoming Storm Part 23: Flesh and Bone

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

You find the springs- and it exceeds your expectations but perhaps not in the way you had hoped it would. Something wicked is unfolding.

A/N: I'm going out of town tomorrow but I will do my best to get back to replies as often as I can! Your feedback gives me life <3 I'll be back on Tuesday. You guys probably won't even notice I'm gone, since I've somehow managed to miraculously write enough to cover the space where I won't be around! I'm going to see my family for the first time since the pandemic ;___; !!

Part 22 Part 24 Chapter Index

You drew closer to the wave of clouds above you, and it wasn’t long until you were engulfed by them. It was like the most intense fog you’d ever been in. You had scoured the cliffside for caves along the way but found nothing of note. You stopped walking once you were completely surrounded by the clouds and had long since let go of Liu Kang’s hand.

There was that feeling again. As though you had been lost in this fog before and yet you had never been there. It made you dizzy and you lost sight of Liu in the fog. You could see that man from your vision, walking in front of you, then to the left of you, then to the right. Your head spun and when you closed your eyes, you felt lost. But you weren’t. You knew this place even if you’d never been there. The vision in your head knew it.

You turned and the clouds felt misty on your skin. It was as if you had lost your body and were watching yourself walk through the fog blindly in search of something you weren’t sure that you wanted to find. Then suddenly, very suddenly, as if you were being pulled out of a dream, Liu Kang stood in front of you. Your body was yours again. His right hand was bathed in fire and the shadows it cast on his face were haunting and beautiful.

“Wake up, Y/N.”

He urged his hand to your arm and forced you to look at him. You gasped, your lungs having once again forbidden you air. You closed your eyes tight to shake off the feeling and then searched around you. It was too foggy to tell how far you’d gone but you had the distinct feeling that it hadn’t been very far at all. Liu’s relief was palpable and with a wave of his hand the fire was gone, leaving you in the cold mist of the clouds.

His grip was tight on your arm, as if he were worried that you would walk off again. You caught your breath, chest aching with the lack of it, and knit your brow. “How… how did you know?”

“I just knew.” The concern on his face was valid but the admiration was unexpected. “You’re like flickering lamplight, Y/N. The shadows cast by my flame. I know when you’re not there.” Your tongue was suddenly far too big for your mouth and your heart hurt. You should have kissed him. That was the most romantic thing you had ever heard in your whole damn life. But your chest was aching and your hands were trembling with the fear of losing control of your body. “Do you think that you could lead us using your vision? If it’s taking control of you like that then it clearly wants us to go somewhere.”

“I’m… I can try but I’m afraid.” You were still struggling with air and words. “I don’t know if it’s a good thing it’s leading us. I walked off on Kung Lao and nearly drowned myself yesterday when my vision took over.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. I won’t let go of your hand.” He let his hand move from your arm and down to your fingertips. He leaned closer and whispered. “Trust yourself as much as you trust me.” He stepped back, still holding your hand. You had to try. He was right. If you trusted your gut and it went horribly wrong then Liu would make sure you didn’t jump off a cliff. He was staring back at you, completely relaxed. He trusted you. You could feel it. How could you have ever doubted that? You weren’t sure where to begin but you started with turning off your inner critic. You were unsteady on your feet, unsure of yourself.

“Are you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask. He took both of your hands and walked backwards in front of you which you felt like was a mistake.

“Keep going, Y/N. I trust you. Close your eyes and follow your vision. I will make sure that we’re safe.”

“I…”

“Trust yourself, Y/N.”

You didn’t, that was clear to you both. With a deep exhale, you closed your eyes and then walked. When you walked, Liu walked. You led him blindly along the path through the clouds. The more you walked without plummeting to your deaths, the more confident you felt. And you were in control, which was nice. You walked until he stopped suddenly in front of you, as if he’d run into something. You stumbled into him, letting go of one of his hands to catch the stone behind him, body pressed against his. Eyes fluttering open, Liu let go of your other hand and instead rested both against the sides of your neck. Despite their warmth, they gave you chills.

His thumb brushed over the bruised skin on your neck, other hand gently caressing its way up to your cheek, thumb just beneath your eye. His hands were callused and strong, still somehow soft, controlled just like the rest of him. He had this way of drinking you in, of making you feel like you were something precious and special. You got goosebumps. The pitter-patter of your heart was betraying you, pressed against him like this and it was warranted for more reasons than you could count. The most important of those reasons was Liu Kang.

“You did it,” he whispered but his eyes were on your lips.

“I found it.” You smiled in realization and got the chills. That was a wonderful feeling. It was the first time in ages where you’d trusted your gut and it hadn’t wound up in a complete mess. Without thinking you buried yourself against Liu’s chest, hands gripping at his shirt. You closed your eyes tight and took deep calming breaths.

Don’t get upset.

Don’t cry in front of Liu Kang even if they were happy tears. It had been so long since you’d felt that good.

“What? What is it?” He could sense that you were trying not to get upset and he tucked your hair behind your ear, fixing the flower that had come loose.

“Nothing. I’m just happy.”

“Okay…?”

You lifted yourself from his chest and straightened your posture, but you were hopelessly pressed against him. “So much of these last few weeks with healing and my arcana and the visions… it’s felt like such failure. I’m trying so damn hard and still it seems impossible. One thing after another keeps going wrong and I’m just so grateful to have something work out.”

“Y/N, just because it doesn’t work out how you expect it to, doesn’t mean it’s a failure. You’re learning. Please… be kind to yourself. The shadow hanging over you isn’t any fault of yours. From where I’m standing? You’re doing well.”

God, he was the cutest. So damn sweet. “Thank you, Liu. Thank you for grounding me too. I needed it.”

“Don’t credit me with that. You grounded yourself, Y/N. I just reminded you how to breathe.” He gently took one of your hands from where it was balled up in his shirt and held it in his.

“It’s funny. Sometimes I feel like my brain is such swirling chaos that I’m going to float away, like a leaf on the wind. You have this way of bringing me back and keeping me firmly rooted to the branch.”

“I’m happy to make sure that you don’t float too far for too long if you need me to.” Liu let go of your hand and turned his gaze to his left. His smile faded.

“What? What is it?” You touched his face this time, fingers gently brushing over his cheekbones that curved so perfectly when he smiled. You’d never done that before. He was so handsome that it felt forbidden to touch him.

“Now is not the time. Later. I promise. We have things to do.”

“Yeah. The cave.” You nodded to your right. You hadn’t seen the cavern yet but you knew it was there. He offered a nod to agree.

“Raiden theorizes that these places are protected and changed by the magic that the man from your vision used. He considered that the artifacts could be toxic. The dotaku you found was probably tainted with evil intent in some way.”

“Great, because I had that thing pressed all up against me for way too long.” You frowned. “The monks there said something about it being cursed, too.”

“You seem fine other than the bruises. And the anxiety but I don’t know if that’s related.”

“Tangentially so.” You smiled but then frowned. Kung Lao had been pale that morning. You hoped that he was taking care of himself. “Let’s get this over with.” You stepped away from him, realizing you had essentially pinned him to the wall. He reached into his pockets and pulled out two keychain sized flashlights. He offered one to you and you took it with a smile. “I’m glad one of us was prepared to go into a cave.”

“It was a last-minute purchase.” He admitted with a shrug. The cavern opening, now that you saw it, was not inviting. You never would have found it without your vision. It was less like a cave mouth and more like a fissure. You’d have to stand sideways and scoot inside which was incredibly unappealing. You had to do it though, you reminded yourself.

So, against every instinct in your body, you pressed yourself between the stone walls and scooted. It was uncomfortably tight and you’d had to adjust several times to make it through. If you’d told yourself months ago that you would be doing this then you would have never believed yourself. Liu was right behind you and you helped each other through difficult spaces. Finally, the fissure opened up and you gasped at what lay beyond the tight opening. The air was so humid it was difficult to breathe and there were pools of water glimmering with bioluminescent light. Usually, you would have thought it was beautiful but there was something inherently sinister about it.

The air was foreboding. Liu joined you at your side as you studied the cave that went back into the darkness far beyond your tiny flashlights.

“It’s like the exact opposite of the springs back in the temple.”

“Something dark has corrupted it.” He frowned then walked right into the water like it was nothing. At its deepest point it was up to his thighs.

“You just jump right into that probably cursed water, huh?”

“Yes, and you should join me. I have a feeling that it’s going to be quite a walk and the only way through is in the water.”

“You’re probably right. Is this the opposite of holy water, you think?” You joined him and he offered a shake of his head at your bad joke. You trudged together through the water, following the only path there was to take. You lit your way with the tiny flashlights but even combined it didn’t do much for you. The bioluminescent plant life growing in the pools helped you at least find your path and you were sure if you needed to then Liu would use his fire. It was eerie. In the distance, there was the sound of falling water and it grew ever louder as you approached.

You finally pinpointed what the bad feeling was. It was like you weren’t supposed to be there, and the cave wanted you out. You knew that this was where you were meant to be and whatever wanted you out was that artifact.

“Careful.” You gestured to another fissure in front of you but this one was half full of water. It went on longer than the first one had, and you’d briefly panicked halfway through. Liu had helped you and then you had helped him when he’d gotten stuck at the end. It didn’t get any better after that. The next fissure was lower, and the water was up to his shoulders which meant you had to swim and squeeze your way through.

“Just hold your breath.” He encouraged and you looked to him skeptically but did your best. The water got down your throat a few times as it splashed around your face, but you managed your way through it. Liu continued right behind you, and it was made much more difficult when the path shrunk at the end. He’d nearly gotten stuck. That would have been a disaster. That cavern was low, and the water was so high you had to swim. The sound of water falling was no longer distant but very close. You searched the small corridor with your flashlight, but it was flickering after being submerged in the water. “Where do we go?” He searched above the water but there was barely any space above you.

“You’re going to hate it.” You pointed with an unhappy groan at the cavern beneath the water, completely submerged. This was a nightmare.

“You’re right, I do.” He shook out his wet hair. You ducked beneath the water, allowed your eyes to adjust to the warmth of it and cringed. It was uncomfortable. The springs in your vision had been small and modest. It was like they’d spread like cancer throughout the cavern thanks to that man and whatever artifact he’d hidden there. Then you came back up and turned to him. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, Y/N.”

You ducked beneath the water again, held your breath, and then made your way through the tunnel as quickly and carefully as your body would allow. Just as you thought your lungs would give out, you found a space at the very top of the tunnel that was above the water. It was barely enough for you to tilt your head up and regain your breath but it was more than you needed.

Then you ducked under again and were grateful when the cave opened up and you could bring your head above water into a much, much larger space. The water was way deeper there too and you gasped greedily for breath. Then you turned and waited for Liu Kang to follow you. Seconds later, he popped up next to you, also gasping for breath.

The cavern was huge and you found the source of the rushing water. It poured from an opening above that led to the mountain outside. You caught a glimpse of a tree beyond, but just barely. Water poured from a river from the precipice and down onto two other ledges in between before ultimately falling into the pool that you and Liu had emerged in. There was dry land on either side of the deep pool and you were looking forward to it. Never again if you could avoid it.

Liu reached for your hair to push it back and looked disappointed to find that the flower had gone. You searched the water for it and sighed. You’d forgotten it was there. “Sorry.” You pouted and he smiled anyway. The air in the chamber was heavy and you were set on edge, like something terrible could happen at any moment. Liu was moving toward the shallower water and talking but you couldn’t hear him. There was a high-pitched squeal in your ears.

Liu called to you, but his voice was distant and fading. You couldn’t quite remember why he would be with you or where you were or what you were doing. You turned in search of him, but he was gone.

You were alone and made your way to the shallower water, crawling out just enough so it was up to your thighs. When you turned back, there was a man standing before you. It was him. The creature from your vision and you saw him plain as day. His skin was gray and mysterious patterns shifted beneath the surface, his white eyes surrounded by red flesh, as if he had never slept a day in his life. He wore a hat that fit to the form of his head and curved up into horns. When you blinked, he was standing uncomfortably close in front of you, and you stumbled back. He sneered and the flesh melted from his face, revealing the fanged skull beneath it.

“Who are…” You tried to ask but you choked on your words as his hand plunged into your chest, tearing at your flesh like it was nothing. Pain radiated through your shoulders, down your stomach, and you were blinded by it. You would have collapsed if he had not been holding you in his death grip. His cold fingers wrapped around your heart and you saw your blood ooze down his arm and drench your shirt.

He was killing you.

You were dying.

When you looked back up at him, he was gone but the pain remained. You collapsed into the water, the ground disappearing from beneath your feet as though you had never step foot upon it. You couldn’t breathe.

But you could hear again. The ringing had stopped, and you could hear combat above the water. Through it, you could see the light of Liu’s arcana as he fought off many creatures you couldn’t make out from there. He was trying to get to you but the shapes were overwhelming him. You watched, as if in slow motion, as one of those shapes burned up. Then he was thrown back into the water with a splash and the fire was doused with a hiss of steam.

You panic-swam to the surface. Liu was being held beneath the water by skeletal creatures in tattered robes and tarnished jewelry. They were pulling him further into the deep pool. You grasped at your chest suddenly and discovered there was no wound. It had been an illusion or a vision or something.

There was no time. You had to get to Liu.

You bashed the creature aside that had been pushing him under but there were others pulling him further and further. Taking a deep breath, you dove into the water and willed your ink into your jian. You hadn’t been certain it would work under the water but were pleased to find that it was solid. You slashed one of the creatures to pieces and swam out of the way of another. Then you knocked the one holding Liu away.

He was struggling to keep his breath, hand grasped over his mouth. You pushed his hand aside and pressed your lips to his, offering him the little breath you had left. Then you urged your arm under his and helped kick to the surface. You both gasped for breath, and he coughed up water. You urged him back behind you, defending you both with the jian so he had a chance to regain himself and get to dry land.

The moment he had his footing, he grasped at the natural energy around him and bathed his fists in fire. He twisted and threw the flames and several of the skeletal creatures stumbling toward you burned up. But they didn’t stay down for long. Either they rebuilt themselves or there were tons of them. You twisted with your jian, ducking, and slicing at them as they drew closer, finishing them off when Liu’s fire didn’t.

“This isn’t working!” He coughed as more of them crawled out of the water toward you.

“There’s too many.” You backed up to join him on the small shoreline. If these things kept crawling back to life, then you would be at this until you were exhausted and one of you slipped up. You had to do something drastic. You’d mimicked Kung Lao in Japan but you hadn’t been sure how you’d done it. Could you mimic other things? “You thought that my arcana could mimic things, right?”

“Yeah, you mimicked my hand when you first showed me. Haven’t had much time to train, have we?”

“Could you keep me safe while I try something?”

“Of course.” Liu stepped in front of you and, fists still engulfed in flame, and went after the creatures as they came close. Watching him fight was amazing. It was almost like a dance. Stepping back to offer him more space to fight, you worked with your ink magic. You’d been able to draw with it when you’d been fighting against the tar creature in Japan so why not try that?

Bracing yourself for the energy it would take, you focused on the creatures as they fell beneath Liu’s skilled hands. He stepped back from them and bounced in ready position, extinguishing his fire. You focused only on the space and your ink, your will to make it. Your mind cleared of all other thoughts. Liu stepped back in surprise as you drew solid walls around the creatures, and they filled with ink. Then you slammed your hands together and the walls crushed the creatures trapped within. You felt the crash of those walls rattle through your arms and into your shoulders.

“Damn.” Liu turned to you with admiration. You relaxed your posture but didn’t get to do so for long. Water exploded in a fountain and rained down over you. A huge creature made of bones and skulls rose from the water. It hissed and creaked awkwardly. Its many arms wielded old, rusted weaponry. You summoned your jian back into your hand and stepped up next to Liu who turned back into his stance, hands bathed in fire again.

You waited for the creature to strike. It raised its arms and swung down toward you. You leapt away from the blows. Liu ducked under another and set the arm ablaze and then kicked another back. You leapt over the one he’d kicked and sliced it at the arm and then cut another that was grasping for Liu. You ducked low, rolled back and then knocked the weapon out of another’s grasp. You were always aware of where Liu Kang was. It was unlike any other fight you’d ever been in. It was almost like you’d choreographed it before you’d started. You were so in tune with each other’s energy that you could sense what he was about to do before he did it. You stepped back to allow Liu to keep the creature at bay and with the jian as a pen, you created a heavy chain with ink that attached to the shore. It dripped and then crystallized into form, wrapping around the creature.

