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doorsclosingslowly · 3 years ago

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I will love You at 4:15 p.m. next Tuesday

Few people get to live the ecstasy of being exactly where they belong. Tonight, that place is the top floor of a bargain supermarket chain’s parking garage, and Jesper’s waiting for the sparks.

7.7k | POLYCROWS with focus Jesper/Kaz/Inej, also Jesper/Wylan, Matthias/Wylan/Kuwei, etc etc | NYE friends-to-lovers in our modern capitalist hellscape

It’s not a real New Year’s Eve Party. Correction—it’s not Jesper’s kind of party. Case in point: there are thousands of empty tiny bowls with remainders of—stuff, fancy food, on the Brekker-Ghafa table, potatoes and cheese and canapés, and fuck, Jesper promised Inej he’d be her vegetable peeler for tonight and he definitely meant to help out, he meant to get off work early instead of especially late, didn’t mean to show up long past nine when dinner was supposed to start at seven—which, Jesper’s never turning down any chance to hang with his friends ever, especially now they’re all working all the time and he hasn’t seen anyone but Wylan in two months, but five hours of waiting for midnight is a little ambitious unless you’re planning to get wasted—but it seems like they’re already done with dinner. They didn’t wait for him to catch up. Of course they didn’t: Jesper’s always late, and there’s no telling when he’ll finally show up. That’s just who he is.

This time, he really wanted to do better, though. He also really didn’t want to show up at his friends’ flat in boring slacks and a dark grey blazer and a tie that isn’t even funny or neon—he barely dares let Wylan see him like this, although yeah, Wylan was right, it’s pathetic to change in the bathroom and slink out of his house under cover of darkness especially since he made Wylan help him pick out the business casual outfits in the first place—and he didn’t mean to show up with his piercings in his coat pocket, hiding in a Fisherman’s Friend tin that his first girlfriend in Amsterdam bought him on the second date.

That’s not for sentimental reasons, that tin. It’s just the only small portable box he could find two hours before the third job interview he landed. For a real, adult non-criminal job, and up until then he’d been blissfully ignoring the implications of it. Like, sensible office job holders don’t show up for the interview with studded ears and lips and brows and nose. They don’t have purple and teal shoulder-length locs, and none of his clothes exactly screamed, ‘employable in an office writing machine manuals’…

Yeah, job hunting wasn’t easy, but his face probably didn’t help. It had to go.

It’s disqualifying enough that Jesper dropped out of uni, has no employment history he can cite because it was all work for Kaz, he’s Black, somehow visibly genderweird even when he’s not trying, and also he kept fidgeting in the chair even worse than normal because he couldn’t bring any of the toys that Kaz keeps throwing his way, made especially for people with fucking brain doesn’t do what it should and neither does body disease.

Fucking Kaz, who got really into disability accommodations nine months ago when he decided to badger Wylan into applying for university—or Wylan might have mentioned wistfully that he’d have liked to do Chem, anyway—suddenly, Jesper’s a fuckup disease turned into undiagnosed ADHD, into I’m going to string up your paediatrician and your teachers and Colm too by their entrails why did they miss such an obvious case, into Jes, the world’s ableist but I can help you.

When Kaz has already helped him.

Helped him far too much.

Kept helping him over and over. Kept him off the streets when he failed out of uni, kept him out of jail, away from bankruptcy, in Da’s good graces, employed—for lack of a better term, but even if nothing Jesper did for Kaz was legal it was work and he did get paid, so—kept him a vague facsimile of a functional adult human being for the better part of a decade.

It was high time Jesper stopped leeching off his best friend’s generosity.

Especially when he’s already sponging off of Wylan. But Wylan’s wealth is inherited, so Jesper doesn’t feel too bad about redistributing it to the needy—id est Jesper—whereas Kaz is a busy bee businessman of a minor mob boss. He’s earnt every ill-gotten cent. Jesper can justify dating Wylan and living off of him, because the very idea of inheritance belies the meritocratic myth of capitalism, let alone works counter to a genuinely equal better economy and society et cetera and so on. Jesper’s not that clear on the details of how to make the world better, but that’s what he has Inej for: she understands the complexities of justice on a global scale. It’s even her job now, and as always, she excels.

He can’t really ask Kaz out, or Inej—well both—since yeah, Inej and him have already basically agreed they love each other, but it would be… it would be weird, if he gets together with Inej and not Kaz, like it’s a rejection of Kaz somehow, when he’s just trying—not to take advantage.

It would be unfair, definitely, to make a move while he was just… vibing. Existing. Living off his friends.

He had to get a job.

He got a job.

So there.

It’s not ideal that the job resulted in Kaz blowing up at him when Jesper tendered his resignation from crime. It’s not ideal that the job’s kept him so busy he didn’t have time to see any of his friends in two months. It’s not ideal, that he’s late for the New Year’s Eve party because he spent five hours rearranging his computer desktop and exploring old files in the chaotic shared directory and walking to the kitchen for coffee after coffee to escape his empty lonely one person office, in-between short panicking glances at the manual he was supposed to write and just—couldn’t, couldn’t make the words go and the panic only kept mounting until he realized he was the last person left in the building and he hadn’t finished writing the useless manual that was already past deadline. It’s not ideal. It’s life, though, real adult life, and Jesper had better get used to it.

Get used to missing his friends. Get used to keeping his piercings in a tin, fingering them back into their holes on the way home—except tonight he was too stressed and forgot, and his hair—

“What happened to your hair, Jes?!” Nina shouts, before she even envelops him in a hug.

“Evening, gorgeous,” Jesper replies, because she’s really outdone herself tonight, wearing a deep red sheath dress with cleavage down to the navel. The fabric shimmers, even though Kaz and Inej’s big room just has a standard light fixture and some wall sconces. Nina shouldn’t be able to look like she’s on the red carpet in a small cheap flat, but she does. She always does. And Matthias definitely agrees, judging by the set of hickeys on her neck.

“I buzzed it off,” he adds. “New job, new me, you know. I needed to look professional.”

“They pay overtime, I hope,” Kaz hisses.

“Hello to you too, Kaz. Lovely to see you. I’ve missed your unfailing positivity.” Jesper can’t see the rest of the gang in the dining room, so he steps back into the hallway to change out of his dress shoes. The house shoes he keeps at Brekker-Ghafa are green crocodiles that look like they’re devouring his angles. Inej bought them for him, years ago: they’re dinged up, but Jesper’s made so many jokes about the bad luck that’ll befall him when he throws them out that he’s started to believe them.

Kaz follows. He viciously pulls Jesper’s coat off the hanger and rummages through the pockets. He throws the piercing tin.

Jesper catches it, easily. He rattles it. It doesn’t sound like the rattling while he jogged here: despite Kaz’ bad mood, this is a different, homey rattle. A rattle of joy. Of love.

Of booze, hopefully.

“I hope they pay damages for pain and suffering. Or maybe you should pay them,” Kaz rasps. “No blazer in the flat, no tie. Hang them up too—” even though guess who’s wearing a white dress shirt and black tie and an actual fucking brocade suit vest, the hypocrite— “and put your face back right before you eat something. I know you forgot lunch.”

Kaz really doesn’t like the new job. Well, of course Kaz doesn’t like it, he lost his right hand man, his enforcer, when Jesper decided to stop mooching off his friends and try to make it in the real world. He lost the best second he’ll ever have because there’s no-one like him, no-one who’ll ever keep up with Kaz like Jesper does—but that can’t be the whole reason, because sure, Kaz sulked for several days three months ago in his recalcitrant Kaz way where both noticing and not noticing that Kaz is angry is an insult, but then, he decided to be helpful.