Liu rolled over the chain and then knocked the creature back as it pulled, trying to free itself with wild thrashing. Liu flipped backwards and threw fire at the creature that then swatted at him, howling in agony. You leapt atop the chain and ran closer to the creature. You flipped atop the mass that held its many arms. It swung at you wildly and you leapt to the other side of its many heads. With a flourish you drew another chain to wrap around the creature but before you could finish, you were grabbed and thrown back toward the shore.

Liu leapt and caught you, and then gracefully set you down. You bounced to your feet, and you finished the chain and then spun low to the ground, smacking your hand against the stone so that it locked next to the first one. The monster couldn’t move far now but you had to finish it off before you ran out of steam, or it found a way to escape.

Liu nodded toward the creature that thrashed at the chains. They groaned beneath the force. It wouldn’t be held much longer. You threw your jian and it faded into ink and then you mimicked the water, and a wave of ink coated the creature. Ink was flammable. It would smell horrible, but you hoped it would work. “Now, Liu!”

He stepped back, braced his footing and his hand was engulfed in flame, so much so that his flesh seemed to glow orange and crack with bright light. Ducking low, he swung upward and from the water behind the creature, a massive dragon made of fire and lava rose high above it. With a low crouch and a spin of his arms, he slammed his hand to the ground and the dragon opened its great maw and attacked the creature. The ink caught fire just as you had hoped and the creature howled, consumed by flame. Then it stopped thrashing and began to fall toward you with the last bit of its strength.

The shore wasn’t wide enough for you to stay on it, so you grabbed Liu’s arm and you ran from the creature that swept toward you, ablaze, and leapt into the water together. The creature fell after you, its bones scorching and disintegrating as it did. You dove deep beneath the water but as you made your way to the opposite shore, it grabbed your ankle and pulled. You choked and your breath escaped, and you got a mouthful of water and had to resist the urge to breathe and swallow. You fought against the creature’s fading grasp but your lungs were aching so badly that you could do little but kick and flail upward and hope it got you there.

But then Liu’s arm was around you and he pulled you free of its grasp and dragged you above the water. You choked and spat out water, but your lungs were in agony. He pushed your hair back and held you above the water. “Breathe! Breathe, Y/N!”

“Trying.” You croaked and water sputtered past your lips. It was burning at your throat and your lungs, but he had gotten to you before it had gotten worse. You dragged each other to the opposite shore and then Liu urged you to lay back so you could focus on breathing. Then he collapsed on his back next to you to do the same.

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allthingskakashi · 4 years

Note

Hi! Coul a request a scenario that involves Sukea please? Like the reader has a crush on Kakashi and he finds out because her friends tease her in front of sukea and then Kakashi asks her on a date idk if I’m making a point, or can just do anything you wish that involves him pleasee? Thank you ♥️

Okay first of all, that's a really innovative idea!! I loved it. Secondly, I'm sorry it took me so long to get to this but ahh well here it is now and i really hope you like it ❤️

• Serendipity •

[Kakashi x Reader] || 3k words

a/n : ugh tbh I've been running a little low on creativity lately which is why i hadn't posted anything for like a week but i also didn't wanna go without writing anything so well... I tried. 😩

You sit in the small dumpling restaurant with your friends Kurenai and Anko. Beyond you, the falling dusk envelopes your village in mystical hues of blue and red. It’s Friday, which means the weekend has rolled in after a long and tiresome week. The thought of being off duty for the next two days lifts your spirits, and you look forward to spending the time relaxing at home in your own company.

The evening is busy, streets bustling, vibrant with the hustle of villagers; some heading for a night out with friends, some returning home to spend time with family, some getting ready to go out on a date, everyone looking like they have somewhere to be, something to do.

You sigh, shoving a dumpling in your mouth.

“Why the long face?”, Anko asks between chomps.

“It’s nothing” you shrug, your tone failing to fool anyone.

There’s a soft creak as the gate to the shop opens behind you, a small gust of air whooshing in from outside. The merry chatter in the room comes to a sudden halt, to be replaced by sounds of hushed murmurs and whispers. You glance at the group of women sitting in the table ahead of you, staring at something with mouths open wide in awe. Ahead of you, Anko’s eyebrows are furrowed, a curious smile touching the corner of her lip.

You turn behind, wanting to catch a glimpse of whatever it is that has managed to elicit such a response from the entire room.

Your eyes fall upon a handsome young man, who has just now walked into the restaurant and taken a seat behind you. You feel your heart skip a beat. He’s easily one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. A mop of thick brown hair adorns his head, a tint of purple on his eyelids and stripes of the same colour running across both cheeks. His face is sharp with an angled jawline and he has on a long trench coat with a scarf around his neck. He’s also holding a camera, you notice.

Probably an outsider.

A waitress walks over to him, standing by him and twirling a curl of hair, visibly enchanted by his charms.

Someone thumps the front of your table, startling you. “Jeez y/n, get a grip!” Anko’s voice brings your attention back to your friends as you finally tear your eyes away from the mysterious man in the table behind you.

“What? I wasn’t checking him out” you sputter, unnerved.

“We didn’t say you were”, Kurenai chimes in.

You feel your face getting hot as red tinges your cheeks and you look away, avoiding your friends’ eyes.

“Hey, why don’t you go talk to him? Maybe ask him out?” Kurenai says, her eyes lighting up.

You open your mouth to say something, but Anko cuts in.

“Because she’d rather sit around pining for Kakashi and doodling his name on her diary. How long has it been now? 7 years?”

Kurenai giggles, but puts a comforting arm around your shoulder.

“Alright now, go easy on her”, she says kindly. “But she’s got a point y/n. You and Kakashi have known each other for a long time. You’ve kept your feelings to yourself for years now, I really think it’s time you go out and do something about it. Who knows, maybe he feels the same way about you. Why don’t you give it a shot?”

You let out another sigh and look at your lap. “I just don’t think it’s the right time yet.”

But that was a lie. You’d had feelings for Kakashi ever since you were a teenager. You had always been friends, but you wanted more. You loved being in his company and you had a lot of mutual respect and admiration for each other. But you could never bring yourself to just say the words to Kakashi. There were times when you almost blurted it out, and times when you felt like maybe he felt the same way about you too… but they may have been delusions, for all you knew. You didn’t know anything for certain. And that’s what stopped you from gathering up the courage to say it to him. You told yourself and your friends who knew that you would someday, when the time is right, but it was all a big fat lie. You were scared, and that was the truth, as much as you hated to admit it.

You watch Anko roll her eyes as Kurenai exhales, tilting her head.

“Y/n…It’ll never be the right time. Just do it. You’ve taken down S-rank criminals, you can handle this. Trust me, even the copy ninja can’t resist THAT” Kurenai cheers, grazing her eyes up and down over you with a suggestive smile, her voice encouraging. You chuckle, waving your hand dismissively in embarrassment.

“Look”, Anko interjects in her matter-of-fact voice. “Kakashi’s a wuss. If you wanna get it on with him, you gotta make the move. He’s even worse than you so pussy up and ask him. If I have to hear another of your lovelorn sighs one more time, I’ll go tell him myself.” She says, shoving her last dumpling in her mouth and gulping down a glass of water.

You’d been friends with Anko long enough to know not to put it past her. Besides, they were right. It HAD been very long. Perhaps you really did need to pussy up.

Ughhhhh. Why couldn’t this be easier?

“Anyway, I’m gonna go hit the bar. Any of you suckers wanna join me?” Anko asks, getting up from her chair.

“I can’t. I invited my team over for dinner tonight so I’ll get going.”, Kurenai says, collecting her purse and getting ready to leave as well.

“It’s okay, you guys go. I’ve got some things to do” you say, waving them off.

You watch your friends go out the exit and disappear along the curve of the street. Truth is, you kind of want to be alone, maybe take a walk around the village, gather your thoughts. This conversation with your friends today stirred something in you and you need time to think. You’d let things go on as they were for very long now, but it was time you took matters in your own hands.

Putting the bill down on the table, you head towards the door. Your eyes fall where the man was sitting but the seat is empty now, and you catch him ahead of you, just a few steps away, also heading towards the door. You stand close behind him, clutching your purse to your rib as he opens the door. His elbow juts out, knocking the bag out of your hand as it falls to the ground.

For a quick second you think it’s a thief and you’re almost about to strike a blow but the man crouches down quickly with an “I’m so sorry”, picking your purse up and holding it out to you.

Up close this way, you can see his eyes. There’s something familiar about them but you can’t put your finger on what it is. “Thanks” you mutter, taking the purse from him, your mind still trying to comprehend why this man you’ve never seen before feels so familiar.

“Are you a tourist? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before”, you ask, concealing the suspicion in your tone.

Your village is a small one and almost every face is familiar. Having a visitor in the village is quite unheard of and your instincts tell you that something feels off.

He clears his throat before answering. “Hi, I’m Sukea. I’m a reporter from the Land of Fire. I’m here to conduct research for an article” the man replies, almost in an automated tone but with a smile that immediately softens his features. He’s got a mole under his bottom lip, you notice.

Gosh, that’s a pretty face.

Before you have the chance to say anything else or ask more questions, he mumbles that he’s getting late for something and turns away, hurrying down the street.

You stand there, watching him go.

Weird.

But you’ve got other things to think about now, decisions to make, so you shake the thoughts of this mystery man off your head, although you can’t help mulling over why he felt so eerily familiar.

You walk down your usual route in the quieter part of the village. Walks always somehow help you clear your mind. The air has cooled down now and there’s a slight chill in the air. A sweet smell of flowers wafts through. You lose track of time walking around the entire village, over the cliff, through the forests, by the stream which shimmers under the moonlight.

It’s almost ten by the time you reach home and the walk makes your calves ache. Probably wasn’t such a good idea to go on such a long walk after injuring yourself on your last mission.

You freshen up and throw yourself down on your bed, glad for the two days of rest that awaits you.

Pulling the blanket over your head, you turn to your side and close your eyes. Kakashi’s face appears almost instantly, the images playing a montage in your head.

His smile that makes buds bloom into flowers… his laughter so pure like a young boy’s…his silver hair which sparkles in the sun, making you want to run your fingers through it… the warmth of his voice when he talks to you-- and suddenly something goes off in your brain. Like a flame igniting. Or rather, a long burning flame finally receiving emancipation. There’s a jolt through your veins and you think—Tomorrow. I’ll tell him tomorrow.

And before you have time to process the sudden thought, languor takes over your body, lulling you to sleep.

You’re up early the next morning, the jolt from last night still coursing through your veins. You’re feeling pretty confident, more than you ever have. Today’s the day you tell him.

But first, you have to head over to the Missions Desk to submit your report. You bash yourself for putting it off till now.

The day outside is beautiful, white cotton clouds floating aimlessly across the azure sky. A pleasant breeze tickles your skin in soft whispers.

You reach the main office and submit your file. The room is empty, except for the people working behind the desks. The man in front of you takes your file, checking the date of your mission and you’re sure you can see a look of judgement flash across his eyes.

You almost feel a little guilty.

“You know, all the other jounins have submitted their reports already” he mutters, not looking up from your file.

“Well actually…”

There’s a voice behind you, and you turn around at the sheepish tone of the familiar voice. Your heart instantly paces up. Kakashi. There’s a file in his hand too. You can’t help the smile that escapes.

You look at him as he comes forward, handing his file over. The man shoots him a similar glance and shakes his head, but doesn’t say anything. You can tell that this must not be the first time. Kakashi smiles sweetly at him, before turning away and looking at you.

“Y/n! Didn’t think I’d run into you here…”

Your blood pounds in your ears as you recall the resolve you made to yourself last night. You’d promised yourself you’d tell him today but right now, in this way? You weren’t ready for this. You hadn’t prepared what you were gonna say, or how you’d say it. A hundred thoughts run through your head.

Hell with my resolve. This really isn’t the right time. I can’t do this.

But on the other hand…

Your brain goes at odds with your heart as you realise you haven’t answered Kakashi yet.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice concerned.

You straighten up, composing yourself.

“Oh hey yeah, I’m fine! I’m great. What’re you upto?”

“Just got a few things I need to do”, he shrugs, walking beside you as the two of you come out of the office into the main corridor of the Hokage Mansion.

“Right. Got any missions this weekend?” you ask, stalling to give yourself time to think clearly.

“Nope. You?”

“No. You?”

“You already asked me”, he chuckles. “So uh. Where are you headed?”

Ugh. This is a disaster.

“Just the market. I… I need to buy fish for dinner”

You feel your palms getting clammy as the air starts to feels too tight. You look at Kakashi out of the corner of your eye and you notice.

He looks nervous too. He’s fidgeting with his hands and there’s something strange about him.

“Well…uh” he stutters, rubbing his neck with his hand before looking at you. “maybe you don’t.”

You look up at him, your eyes wide and face scrunched up in confusion. You’re outside the tower now, standing on the street.

“I…don’t?”

He scratches the back of his head.

“Uh…I mean…I’ve got fish.”, he stammers. There’s a very visible tint of red on his cheeks.

You’re utterly wrapped in confusion by now, and you wonder why he’s acting so strange. Unsure of where he’s getting with that, you say, “Um…That’s nice. Where do you buy fish from? I’ve heard the market by the Temple is good for seafood. I haven’t had the chance to try it out myself though.”

Mother Earth please swallow me whole.

Kakashi lets out a nervous laugh, still fidgeting around with his hands and looking everywhere but directly at you.

“Y/n what I’m saying is…maybe you don’t need to buy fish for dinner because” he looks at you from under his shaggy bangs,which fall over his eyes in the absence of his headband. The tint of his cheeks deepens. “well, because I was thinking maybe you could come over…and I could…cook dinner for the both of us...? Or um go out, whatever you’d like” he says, immediately looking away.

You’d never thought it was possible for the calm and cocky Kakashi Hatake to look this nervous. It’s quite a sight. You might have laughed at it if you weren’t just as nervous yourself.

“Like on a date?” you ask, shock evident in your tone. Your heart is battering in your chest.

This is a very, very surprising turn of events.

“Well…yes”, he breathes, barely meeting your eyes now.

You can hear your heart in your ears. And suddenly, it feels like spring has bloomed inside your heart. Not just your heart but everywhere around you. Like you’ve been transported to a meadow and there’s only flowers and rainbows and butterflies all around.

A breeze passes through, sending a few petals from nearby trees floating along the street. Strands of your hair blow into your eyes.

You sweep them away, looking up at him to see him looking at you, his eyes hopeful, waiting.

You meet his gaze with your burning eyes and smile, tucking another loose strand behind your ear.

“I’d love that” you say before looking down, your tone barely containing the ecstasy you feel within. You feel the chirp of a thousand birds singing inside your heart.

His eyes light up, mouth forming into a grin as you see the muscles on his face relaxing visibly.

Kakashi’s eyes crinkle from the smile and he says, “Well then…I’ll see you for dinner.”

He starts walking away, before turning back and calling out “Oh and yes, I do buy my fish from the market by the temple.”

And with that, he turns away grinning, disappearing with a whoosh, leaving you to stand there, still in shock and gaping after him; wondering which stars had aligned, what forces in the universe had conjoined and what twist of fate had occurred, turning your life around, making you the happiest woman in the world, in the span of just one day.

* * *

Aaand a lil bonus addition :-

It’d been around two months that you and the silver haired jounin of the Leaf had been together. Almost everyone in the village knew by now and it had been two months of pure unadulterated bliss. You fit so well together, it felt as if you’d never been apart.

Today was just another lazy afternoon, with you and Kakashi in bed, entangled in each other’s arms, neither one of you wanting to leave your little heaven on earth.

You intertwine your fingers with Kakashi’s, backing into him so you’re pressed against the warmth of his body.

“Hey, Kakashi?” you whisper.

“Hm?” he replies, sleep mangling his voice.

“I’ve always wondered. Why did you ask me out that day? You told me you’d liked me for a long time too. So… why not before? Why that day?”

He chuckles softly into your hair, pulling you closer with his arm.

“Well” he says, almost in a whisper. “I thought it was time I stopped being a wuss.”

“Huh?”

“It had been a really long time and… I thought it was time to, how do I put this, pussy up.” he says into your neck, his voice calm, but with just a tinge of amusement.

WAIT A MINUTE-

You jerk up on the bed, freeing yourself of his grip and turning to face him.

A subtle smile plays across his lips but his face is tranquil, giving nothing away.

Panic rises in you and you shake his arm vigorously. “KAKASHI! HOW-HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?”

He doesn’t stir, eyes closed tight, pretending to be sleeping.

“KAKASHI TELL ME RIGHT NOW” you continue shaking him, but it’s in vain, the man doesn’t stir.

You sigh, replaying the day from two months ago in your head, ravaging your brain for any possible hint. And just like that, it dawns upon you.

“Oh my god—That was you.” You blurt, everything suddenly clicking into place in your head. You feel like a fool for not realising sooner.

He remains unmoving, eyes closed shut. But you don’t miss the slight wrinkle of his mask as his lips upturn into a grin beneath it.

“That was you, wasn’t it??? It was! You sneaky little bastard!” you shriek, jabbing at his arm with a few pokes, but it does nothing.

“Kakashi!”

“Ssshh, I’m sleeping” he whispers in fake slumber, a smile grazing his mouth as he wraps his arm around you, pulling you back into the bed with him.

“Did you really just shush m- “ you begin in protest, but your sentence remains unfinished as he presses his mouth onto yours, catching your lips in a kiss and shutting you up before you can say more.

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angelifylove · 3 years

Text

DRIVE - [A.I]

Title: Drive - Ashton Irwin x Platonic!Reader

Song: Drive by Ashton Irwin

Summary: Ashton and reader have been friends since the moment the band moved to California. Recently though, the best friends have to conquer an emotional task; the reader’s father passes. They decided to take a little road trip.

Word Count: 4,348 words

Warnings: familial death, slight mentions of starving, drowning (suicidal) attempt, unrequited love

Masterlist

I know that you're hurtin', I know you still care

I know his voicemails sound like a lullaby

I feel that you're hurtin', I know it's not fair

I know his words still ring like bells in the back of your head

The woman rushes out of her car, heading straight towards the front door of the house of her best friend. She bangs on the door, her breathing pace increases as she stands there waiting for him. Her impatience makes her bang more on the door.

“Ashton Fletcher Irwin, open this damn door!” She screams at the door. There she sees the woman on the other side stand.

“I’ll go get him,” is all Kaykay had to say before she ran over to where Ashton was hiding. (Y/N) walks into the home, closing the door behind her. The emotions start to flood her senses when she sees Ashton round the corner. His eyes land on her, seeing the tears well up in her eyes. She runs over to him, holding onto him tight. Ashton holds onto her, rubbing her back as she lets go. Breaking down in his arms, he couldn’t help but wonder what happened for her to be here. Ashton suddenly pulls away a bit, gesturing his head towards the couch nearby. She sniffles, doing her best to hold her tears in. They get on the couch, her right back into his safe arms. He always knew how to make her feel safe again.

“What’s wrong, bear,” he uses the nickname for her. She looks up at him before pulling her phone out. She goes to voicemail, staring at the recent contact to leave her the voicemail. She plays the voicemail to Ashton, closing her eyes as she realizes this is one of the few things she has left of him.

“Hey, honey! I know you never pick your phone up but I decided to call to talk to you about dinner tomorrow night. If you could, just call me whenever you’re free. I wanna make your mom’s birthday great this year.” The voicemail ends, leaving the room silent. (Y/N) leans her head onto his chest again. Throwing her phone on the empty space on the couch.

“Ash… he got into a… a horrible… a horrible accident… the doctors said… they said they did the best they could.” Ashton’s heart drops, holding her closer to him. He closes his eyes, finally getting the clue in on what she meant. Tears fall down from her eyes again, they slowly grow red as she feels more alone than ever before. He continues holding onto her, not planning on letting go. Around two hours later, she sits in his arms with red eyes and puffy cheeks. Sniffles were the only noise in the air.

“I think we should go for a drive… like old times?” Ashton suggested to her. She looks up at her best friend, a small smile appearing on her face.

“I’d like that.”

We could take a drive downtown to the Pacific Coast

We could work it all out, tell me where it hurts most

We could tie another knot between us in some hope

We could, we could, we could, we could

The two sit in the car as Ashton drives. (Y/N)’s emotions were everywhere, she shouldn’t be the one behind the wheel right now. He looks at her, checking up on the silent woman in his car. She lets the small huff out, seeing the usual sightings. It was the middle of the day and she hadn't eaten anything since yesterday’s lunch. She was too busy stressing over him in the hospital. The windows were rolled down on that sunny day… the day didn’t feel too sunny to her. She just wants it to end already. Everything to end.

“Do you want to tell me… where it hurts?” Ashton asks her, breaking the frozen air on the warm day. She looks at him, seeing the look of concern written on his face as he continues to drive the car. She looks away from him, tearing filling her eyes again.

“I have… a raging headache,” she confesses the pain in her head from all the crying she’s done. He nods his head, pointing at the glovebox. She opens it to see the small bottle filled with ibuprofen. She gets the three pills, looking at the water bottle he had brought with him.

“You can drink out of it,” he says to her simply, already knowing the question she was going to ask. She nods her head, grabbing the bottle. She gets a mouthful of water before putting the pills in her mouth. With a quick swallow, the pills and water in her mouth was gone and down her throat. She puts the water bottle back, going to look out the window.

“My heart hurts too. You know, I’ve never experienced this before. I thought I would be alright and have come to terms with him gone. He wasn’t the best towards me like he probably should have been. But now that he’s actually gone… I don’t know what to do really.” Ashton nods his head towards her. He’s heard all the stories about him from her. He wasn’t the best of a role model for her like he was towards her siblings/cousins. She stares outside the window, tears going back to her eyes.

“I thought I would be a bit happy with him gone but I’m not. I wasn’t done with him.” (Y/N) sits there as she watches the buildings and signs past by. Some cars here and there but Ashton isn’t the best driver in California. She looks at him as he drives, seeing him bite the insides of his cheeks from the fact he wished he could help her with anything she wanted.

Ashton finally gets the car at the destination, a cliff that the two found one night driving around. Back then, they were younger and a bit more carefree. It was the first time they came up with the idea of driving around to explain their emotions to one another. The small road trips managed to make them feel better. But never have they gone on a drive for a death. Ashton isn’t too sure if she will bounce back right after the drive like usual. Sitting in the back on top of the small car’s trunk, the woman stares at the beautiful view. The cliff stares right towards the water of the Pacific coast. Even from high up, she could still hear the crashing of the waves. Wind blowing on her body makes her feel more alone. But he was there, holding her hand, watching her take the scene in as usual.

“Just drive,” is all she says before hopping off the trunk. She lets go of Ashton’s hand, heading back to her seat inside the car. Ashton stares at her inside the car, watching her slowly break down again. Her face in her hands as her body shudders. He looks away, back at the ocean. The scene did nothing for her. She never suddenly wants to leave after just arriving at their spot. He looks back at her in the car, realizing she truly is broken without him.

We could take a drive downtown to the Pacific Coast

We could work it all out, tell me wherе it hurts most

We could tie another knot bеtween us in some hope

We could, we could, we could, we could

Ashton drives the car in the forest, stopping for gas fifteen minutes ago. They have never driven this far away from home. He knows he’ll have to call Kaykay whenever they stop for dinner soon. She’s always been understanding of the friendship and how much these drives seem to help one another in the end.

“The suns going down… we should stop somewhere for dinner soon,” Ashton tells her. (Y/N) nods her head, staring out the window. She blinks a bit, her eyes no longer red but pink. A sniffle in response makes Ashton know she’s still alive at least.

“Have you eaten anything today?” He looks at her, seeing her shake her head. He lets the small sigh out, understanding what she meant a bit.

“I’ve been so stressed out since the accident,” she confesses to him. He continues driving as the windows start to get rolled up. He soon notices the small town, driving straight towards it. Looking around, he finds a small diner and parks the car outside of the building. He looks at (Y/N), she reluctantly takes her seatbelt off. Getting out of the car, Ashton follows along with her. He locks the car as she heads towards the diner’s front door. Walking inside with Ashton after her, they head over to the first booth her eyes land on. A woman walks over to them, her eyes land on (Y/N).

“Oh honey… it’s going to get better,” the woman says towards her. She just nods her head, not feeling the need to say anything.

“Do you have cheeseburgers?” Ashton asks the waitress. She nods her head, he looks at Ashton. He knows he should just order something for (Y/N). He orders her go-to order at restaurants she isn’t too familiar with, getting the drink she likes. He orders himself his own food before the waitress leaves the table. He pulls his phone out, seeing the worried texts from Kaykay.

“Bear, I have to go call Kay real quick, I’ll be back real quick.” She nods her head towards him, letting Ashton leave the booth. He walks outside, glancing at (Y/N) every other second to make sure she seems okay. He puts his phone to his ear, soon hearing Kaykay’s worried voice.

“Is everything fine? You guys would typically be back by now.” Ashton nods his head, closing his eyes.

“Her father passed away… I think our drive for today may go on for days.” He hears his girlfriend take a deep breath on the other side.

“I understand, tell her my condolences and text me updates. I worry about her more than you to tell you the truth.” Ashton laughs a bit, hearing his girlfriend so worried for his best friend. He looks at the booth, seeing (Y/N)’s hands covering face.

“I have to go, love you.”

“Love you too, now go help her.” Ashton hangs up the phone call, getting inside the diner again. He sits on (Y/N)’s side of the booth, pulling her in for the hug. She breaks down more in his arms again. He rests his chin on the top of her head, sighing as he rubs the circles on her back. The waitress comes back with their drinks and food. She soon leaves the check behind, he sees that the waitress seemed to have been nice and wrote that the meals were on the house. He knows better to leave a tip for the waitress on being so kind.

“Bear, it’s time to eat,” he softly spoke as he pulled her away from him. He helps her wipe her tears away, her nodding her head towards him. She starts with her drink first before staring at her food.

“At least try to eat… for me,” he pleas her. (Y/N) lets the small sigh out before nodding her head. She starts to eat the food he ordered her. He knows her too well. Ashton starts to eat before the small memory goes through his head.

“Do you know why I call you bear?” He looks at her, seeing her shake her head.

“Bears are one of the toughest animals I know yet they can be the most caring animals ever. They fight for family and do everything they can to protect them. They’re resourceful and do they love their sleep just like you. You’re my bear, (Y/N).” She looked at him, raising an eyebrow but finally for the first time that day, he saw a small smile on her face.

“Really?”

“That and just because of those baby pictures of you dressed as a bear for Halloween,” he was quick to tease her. She hits him playfully with her elbow. He sees her continue eating. Ashton smiles seeing her at least a bit happy on a horrible day.

Just drive, just drive, just drive tonight

Sitting in the car as Ashton drives to the closest motel nearby according to the waitress. He left the woman with a thirty dollar tip. He felt bad for her not letting them pay for their meal. He stops the car outside of the entrance to go get a room. He looks at (Y/N), seeing her asleep in the car. He smiles a bit, happy to at least see her seem to be at ease for once today. He heads inside the motel before coming out with a key to a two bedded room. He drives the car down to where the room should be, parking in front of it. He gets out of the car before getting (Y/N) out. He helped her out, hearing her groan at the fact she had to wake up a bit. Her eyes were still closed as he held his arm around her waist. Getting her inside the bedroom, he gets her to lay on the closest bed. He locks the door behind him before looking at her trying to get under the warm covers. He smiles at her, shaking his head at the sight. He walks over to the other bed, sitting down as he kicks his shoes off. He realized he didn’t see her do that with her own. He stands up, rounding the bed to see her shoes on the floor. He nods his head, realizing he doesn’t need to be so worried for her.

The following morning, after breakfast, they were back in the car heading home. (Y/N) continues staring at the world in the silence with Ashton. He has the music in the background this time, believing she’s at least a bit better after yesterday.

I'm here for you when the world is falling down

I'll be with you when the world is falling down

Down, down, down

(Y/N) notices the happy things in life, wishing she could feel what they were experiencing since she seemed to be unable to at the moment. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath in before the idea goes through her head.

“The beach.”

“What?”

“Take me to the beach.” Ashton looks at her, seeing her stare right at him with those (e/c) eyes. He nods his head before looking away from her. He continues driving the car, noticing the closest beach is about fifteen minutes away from them. Once arriving at the beach, he lets her go before checking his phone. There he sees the text messages from his other best friend being worried. Calum was panicking that (Y/N) hasn’t been answering any of his texts recently apparently. Ashton picks his phone up after he hits the call button. He watches the girl walk towards the sand, kicking her shoes off and taking the socks off before stepping on the white powder. He hears the phone ring two times before Calum finally picks it up.

“Ash, what’s happening?” Ashton takes a deep breath in, he continues watching (Y/N) walk towards the ocean after she puts her shoes and socks down on the small wall.

“Has Kaykay talked to you?”

“Nothing. I’m really worried, Ash. She leaves me on read and I know something’s up.”

“Someone in her family passed,” is all Ashton could bring himself to say. Calum went silent on the other side.

“Oh god, I’m an asshole.” Ashton’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion on what Calum meant by that.

“Cal, she hasn’t told anyone really. I know the feelings you have for her so it makes sense for you to worry. Don’t worry and just give her time to… grieve.” Ashton soon realizes (Y/N) was heading straight towards the water. He couldn’t help but look at the flags, seeing the yellow flag. Worry went through him as he watched her enter the water.

“Cal, I have to go. I’ll text you later!” Ashton quickly hangs up the phone before he gets out of the car. He makes his way to her shoes, staring at them before looking up to see his best friend in the water. He shot off towards her, not caring about his clothes and shoes with the sand or the thought of them getting wet. He noticed his friend wasn’t trying to swim or anything. He gets to her the moment the water reaches her neck. He instantly wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Let me go!” She screams as she instantly thrashes in her best friend’s arms. He starts to head back to the shore as best as he could. The current was strong and he was surprised he managed to get to her so quick.

“I need to talk to him! Tell him I loved him and not hate him!” She screams at Ashton to let her go. Finally getting close to land, he pulls her into the hug as the waves hit their legs.

“(Y/N) don’t, he knows, trust me. Please don’t.” The woman breaks into his arms once more, tears streaming down her cold face. Ashton could feel his heart beating out of his chest as the tears started to go down his own face. He pulls away and puts his hands on the cheeks of her face.

“Don’t ever do that again. I know you two didn’t get along and that you want to change that but trust me, he knows you love him. As much as you didn’t show it, he knew you looked up to him. That is enough for him. Please, please, don’t leave early just for someone who knows that you love them,” Ashton begs of her as the realization sinks into what she just almost had done. She looks at the ocean before looking at Ashton.

“I don’t know what’s happening anymore, Ash,” she whimpers to him before he brings her back into another hug.

“Don’t worry, bear, everything will be okay again.”

The violent voice is loud and deafening

Red lights, they burn us out like kerosene

The future's not so clear, I'll help you see

There's so much more to life than you and me

Standing outside as the priest continues on with his sermon. (Y/N) stares at the wooden casket, not knowing what to feel in that moment. She looks to her right, seeing her mother cry into her tissue as her cousin holds the box full of tissues for her mother. (Y/N) looks down at the black outfit she wears, feeling confused about the color she once wore as a way to express herself often. She looks back at the casket before looking to her left to see her best friend standing there. He stood besides her in the time she needed him the most. She looks down at his hand, grabbing onto it. She looks back up at Ashton, seeing him snap his head towards her direction. Tears forming in her eyes, doing her best to blink them away. He looks at the casket before looking at her. She nods her head, knowing he wanted to make sure if she was alright.

The funeral comes to an end and everyone goes their separate ways for the day. (Y/N) still holds onto Ashton’s hand in an almost death grip, never wanting to let go it seemed. They get over to his car, she stares at the headstone that she can see others still gather around. She stares before looking at Ashton.

“Take me home please.” He nods his head before helping her get in the car. He gets into the driver’s seat and turns the car on. His right hand is instantly taken by hers, she stares outside the window. He looks at her before looking away. He pulls out of the parking spot and heads straight towards her apartment. Ashton typically has been staying there for the past week to help her. Calum has come by to check up on her. (Y/N), of course, confessed what the situation was and apologized for seemingly ignoring him. Calum handled it well and told her it was perfectly fine, reminding her that he is always there for her.

Arriving at the apartment, he helps (Y/N) out of the car and into the home of her’s. She headed straight to the bedroom while he went to the guest bedroom he has been spending the night in. Kaykay would occasionally come by to check up on the two and mostly give love to (Y/N). Ashton starts to unloosen the tie, staring at himself in the full body mirror. He soon stops, looking at himself. The lyrics suddenly went through his mind. He has to do something about them. He rushes over to the notebook he kept nearby to scribble the lyrics down. The knock on the door pulls him away from his mind process, instantly closing the book when he looks up to see (Y/N) entering.