He told Jesper to bring a fidget toy to the interviews.

To call if they said anything unkind so he could make Kuwei set their offices on fire.

To apply elsewhere in the first place, because Kaz doesn’t think this kind of office work suits Jesper. It’s—yes, fine, it’s painful, because writing machine manuals is the closest that Jesper can get to using his aborted engineering degree, the only place above minimum wage that even called him back, and Kaz doesn’t think Jesper’s good enough to hack it there.

Jesper told Kaz he didn’t need help. Kaz told him that actually, he does, he’ll never amount to anything on his own, and Jesper punched him.

They made up before Jesper got so busy at work that he stopped showing up at the Ghafa-Brekker flat at random times of the day, but only sort of. No apologies, just an understanding, so—fuck Kaz.

And fuck Kaz, insert wink here. Jesper still loves him, and Kaz loves him too. He was told so by the man himself, by accident, when he physically dragged Jesper out of a casino four months ago, and Kaz knew him then so a little fight won’t have changed a thing. They’re both just… stubborn. Busy.

But Jesper’s going to prove he’s not a fuckup when he manages to hold down an adult real human job and as soon as he’s that step closer to impersonating a functional person—well, he isn’t quite there yet, case in point: needing to stay this late in the office to write a boring fucking manual—but he’s trying so hard. This time, he won’t just quit. He won’t run from a challenge. He’s turning his entire life around.

As soon as Jesper’s not permanently exhausted and busy doing overtime, he’s asking Inej and Kaz out.

Matthias is drinking beer. That’s probably not an insult against Jesper specifically, and anyway, Inej made Kaz pull Jesper off bartending duty in the club as soon as she found out how many bartenders are alcoholics—he’d be angry at all of them for being overly interested in his addictive personality problems if he hadn’t also stolen from—well, mostly Kaz, but all of them at one point or another, to pay gambling debts, and so, fair’s fair. They’re allowed to berate him for being an impulsive idiot.

He still mixes great drinks, though.

Even Kaz drinks his cocktails, in the safety of the flat—no macho straight whiskeys here. Wylan likes everything horrendously sour. Kuwei’s teetotal this month for a fad diet that’s probably just a weird joke he’s playing on—not Jesper because he genuinely doesn’t give a fuck, but Nina most likely, or Matthias—but he still lets Jesper make him virgin cocktails and comes back for a refill, ten minutes later, so it’s good Jesper’s not even hungry tonight. Booze has calories. He downs the Gin Fizz he mixed for himself in one, and then turns back towards Matthias.

Still nursing a single Pils. He must’ve brought it: Kaz and Inej have a good house bar, but no beer. Beer’s boring.

“Beer, the manliest of drinks,” Jesper says—shouts at Matthias, apparently, because the blond top knot muscle man shushes him like a total dickhead. Jesper mixes himself a White Russian without looking down. It’s too strong. Since it’s just for him, though, who cares about messing up. “I read something about alewives and witches actually being beer brewers, though, so sorry, Matthias, I’m not swooning at your masculine energy. Gender’s fake.”

“Hi, Jesper,” Matthias says politely.

“I don’t really swing your way. Hi, though.”

“You swing quite literally every way,” Matthias corrects snootily, because he’s dating Wylan now, and Wy tells him things. Being polyamorous is hard work, and none of the ethical nonmonogamy guides ever draw attention to the biggest problems: like when your boyfriend starts dating a himbo Norwegian just because another of your best friends—and the girlfriend of a friend you want to date—got duped into going out with him. Matthias isn’t even that bad, but fuck, he’s annoying.

Also, he’s a furry.

“I draw the lines at furries,” says Jesper.

“I’m not a furry.”

“You roleplay as a werewolf, wolfboy, and sorry, I’m not that hot for knotting.”

“It’s a role-playing game, Fahey.”

“Wy and me roleplay, too. You’re not special. Just, let me stress this, as humans.”

“The fact everyone loves you doesn’t give you the right to be an asshole who defames Werewolf, the Apocalypse,” Matthias hisses. “It’s not a sex thing.”

It’s definitely a sex thing. Matthias is blushing, even.

“Nothing about me gives me the right to do anything. Everything I like is suspect. That’s why I became an anarchist, baby!” Jesper finger guns at him, but Matthias is a fucking buzzkill who doesn’t even accept that conciliatory gesture. His offended faces is the funniest thing Jesper’s ever seen, and he can’t stop cackling, until—with a jolt, Jesper remembers that furries are people too, and worse, by kinkshaming Matthias he’s kinkshaming Nina by proxy, and she’s going to kill him. Wait. Is he—he’s kinkshaming Kuwei, too, right, since the two of them have been getting it on for a couple months now. And Wylan. Regular threesomes—there’s no way Matthias hasn’t been growling and barking in bed. Fuck. He really shouldn’t be making fun of Wylan’s friend with benefits, it’ll look like fucking jealousy, and that’s not Jesper’s style at all.

“I’m sorry, Matthias,” Jesper shouts into the big lumps ear, hugging him tightly. He’s crushing the Pils bottle in-between them, and it feels a little wet, but he’s probably spilled more over Matthias’ shirt, so it’s okay. “I love you, man. I don’t mind that you’re a furry at all. You can wear your wolf ears when you’re over at Wy’s house, I don’t mind, in fact I like—”

“Wylan, please shut up your boyfriend,” Matthias begs desperately. “Kuwei, sugar snail, take him. Please!”

Rude.

Jesper isn’t even dating Kuwei. It was a… three-time thing. Mutual separation. They aren’t even sexually compatible.

“That’s low, siccing your lovers on me,” Jesper says, and Matthias blushes again. What the fuck does Wylan see in a guy who blushes at the word lover? Lovers, boyfriends, fee-we-bees, whatever, a regular night benefiting from friendship while he’s also with Nina means the Norwegian church wolf boy is poly, now, and a furry, as much of a freak as the rest of them. And yet, inexplicably, Wylan doesn’t just like him—that one, Jesper gets—but thinks he’s hot. Attractive. Sexy. There’s no accounting for taste, though. It’s how Jesper’s managed to keep Wylan around—sure, he’s hot as fire, but he’s been living with Wylan for two years now, and if Wylan wasn’t a little peculiar in his tastes he’d have moved on to greener pastures.

Oh. There he is.

A knight in shining—paillette covered knitwear, come to save poor damsel Matthias from the big beautiful dragon Jesper that he’s also dating— “This could be a flute opera,” Jesper mutters blissfully into Wylan’s brow while he’s being held. And, carefully, walked backwards. “Really dramatic. Like that Mozart thing you like. Zauberflöte. You’re the hero, who is a—flutist, with a sword flute that makes explosions, and you’re rescuing that princess in a fursuit—”

“It’s actually a really fun game. You’d enjoy it, if you played Werewolf with us, I promise. Environmentalism. Apocalypse. Eco-terrorism. The lore’s so unhinged it could have come out of your mouth. You can even be a were-shark!”

Jesper kisses him. Open-mouthed, then nibbling lightly on his lower lip, back to booping the tip of Wy’s tongue with his own, and he only breaks away a little to gasp, “I love you so much. I’ll even let you fuck me in a fur suit.”

Wylan dumps him on the sofa.