“I ordered Chinese if that’s fine.” Ashton nods his head, placing the book to the side. He sees she changed into sweats and one of Luke’s old hoodies. It warmed Ashton’s heart sometimes with how close the guys managed to get with (Y/N) but not as close as Ashton is with her. The moment she became his best friend, she became their close friend as well.

“Writing anything?” She asks as she sits down next to him. He looks at the notebook, a small smile appearing on his face. He nods his head towards her, knowing she will like the song.

Just drive, just drive, just drive tonight

Just drive, just drive, just drive tonight, tonight, tonight

Ashton paces the room, knowing she has to be the first one to hear the song he wrote just for her. He wouldn’t say it’s just for her since it could apply to KayKay as well but he got the idea while with (Y/N). Sitting on the couch at her apartment, he could remember the last time he wrote a song secretly about her. She doesn’t even know it’s about her yet. He has never been ready for that conversation just yet. His best friend doesn’t need to know his feelings he once had held for her.

“What was the surprise?” (Y/N) asks as she brings the drink of lemonade for Ashton. He looks up at her, seeing the small smile on her face. She looked so much better than what she would have been if he had made the song earlier. Of course, it took him awhile to write and produce the song but in the end he believes it’s worth it for her. He looks at his phone before looking back up at her to see her sitting down next to him.

“I want you to hear some of the music I’m working on.” (Y/N) smiles, nodding her head since she knew Ashton had been working recently on an album due to the pandemic that was happening. He looks down at his phone, hesitantly starting the song for her to listen to. He instantly pauses it after he starts it.

“I want to say before it starts, really that… I wrote this for you about your father.” (Y/N)’s smile disappears as she realizes what he is talking about. She looks away from him, nervousness growing through her as the song starts to play. She hears Ashton’s voice start to sing softly to her. She looks up from her hands, staring at the wall in front of her on the couch. Tears fill her eyes, a small memory of him taking care of her during her process of handling grief. He made sure she ate. He made sure she got her sleep. Whenever she would have a nightmare, he would cuddle her back to sleep. If she called him, he would answer. But most of all… he saved her that day she wanted to see her father again. Looking at Ashton, the song comes to an end. She instantly wrapped her arms around him, holding him close to her.

“You don’t understand how much this means to me,” she whispers to him. He couldn’t help but smiles as he held onto her in the hug. He nods his head, closing his eyes as he gets comfortable holding onto her. His chin rests on her shoulder, feeling her hair on his cheek. The two soon pull away. She wipes her tears away.

“Thank you so much, Ash.”

“Anything for my little bear.” She couldn’t help but smile more at the nickname. She nods her head before she looks away. Fiddling with her hand she looks back up at him.

“I’m really excited for your album.” Ashton soon goes on about how much he couldn’t wait for the fans to get the new content. He just felt bored during quarantine really to where he had to do it. Besides he grew lyrically and musically by doing this album. (Y/N) listened to all of his words. The conversation soon developed into different topics. (Y/N) mentions how she misses hanging out with the boys. Ashton agreed with her but he talks about the interviews over Zoom they still do together. She sighs before the excitement goes through her suddenly.

“Oh, Calum asked me out on a date whenever we can finally go somewhere!” Suddenly everything hit Ashton, hearing those words from his best friend’s lips. He could feel the color in his face leave and his heart seemed to have stopped. The world went frozen.

You and me

#ashton irwin x reader #5sos #ashton irwin #5sos x reader

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northlight14 · 3 years

Text

Breakup’s, birthdays and drag shows

Description: Roman and Janus broke up and now Roman can't celebrate his birthday with him. Now it's Virgil's job as his best friend to cheer him up.

TW: breakup mention, crying, cursing, Janus isn't intended to be unsympathetic but since Virgil doesn't like him it might come across that way, alcohol mention, brief violence mention, let me know if I need to add anything else

Ships: platonic prinxiety, past roceit

Genre: hurt/comfort

Prompt: alt prompt 4, drag (prompt by @pridewrite2021)

Virgil was browsing the card isle looking for a birthday card for Roman when his phone started to buzz. He pulled it out to see it was Remus calling him.

"Ugh, what is it Remus?" Virgil said, already not interested in whatever Remus had gotten himself into.

"Hey Virgin! Can you come over?" Remus chirped.

"I'll be coming over later to drop off Roman's card. Why, what's up?"

"Well, you know how Roman and Janus broke up last week?" How could Virgil forget? Roman had spent the entire week being an absolute wreck and Patton and Logan had to hold Virgil back in order to stop him beating Janus up.

"Yes." Virgil gritted out through his teeth.

"Well, Roman just realized that he isn't gonna be able to celebrate with him and that this is gonna be his first birthday without him in 3 years and what not. So now he's crying in his room, lookin' like a hot mess. And since he's your best friend and all I was wondering if you could come and cheer him up or whatever."

"What! How the hell am I supposed to do that?!" Virgil yelled, before realizing he's still standing in the middle of the card isle, hiding his face which was now scarlet.

"I don't know man but you'll come up with something! You're like a brother to him, Virgie!"

"You actually are his brother, Rem!"

"Come on Virgil, please!" Remus pleaded through the phone. "I just...I really don't know what to do, here." He said, voice suddenly going quiet.

Virgil sighed. "Ok, I'll be ten minutes."

———

Virgil always forgot how big Roman's house was. The drive way alone seemed to go on for ages, outlined by large trees and red rose bushes. The pathway to the door was a red brick and clearly well taken care of. The house itself was a faded red brick with large windows and balconies. The front door was too tall and painted black, standing in the middle of two white pillars.

Looking at where Roman lived, it was easy to see why Virgil had disliked him at first. When they'd first met, Roman had a much bigger problem with his bratty rich kid attitude and with his life seemingly perfect from an outsiders point of view it was easy to see why they clashed. after all, Virgil had absent parents and had to work several jobs to help pay bills. But as he got to know Remus better it made it much easier to see through Roman as well. Mr and Mrs Prince were nice enough but they had a bad habit of pitting Roman and Remus against each other, both with academics and creative pursuits. It turned out Roman's arrogant attitude was a coping mechanism for his surprisingly low self esteem. It also turned out that Roman wasn't just "lazy" when it came to school work like Virgil had first thought, but he was actually struggling with ADHD. The more Virgil learned about Roman and the more Roman learned about Virgil, the closer they became until they began to see each other as brothers. Brothers that would make fun of each other relentlessly but brothers non the less.

Virgil knocked on the large door and waited for a response. Not too long after, Mrs Prince answered. She was a tall and slender woman with tanned skin. Her dark hair was tied perfectly in a bun. She wore a black dress with a red shall, both of which looked as expensive as Virgil's car.

"Oh, hello Virgil. I assume you're here for Roman? Remus said you were coming." She said.

"Uh, yeah. Can I come in?"

"Of coarse, Roman should be in his room. He hasn't come out since this morning." She said, stepping aside to let Virgil in.

'Oh God.' Virgil thought to himself before heading upstairs and hoping he would finally be able to remember which room is Romans.

In the end Remus came out his room and pointed Virgil in the right direction but hey, no one else needed to know that.

Gently, Virgil knocked on Romans door and waited to be let in.

"Remus, I told you to go away!" Roman yelled from inside, his voice sounding muffled.

"Hey Roman, it's Virgil. Can I come in?"

There was a brief moments pause before Virgil heard a quiet voice he decided to interoperate as Roman inviting him in.

Virgil was very taken aback by the sight before him. The room, which was usually kept as neat as possible, was covered in tissues, chocolate wrappers and a mix of opened and unopened presents. Roman was sat on his bed, eyes puffy and hair messy.

"Um, hey, are you alright?" 'Fuck sake Virgil, obviously he isn't.' Roman sniffled, smiling despite himself. "Yeah, I just...I miss him, ya know?"

"Yeah." Virgil said, sitting beside him. "Oh, um, I got you this..." Virgil awkwardly passed him the card.

Roman smiled, accepting it. "Thanks."

"So...what do you want to do? For your birthday, I mean." Virgil said, trying and failing to hide his discomfort.

"I don't know..." Roman sighed, looking down at his hands. "I was just going to continue to watch Carmen Santiago. But I always watched that with Janus. It was our show, ya know? He'd always make a comment about how she's still stealing and I'd counter it with how she's stealing from thieves so surely that makes it ok! I don't know, it just...it feels wrong to watch it without him..." Roman laughed sadly. "Which sucks because the last episode left on a cliff hanger and I really wanna know what happens next." He laughed a little at his own expense.

Virgil couldn't help but smirk. "Well, why don't we go out somewhere?"

Roman looked down again. "I don't know..."

'Crap. What the heck am I supposed to do here?!'

Virgil looked around awkwardly. He then spied in the corner what looked like a new makeup pallet. Roman must have gotten it for his birthday. 'Bingo.'

"Hey, why don't we do each other's makeup?" Virgil offered.

Romans face immediately lit up. "Really?!" He said, excitedly.

"Yeah, why not?" Virgil said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Well last time I asked to do your makeup, you said you'd rather stab yourself in the eye with your eye liner."

"Yeah, well..." Virgil coughed. "Consider it my birthday present to you."

Roman immediately shot up and grabbed the eyeshadow pallet and several brushes. "I promise you won't regret this!" Yeah, Virgil was already regretting this but Roman seemed happy and that's all that mattered.

———

The brushes tickled Virgil's face as Roman layered the purple eye shadow. Virgil almost started to object as Roman began to apply silver jewels at the edges of the eye shadow, before stopping himself. Roman then finished the look by applying a purplish pink lipstick and brushing Virgil's bangs out of his face. He then handed Virgil a mirror. The look was very 80's glam, far from Virgil's usual style but he had to admit, it looked really good. The eyeshadow looked sharp, the upper lid being a lighter shade than the under eye and corners of the eyes.

"It looks great!" Virgil said, admiring it. Roman smiled proudly from the compliment. "Alright." Virgil said, taking the eye shadow pallet. "Your turn."

Roman laughed. "I appreciate the offer, rainy day real estate, but I don't really wanna look like I haven't slept in a hundred years." Roman teased.

"Says the guy who's went entire weeks not sleeping because he was binge watching a new show!" Virgil teased back.

"And I'll have you know I wear that like a badge of honor!"

"Besides," Virgil continued to laugh. "I know how to do other makeup looks."

"Ok..." Roman said. "But if I end up looking like a Tim Burton character, I will kill you with my bare hands." They both couldn't help but laugh.

Virgil decided to go for a similar style that Roman went for, layering different shades of red and mixing in some gold glitter. He also decided to draw a small crown on his right cheek, just below the eye. The look was then finished off with red lipstick to match.

He passed the mirror over to Roman who gasped in delight at his reflection. "It looks so good!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah? I'm glad you like it." Virgil smiled, pulling back on his purple patch hoodie after taking it off to give himself more mobility when applying the makeup.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Roman said, waving his arms in front of his face before jumping up and handing Virgil a black leather jacket that was hung on his chair as well as a pair of purple tinted heart glasses. "Put these on!" He exclaimed.

Virgil once again pulled off his hoodie, replacing it with the leather jacket. It fit him surprisingly well considering Roman was a fair bit taller and more muscular than him. He then put on the glasses and Roman eagerly pulled him off his bed and guided him to his full length mirror.

"Wow...I actually look really good." Virgil said.

"See! I told you!" Roman laughed.

Virgil examined the jacket. "I didn't think you'd own a jacket like this. Did you steal it from Remus or something?" Virgil asked.

Romans smile suddenly dropped. "It, uh, it was Janus'..."

Shit.

"Oh, um, sorry." Virgil said, honestly.

"It's ok." Roman sighed, sitting back on his bed. "I've been meaning to give it back. Especially since it still has his wallet in it. But that means I'll have to see him and I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

'He left his wallet in here?' Virgil put his hands in the pockets and sure enough, Roman was right. Virgil quickly started to feel all too powerful now knowing this.

"Hey, come on, let's go out somewhere. Show off your makeup." Virgil tried again.

"For someone who looks like they belong in a vampire novel, you're awfully eager to go outside." Roman laughed.

"Come on, I just think it'll do you some good to get out for a bit."

Roman averted Virgil's gaze. "I don't know..."

"Come on, man. Do you really want to let that jackass ruin your birthday?"

Roman sighed. "Ok, fine."

Virgil waited outside Romans room as he changed out his pajamas. When he came out, he was sporting a white shirt paired with a black jacket that had a red floral pattern. He was also wearing a pair of glasses, his in the shape of two fairy wings that matched the gold in his eye shadow perfectly.

As the two walked out the house, Roman called "Mom, weren't going out! I should be home soon!"

His mom sounded surprised by this but happy non the less. "Ok sweetie, be back soon!"

"So where are we going?" Roman asked as they walked out the house.

"How the hell should I know? I'm just winging it." Virgil laughed.

———

The two wandered through the town as the sun began to set, the reds and oranges bouncing off Romans glasses and the glitter perfectly. Virgil was all too aware of the judging looks they were being given but when he looked at Roman, he seemed happy. And right now that's all that mattered. Just keeping Romans mind off Janus.

Eventually, Virgil began to hear the sound of music and he subconsciously started to follow it, Roman tailing behind. As he wandered through the town he eventually found the source.

A bar putting on a drag show.

Roman was staring off into space, standing next to him. Virgil tapped his shoulder, pulling him back to reality. "Hey, I know what we're doing."

———

Romans face lit up once more when he saw the stage. It didn't seem like they missed too much, which was good. The drag queen that was stood on the stage currently was singing, her hair done big with makeup that shone and reflected the lights perfectly. Her dress black and covered in sequins and frills. The heels she wore didn't look comfortable in the slightest but she walked in them with ease.

The two sat at the bar. They were each 18 and 19, meaning they wouldn't be able to drink but given the circumstances, it was probably best if Roman didn't get drunk right now.

Instead, Virgil just ordered them some non alcoholic drinks and fries. Roman was about to hand him the money to pay but Virgil immediately declined. "My treat. It's your birthday after all." Virgil then remembered Janus' wallet still in his jacket pocket. 'I mean, if Janus is the reason we're here, it's only right he should be the one to pay for us, right?' Virgil couldn't help his smirk as he handed the money over.

The night continued and Roman and Virgil cheered loudly for each queen on stage, each one quite different from the last. Virgil watched as any sign of grief seemingly dissolved from Romans face.

The final queen for the night came on the stage and they both watched with joy as she performed.

"I know what you're doing, you know." Roman said, not taking his eyes off the stage. Virgil froze instantly, slowly daring to look at his friend. Roman once again had small tears in his eyes but he wore the most genuine smile Virgil hadn't seen on him in ages. "Thank you."

Virgil smiled at his friend. At his brother. "Of coarse."

-------

Authors note: I’ve been wanting to write something based on the glam looks Thomas posted for Roman and Virgil for a while now and I obviously wanted to write something for Romans birthday. So when I saw the prompt for today was ‘drag’ I immediately thought “well that’s convenient”. So happy birthday Roman! Anyway, hope y’all enjoyed. I’m still practicing my writing and hopefully I’m improving.

Reblogs >>> likes

#sander sides #pridewrite2021 #fanfic #pw alt 4 #tw cursing #tw breakup mention #tw crying #tw alchol mention #tw violence mention #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #platonic prinxiety #creativity twins #creativitytwins #roceit #roceit angst #past roceit

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saphirered · 3 years

Note

OK! I promise (kinda) that this is the last one (maybe). Eldritch Knight nearly dies protecting essek form something (assassin, Rouge kryn soldier, etc) and essek's mom kinda pick up that like s/o has saved her son so much that she invites them over for dinner as a thank you, they accept the invite -cause why not- and chaos ensues, Verin is there and teasing his older brother/jokingly challenging s/o to a battle. Thank for everything you are by at my favorite writer on here, have a beautiful day!

Booooooy this is turning into a long one so I'll have to split it up in two parts for the sake of readability 😅. Here comes the first part. Enjoy 😘.

It’s a lovely day out. The moon’s shining bright, the stars sparkle like millions of crystals in the night sky and you and your favourite drow wizard had the opportunity to get away from your busy lives and spend some time together not on official business; an opportunity not often found in these days. You were grateful to spend your time on a walk outside in one of gardens reserved only for the higher classes of Rosohna and their guests. A nice day indeed.

Well, it would have been a nice day if it hadn’t been ruined by a rather rude interruption. Was it truly too much to ask for some peace and quiet and alone time to just relax? Apparently so. Neither of you seem to be able to get a break from the chaos.