Before Jesper has time to properly reel from the rejection, though, Wylan plops down beside him. The world’s still wobbling a little—might not just be the fake-out rebuff then—so Jesper lays his head into his boyfriend’s lap. He kicks off his house-shoes—one of the croc heads hits Nina in the shoulder, and she chucks it back and hits Wylan—and tucks in his legs so they fit onto the sofa, too. And so he doesn’t have to see his socks. They’re sad, thin black cotton things. They’re not Jesper socks.

Wylan idly massages his head.

He used to massage the dye in just like this, back when Jesper had locs.

First the bleach, carefully just on the roots, and then he insisted on washing it out again even though that’s the part Jesper wouldn’t have messed up—it was one time, okay, when he forgot about the bleach for four hours because he got into a cleaning mood and his scalp hurt for days—and then, sometimes, he’d just dye each of these newly bleached loc roots a wholly different colour, just because Jesper asked, diligently applying the dye and then wrapping the locs in aluminium foil so the dyes wouldn’t mingle.

So they could be as vivid as possible.

As weird.

Inej’s braid smells warm and subtle and deeply familiar, when Jesper wakes up. It doesn’t even tickle his nose: no broken-off strands peeking out of the plait this far up, on her shoulder, where Jesper’s head has apparently ended up. Right on top of Inej’s thick braid, which is resting on top of one of Kaz’ rare pinstripe suit jackets, much too big for her but she’s rolled up the sleeves to mid-forearm and somehow she makes the jacket look far more fashionable than Kaz ever did—anyway, under that jacket’s a t-shirt, and underneath, Inej’s shoulder. Which Jesper’s been sleeping on. For—

“Time’s it?” he mumbles.

“Hey, Jes.” Inej nuzzles his forehead, and then rests her cheek against his head again: probably because she’s focusing on her phone, which just buzzed.

A text from Ma Ghafa, Jesper can see, though he wasn’t intending to be spying, just distracted by the noise. looks delicious Your papa cooked for us tonight Bring him next year *Your Kaz I mean We miss you.

“I sent her some pictures of dinner,” Inej says. “It was really fancy. Raclette, Nina wanted to try it—sorry you missed it.”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry, I didn’t even forget this time, it’s just—”

“Just feign surprise when the cops are at your door about your boss’ murder.” Inej huffs. “Kaz was livid—not at you, darling—” she turns a little more towards Jesper. To look at him, probably, but he can’t keep lounging on her shoulder like this, has to sit up, and he immediately misses the connection— “and you’re not picking another fight with him about it either—”

“You sent your parents pics of dinner? Can I see?” Jesper asks, because he’s—well, he knew that the fact he failed at concentrating on his work assignment so badly he had to stay over was going to reignite his and Kaz’ cold war about Jesper getting a real job. He knew it. He told himself exactly that, over and over, to try and motivate himself to start fucking working. Now that the ship’s sailed, though—he’s never going to learn from his mistakes anyway, so what’s the point bringing it up?

Better focus on—fuck, Jesper should probably call Da tonight, right? He would have thought of that, if he was as loving as Inej is to her parents, he—

Inej passes over her phone.

The dinner table does look fantastic. They’ve lit candles, and they’re toasting with red wine in fancy black stem glasses, even Matthias—all of them, together, smiling for the camera. Must be taken with a timer, then, to leave no-one out.

Jesper picks the one where even Kaz is laughing, and forwards it to his own phone. He types out a quick Hvng gr8 evenng w/ my friends, lov you Daand sends it.

“It’s not lying,” he defends himself against Inej’s knowing grin.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Your Ma sounded way more enthusiastic about Kaz there than I can remember. If you’re fine talking—they’ve come around, then?”

“The fancy dinner’s definitely helping. Kaz is on a campaign to win their respect. They’re just overprotective, now—Colm’s still disapproving, I take it?”

She’s not even supposed to know—Da was as open and friendly as can be, when he flew over for a visit, and he loved Wy and Inej and everyone but… Kaz. He was polite to Kaz, of course, and it was only in private that he got on Jesper’s case for dropping out of university to hang out with a common criminal, son, is he blackmailing you? I’m just worried. I didn’t raise you to hurt people! Whatever the problem is, we can solve it, I can help you!And anyway, Jesper’s been telling Da that if anything, Kaz is slumming it with him and not vice versa, every time he calls. He tells Da how amazing Kaz is, how great they all are, all the time. It’s not like he has that much else to tell: Da doesn’t even know about the new job yet. Jesper’s not getting his poor Da’s hopes up prematurely. It’s only been two months, who knows how much longer he’ll get to stay employed.

“He’s going to come around, Jes,” Inej promises.

“He’ll have to. He’s my Da, but Kaz is my family too. He’s just going to get used to it. That I love Kaz.”

“Either start whispering or tell him to his face.” Inej’s smile is glorious. “Tell him. Just tell him.”

“I do tell him, whenever he pretends that Kaz is a bad influence—”

“Not what I meant, Jes, and you know it.”

He does.

Soon.

He’ll do it. Just a few more shifts, a few less fuckups, a few more successes at impersonating a functional adult human being. Jesper’s not going to measure up to Inej, or Kaz, ever, but he’ll—prove that he’s trying.

He swings his legs off the sofa and searches for his house shoes, and then he gets to work clearing off the table, to clear his mind. Kaz is annoyingly pernickety about how the dishwasher is to be loaded, to the point he picked three actual fights with Jesper over apparently endangering his crockery by putting the wrong things together, but Jesper’s done it often enough now that he could clean up their kitchen while sleepwalking.

Which he might as well be.

He didn’t even notice Kaz come in.

“From Sleeping Beauty to Cinderella sweeping the kitchen,” Kaz rasps. “I hope you’re not planning to play Little Mermaid tonight, too—I drive a hard bargain. You’ll lose more than your voice.”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I didn’t mean to—I just showed up and got wasted, sorry.”

Kaz shrugs. “You had four cocktails, and the drinks you mix have never been particularly lethal. Your tolerance is off. If you’d eaten anything today… Wylan’s told me you haven’t been sleeping much recently, either.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“At least I’m working on it. I even go to therapy sometimes, now. It’s not healthy for you to sleep less than four hours a night for months. It’s not making anything easier, either; it’s impeding concentration, and you knowit.”

Jesper pretend-yawns. “Is this the ‘Delayed Sleep Phase Disorder is comorbid with ADHD’ lecture, again?”

“You don’t have to crash before admitting it’s not working—”

“I’m doing fine, asshole—”

“Wylan’s worried—”

“Don’t bring my boyfriend into your guilt trips—”

“He’s getting audiobooks and voice-to-text for exams, and I know you’re happy for him. I know you believe he deserves all the accommodations he needs. Hypocrite,” but Kaz isn’t spitting his words. His smile is rueful. It just makes his words sting worse. “Just admit that you’re refusing my help because you’re terrified you’ll still fail because a failure’s just who you are as a person, only then you won’t even have the excuse that you could have done it, ‘if only…’”

“Wow. Thanks. I love you too.”

“For the record, you’re a fucking idiot.” Kaz taps out a rhythm with his cane that Jesper doesn’t recognize. He’s looking at the open dishwasher, fully loaded, searching for mistakes, imperfections. “When they fire you for any reason—like, for example, misreading instructions, not doing unpaid overtime, or forgetting one morning to put part of your face in the piercing tin—I have blackmail material on someone in every company in this city, and a few international ones. If I don’t, I can get it. You can get any job. You can make any mistake. You have infinite chances, Jes. Take them.”

“Boss, I…”

“You heard me.”

Kaz is fucking serious. Infinite chances. Not that there was ever that much room to doubt his months of pestering about fidgets, diagnosis, accommodations—except that somehow, Jesper managed to find that room for doubt because he’s a genius that way—but this is… Infinite chances. This is a far fucking cry from Don’t quit, Jes, do you think anyone else will be as lenient as I have been, from Just pay attention for once you asshole,from The only reason I believe you is that you’re too stupid to pull off treason. Kaz is serious. Kaz is apologising. And Jesper wasn’t even mad about any of it, that’s not why he quit or why he’s been fighting with Kaz for two months, it’s…

Infinite.

Chances.

Fuck.

That’s…

“Just think about it, Jes.”

“Are you sure it’s not going to cost my legs, Ursula?”

“Think about it. I know it’s not your strength, but try. I don’t need an answer tonight. Just remember that I will not accept any of your excuses, not even that you didn’t hear me because you’re basically sleepwalking through New Year’s Eve.”

Oh. Right. Jesper just woke up. The party’s almost over. “Did I miss anything?”

“I won Werewolf, again. Not the one you hassled Matthias about, the one you apparently still think is a furry sex game despite the fact that half our polycule has been going over to Nina’s flat weekly to pretend they’re environmentalist werewolves…”

“I called him a furry again?”

“You turned him down for being a furry. He whined about it to Nina for fifteen minutes. He flushed puce when I told him you’re out of his league because you’re too classy for the omegaverse.” Kaz smirks. “Never stop, Jesper.”

They’ve picked a good spot for watching the midnight fireworks. It’s not too far from Kaz’ flat, and pretty high up. No lift, which would have been ideal for Kaz’ legs, but they probably shouldn’t be using anyway, since lifts contain cameras and this is trespassing. They just walked up the ramps, though, up the four decks to the supermarket parking garage roof. There’s a thrill in taking to the roads as a pedestrian, whether it’s breaking into a garage to watch fireworks or whether it’s on a march Jesper only really went on because Inej organized it and because she said that on the previous one she almost got hit by a mounted pig galloping towards her—anyway, it’s fun, walking through the deserted parking garage. They’re all dressed in black or nearly so, in Jesper’s case: perfect trespassing attire.

The lights are out, it smells like petrol and piss, and it’s—fuck, it’s hopefully not enough to get him fired if they all get caught. That would be just like Kaz, engineering the most humiliating way to get Jesper fired, just to prove he can get him rehired via blackmail—but he’s not going to make Inej collateral damage just because he thinks Jesper’s new job is stupid. It’s just paranoia. Guilt. It’s not Kaz’s fault that they haven’t really talked in two months. Jesper should have made time. He could have.

Besides, Kaz didn’t even choose the location. Inej did, and once they’re on the roofless top deck, Jesper walks up behind her, deliberately noisy, and gives her a hug. “Stunning,” he whispers into her ear.

She laughs, and leans back into him. “Finally worked up the courage?”

“Hey, I was talking about the view. Of the sky. Clean lines of sight in every direction, and it’s barely foggy, so we’ll see as much of the fireworks as possible. Good choice.”

“Except she forbade van Eck from making rockets,” Kuwei grouses as he walks past them, a black shape growing less visible against the night sky the further he gets. “The police aren’t chasing after people with fireworks. They’re too stupid to notice home-made rockets. This is New Year’s eve. It should have rocket time. This is boring”

Jesper’s not particularly into just being a spectator, either. Well. If he’d said that out loud, he’d get mocked, and deservedly so, but… exhibitionism, voyeurism, yeah, that’s great. It’s not at all like just watching fireworks. The fireworks don’t even know he’s there. That’s the thing. It’s like—quantum shit, when he’s getting off and he knows Wy’s watching, the act of observation changes everything, but it needs—an awareness of being observed. A connection.

Those fireworks don’t give a shit about Jesper.

They don’t even know he’s there.

It wouldn’t be fun for Inej, though, setting off rockets and firecrackers and wheels and whatever pyrotechnics Wy could devise with whatever he could borrow from his uni chem lab—and Matthias isn’t keen on fire either, but Inej especially would have hated them just blasting carbon dioxide and particulate matter everywhere, for no reason except that they’ve survived another year.

That for once, they’re thriving.

Wylan loves his classes. Turns out, once he got the accommodations he should always had, he’s a really gifted student. Eat shit, Jan. Jesper’s so fucking proud of him, of the way he lights up when he’s talking about seminars, the fact he joined the amateur student orchestra, too… Kuwei’s still abrasively cool, but that’s just Kuwei. He loves being a stone cold motherfucker. He’s been thawing quite a bit though, with Matthias especially, Wylan’s said, and anyway… he’s almost done with his physics doctorate, so really, if anyone is allowed to think they’re the coolest man on earth, it’s Kuwei. Nina and Matthias are discussing children. They’re stable enough in their careers that they’re thinking about actual children. Inej’s succeeding in moving the climate advocacy organisation she works for further and further left, and her work gives her hope. Kaz is making great money and hasn’t been arrested once this year. His system of bribes and extortions across the whole law enforcement apparatus is finally paying dividends.

Jesper—well, he’s managed to land a job he fucking hates and he misses his family to death, but that’s life. It’s still more success than he could have claimed to have a year ago.

“I can’t believe this is what life’s like, forever,” he mutters.

Inej passes him a cigarette unbidden, and he bends down to let her light it.

“Just—work. Missing all of you while at work. Getting home, too tired to meet up, because of work. Life’s just. Climate change. Fascism. Work.”

“We can find a way to fix that.”

“I know, ‘ask Kaz’—”

“I meant fascism and climate change, actually,” Inej says. “I’ve told you to tell Kaz you’re in love with him often enough tonight. I’m giving up.”

Rude.

Fair, though.

They look down the plummetous drop to the road below. The full moon is so bright they wouldn’t even need streetlights, nor fireworks. No cars, now that it’s a quarter to midnight. Some families have reclaimed the street, prematurely setting off sparklers and small green glowing twisters. A pig in uniform stumbles towards the parking garage, and Jesper’s stomach drops, but he’s just shouting drunkenly into his phone, You take that back! No, I didn’t mean it like that, babe! I swear’n my moustache! and then he wanders further down the road, pleading and cursing.

At sixty to midnight, Jesper goes to find Wylan. At thirty, he’s watching Kaz take Inej’s hand and whisper something into her ear. At twenty, he tells Matthias, Don’t awoo at the full moon, and then Wylan pulls him into a deep kiss as the rockets start sparkling in the sky.

“Happy New Year. I love you,” Jesper whispers against his mouth when they break away to breathe.

“Happy New Year. To getting better. To new families,” Wylan replies, and then he squeals.

Kuwei’s crept up to him from behind and licked his neck.

“Happy New Year,” Jesper tells him, and jogs over to hug Nina and Matthias and tell them he loves them, before Wylan can, because once Matthias is sandwiched in-between Nina, Wylan and Kuwei, his brain’s going to be far too fried to remember Jesper exists. It’s a struggle already for Nina to disentangle herself from his arms for long enough to squeeze Jesper’s ribcage until he begs for mercy.

Inej pulls him away. She doesn’t give him time for a hug, for well-wishes—for second thoughts and all the reasons why it’s not a good idea right now. She pulls him over to Kaz and then she pushes him, arm around his waist from behind and pressing her cheek against his shoulder, towards—Kaz.

Kaz isn’t surprised, apparently. His gloved hand curls under Jesper’s chin.

He kisses Jesper.