You’re flung into the pillar of the gazebo-like structure at the centre of the gardens, feeling the cracking of your ribs as you hit it and drop to the ground with a loud thud. Hitting the stone with your fist you get up with a growl. That hurt. A lot. You hook your foot kicking up your sword catching it in your hand.

“I’ve had it up to here with these mages!” You duck behind the pillar to avoid a firebolt being thrown at your face. You see Essek struggling with the other Volstrucker. If you keep this battlefield divided much longer both of you might not make it out and since these gardens aren’t as public a space, guards don’t regularly patrol. You can only hope someone has noticed something because this is not liking good. At this rate you might need an accomplished cleric and a pretty good amount of diamonds on site sooner rather than later.

You look around the corner and send a bolt of blue crackling energy to your Volstrucker hitting them square in the chest. A firebolt is returned and strikes you in the shoulder singeing at the fabric of your clothes and your now exposed skin. You shrug off the pain in your chest, shoulder and the struggle breathing and release another witch bolt drawing closer to your opponent.

Taking some good hits and as difficult as it may be you’re close enough to the Volstrucker to strike. So is the Volstrucker. This was never going to be an easy fight and no matter how clever you are, so are they and one mistake is deadly. Keeping your injured arm close to you you move around quickly trying to exhaust their reserves enough to get a proper hit.

Your plan works. The movements get sloppier ever so slightly and just barely enough to get through the Volstrucker’s defences. A slash sends them stumbling holding the new wound and a hit with the pommel to the face takes the Volstrucker down bleeding. You turn your attention back to Essek and his attacker to see him cornered and on his last leg, a blow breaking through the shatters of a shield spell.

Kicking off and rushing over you use the momentum kicking off a stone bench to grab onto the neck of Essek’s opponent, wrapping your arms around and elbow down until they throw you off into the bench you jumped off. Feeling your already burning chest you’re forced to cough leaving an iron-like taste in your mouth. Not good. But this is life or death. You choose life.

Getting between Essek and the Volstrucker you cast a lightning bolt using your current space to your advantage. Not much places to dodge to from this side. The Volstrucker lands within a bed of flowers unmoving. A wave of relief comes over your as you see Essek back on his feet. While a little worse for wear, he’s alive.

“Next time you ask me to go out with you can we please go somewhere without your admirers trying to horribly murder you?” You joke between coughs, the taste of iron growing stronger.

“Perhaps it’s just the Luxon trying to intertwine our fates through making me admire you even more?” Essek places a hand on your back but quickly regrets it when you wince in pain.

“Perhaps we should find you a healer.” Essek suggests and you couldn’t agree more.

“Looks like we both can use a healer, or several.” You refer to the injuries the both of you sustained biting back the pain coming through the adrenaline from the fight.

Then it happened. You heard before you saw. Movement. Turning to see what it was you see the Volstrucker you knocked down first standing with a bow, string just released arrow flying, second one following in you and Essek’s direction. You quickly try to cast warding wind but you’re not quick enough. The first arrow strikes you in the gut. The second one is stopped, trajectory changed and sent into the bushes.

White hot searing pain. You’ve been shot before but never have been so rough already. The sensation is a new one entirely making you hyperaware of your body, your surroundings to the point you can hear every breath you take and the beat of your heart as you fall back from the impact. The warding wind drops as you do and you’re fighting to stay awake, a sudden fatigue and fog enters your brain.

Essek sees you fall, you can barely make out his expression; changing from worry to anger when focused on the Volstrucker. The next thing you see is darkness and for a brief second you think you’ve passed out and this is the Raven Queen beckoning you. Instead it’s a darkness summoned surrounding the Volstrucker until it disappears leaving nothing but a pile of dust.

There’s a constant ringing in your head but you’re still awake. Awake, bleeding and in pain. Essek, now the Volstrucker is dead and dealt with kneels down next to you, worry returning to his face as he’s unsure what to do. He reaches for the arrow shaft sticking out of your stomach but you stop him with what little force is left in your body.

“Don’t! Not unless you want me to bleed out. Just go get help. I’ll be fine.” You try to stabilise your breath as much as you can. To be honest, you don’t know for sure if you’ll be fine but that won’t change anything. You don’t hear his reply over the ringing in your ears but Essek strokes your cheek before he rushes off gods know where.

Next thing you know the face of a blue tiefling appears in your vision, behind her a green cloak. The arrow is pulled out and the burning pain is quickly replaced by a cool pressure until it disappears along with the majority of the pain in your chest. The sense of tunnel vision disappears and you see Essek looking worried waiting for anyone to say anything. You give him a weak smile.

“You owe me big time, dear.” You cough as Jester helps you sit up. Still a bit lightheaded you manage. Essek returns your smile but you can see the guilt in his eyes.

“And I’ll do everything in my power to make it up to you.”

“Yeah, yeah that’s nice and all. Can you guys please stop flirting?” Oh, Beauregard. Way to interrupt the moment. Doesn’t she know you could have gotten all the Mighty Nein’s favours owed to Essek erased in a snap of the fingers now? Jester and Beau help you to your feet and begin to support carry you back to the Xhorhaus.

The next few days you’re on bedrest as demanded by well, everyone around you, until you’re fully recovered and no longer feel like you dived off a cliff missing the water. Essek’s been a frequent visitor to the extend where he must be neglecting his responsibilities by how much time he’s spending with you.

Essek makes a surprisingly good nurse, making sure you’re always comfortable, getting you whatever you need or ask for and of course good company to fight the boredom from being confined to one space for days where night and day do not differ.

Then finally the day came along where your clerics had declared you fit enough to leave the confines of your room. Another few days and you were good to go back to your usual routines. While Essek was forced to return to his duties sooner rather than later he still tried to spend as much time with you as he could, sticking to your side like glue.

You had to reassure him many times but finally did get it through his thick skull this wasn’t his fault and he couldn’t have done anything about it. He may still blame himself partially but he’s not beating himself over it which is all you could ask for. Besides, you’re very persuasive when it comes to Essek so perhaps in time you could get him to see it the way you do.

#essek x reader #essek thelyss x reader #critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader

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skymaiden32 · 3 years

Text

Fraternal Rhapsody

Based on this post by the amazing @dragonoffantasyandreality

TOS-verse. Takes place during the episode 'End of the Road'.

Enjoy!

———

Alan fumed as he pawed at his artistic brother’s most prized possession, harshly tapping the ivory and jet black keys every now and then. He had sat there for a good hour now, questioning what she could possibly see in that guy.

Stealing a glance at the clock that rested next to his father’s desk, he ran a hand over his worn face. Now was hardly the time to remain angry; he was far too tired for that. Instead, he stood from the stool, hot burning anger and jealousy slowly cooling off. He sent a silent apology in the direction of Virgil’s room, hoping he hadn’t damaged the piano. The last thing he needed was to stoke the second eldest’s fury.

Not a lot of things touched Virgil, but when they did, the whole villa, from the lab all the way to the bedrooms, felt it. And one of those things was breaking the piano. Well, that and waking up before noon.

Sighing, he headed for his room, careful not to wake anyone. He went about his usual bedtime routine, pretending everything was normal. But it wasn’t. Not in his mind, where the anger threatened to burn anew. Sleep wouldn’t come to him like this.

Pulling on slippers and a robe, he crossed the hall to perhaps the only person who could help calm the fire. Just as he was about to knock, he hesitated, then shook himself. Scott wouldn’t mind. He rapped the wood.

A grunt answered him, and the movement coming from inside the room told him his eldest brother was answering his SOS. Alan waited as the door opened, a slight look of guilt on his face as Scott’s tired face peered round the door. The youngest rubbed his arm. Why was he feeling so nervous? His train of thought that was heading for a steep cliff was interrupted when Scott spoke gently.

“Alan? What’s wrong?” Scott looked expectantly at the blond, wondering what was going on. The nervous man in front of him was a far cry from his courageous little brother who could shoot an alligator at close range or fly straight toward the sun to save someone he didn’t know.

“I-I can’t sleep.” Alan paused before continuing. Scott made a mental note of the emotion behind his eyes. “Can I talk to you about something? I need to get it off my chest.”

If it were at all possible, Scott’s gaze softened even more, now fully in big brother mode. “Sure thing, Allie.” He affirmed, grabbing his robe. “Do you wanna go somewhere else to talk about it?”

Alan, thinking about how long this might take and realising that it may attract attention from a very grumpy Virgil, Gordon or even Jeff, nodded. “How about the pool?”

“Okay. Let’s go.” Leading the way, Scott made his way down to the still water, Alan right behind him.

The waves that lapped against the sand down by the beach had a calming effect, and both brothers sat on a nearby deckchair, looking out towards the ocean. They suddenly had a whole new appreciation for the favoured world of their aquanaut brother.

They sat there in silence for a good few minutes before the elder turned to the younger. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Alan struggled to find the words, but he managed it. “I-it’s about… well, Eddie Houseman.”

“Oh?”

“And Tin-Tin.”

“Oh.”

The blond looked at his big brother, anger burning anew. “I don’t understand what she sees in that guy, Scott!” The fury slowly turned into tears, and he closed his eyes to hide it. But Scott did notice. He always did. And just like he also always did, Alan felt a strong but comforting arm around his shoulder, gently massaging all the hurt away. Alan leaned into the contact, tears now tenfold. “And now I’m going to lose her to him! It’s clear who she wants, and it’s not me…” That last part came out just a bit quieter.

The one-sided hug tightened, both arms now enfolding him as he let it all out. “Oh, Allie. You’re not going to lose her, baby brother.”

A sniffle could be heard under the mess of blond hair against his chest. “R-really? Are you sure, Scotty?”

Alan felt fingers run through his sun-kissed locks. “Of course I’m sure, Al. Tin-Tin adores you. She loves you and only you.” Scott chuckled. “Eddie did try to weasel his way into her heart, but she kicked him to the curb pretty quickly. I saw it happen. It was pretty funny, she is not someone you want to mess with, but I digress. Her heart is with you kiddo, and I have a feeling it will stay there for as long as you both live.”

Scott felt the hug being returned, and he squeezed even tighter. “Thanks Scotty.” Alan’s smile was back, and Scott inwardly cheered. “Can you do one more thing, for me, please?”

“Sure thing, kiddo.”

“Could you sing me a lullaby, please? The one from when we were kids?”

It was only a few years ago, but it still felt like an eternity had taken place since the last time the eldest had sang to any of the others. It had started after their mother’s unfortunate passing, when their father was too far stuck in his own grief to give them the attention they needed and they fended mostly for themselves. The five brothers would huddle together on Scott’s bed, and he would sing the same lullaby their mother had always used to frighten the terrors of the night.

Those moments were rare now they were grown, but they still happened every now and then. Now appeared to be one such time.

Scott seemed taken aback at the request, but smiled at his brother. “Sure thing.” Alan looked out to the sea as his brother sang, the waves adding so much to the melody.

A gentle breeze on Hush-a-bye Mountain,

Slowly blows over Lullaby Bay.

It fills the sails of boats that are waiting.

Waiting to sail your worries away.

It isn’t far to Hush-a-bye Mountain,

And your boat waits down by the key.

The winds of night so softly are sighing.

Soon they will blow your troubles to sea.

So close your eyes on Hush-a-bye Mountain.

Wave goodbye to cares of the day.

And watch your boat from Hush-a-bye Mountain,

Sail far away,

To Lullaby Bay.

Alan had dropped off to sleep around the second verse, prompting a gentle chuckle from Scott as he gently picked his brother up, intending on bringing him back to the villa, hopefully without waking him or anyone else up.

He spun slowly back towards the path, Alan still clinging to him in his sleep. The eldest Tracy brother was stopped in his tracks when he saw the entire family blocking the steps to the lounge. Even John’s face was visible on his father’s wrist communicator. All of them had very soppy looks on their faces, and Scott flushed in embarrassment. He would have buried his face in his hands if he wasn’t carrying Alan.

“How much did you hear?” He kept his voice low and was grateful the others were willing to do the same.

John’s grin widened. “The whole thing.”

Gordon ran a hand through ginger hair. “Our doors aren’t soundproofed.”

He heard Virgil’s barely concealed mutter of, “They should be.”

Another thought crossed his mind. “Eddie and Tin-Tin didn’t hear, did they?”

Jeff shook his head. “No. Both fast asleep.” The father of five had a smile that mirrored his space-bound son’s. “Haven’t heard you sing for a while.”

“You’ve heard me sing to comfort rescue victims before, Dad.”

The older man nodded. “To comfort victims, yes. But to comfort family, no.” He thought of something else. “And Christmas Carolling or your mini-concerts with Virgil don’t count…”

Scott chuckled as he made for the steps, his brothers and father turning with him.

“All you guys have to do is ask, you know…”

———

Hope you enjoyed! Fun lil fact, that’s the lullaby that my mum always used to sing to me when I went to bed. It’s from the movie adaptation of the book ‘Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang’, if you want to give it a look.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds 1965 #thunderbirds tos #thunderfam #alan tracy #scott tracy #virgil tracy #john tracy #gordon tracy #jeff tracy #episode: end of the road #brotherly fluff #all the fluff

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kumeko · 4 years

Photo

A/N: For the @lifeistrangezine Chaos Theory zine! I wanted to explore some of the branches Max went through.

…

“The trolley problem.” Ms. Hoida stood at the front of the classroom, writing out the words on the blackboard. Her chalk hit the board in hard taps, confident strokes that did not match her quiet demeanor. “It’s a common philosophical question, one that will be explored in the book you will read this semester.”

She turned around, smiling brightly at the class. “The question is this: a trolley is barrelling down the tracks. In the distance, you see five people standing in your path. There’s a fork in the road and you can save them by changing tracks. But in doing so, you’ll kill a lone worker who’s on this second track. You can’t warn them nor can you stop the trolley in time. What do you do?”

There was a long silence as no one answered. Ms. Hoida raised a brow, looking at them curiously. “Who lives and who dies?”

Max tried not to snort. What an easy question—the answer was obvious.

You’d pick the path with one person every single time.

-x-

Case Chloe:

Max crouched in the darkness, the jackhammer beating of her heart so loud she didn’t know how it didn’t give her away. The girls’ change room wasn’t that big, the white tiles echoing every sound. It was a miracle that Mr. Madsen hadn’t heard her yet.

Pressed against the cool metal lockers, she peered around the corner. Max could barely make out his back, the light of his flashlight swinging away as he inspected every nook and cranny for an intruder. This was exactly what she expected to happen when she joined Chloe for a midnight swim: trouble. Trouble that would mar her school record forever.

Something cold and soft touched her arm and Max covered her mouth to muffle her scream. It was just Chloe, it was only Chloe. She could still smell the chlorine from the pool as water dripped down her spiky blue hair. Max turned to look at her, her outline barely visible in the almost non-existent light. Mr. Madsen stepped forward, his footstep echoing on the tiles, and Max pulled Chloe along as she quietly tiptoed toward the exit.

If they could just sneak out—

“Who’s there?” Mr. Madsen growled, swinging around. His flashlight landed on them and Max felt like a deer in the headlights, waiting for the car to crash. “Chloe. Why am I not surprised?”

“Fuck,” Chloe muttered before snarling back, “Not like you know how to have any fun!”

Max swallowed, watching the two argue, their words growing more heated by the second. She could fix this. All she needed to do was concentrate and she could fix this. Closing her eyes, she focused on time, on the photo negatives of her past, going through them until she found one just before they chose the girls’ change room to hide in.

“Anyone there?” Mr. Madsen called out, his flashlight shining into the girls’ change room.

Max quietly made her way back to the pool, intercepting Chloe before she could hide. “Boys’ change room.”

“What?” Chloe stared at her, confused, before realization dawned. “Super Max to the rescue, huh?”

Super Max. It didn’t feel particularly heroic to use her powers like this, but she’d take what she could get.

-x-

Case Warren:

“How does it look?” Sitting on the desk, Warren tilted his head back, angling his face toward the light. His hands rested between his legs, keeping him balanced as he patiently waited for her inspection.

Max set down the first aid kit on a free desk. Luckily, the science room was empty for once, free of Brook or her teachers. Leaning forward, she tucked a lock behind her ear as she studied Warren’s face. Under the light, his skin looked paler than usual, the dark circle around his eye blacker. There was a cut on his bottom lip, dried blood crusted at the edges. “You look…” she paused, not sure what to say.

“Beat up?” Warren suggested playfully, grinning.

“Beat up,” she agreed, pulling back to open the first aid kit. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Me neither.” He chuckled before wincing. Gingerly, he touched his lip and groaned. “Man, Nathan packs a punch for a rich guy.”