It’s close-mouthed, a firm press of his lips against Jesper’s. His eyes are closed, and Jesper lets his own slide shut, too, in the firm warm embrace in-between Kaz holding his head and Inej having his back, Kaz’ cane on his side pressed against his hip and Inej’s holding onto the bottom end so he’s—caged, surrounded, safer than in any dream.

Kaz breaks off the kiss, and Jesper can barely keep himself from chasing his lips.

He’s not moving far, though—just standing so close that Jesper imagines he can feel the heat seep off Kaz into his own skin, while Inej’s actual solid warm face presses against his shoulder—watching Jesper and letting Jesper watch him, eyes catching on the jewellery piercing Jesper’s face and then back on his lips again, the nose stud, back onto the lips… Jesper could watch Kaz’ dark eyes tracing the contours of his own face forever. Kaz has always seenhim. He’s seen the person Jesper never wanted to be. He’s seen the failure. The struggle. Infinite chances.

“Keep going,” Kuwei interrupts brutally.

Kaz glares. Jesper’s not quite ready to look away from his face. He can feel Inej’s smile on the back of his neck, joyous, unhurried.

“We’re leaving, just in case you didn’t see. I can see you have plans, and I’ve got plans with Wy tonight, so. See you two on game night. Happy New Year, Jesper?”

“Do your plans involve needing a lawyer?” Kaz rasps.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Kuwei finger-guns, and then he jogs over to where Wylan, Matthias and Nina are squatting in a circle around an open backpack. Matthias’, since Kuwei’s still wearing his, and seeing the four of them together—it just drives home that they’re all dressing identically tonight, apparently. Nina’s changed out of her dress into black pants, black hooded puffer jacket, black trainers, and it would be hard to tell her from Matthias now if she wasn’t a head shorter, or from Kuwei, from Wy…

“Hey Kaz, Inej, why is everyone suddenly dressed in black bloc?” Jesper asks.

Kaz elbows him hard. Then he inclines his chin, and Inej pulls at Jesper until he starts walking, in-between her and Kaz, towards the car ramp. Away from the rest of their gang, who are—and Jesper can’t stress this enough—actually definitely dressed in black bloc at just past midnight on New Year’s with no pigs and no fascists in sight.

“You didn’t see anything,” Kaz mutters. “I told Kuwei I wouldn’t pay for his lawyer when he commits unsanctioned arson, but I would have authorized this if he’d just asked.”

“Authorized—arson, Kaz, what’s my boyfriend up to with Kuwei now?”

“Fireworks will ‘accidentally’ burn down Jan van Eck’s street-parked cars tonight.” Kaz smirks. “It’s such a shame a whole family of rats died in his garage some days ago and he moved out his whole fleet so it didn’t get stunk up…”

“You should have told Kuwei where they’re all parked,” Inej says. “I’m not sure they’ll find them all.”

“My boyfriend’s on a romantic excursion to commit property crime. And Nina—”

“We all hate van Eck senior,” says Inej.

“But I’m not invited? I should be the first to burn that shitbag’s cars—after Wy, of course, but last month he interrupted our fucking date and I would have literally strangled him if that restaurant hadn’t called the cops.”

“Which is why you’re going to buy some cigarettes from a petrol station fitted with CCTV by a paranoid lunatic, Jes, and using your debit card for an extra record. Van Eck hates you, and the filth gives you a worse time than anyone else already. I put the number of a very fine lawyer from Red Help into your contacts, and you’re not going out alone until this blows over. I like the idea of burning everything van Eck owns but if Kuwei gets you fired for being arrested then he’ll die. Be smart, Jesper, and I won’t murder Kuwei.”

Fuck. That’s a whole entire speech and Kaz—maybe he planned it in advance, because Jesper’s certainly not happy about—being babysat on the way to buying fags like an idiot, except he’s also sandwiched between Kaz and Inej right now, again, and that’s pretty much his definition of heaven. If they were wearing a couple fewer layers of jackets. But they were—they kissed him, just now, in the parking garage, and that means that fewer layersand sandwiching is definitely within the realm of possibilities tonight. There’s just—

“I didn’t bring my wallet.”

Kaz pulls it out of the inside pocket of his coat.

“I don’t need a debit card to buy a pack.”

“Buy a carton of cigarettes, then, you asshole. Buy a whole carton of Camels and sing that stupid Touch Your Joe Camel song for the next month, I don’t care.”

“I don’t have that much money on my account—”

“Oh, fuck you,” Kaz mutters, and toys with his phone for a few seconds. “You’re not supposed to spend your entire paycheck on gifts to your much richer boyfriend. Here you go.”

“You sure know how to treat a guy on the first date, sweetheart.”

“You’re going to regret being born when I get you home,” Kaz rasps lovingly and full of promise, but Jesper—well, by the time they’ve ambled to the petrol station and back, and up into the flat, and to the massive bed, and Jesper’s undressed and watched Inej undress and Kaz put on a floor-length nightshirt, mumbling his awestruck compliments, he’s—deathly exhausted would be an understatement. As soon as he spreads his body on the mattress, he falls asleep.

Jesper feels everything at once. He’s always been that way, it’s kind of a problem: he wakes up and there’s the hunger, the bladder, sometimes there’s someone else’s crusted semen on his belly if he’s very lucky and—anyway, as soon as he’s awake, it’s time to do everything simultaneously again.

The sounds, at first: The sporadic, hectic clatter. The rustling.

The bright day sun through his eyelids. The thin book braced on his head and the way his head’s pillowed on a toned stomach, turned to the side, nose-tip touching the underboob of the gorgeous—yeah, he knows whose tits he’s next to, not by smell—that would be weird—but because he the fact of exactly where he went to sleep is burnt into his brain. Inej’s reading something needlessly complicated about how society’s awful for finger-quotes fun, naked in bed, while Jesper’s head’s on top of her, and Jesper’s legs—his ass is on the mattress, but his thighs go up and his shins, his feet—they’re elevated, raised up on something that’s definitely not squishy enough to be a duvet because he can feel—fabric over bones, sticking up, a pelvis maybe—which means he’s—fuck, Jesper’s actually touching Kaz’ Brekker’s physical human crotch, and he was asleep. He missed it. Up until now.

There’s only a thin nightshirt between Jesper’s lower calf and Kaz’ plump warm dick. Which Jesper could perhaps wake up even more, if he starts—

“Stop wriggling, Jesper,” Kaz rasps.

Kaz’ hair’s a total dog’s dinner. It looks like when he’s run his fingers through it five hundred times too often or, more likely, the way it does when he hasn’t washed and gelled it yet. Kaz also sports some adorably patchy stubble. He’s wedged several pillows under his upper back and neck, so he’s almost sitting upright, and he’s staring at the laptop on his stomach. He’s typing furiously, and the old keyboard clatters.

“Any news?” asks Inej, her breathing buoying Jesper’s head up and down. She’s laying the wrong way round on the bed, apparently, her toes touching the edge of her pillow.

“They just updated the casefile. The MO’s similar to a previous string of arson cases, so—”

Arson. Kaz hacking the local police again. This is— “This about the old asshole’s cars?”

“Three of them are completely wrecked, two in need of repair, plus eleven more cars by other rich idiots to muddy the waters. Kuwei’s exceeded my expectations. Never tell him that.”

“This is what you do, though. It’s your love language.” Jesper stretches lazily, careful not to move his legs so much they dishevel Kaz’ clothes. “Sticking your nose in everyone’s business to so you can fuck up our enemies. Kuwei’s smart. He knows.”

“Smarter than you,” Kaz grumbles.

“Rude.”

“Do the cops have a lead yet?” asks Inej.

“Kuwei’s arsons all have the same MO, unfortunately. They know it’s a spree. As for the culprit—well, far left extremism obviously, but—oh. They’re serious.”

“About?”

“’Climate Justice Movement resurgence in the area, increasing radicalization, hatred of SUVs’—you may want to be careful, Inej. They’re after you.”

“They always are. Burning insured cars achieves nothing except more CO2 and a boost to the economy, everyone knows that. Apart from Kuwei Yul Bo, apparently, but he’s more concerned with annoying Jan van Eck than saving the planet, so…”

Jesper checks his phone while they talk. It was just laying there, in the gap between Inej’s hip and Kaz’ belly. Four p.m., already, and he’s got a voice message from Wy—Tell me again why you had to hide from him for months, babe? Love you, see you tomorrow, Kuwei that’s sulphuric acid don’t you dare touch—and above that, a picture he didn’t send or take. It’s Jesper, fast asleep, clinging to Inej. She’s applying neon green eyeshadow to his cheek, a heart-shape, and—sure enough, when Jesper touches his cheek, his fingertips come away shimmering green. Which means—

Jesper goes to his home screen, and curses. Kaz deleted all his apps with in-game purchases, again. He set the background to bright red text reading, PAY TO PLAY IS A SCAM TRUST ME I’M A SCAMMER.

Fucking mother hen asshole.

“Be grateful I didn’t toss it out the window,” Kaz rasps. “Did you really have to set a different atrocious earworm for every single one of the nine alarms you slept through?”

The worst thing is there’s no point in changing the phone from from thumbprint unlock to a password, because Kaz would just wake him up and torture him until he gave it up. Because he’s the worst person in the entire world, and inexplicably, Jesper’s in love with him.

Inexplicably—

“Kaz made you breakfast, by the way,” Inej says, stroking Jesper’s cheek. “Seven hours ago. It’s cold, now, but—”

“Yes.” Jesper was too distracted to be hungry, but now that she mentions it—now that he knows that Kaz cooked for him—made him breakfast in bed—he—

“Keep my place, will you?” Inej dumps her open book, face-down, on Jesper’s belly. He cranes his neck to—oh, for once, she isn’t reading impenetrable nerd shit. How Nonviolence Protects the State sounds actually interesting. She’ll definitely want to talk about it, and Jesper’s got a whole day to listen. Well. Half a day. It’s better than thinking about—fuck, Kaz made him breakfast in bed and he just missed it—because he was too tired—because his work alarm always wakes him when he’s just fallen asleep—because he’s never managed to lose consciousness as quickly as he should no matter how hard he tries, almost like his sleep phases are delayed—and his boss still expects him to come to the office to sit alone at eight in the morning when he could do the same thing, much better, after noon—and it’s the only job he could get with his resumé and his face, but maybe, if he just asks—

“Fuck, I hate my job,” he groans.

Kaz beams.

Inej feeds Jesper a peeled piece of clementine, and then another, and a soggy cold piece of French toast. She lets him suck the syrup off her fingers, while Kaz watches.

for @feelinglikecleopatra

#kaz x inej x jesper #kaz x jesper #six of crows #shadow & bone #dimtraces makes things

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wy-van-sunshine · 3 years ago

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wesper fanfic!

Author’s note: I have read so many fanfics in which Wylan feels different from Jesper’s world and lifestyle, somehow out of place and he’s sad about it, but since I always want to see things from other perspectives I want to write something in which Jesper is the one feeling “wrong” for the way Wylan lives his life. I really hope you’ll like this!

The stage lights shone on the beautiful flautist’s red hair, enlightening his silver flute and isolating him in the only spot of warm light in the entire theatre: the music he played was so full of harmony and peace, it was as if Wylan existed in a parallel world made of his own music and emotions.

The public was lucky enough to be allowed to observe that world from the outside, taking part in it through the celestial notes that Wylan played in the most natural way, almost as if they were an extension of his soul.

Jesper was in a private place, hidden from the rest of the people but from where he could have the best view of his boyfriend: he often mocked him about his “graceful serenades”, but whenever he played on stage he couldn’t help but admire the unique talent the merchling had and fall in love with that music not so many months ago he didn’t even care about.

Jesper smiled. In any other occasion he would have called himself an idiot for that, but now he really couldn’t do anything else but keep that peaceful expression on his face, his chin resting on his hand as he stared at Wylan on stage, his gaze filled with love and admiration.

The magic lasted forever, but it was also so brief: before anyone wanted him to, Wylan played the last notes and he finally smiled, looking at the point where he knew Jesper was and bowing to the whole public who was applauding and cheering him hard.

Every time the redhead had a concert, the night was so difficult to end: he exited the theatre and almost everyone was waiting him there to see and talk to him. Wylan was so grateful for that, but at the same time he always met Jesper’s eyes among all people and some parts of him wanted nothing but run to him and hug him. However, he was a polite musician and he always stopped to talk with his public.

Jesper looked at Wylan’s blue, shiny eyes with pride: he was so happy everytime after a concert and the sharpshooter would have paid a million kruge to see that expression on him every second of his life.

“Hey there, boy!” Jesper turned his head to his left and saw a middle aged couple “You are the flautist’s boyfriend, am I right?” asked the man.

“Yes, yes I am” he answered smiling “Did you enjoy the concert? I don’t know much about this world, but I really think he’s the best out there”

The woman nodded “His music sounds so graceful! I bet he’d play some parts of Tchaikovski’s pieces like no one ever has”

“You’re right, my dear! And what about the concerts by Mozart? He would enchant the public! What do you think, boy?”

“Jesper, you can call me Jesper” said the Zemeni, then smiled, a little embarassed “I... actually, as I said before I really don’t know much about this musical world, but... well, I think Wylan would be amazing in any occasion...?”

Jesper couldn’t quite decipher the gaze the couple exchanged: they looked... disappointed in his answer, but what could he do about it? He had just been honest. Luckily, Wylan finally came and he didn’t have to think about it anymore.

“Jes!” Wylan called with a huge smile on his lips, throwing his arms around his waist. The sharpshooter released a breath and hugged him back “You were a Saint up there” he said.

The redhead hugged him harder, but then he felt a hand tap his shoulder and he turned his head, meeting the old man’s gaze. He smiled politely “Good evening, sir!”

The couple started talking with Wylan about the same topic they tried to discuss with Jesper, but this time they found someone who understood everything they said and the chat became more and more interesting to Wylan, more and more uncomfortable to Jesper.

He was there, trying to follow the conversation, but he got lost among weird composer’s names and numbers of concerts and operas. He could see how Wylan was loving all of that and how he was feeling comfortable, and suddenly he felt wrong.

Music was one of Wylan’s greatest passions and what did he know about it? Bach and Mozart were names he had only heard, “Cage” was a place to be imprisoned in, “Chopin” was a funny word similar to what you did when you went to the mall. He knew absolutely nothing about it. He knew nothing about one of the most important things to his boyfriend.

After minutes which felt like eras for Jesper, Wylan took leave of the couple and grabbed Jesper’s hand, smiling as usual “Shall we go home?”

Jesper tried to smile back, but he couldn’t. He just nodded and started walking. Their way back home was not long, but it passed in silence, Wylan thinking about the night and Jesper about how everything about himself felt wrong. Sometimes Wylan looked over the sharpshooter: he was silent and that was something to worry about, but he had no idea about what was going on in his head and he said nothing until they arrived home.

Without a word, Jesper placed a kiss on Wylan’s head and immediately reached for their bedroom, throwing himself on the bed and staring at the ceiling, his head almost in pain for his thoughts.