“He really hurt you,” Max warned, her eyes flickering to his black eye. She couldn’t stop staring at it.

“I just wasn’t ready.” Raising his fists, he punched the air in front of him. “Next time, I’ll be the one punching him.”

“Or you’ll be the one—” Getting beat. Getting shot. She’d almost forgotten about it, the bathroom shooting that chain-started her powers. Nathan was dangerous, far more dangerous than anyone realized.

“Or what?” Warren raised a brow, staring at her.

Max faltered, not sure what to say. “He’s just…dangerous.” Her fingers rifled through the band-aids idly. “Just…be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, you don’t have to worry about me.” Chest puffed out, Warren winked at her dorkily. “I’m kinda like a hero, you know?”

“Heroes don’t usually get beat up,” she pointed out. If she went back to the parking lot, if she and Chloe got there quicker or warned Warren, would he be okay? Sure, he was smiling now, but he was also in Nathan’s bad books.

And Nathan wasn’t the kind of person who settled for getting even.

“I’m sorry,” Max apologized. Before he could ask why, time was rewinding itself.

-x-

Case Kate:

This is wrong. The single thought replayed over and over in Max’s head as she stood in front of the dormitory, staring down at the steps. A single, framed picture of Kate sat on the middle rung, surrounded by rings of candles and bouquets of white lilies. In the dark, the lights flickered, casting multiple shadows over her picture. A white bear sat at the bottom of the staircase.

Kate likes rabbits. Max stared at the stuffed bear, fighting the urge to pick it up and chuck it over the field. But that wasn’t what was wrong, was it? Bear, rabbit, it didn’t change the fact that this was a memorial for Kate.

That Kate was dead.

As the thought struck her, she hunched over and covered her mouth. The acidic taste of bile lingered on her tongue, even though it had been hours since she’d last vomited. If Max turned to her left, if she tilted her head a centimeter, she could see the spot where Kate fell, hear the sickening crunch as she landed. Yellow caution tape still surrounded the spot, the cops not finished with their investigation.

This is wrong, she thought again, trying to force her legs to move. If she went up a floor, she’d find Kate’s room. Maybe she was playing with her rabbit or reading a book. A light would spill through the cracks of her closed door, her soft humming barely audible as Max walked past. On her whiteboard would be some stupid insult and Max would erase it and doodle something cheerful.

Somewhere, someone was crying, and Max wasn’t sure if it was her. It was automatic this time, her grip on her powers, the world slipping around her as she fought the flow of time.

This was one fate she couldn’t allow to pass.

-x-

Case Frank:

A gunshot echoed in Max’s ears as she stared at the ground, at the blood pooling around Frank’s body. It spread slowly, unevenly on the concrete. Red spots dotted her shoes.

Next to her, Chloe dropped her gun with a clatter, her hand covering her mouth. “He…he attacked. It was the only way to protect us.” Desperate, she turned to Max, tears in her eyes. “Right? That’s…there’s nothing we could have done.”

Max studied her. Behind them, the ocean waves calmly lapped on the beach and seagulls cried overhead. It was strange, she felt oddly peaceful as she nodded and looked back down at Frank. He stared blankly at the sky, his beloved dog next to him. “It’s okay, Chloe.” She had lived through this scene five times already and there were other, better outcomes. “It’ll be okay.”

Her ears were the only ones that would remember Frank’s death gurgle. Her eyes were the only ones that would remember this sight.

Next time, next time she’d say the right thing.

-x-

Case Max:

Max shivered, tightening her grip on Chloe’s wet, clammy hands. In the middle of the storm, in the midst of all this destruction, her warmth was grounding. Rain plastered Max’s hair to her face uncomfortably, but she didn’t push them away, too afraid to let go.

The wind howled around them as they stood at the top of the hill, at the edge of the cliff. The lighthouse lit the sea up every few seconds, but there was no safety in its beam. The storm was upon them and it would take more than a ray of light to rescue them.

“Max.” Chloe’s voice was soft for once. “You know what you have to do.”

She shook her head, keeping her eyes glued to their interlaced hands. “I can’t do anything about this. I’m not that super.”

“Max,” Chloe repeated, tugging her hands up and forcing her to look up. “Look at the town.”

She didn’t want to. Even after running through it, saving her classmates and friends, seeing the fire and damage, it was easy to pretend out here. It was quieter at the lighthouse, the storm drowning out every other sound, and maybe the town was fine. Maybe everything was fine and they just had to wait it out.

“Look, Max.” Impatience leaked into her voice, and Chloe tugged Max’s hands again urgently. “Look.”

Despite herself, she did. She turned her head, followed Chloe’s gaze to the ruins of their town. To the hurricane landing on the shoreline, ripping buildings off the earth. From here, she couldn’t hear the screams, but she could imagine them.

Oh, she could imagine them.

“They’re all going to die, aren’t they?” Max muttered, watching at the storm move closer and closer to the diner. To Joyce. To Frank. To Warren and Kate and—

“Yeah, but they don’t have to.” Chloe clutched her hands tightly, forcing her attention back to her.

Immediately, Max knew what she meant. “No.”

She tried to pull away but Chloe didn’t let her. Despite how slick her hands were from the rain, her grip remained tight. “Max!”

“I can’t, Chloe! That’d mean…” Her eyes welled, her sight growing even more blurry. “That…that day, in the bathroom…Nathan, he-he—” killed you, but Max couldn’t utter the last words, couldn’t make them real.

“I know! And I��I don’t want to die, Max!” Chloe shook her head, her voice cracking. “But I don’t want them to die too. I’m just me, you know? One person, against a whole town—it’s an easy choice, isn’t it?”

One person versus many.

The Trolley problem, Ms. Hoida had said, her chalk hitting the board confidently. Who would you save?

Chloe or the town.

Chloe or Kate, Warren, Joyce, her classmates, her neighbours, perfect strangers.

Max could hear wheels rolling down a track, feel the cool metal of a track shaft between her hands. Left or right, the many vs the one.

It was an easy choice.

It was supposed to be an easy choice.

“I…I…” Max stared up at Chloe helplessly.

Whatever path she took, only heartbreak lay at the end.

#life is strange #max caulfield #chloe price #warren graham #kate marsh #frank bowers #fanfic

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joyhigh · 3 years

Text

Had ideas floating around involving delving more into his backstory with the uncles as well as past interactions with Dusty, but then I ended up having this more Lisa-related concept pop up that emotionally hit me over the head, stomped me into the curb and took my wallet, so...this is the result.

A few notes, as Buddy obvs isn’t raised by Brad in this AU I decided she would go by a different name here(Sunny). Apologies if it’s as weird to read as it was to write, haha. She’s about 7 here, this is some time before the events of Painful.

Content warnings(getting dark here so please do take care): Descriptions of abuse, suicide, addiction and relapse

“You know the drill, right?”

“Wait and be quiet until you wave.” Sunny’s small hand pokes out from underneath her ill-fitting poncho to demonstrate, her motions quick and jittery. The pale mask obscuring her face does nothing to hide the way her shoulders bounce in excitement as the two sit against the wall of the hut, the way her feet drum against the rust-colored earth below.

“Mhm.” Bernard grunts in affirmation. “And until then stay out of sight while I’m out there, if I can see you—“

“The bad guys can too, I know.” There’s a bite of impatience to Sunny’s voice followed by a dramatic huff, the girl crossing her arms decisively. Nearly a mirror image of Jaxon, much to Bernard’s irritation. Out of all the ‘uncles’ for her to take after...

In response Bernard merely settles on a sigh and a warning look before finally standing. Today wasn’t a day for trying to play the parent and lecture on respect—his already protesting muscles and the persistent pulse of pain beneath his skull saw to that. Damn Joy. Or lack of it, for that matter.

Stepping over threadbare blankets and supply bags strewn about the meager space, Bernard feels Sunny’s eyes on him all the while as he exits the makeshift hut. What greets him outside is nothing new—the same drab hills and looming cliffs from yesterday. He can’t understand what makes the child so excited to go out and see it all again, especially since there’s been a few other times he’s relented to her pleas. Surely she has to see eventually that there’s nothing out there of any worth.

Bernard’s gaze drags across the horizon, searching and scanning and then double checking for any signs of movement as he treads further from the hut. They live a ways away from the closest settlement but he can never rest easy knowing of all the freaks and scavengers about. At the moment however, there is nothing but rocks and trees in deathlike stillness. The dawn is only beginning to break yet the heavy weight of humid air is already present, accompanied by a grey cover of clouds likely to be later burned away by the sun. The uncomfortable stickiness makes Bernard’s expression sour further as he turns to check back.

Immediately a small spot of white catches his eye—Sunny’s mask, peeking out of a large hole in the clay walls of the hut that can be only charitably called a window. Bernard stares a moment, does one more double take around him, then lifts his hand in a small wave. In a flash she’s already left the hut, dashing forward with faded pink poncho billowing behind her.

“Hey. Hey,” He barely manages to catch the girl’s wrist, stopping her from speeding right past him. Antonio once joked that Sunny knew how to run before she could walk and honestly, Bernard could believe it. “Stay close, remember?”

Sunny stares at the point of contact for a moment as if contemplating resistance, but seems to decide against it as her small hand slides into his. She’s quiet for a while but her gaze is constantly moving—to the sky, the ground, the hills, until finally it locks onto something and Sunny jolts.

“What’s that?” She gasps, already starting to tug Bernard forward as she tries to move closer. At first he’s puzzled, seeing the object of her interest is nothing more than a dead tree, but then a spot of darkness perched on the gnarled branches catches his eye.

“A crow. Type of bird.” Bernard allows her to lead him forward until they arrive at the base of the tree. The crow just watches, a slight sheen of blue glimmering over its feathers in the faint morning light.

“Like an owl?”

“Yep. Like an owl, but more annoying-“ The sentence is soon followed by a harsh cry on part of the bird, making Sunny jump. Bernard just snickers. “Like so.”

“No he isn’t!!” Sunny sounds personally offended by this, as if she wasn’t just startled by it a moment ago. “He’s just saying good morning.”

“Sure…so what else does he have to say? Since you’re such an expert.” As if on cue the crow caws again.

“Hm.” She hums contemplatively, crossing her arms. “He says you’re stinky. And dumb.”

Bernard sharply glances sideways at her, lifting a brow. “Is that so? Well that’s rude.” Sunny just shrugs, failing miserably at stifling a giggle. “I could throw a rock at him for that, you know.” He adds, and immediately the child’s mirth disintegrates.

“No! You can’t!” She gasps, looking anxiously between him and the bird. Bernard’s smirk widens slightly as he decides to keep this going. Maybe it’s because kids are always easy to mess with. Maybe the withdrawal’s put him in a bit of a nasty mood.

“I dunno...there’s a lot of ‘em around, you know.” Bernard saunters about scanning the ground intently, kneeling to pick up a random piece of stone and inspecting it to fully sell the charade.

He expects another protest on part of Sunny but all that follows is silence. Bernard’s smile fades as he looks up, presented with the sight of the girl pulling herself up onto one of the tree branches.

“Sunshine, no-“ He quickly discards the stone and returns to the base of the tree, unsure if he should prepare to catch her if she falls or just try and pull her back down. “Get back here, now.”

“If you’re gonna be mean to him, I won’t let you.” She calls back, casting only a brief glance in his direction before continuing to climb up towards the crow. The branches seem to be able to hold her small body just fine but Bernard’s form is strung with tension as he watches Sunny move further out of reach.

“Kid, I was joking.” Whether it was from the abrupt motion or the overall noise, it feels like someone’s taking a jackhammer to his skull.

“Wasn't funny,” She huffs, pausing for a moment in her ascent as she and the bird regard each other. “Hi…” Bernard can hear her whisper, and Sunny slowly reaches forward. “Hi birdie. C‘ mere, it’s okay. It’s okay,” It’s a similar tone to one he and the others would use whenever Sunny got a scrape or bruise, however this time it doesn’t have any calming effect. As she gets closer the bird caws and with a rustle of feathers, it leaps off the branch and takes to the air. “Aw…”

“There,” Bernard winces, rubbing his temple with one hand as he watches the dark shape quickly become a small splotch in the sky. “See? There wasn’t any point to that, they don’t like people.” If Sunny’s paying attention to him he can’t tell with the mask, but even so it seems her focus is on the horizon as she surveys her surroundings.

“...I’m really high up.”

“Oh no, really?” He drawls, rolling his eyes. “Great observation, kiddo.” It’s a surprise to see the child not responding with her usual indignation, but Sunny’s mind seems elsewhere entirely.

“I can see more things,” She points further off in the distance. “Are those other huts over there? Are they like us?” Not waiting for an answer, Sunny lifts her mask and beams down at Bernard. “Come up! You can come see too!” The shrill excitement in her voice only makes his head throb further and he can’t even bring himself to remind her of the mask.

“Just—-give me a...ugh.” Bernard finds himself leaning against the tree for support, even that small motion making his muscles twinge in protest. He’d thought he would be able to fight it off but the withdrawal was only getting worse. A headache he could handle, but when the pain spread...

Just try and breathe. In and out. He shuts his eyes and tries to remind himself he has to be here for Sunny right now, that’s why he’s going through this in the first place. Is she talking to him right now? The most he can hear is the blood roaring in his ears, a harsh ringing—

Then quiet. The pain halts, though there’s still a faint echo of the sensation through his body. Bernard lifts his head to find he’s somewhere else.

Nighttime. Standing in overgrown grass surrounding a run-down house seemingly banished to the far out edge of the suburbs. Her house.

“Lisa?” The boy didn’t dare bring his voice above a hushed whisper, as always fearful breaking the silence would catch unwanted attention. The cold light of a television below her room was a nigh-constant reminder of the risk. Bernard tried not to let it distract him, eyes glued to the higher window where Lisa would appear many times before. He prayed for the creak of a window as it opened, the rustle of leaves as she would clamber down the nearby oak tree to get to him. But right now, it all was quiet.

Something was wrong. It had been wrong the day before, when Lisa stared at him through the fresh bandages on her face, hands loosely clasped around wrists with bruises that were even more recent. The plan didn’t work. At first Bernard thought she’d be furious with him—really he would’ve preferred that. Instead as he profusely apologized Lisa just watched him with hollow eyes. That look of tired resignation terrified him even more than her anger.

Bernard shifted uneasily from foot to foot. It was a school night for him and not their usual time to meet, but he had to check on her. Even if he didn’t Bernard was sure he’d be kept up by the worry anyway. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been waiting but enough was enough.

Motions slowed by apprehension, he stood at the base of the oak and grasped the sturdiest branch he could reach. The rough bark bit Bernard’s hands as he clumsily hoisted his stout figure up, sneakers scraping against the trunk of the tree in an attempt to get more leverage. Once he regained his bearings he reached for another branch, then another. By the end of his climb he was out of breath but his lips twisted in grim triumph. Lisa’s window was right within reach.

Past the glass-smudged glass Bernard finally saw her. She stood on the other side of the room, a shape distinguished only by the faint light filtering in from the outside. Besides that he couldn’t make much else out—had she noticed him yet? Was she ignoring him?

As he shifted closer, timidly reaching to tap on the window, it was then he noticed two important things.

Lisa’s feet didn’t touch the floor. A rope was tied to the ceiling.

No. That couldn’t be it. Something in Bernard’s gut twisted as he leaned in, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. That couldn’t be it. The shadows were playing tricks on him—he’d seen people die like that before on television, people who did horrible things and terrified people too weak to go on, but Lisa couldn’t. His Lisa was the strongest person he knew, even if she didn’t think it. With a trembling hand he knocked on the window—once, twice. But she didn’t look at him. Just gently swayed there, her slight form limp and, and…

Lifeless.

“Lisa.” His voice broke. “Lisa.” Fist now clenched, Bernard hit it against the window with a dull thud. He didn’t care about the noise anymore, he just wanted to make her move. To make her look at him again with those soft dark eyes. But Lisa was still.

Didn’t she tell him before? How there was another option, one that’d take her away from all of this. Bernard had felt tears well up in his eyes as he took her hands in his own, telling Lisa it would never come to that, they would find a better way. Lisa just sighed, calling him a crybaby, but she had gently squeezed his hands nonetheless. He had clung to that moment through everything.

Now...it felt like the world was spinning around him, about to fall apart. As Bernard hunched over, unable to look anymore, his body wracked with sobs so powerful he couldn’t even make a sound beside ragged breaths. It would’ve been so easy to let go of that tree branch, let himself fall—

“—-dy! Dad!” A voice pierces Bernard’s ears, a sudden brightness combined with the returning headache making him squint. All at once his real surroundings come back.