About fifteen minutes later, the merchling entered the room with a smoking cup in his hand, reached the bed and sit next to Jesper’s body, looking at him. He knew he was sad or worried about something: those were the only - rare - occasions in which the Zemeni didn’t speak, even though Wylan was sure his head was screaming. Anyways, he knew in those occasions Jesper loved to dissolve his thoughts in a cup of hot cocoa, so that was exactly what he had prepared for him as soon as they got home.

“Hey there” he said softly, placing a hand on Jesper’s shoulder “Take this”

The sharpshooter gave him a weak smile and took the cup in his hand: he sit against the wall in order to be able to drink it better. Still, he didn’t say a word.

“What’s wrong?” Wylan asked, now a little worried. Usually after the first sip of cocoa the sharpshooter started talking, but now he was silent and the redhead was silently panicking. Had he done something wrong? It wouldn’t be the first time, after all he was not perfect, in fact he was the exact opposite of perfection.

“Ioneserveu”

Wylan didn’t understand what Jesper said as he murmured with such low voice, his eyes fixed on the cocoa.

“What? What is it?”

The sharpshooter released a long breath and he finally looked up at his boyfriend: meeting his beautiful blue eyes made him feel even worse.

“I don’t deserve you” he said with a painful smile.

Wylan felt a shot straight to his heart: the gray eyes that were looking at him were a storm, they were troubled, they were honest.

“What the fuck are you saying, Jesper?”

“There, I got you saying the f-word”

“Stop joking. What does I don’t deserve you mean?”

“It’s a very simple Kerch sentence. I don’t feel like I’m enough for you and I don’t think I actually am”

Wylan took Jesper’s hand in his and talked with broken voice “But why? We’ve been together for almost a year now, Jes. Where is this coming from?”

Jesper huffed, he was not comfortable with that talk. He wanted to tell Wylan how he was feeling, but he wasn’t good at dealing with emotions; moreover, what if his boyfriend hadn’t noticed his differences yet? What if he was the one to point them out to him and ruin their relationship forever?

“I feel like I’m wasting your time here. These months were amazing for me, but for you? Tonight I saw how your eyes shine when you talk about music and all those composers, and I see that same joy when you explain to me your impossible equations or the way you build bombs, and I smile and I nod because I know how much that stuff means to you, but I don’t understand anything and- how long can this last? How long before you get tired of-”

Jesper suddenly stopped: he couldn’t finish the sentence. If he said that last word out loud, the whole feeling would become real and he really didn’t want to burst into tears in front of Wylan.

...me? How long before you get tired of me?

The sharpshooter found himself in a whole new situation: in seventeen years of life he never once thought anybody could get tired of him, he did his best to be as energetic as possible and people loved being around him. But Wylan was no ordinary boy: he was so special and he didn’t deserve someone as ordinary as Jesper felt.

He stared at his merchling, looking for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear: but Wylan was smiling softly at him, not a sign of concern on his pale face. He got nearer to the sharpshooter and he kissed him, slowly dragging his body down with his. They were now laying next to each other, Wylan had for the first time ever Jesper’s head resting on his chest - it was always the opposite as their heights were clearly different.

After kissing Jesper on his head, Wylan spoke in a whisper “Are you happy with me, Jes?”

The sharpshooter was enjoing being cuddled by his boyfriend, he had calmed down a little, but he still felt like he didn’t deserve all those attentions.

“Yes Wy, I am happy. I am so happy. And because of that I’m afraid I’ll screw everything up”

“You want to know why I fell in love with you in the first place?”

Jesper grinned “Not if then you’re going to dump me because I’ve ruined everything”

Wylan gently slapped him on the neck “I would never want to be without you, you idiot”

“Fine then” Jesper allowed, his heart beating faster for what his boyfriend just said.

Before talking, Wylan started caressing Jesper’s dark hair “I have built bombs and explosives in my life, Jesper. And I know a lot of things about chemistry. When I met you, I felt like everything I knew about explosions was nothing compared to you. You are a living bomb, and I’m saying it with a positive meaning: you are like a constant explosion of energy, you don’t just burst once, you keep on doing it and that is the exact energy I didn’t know I needed in my life. You have no scientific explanation and I love it”

Jesper breathed heavily and Wylan thought the was holding back tears: he took his chin in his hand and he lifted his head, looking into his eyes just to find out they were actually wet. The redhead smiled at him.

“I don’t care if you don’t know things about music or maths or anything else, one boring nerd is enough in a coulple, don’t you think?”

Jesper laughed “You’re my favourite nerd, you know”

“I should hope so! Anyways, I asked you whether you’re happy with me and there’s a reason for that: when we got togther, I had the same worries about myself. You were a charming, extroverted thief and I didn’t feel like I could fit in your world. But then one day you hugged me and I thought I feel like I fit in these arms. I understood I was happy with you, and to me that was enough. If you’re happy with me as well, then we don’t have to worry about anything else”

“Saints, you really are a poet, Van Sunshine” said Jesper with a grin, but before Wylan could reply he reached for his lips and he kissed him for long, silently thanking him for everything he said, for everything he gave him not just in that moment, but every day since they met.

Maybe their worlds were different, but while kissing and hugging and looking for more, Wylan and Jesper couldn’t help but notice how perfect they were for each other: their lips matched, their hands coincided perfectly, their bodies completed each other.

They were happy together and they loved each other.

And yes, that was far more than enough.

#wesper #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #wylan x jesper #six of crows #wesper fanfic

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nautiscarader · 3 years ago

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Nautiscader's Wendip Week 2021 - Day 2, say something

Melody asks Wendy and Dipper a favour. Will they prove her right in choosing them?

(Ao3)

===========

- Okay, here's the baby formula, here are the spare clothes, here's his favourite toy. - Agu. - It's called Agu. - Melody continued - At least this week it is, I think. He cannot talk yet.

Melody smiled and dragged her finger across her son's belly, causing him to giggle.

- Now, don't take this the wrong way, guys - Melody addressed her babysitters - I would usually ask Mabel and Pacifica, but since they are out of town, you are kinda my last hope. Are you sure you can do that?

Wendy Corduroy and Dipper Pines exchanged confident looks and nodded, giving Melody wide smiles.

- Don't worry, Melody, Shaun will be fine. - Wendy replied with a warm smile and took the chubby boy into her arms. - Yeah, I’ve helped Mabel babysitting, and Wendy obviously has tons of experience. - Dipper reassured her.

Melody gave each of them one last look, as if she was making final decision of which shirt to buy and returned the smile they gave her.

- Alright. We should be back by 7.

She leaned and gave her son one last hug.

- You won't cause too much trouble with Wendy and Dipper, will you, Shaun?

The baby waved his arms and replied and answer only he could understand. Melody jumped in place when she hear the car horn outside.

- Okay, take care of him! Call me if something happens!

And with that, she stormed out of Mystery Shack, leaving the two teenagers with a gruelling task.

- He does look like them, doesn't he? - That's how babies work, dork. - Wendy joked back - But yeah, he sure is Melody and Soos' son.

Shaun reached for his rattle and brought it to his mouth, prompting a fast reaction from both of them.

- No, that's not food. It's not plastic enough for food nowadays. - Wendy spoke, pushing the rattle away, much to Shaun's sadness. - Here, take this. - Dipper handed him a bottle of milk. - You-you know how to use it, right?

And Shaun answered that by chomping his baby lips around the rubber, eagerly sucking the milk.