“Fuck.” Is all he manages to gasp out at first, blindly grasping for a steady hold onto something, anything, before his balance falters. His hands find a branch, bark pale and dead beneath his palms, his eyes lowering to see the dusty ground further below his feet.

“...Dad? What happened?” Sunny sits across from him on another branch. The fear in her small voice, the trust given by that title, it all makes something ache in Bernard’s chest besides the withdrawal. He can’t stand it.

“I told you not to call me that,” Bernard mutters , not making eye contact as he unsteadily clambers down from the branches. “We’re going home.” He can’t stand being in that tree another second, not after seeing that.

“But—but why can’t I stay longer?” Sunny sniffs, only reluctantly starting to follow and Bernard tries not to notice how she sounds on the verge of tears.

“Because I said so, now move.” Before the girl can even properly respond the last shreds of his patience dissipate and Bernard reaches up, pulling her out of the tree with not as much care as he probably should’ve taken. As they march across the dirt and grit Sunny makes a frustrated sound, attempting to wiggle her hand out of his grip. Soon the futility of that becomes apparent and she eventually falls in line, albeit still sniffling and dragging her feet. It’s only when the hut is a few paces away that she speaks again, voice fragile.

“...who’s Lisa?”

Bernard falters in his tracks, that name bringing back a rush of memories he’s been trying to keep at bay every step from that tree. His pace slows as his brain makes a weak attempt at forming an explanation, but fortunately before he can speak there’s movement in the doorway of the hut.

Antonio squints at them through the morning sun, no doubt adjusting from the dim candlelight of the dug out level underground where the others sleep. Bernard just watches sullenly as the man lifts a hand in greeting, already anticipating how he’ll soon detect the change in mood. All it takes is a few glances between the two and Antonio’s expression darkens with a frown. He doesn’t bother with further pleasantries. “What happened?” It’s like an accusation, but Bernard doesn’t even have the energy to get defensive.

“Just...take her.” Bernard can’t meet the other’s scrutinizing gaze as he nudges Sunny forward in Antonio’s direction. He only catches a glimpse of the girl rushing to her uncle’s side before he turns away.

“Bernard-“

“Relax, she’s just sulking cause she wanted to stay out some more,” He tries to sound as relaxed as he can to avoid suspicion, waving a hand dismissively as he begins to head around the back of the hut. It’s easier when Antonio can’t see his face. “I’ll be back.”

If Antonio replies, Bernard is already too far away to hear. Some of his tension eases with the knowledge that the others will be too preoccupied by Sunny to try and follow him. No judgement, no pity. None of them can understand this. None of them can understand why a small, pale figure with raven-dark hair stares at him as he clambers down a craggy cliff edge. Bernard shuts his eyes, the bite of the rope keeping him grounded as he falls into the rhythm of his descent.

When at last his feet touch ground again the realization of what he’s doing kicks in, and with it rises a sharp hunger in his core. It’s been so long since Bernard had dared go near this spot with the knowledge of what he’d left there long ago. But he needs it now, needs to forget for at least a little while. Bernard turns, eyes opening eagerly to see that familiar blue dotting the earth.

The pills are there waiting for him, right where he left them.

#role swap au #buzzo #buddy armstrong #lisa armstrong #lisa rpg #lisa the painful #drugs tw #abuse tw #suicide tw

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twomanyideas · 3 years

Text

The Way To A Man's Heart - Chapter 2

A collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404

AO3 | Prev: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Next:

Chapter 2

The hotel was fancier than Natsu remembered from their previous visit with Happy, Erza and Lucy, but he wasn’t all that concerned about it. Stuff like that had never mattered to him. He was much more worried about the line of people waiting to get into the restaurant. He’d been about to complain about it, but he never got the chance.

“Relax, Pyro. We have a reservation, remember?”

Right. And he was thankful for that. Outside of the unexpected train ride, this dinner had been a godsend. The perfect solution to what had been shaping up to be an uncomfortable situation.

Natsu loved his guildmates; they were his nakama after all, but they were too damn nosy for their own good. It was bad enough that they’d already made Gray’s life miserable by encouraging Juvia’s antics despite his constant rejections, but now it seemed they’d set their sights on him.

He knew he should have expected it, but he’d hoped that they would have interpreted his lack of romantic interest in Lucy for what it was. Instead, they’d decided he was oblivious, and encouraged her as well.

Natsu loved Lucy dearly. He just wasn’t in love with her, but he didn’t want to hurt her by telling her that. He’d kind of hoped she’d get bored by his lack of response and move on to someone else. Someone like Loke, who was clearly crazy about her. But that hadn’t happened yet, and even worse, he’d overheard Mira telling Cana that Lucy planned to make her move that night.

He’d jumped at the chance to escape the guild. A night full of food and drink was just what he’d been in the mood for, and the prospect of hanging out with Gray intrigued him.

He followed Gray to a podium, where a hostess greeted them. That already was a big change from the places they usually ate. The hostess verified their reservation and handed them off to a server, who led them down a dimly lit hallway and into a small room.

“Your table isn’t ready yet, but this is our lounge,” she announced with a smile. “It’s not as noisy as our main bar, and you can still enjoy a drink while you wait.”

She gestured towards the lounge’s bar area and left. Music played softly on the room’s music lacrimas, and along with the usual bar stools there were several sofas that looked more expensive than Natsu’s house, contents included. He decided the bar stools were probably safer.

The lounge had large windows, giving them a splendid view of the ocean.

“Oh wow, this is great!” he exclaimed, watching the people on the beach enjoy the warmth and beauty of the setting sun. Everyone looked like they were having so much fun, and there had been so many stalls to check out. He longed to go join them.

When was the last time they’d been able to do anything fun?

“Yeah,” Gray agreed. “Maybe we can check it out after we eat? Mavis knows I won’t be able to get you back on the train after that.”

Natsu hated to admit it, but Gray probably had a point. They took their seats, and the bartender walked over to them.

“Can I interest you in a drink?” she asked politely. “Yeah.” Gray pored over the wine and cocktail menu he received. “Could we get two of those magic drinks?” “Excellent choice, Sir. Two Magic Wonders coming right up.”

Natsu’s stomach rumbled as the smell of food wafted over to them, causing Gray to roll his eyes at him. Gray got the bartender’s attention again and added, “Can we get an order of your spiciest appetizer too?”

“Sure thing.” The bartender put their order in and continued to mix drink orders.

Gray got up and patted Natsu's shoulder, “There, don’t say I never did anything for you.”

“Hey, where you going?”

“To take a leak.”

He walked off and Natsu watched him go, amused to notice his friend had kept his shirt on for once. It felt almost unnatural. His eyes lingered briefly on Gray’s broad shoulders, traveling down his back, and before he even knew what he was doing, he found himself staring at Gray’s ass and thinking about how nice it was.

“Oh, and try not to destroy the place while I’m gone.”

Gray turned around then, a teasing smile on his face which turned into a wink when he noticed Natsu’s eyes on him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Natsu spluttered, his cheeks red with indignation, or at least that’s what he told himself, refusing to acknowledge for the moment that his best friend had caught him checking him out. Gray’s parting chuckle irritated him even more.

Stupid Ice Princess. Like he couldn’t be left alone for five minutes without getting into trouble. What did Gray think he was, a Vulcan in a pottery shop?

But seriously, what in the world had possessed him to do that?

It had to be Juvia. He cursed her for his sudden awareness. Ever since she’d joined the guild it had been Gray-sama this and Gray-sama that, until the guy’s name lingered in the air, working its way into Natsu’s brain like some kind of annoying hypnotic suggestion he couldn’t escape.

Yeah, that had to be it.

He went back to staring out the window while he waited for Gray to return.

0-0

Gray entered the restaurant’s bathroom, closing the door behind him quietly and checking the stalls to make sure they were empty before he allowed himself to react.

“Yes!” He pumped his fists in the air in celebration, smiling so widely he barely recognized himself in the mirror.

He had a chance! Natsu had been checking him out, and that had never happened before. At least, not that he’d ever noticed.

Feeling more confident that this plan might actually get him somewhere, Gray did his business, his head up in the clouds, filled with possible dream scenarios about how the evening could go.

You've got a little something there. Oh, it's me! Nah, too corny.

That sunset looks beautiful, doesn’t it? Not nearly as beautiful as you, though. Ugh… too sappy.

There had to be some smooth move he could make, something not too in-your-face yet still obvious enough even the Flame Brain would get it.

Well, whatever. He had Natsu all to himself tonight, with an enjoyable meal ahead of them and the beach to look forward to after that. He'd think of something. For now, he’d start small. Maybe he’d offer a compliment. Everyone liked those. Right?

Gray washed his hands, and after giving himself one last pep talk, he headed back to the bar. As he walked, he tried to remember a joke Loke had told him earlier. It had been a little crass, but he was sure Natsu would find it funny. Gray could almost hear Natsu’s laughter ringing in the air.

Yeah, just like that.

It took him a second to realize he hadn’t imagined it. As he got closer to the lounge, he could hear Natsu’s laughter loud and clear, and Gray thought it was the best sound in the world. A smile spread across his face, only to be wiped off immediately at the sight that greeted him at the bar.

More specifically, at the sight of the barstool he’d left behind, which was now occupied by none other than Sting Fucking Ew-cliffe.

He’d only been gone for a few minutes. Where had Sting even come from?!

Gray clenched his fists, fighting off the urge to grab the Sabertooth Master by the collar of his shirt and pull him out of his seat. But as much as he’d like to do something like that, he knew it was a bad idea. If he was a jerk, it would piss Natsu off and that would be the end of their evening.

Instead, he plastered a smile on his face and approached the two dragon slayers.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, hey, you’re back,” Natsu said as his laughter died down. “Sting told me a joke.”

Sting offered Gray a half wave, looking unexcited to see him. The feeling was entirely mutual.

“Well, it was nice of you to stop by to say hello but don’t let us keep you.”

“Me? Nah, I’ve got time to spare. Our table isn’t ready either.” Sting casually rested his arm on the bar and turned to Natsu, “I’m surprised to see you guys here.”

Great. This was going to be awhile. Gray decided he might as well sit down and begrudgingly claimed the vacant stool on Natsu's other side.

“Our table?” He looked around, trying to spot anyone he might recognize from Sabertooth. “I don’t see anyone else here. Did you get stood up?” “Of course not! He’s just late,” Sting said, sounding pretty sure of himself even as his legs bounced on the edge of the stool and his eyes darted in the direction of the hallway they'd come in from.

“Stood up? So you’re on a date?” Natsu asked, pouting in disappointment and giving Gray a mini heart attack for a second until he added, “I thought maybe Rogue would join you.” Sting promptly stilled, staring at Natsu and blinking rapidly. “Uhm... Rogue is my date.”

Natsu laughed heartily, “Good one, but seriously, is it anyone we know?”

Gray winced, almost feeling sorry for the guy. Definitely not what you wanted to hear, especially not from someone you looked up to. With any luck, Rogue would get there before Natsu’s obliviousness destroyed Sting’s confidence any further. Although, he had to admit that would be fun to watch, too.

“Why wouldn’t it be Rogue? I mean, you and uhm-” Sting looked over at Gray, eyes narrowing in concentration and fingers snapping before he shrugged his shoulders- “him don’t strike me as dating either, but here you are.”

“Well, but aren’t you the Twin Dragons? I thought you guys were brothers.”

Brothers?!

How the hell could Natsu think that? Sure they were called the Twin Dragons, but they looked nothing alike. They even had different last names, for fuck’s sake.

Gray could only stare at him in amazement. He was in love with an idiot. Might as well say he was moronsexual.

Sting spoke up before Gray could call Natsu out.

“That’s just our team name, stupid. Do you really think I’d date my brother?”

“Do you really think Gray would ask me out on a date?” It started out as a chortle, but Natsu soon burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

Gray no longer thought it was the best sound ever.

“Why wouldn’t he? And I mean, look at this place-” Sting gestured at the fancy decor and the expensive furniture in the lounge- “It doesn’t exactly scream just friends, does it?”

Natsu shrugged, a faint smile still playing on his lips. "Nope, that’s not what happened here. I just overheard Gray talking about having a reservation at an all you can eat restaurant as part of a job reward and invited myself along."

It seemed his and Loke’s plan had worked a little too well. Gray desperately wanted to ask Natsu what he would have said if he had asked him out, but he wasn’t about to do that in front of Sting.

“You got a reservation as a reward? Man, I wish I’d seen that job.” Sting looked at Gray, eyes wide in disbelief. “I had to make one 3 weeks in advance!”

3 Weeks?!

Gray had no idea this place was that popular, and he wondered what strings Loke had pulled to get the last minute reservation. And more importantly, what he would ask for in return. He’d better make the most of it.

“Do you think Rogue will like it? It's our first date, so I wanted to impress him.” Sting looked around the lounge, suddenly eyeing the place with a look of dread.

“Um... sure,” Natsu said, “It has an awesome view of the beach and, you know, there’s food.”

“You’ve just described every restaurant in Akane,” Gray pointed out. Then again, he was pretty sure with restaurants, Natsu didn’t pay attention to anything outside of the food.

Natsu shrugged. “Where are our appetizers and drinks, anyway? Shouldn’t they be here by now?”

Gray silently agreed. He was hungry, and he’d really like for their date to start, minus the interloper.

“What about me? Do I look okay?” Sting stood up and turned around, eyes wide as he awaited their judgment.

“There’s something different about you. What is it?” Natsu muttered, tapping his chin with his finger as he studied Sting.

“Well, for one, he’s wearing an actual shirt.” Gray said with a frustrated sigh. This was not how he had envisioned their date going. What was it going to take to get rid of this guy?

Actually…

“You look fine, dude. Might have overdone it a bit on the cologne, though.”

“He’s not the only one.” Natsu scrunched up his nose. “You both smell like one of the Trimens.”

Gray bit back a retort, but Sting went into a panic, grabbing a napkin from the bar and scrubbing his neck. “Fuck, I knew it was too much. Does this help any? It doesn't, does it? I should clean it off.”

He bolted out of the lounge, dodging a few other guests who were being guided to their table, and shouting a “be right back” over his shoulder. Just as Gray had hoped he would.

“Take all the time you need,” Gray called out after him cheerfully, reclaiming his original seat because… well, he’d had it first.

“Well, that was something.” He said, glossing over that minor act of pettiness. “Didn’t think we’d bump into anyone we knew.”

“Hey, you think they'd be down for a fight later?” Nasu asked, punching his left fist into the palm of his right hand.

“Of course not. They’re on a date, moron. Do you really think they’d want to do something like that?”

“I would.”

“On a date?” Gray challenged, although he wasn’t sure why he was surprised. This was Natsu, after all.

“Yeah, why not? Aren’t you supposed to have fun on dates?”

Gray couldn’t really argue with that, and fighting with Natsu was always fun. He was about to suggest they spar later when he spotted the bartender coming their way.

“Two Magic Wonders, and some Firecracker Shrimp to whet your appetite,” she announced, arriving with their drinks and appetizer and setting them down before them. “Apologies for the long wait, we're fully booked tonight so we're a little backed up.”

Finally!

“I think they’re broken,” Natsu complained, examining the drinks with slight disappointment, “they just look like two glasses of plain water.”

Gray had to give him that one. This wasn’t what he’d expected from the so-called magically infused cocktails either.

“The spell is still unfinished,” the bartender explained. “You need to wrap your hand around the cup and focus some of your magic energy into it. It doesn’t need much-”

Gray could tell Natsu had stopped listening. Before she'd finished her sentence, he'd already grabbed the cup in his hand and set it on fire.

“Natsu!”

"Sir!"

He ignored the protests from both Gray and the bartender, keeping his attention on the glass, which had begun to shake in his hand. The liquid bubbled and turned bright red, and then it shot up like a failed potion, right into Natsu's face.

“You idiot! Do you ever think?!”

So much for not insulting him.

“Geez, relax, will ya? A little thing like that isn’t gonna hurt me,” Natsu pointed out, evaporating the liquid easily, as Gray had seen him do so many times. The bartender breathed an audible sigh of relief, wiping the remaining spillage from Natsu's drink off the bar with a cleaning rag. “I’ll be right back with another drink,” she assured them before moving to another section of the bar, where she restarted the mixing process.

“You’re still an idiot,” Gray grumbled, making Natsu laugh in response.

“Well, you know what they say, it takes one to know one.”

Gray opened his mouth to answer, but Natsu quickly changed the subject.

“Why don’t you try it then?”

“Gladly.”

Gray focused a small amount of magic on his hand and wrapped the glass in a thin layer of ice. As soon as he did so, bubbles sprouted from the bottom, rising to the surface and forming a vortex that spun until the liquid had changed color from clear to the vibrant blue of glacier ice. Vapor rose from the liquid’s surface and transformed into small snowflakes that gently floated back down into the drink.

“That’s so dainty. Precisely what I’d expect from an Ice Princess,” Natsu snickered. “I bet mine’s gonna be way cooler.”

“I just hope the restaurant’s still in one piece by the time you’re done.”

Gray took a small sip, swishing the contents around in his mouth and closing his eyes.

The liquid was cold, so much so that it sent a small but welcome shiver up his spine. Hints of chocolate and peppermint danced on his tongue, reminding him of when he’d lived with Ur and Lyon.

Their training had been intense, but on days when she’d been pleased with their progress, Ur had made him and Lyon hot cocoa that tasted much like this. She had made them responsible for crushing the candy mints, and they would bicker about the best way to do it as Ur laughed at them from behind the stove. He could almost picture it, and rather than cause him the usual grief, the memory made him smile.

He opened his eyes to find Natsu watching in rapt fascination, his curiosity just about bursting out of him.

“Well? What did it taste like?”

Gray didn’t answer right away, still caught up in his memories. It took him a while to even register that Natsu was staring at him, focusing on his lips as if he’d never seen them before.

Gray thought of how to describe it, and suddenly he knew. “It tastes like winter.”

And just like that, Natsu snapped out of his trance, bouncing in his seat with excitement. “Ooh, me! I want to try winter!” Gray covered his drink with his hand, fixing Natsu with a glare that screamed at him to back off.

“Come on, don’t be so stingy! I don’t have a drink.”

“And whose fault is that? Besides, I don’t know where your mouth has been. No way I want that in my drink!”

Natsu pouted, but soon mischief crept into his eyes. Before Gray could consider what that could mean, Natsu had already grabbed his hand. Gray’s heart beat faster, not sure where Natsu was going with this, but excited just the same. Natsu’s tongue darted out, licking a stripe across the palm of Gray’s hand while maintaining eye contact.

Holy shit!

“Now you do,” Natsu grinned, looking quite pleased with himself even as Gray struggled to come up with an appropriate reaction. He took advantage of that, grabbing Gray’s glass and taking a sip.

“What do you know! Your magic actually tastes good, kind of like peppermint hot chocolate.”

Gray looked away, not wanting Natsu to see just how much his little stunt had affected him.

“So, uh, what were you thinking about? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that before.”

“My drink tasted like the hot cocoa Ur used to make for us,” Gray said, relieved to be back on more comfortable ground.. “I hadn’t thought about that in a long time.”

“Why didn’t you just say that, you dumbass? I wouldn’t have pushed.”

“Yeah, you would have.” Gray chuckled.

Natsu tried to deny it, but he must’ve known it was a stretch, so he laughed along with Gray. “Okay, yeah. I would have.” He grabbed a Firecracker Shrimp and chewed on it. And for the second time since they’d arrived, Gray caught him staring out the window. “Another Magic Wonder,” the bartender returned with Natsu's drink. She'd also brought a fire extinguisher, and was trying, but failing, to hide it subtly under the bar.

If Natsu had noticed, he didn't seem to be bothered by it, focusing only on the glass in front of him.

“Don't overdo it this time,” Gray reminded him.

Natsu furrowed his brow in concentration, coating his glass in a small flame and anxiously watching the liquid change color again. It slowly turned that same intense red from before. Instead of the vapor from Gray’s drink, there was a plume of smoke that transformed into a bright flame that remained lit.

He eyed it for exactly one second before drinking all of it down in one gulp.

Gray had expected Natsu to react in some over the top manner. To yell, or go on about how his drink was superior, just like his magic, but there was only silence. That wasn’t exactly true, though. Now that he was paying more attention, Gray could see that Natsu’s eyes were teary.

“Natsu?” Gray put a hand on his arm, worried by the uncharacteristic change. “What’s happening?”

“I’m fine, it’s just- it tasted like Igneel’s fire,” Natsu sniffled, hugging the cup to his chest with reverence. “It’s been so long since I last tasted it and now it’s all gone.”

Oh no! Natsu looked like he was ready to cry. That wasn’t supposed to happen on a date! Gray panicked, not knowing what to do or say to make Natsu feel better. He looked at his drink, still sitting on the bar, and considered offering it to him.

Idiot! He won’t want your stupid drink after tasting Ignel’s fire. Oh, of course! How dense could he be? He could order him another one.

“Don't worry, I’ll get you another one.”

Gray scrambled out of his seat after glimpsing the bartender serving a customer at the other end of the bar.

“I’ll be right back,” he called over his shoulder, determined to fix this slight glitch in his plans.

He waited as patiently as he was able for her to finish.

“I need another Magic Wonder.”

“Sure, I’ll put in an order, but it’s going to take a while. We’re very backed up.”

“Isn't there something I can do to speed it up?” He thought of the jewels in his pocket. “I can pay extra if that helps.”

“Sir, I already-”

“Please? This can literally make or destroy my night.”

The bartender glanced over at Natsu, who still looked despondent, hugging the empty glass to his chest. Her expression softened slightly. “Alright, I’ll do it just this once. Stay right there.”

Gray nodded, tapping his fingers on the bar as he waited. A couple sat next to him blocking his view of Natsu but he dared not move, worried the bartender might decide to give the drink to someone else.

As soon as she returned with his order, Gray turned around, almost dropping the drink he'd shamelessly begged for when he saw his bar stool once again occupied by someone who wasn't him. Any relief he might have felt that it wasn't Sting this time was overshadowed by dismay at seeing Rogue talking to Natsu, leaning in ever so slightly and nodding in sympathy.

Oh, come on!

He all but stomped his way back over, still careful not to spill any of the drink, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get another for quite a while.

“You’re in my seat,” Gray informed Rogue, attempting to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know.” Rogue got up and moved to stand on the other side of Natsu.

“Here you go,” Gray said, placing the fresh drink in front of Natsu before reclaiming his seat.

He watched as Natsu put the glass he had been holding on the bar and stared at the new drink with something akin to awe. He cupped his hand around it and let out the barest flicker of magic to complete the spell.

“Are you okay?” Gray asked worriedly, not used to seeing Natsu act this way.

“Yeah, I just don’t want to waste any of it.”

The way he said that made Gray feel like he was intruding, so he turned his attention to Rogue, who still stood peering into the dim corners of the lounge.

“You’re looking for Sting, right? He’s in the bathroom,” Gray informed him, frowning as he realized the Sabertooth Master had been gone for quite some time. “Come to think of it, he’s been in there a while.”

Rogue looked heavenward and sighed. “Great. I hope he's not munching on the paper towels again.”

“Seriously? That’s disgusting!” Gray pursed his lips in distaste.

“Meh, he’s eaten worse things.” Rogue shrugged, taking a seat next to Natsu.

To Gray’s slight surprise, he in no way looked like he was about to go on a first date. As far as Gray could tell, Rogue looked just about the same as he always did, contrary to Sting, who had obviously dolled himself up for the occasion like a teenage girl.

Gray leaned back so he could see past Natsu and study the shadow dragon slayer better, wondering if he was about to deal with another nervous wreck. But Rogue showed no signs of being anxious. If anything, he looked tired and frazzled, which Gray guessed made sense. The guy was late, probably just rolled off a train.

“Is something wrong? Was this your seat too?” Rogue frowned at him, realizing he was under scrutiny.

“Huh? Oh, no. I’m just surprised. The way Sting was talking earlier I thought you’d be more into this,” Gray said, turning his attention back to Natsu.

He seemed to have calmed down, although he appeared to be in deep thought while staring at his drink. Gray supposed there was a first time for everything. He’d give him a few more minutes to snap out of it. It’s not like they could get anywhere until they were either called to their table or Sting got out of the damn bathroom.

“This? This what? You mean the restaurant?”

“He means Sting,” Natsu said, joining the conversation when Gray least expected it.

“What about Sting?” “If you don't like him, just tell him. He's your friend. You should be honest with him about how you feel.”

Rogue flinched so hard he almost slid off his seat. “I- What? What the hell are you talking about?”

Gray began to suspect that Rogue was as clueless as Natsu as to why he was there.

“Rogue! You made it!” Gray, Natsu and Rogue all turned towards Sting’s voice, which could somehow be heard over all the other noise. He walked toward them in quick steps and Gray brought his hand up to his mouth to cover up the laugh he couldn’t contain.

Sting’s shirt was covered in wet spots. His hair, which had been styled in perfectly gelled spikes, had flattened into bangs, and there was a long piece of toilet paper attached to one of his shoes.

He’d gone to wash off some cologne, but had returned looking like a survivor of some bizarre bathroom battle, and somehow he still reeked of cologne. But you wouldn't know it from his beaming smile.

Sting walked up to Rogue, reaching into his pocket and pulling out... something Gray couldn’t make out at first because he shoved it at Rogue with such speed that it became nothing but a blurry shape.

“Here, for you.” Sting said, placing what looked to be a small box into Rogue's hand.

“What’s this for?” Rogue said, breaking away from the mess that was Sting, to glance down at the box.

“Open it.”

Rogue slowly slid the elastic bow off and opened it. Whatever was inside caused him to jerk his head back toward Sting with wide eyes.

“Oh.”

“Do you like it?” Sting stared at Rogue in a way that Gray recognized, with a face full of hope and hearts in his eyes.

“I-I uh,” Rogue stuttered, looking back and forth rapidly between Sting, Gray, Natsu, and the lounge. “Give me a minute...”

“You know, I‘m thinking Rogue didn’t know this was a date.” Natsu whispered in Gray’s ear, which was to say he’d blurted it out in a voice loud enough to make his ears ring.

“You think?”

“Yeah, I do,” Natsu nodded, the obvious sarcasm flying straight over his head. “I kinda feel bad now. Maybe we should have told him.” Gray stiffened, Natsu’s words along with the advice he’d offered Rogue earlier echoed through his head. No matter how the thought caused his stomach to twist itself into knots, he knew he’d have to be honest about his intentions at some point. Natsu was his friend too, he deserved as much. “Is that true?” Sting’s shoulders slumped upon hearing the less than subtle conversation between them. “But I asked you and everything.” “Yes, I realize that now,” Rogue said, sounding a bit snappy, which Gray couldn’t blame him for. He gathered himself quickly, though, taking a deep breath and getting up from his seat. “Come-” he grabbed Sting’s hand and led him to a sofa that had just opened up when a couple was called to their table. Gray took another sip of his drink, mirroring Natsu, who he could tell was focusing his ears on the Twin Dragons’ conversation. Under any other circumstance, Gray wouldn’t give a damn about how that would unfold, but the possibility of having a heartbroken Sting join them for the rest of the night changed things a bit. He nudged Natsu, raising his eyebrows in silent question. Natsu didn’t answer, still listening, but if his expressions were anything to go by, it was not going well. Fuck. Please. This can’t be happening… Curiosity getting the best of him, Gray peeked over his shoulder. Sting looked positively dejected, and the visible part of Rogue's face looked no better. “Well, this is awkward.” Gray turned back to Natsu, not sure if he’d be able to watch that train wreck in his current situation. Would his night end like that, too? “Yeah,” Natsu sighed, but then he perked up and started laughing. “Actually, I think they’ll be fine.” “Oh-” Gray absently grabbed a shrimp and began eating- “Good for them.” “Uhm, Gray…” “Hmm?” Gray grabbed another and chewed lazily, not realizing that Natsu might’ve been trying to warn him until he felt his lips and tongue burning with the heat of a thousand suns. He swallowed what was still in his mouth in one go, sending the burn down his throat now as well, and broke out in a violent coughing fit. The blazing heat spread through his entire body fast, setting his skin on fire and causing sweat drops to form on his face. Whose stupid idea was it to get the spiciest appetizer?! Oh, right, that would be him. God bless his icy drink. He gulped it all down, only half hearing Natsu’s rambunctious laughter.

“Who the hell deemed this safe for consumption?” he gasped, fanning at himself in a sorry attempt to cool down.

“Someone who's not an Ice Princess like you,” Natsu snickered, holding out a shirt that looked awfully familiar.

Damn it! How did that happen?!

Gray grabbed his shirt and put it back on before anyone could complain, calling on his magic to help cool himself down.

Natsu shook his head, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Pervert.”

“I can’t help it!”

“I know, Ice Block, I know.” Natsu finished the last of his drink and set it back down on the bar, his eyes straying back to the window for a full minute before peering back at Gray.

“Listen, I know this was a big part of your reward and everything, but do you mind if we take off?”

“You want to go back home?” Gray was crestfallen. He’d thought they were having a good time, outside of the unexpected drama.

“I didn’t say that, but it’s hard to sit still when I know that’s waiting for us,” Natsu said, pointing at the beach. “I’ll even pitch in since it’s my idea.”

Gray thought about it. This restaurant had been Loke’s idea and as far as he was concerned it had already served its purpose. If Natsu would rather go to the beach, then they’d do that. It was bound to be more fun. Plus, this way, if Natsu reacted badly to his confession, he wouldn’t have to worry about property damage.

As much.

“Yeah, we can do that.”

“Wow, that was easier than I thought. That shrimp too much for you?” Natsu taunted.

Gray ignored him, focusing on finding the bartender so he could close their tab. Luckily, she was heading towards him. He was just about to address her when a voice spoke up next to him. “Hey there! Can I get two of the Magic Something drinks?”

“Yes, of course,” the bartender assured Sting. She turned to Gray. “I believe your table should be ready any minute. Would you like anything else?”

“No, thank you. We actually won’t be needing that reservation after all.”

“Alright then, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“You’re leaving?” Rogue asked, appearing by Sting’s side. “But you haven’t even eaten yet.” “We passed a ton of food stalls on the way here,” Natsu said, already sounding excited by the prospect. “Besides, the food they serve here is too spicy for the Ice Princess.”

Gray glared, “Oy! That shrimp was the spiciest appetizer they had.”

Rogue rolled his eyes at the exchange, “You two sound like a married couple.��

"Well, you kinda look like one," Natsu laughed, pointing at the necklace Rogue was now wearing. A thin silver chain with a crystal pendant that was identical to the one dangling from Sting's ear.

"Oh, shut up," Rogue huffed, clutching the piece of jewelry as his cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink than Natsu's hair.

“I’m glad things worked out,” Gray said, mostly to be polite. He winced as he heard people scream in panic as they witnessed Natsu drying off Sting’s clothing with his fire. He could almost hear the bartender rushing to the extinguisher. Why didn’t the idiot ever think?

Yeah, going to the beach was probably for the best.

"Me too." Rogue eyed the spectacle warily. "Sorry you got dragged into that."

“Yeah, it was… something.”

“He means well.” Rogue smiled apologetically, but his eyes were soft with affection. "Oh. That reminds me, can you thank Natsu for me? He was right."

“Now there’s something you don’t hear every day.”

Rogue snorted into his hand, looking less tired than he had when he'd just arrived. "Alright. Get Natsu out of here before-"

Whatever Rogue said after that became inaudible when the screams increased and were almost immediately joined by the loud hiss of the fire extinguisher.

At a loss for words, Gray and Rogue watched the chaos of scattering guests, the bartender frantically trying to extinguish the fire, Sting inhaling the massive gust of white powder blasted at him, and a loudly cheering Natsu.

"... Just get him out of here."

“Good plan.”

Gray hurried over to the two dragon slayers, not about to give Rogue another second to reconsider his life choices. He grabbed Natsu by the arm and pulled him back towards their seats so he could pay for their tab.

“It’s on the house, please just go!” The bartender waved him away, looking like she was on the brink of having a complete meltdown.

“Thank you.” Gray took out his jewel pouch and placed a large tip on the bar, wanting to make up for some of what they had put her through.

Natsu, oblivious as ever, thanked her and waved blithely even as Gray dragged him out of the lounge.

They had almost reached the exit when Natsu shook off Gray’s arm.

“I can walk on my own, you know.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

They left the restaurant and walked through the lobby in silence until Natsu started giggling.

“The look on the bartender’s face when Sting ate that powder!”

Now that the restaurant was safely behind them, Gray couldn’t help but join in. Soon they were laughing so hard they had to hold on to each other to keep from falling down, earning them curious but mostly annoyed looks from the other patrons.

#fairy tail #gratsu #stingue #gratsu & stingue #other #fics #update

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