- I think we make a pretty good team. - Wendy said, and the two high-fived each other and leaned on the counter. - Yeah, Mabel told me all about those times she had to make sure the baby is fine, as if it could spontaneously disappear or combust.

The two burst into laughter, and turned around to check on the baby, their voices silenced in an instant.

- Where is he?! - Dipper yelled - He-he was there! - Wendy pointed to the Shaun-less counter, still with all of his toys and empty bottle of milk.

The two began frantically looking around, first to the floor, then to the doors and windows, and to their rising horror, Shaun was nowhere to be found.

Wendy grabbed a rattle and using it as a lure shook it to catch Shaun's attention, but up to no avail.

- Okay, how fast can babies crawl? - Dipper asked, opening one by one each barrel full of toys sold at the Shack.

In his mind, he tried his best to estimate where on Earth could Shaun disappear, and whether they should alert everyone in ten-mile radius.

But fortunately for them, one single "ding" solved their problem.

Wendy and Dipper turned their head towards the vending machine and saw baby Shaun standing in the elevator, though they only caught a glimpse of him when the door closed.

- No! - they both shouted and ran towards the shaft, but not until it closed completely. - How-How did he open the door? - Er, I'm gonna assume that "Tehees", "Doggy-dogs" and "NGC 7619 Galaxies" are his parents' favourite snacks? Cos that's what the combination matches...

Dipper furiously retyped the code and paced in place, waiting for elevator to come back up, hoping Shaun would still be there. But if the previous minutes have taught him anything is that children are far less predictable than he thought.

Dipper and Wendy stormed into the empty elevator and began riding down, dreading what could have happened with Shaun.

- Please tell me that Ford locked his lab... - Wendy spoke, after hiding her face in her hands. - Well, he usually does.

The elevator door opened, and their hearts sank again. This time he didn't. The two rushed into the underground lab, truly unsure what they could find inside. In front of them were vast rows of tables and bookcases, each containing, as they supposed, one of Ford's new experiments...

The two split up on both sides of the aisle, checking each and every box, crate and anything vaguely dangerous Shaun could have crawled into.

- Uh! Come on, where are you? - Dipper barked, unable to locate him. - I thought you've said that you've helped Mabel deal with kids! - Well... - Dipper's voice lowered down - Like, once. But what about you? I thought you knew how to handle babies! - I did not sign up for babies crawling into labs, dude! she barked back - You have three brothers! - Dipper exclaimed - Didn't they do stupid stuff? - YEAH, BUT MY MOM WAS ALWAYS THERE! - Wendy exploded and hid her face in her hands.

Any response Dipper had was stuck in his throat, as he watched her wipe away her tears she exploded into.

- Wendy... I'm- - She's always been there. - she continued - Like, I helped and stuff, especially with little Gus, but she still did the most... And Dad's always been there too, so... I wasn't that useful, really...

Her voice cracked, as she spoke, unable to meet her friend's eyes.

- But then you called and... and I knew you needed help as well, so I knew what to do...

Dipper shied away and reached his hand to console her.

- Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done it. But we must find Shaun. - You're right. - she sniffed. - Agu!

At the sound of his voice, Dipper and Wendy jolted in place, frantically looking around, unable to locate the sound of the voice.

- Shaun?! Shaun! - Wendy shouted, getting familiar babbling in response. - Uh, W-Wendy...

Dipper tapped her shoulder, and pointed to the far-away end of the lab. Wendy gasped when she saw Shaun crawling on the top of flimsy-looking stack of books, reaching his hands to grab a model of a space-ship, dangling from the ceiling.

At the same time, Dipper and Wendy did the same thing. They've launched themselves, just as the stack of books lost all integrity, and baby Shaun fell.

Shaun was about to hit the other Shelf, but a pillow thrown by Dipper bounced him to the other side - evidently, it wasn't just filled with feathers.

Shaun fell into a box that Wendy caught, but as she looked inside - he wasn't there, and leapt from a second one, right next to her.

As she somersaulted through the air, Dipper tried catching him with a long net... and only succeeded by making him fly for another two minutes, as he wss now sporting wings.

Wings, which he lost when he passed through what looked like a UV light, but not before tearing the net apart.

But as he was about to slam into the ground, four arms reached out, grabbing him safely.

For an agonisingly long while, piercing silence fell, as Dipper and Wendy awaited some response from Shaun.

The baby looked at them, wearing the same baffled look, though without the dash of horror Wendy and Dipper sported.

- Shaun? Shaun! - Wendy gently took him in her arms. - Ugh, I wish he could say something! Hasn't Ford made a baby translator, or something? - Dida!

The two turned on the spot and watched as little Shaun babbled and pointed towards Dipper.

- Wait, what did you say? - Di-da! Di-da! - Shaun repeated eagerly - I think he means "Dipper"... - Wendy smiled, shedding another tear. - You think so, Wendy? - We-wy! We-wy!

Wendy gasped, and put her hands over mouth.

- That's-that's how Gus used to call me too...

She took him once more in her arms and giggled with him, hoping to get another rendition of her name. But the baby babbled "Agu" again, pointing to the spaceship model.

- Yeah, alright, have another Agu.

Dipper reached and, after checking if it didn't have any sharp edges, gave the flying saucer to Shaun.

- Let's get you back up... - Wendy, listen, I'm- - I know, dude. - Wendy cut him off - I didn't take it seriously enough as well..

With his new toy in his stubby arms, Shaun babbled in Wendy's arms, as the three got back in the elevator and rode up.

=======

- Okay, should give two burps now.

Wendy read the instructions, watching as Dipper held Shaun in his arms. He gently tapped his back, and to his amusement, received two small burps.

- Hey, it worked! - At least that's comforting...

The doorbell rang again, this time welcoming Melody back, as the businesswoman rushed back to see her baby back. Warm smile appeared on her face when she saw Shaun in Dipper's arms and she walked to take him back.

- Oh, Shaun, I've missed you so much... - L-Look, Melody!

Wendy and Dipper grabbed the little Shaun and proudly lifted him towards her, as if she has never seen her own child.

- Di-da! We-Wy! - He-he talks now! - Dipper exclaimed - A bit.

Melody's eyes brightened and shone with tears, as she took her son back into her arms.

- Oh, I'm so proud of you! Wait until your dad hears about it. - she gave Wendy and Dipper warm smile - You two have done really good job.

At the same time, Dipper and Wendy shared nervous looks, and as they both felt something churning in their stomach, they decided to come clear.

- Melody, look... the thing is... - We didn't. We turned our backs for a second, and... he just disappeared. - And he got into Ford's lab, and... - And all the hell broke loose! - We... we failed you.

Dipper and Wendy awaited Melody's reaction, watching as she listened to their confession.

- Yeah, but that's what usually happens. Did he activate the copying machine again? - No, but- - Wait, what?

Melody smiled.

- Yeah, Mabel and Paz didn't have much luck with him as well. - she giggled. - You had to see their faces when there were fifteen of Shauns to take care of! One was only in black-and-white, it ran out of colour. It's a good thing those copies are destroyed when wet... Quite easy for babies, if you know what I mean.

Dipper and Wendy listened to her surprisingly nonchalant speech, as she continued to toy with her son's belly.

- Well, I guess you've got a test for when you'll be parents.

The two teenagers looked at each other, both sporting a deeply crimson blush on their faces, as they both rushed to deny any such possibility for a long time.

- Want to do something else and never talk about that? - Agree.

And the two jumped onto the sofa, ready to watch a movie in complete silence for once.

#wendipweek #wendip week #wendip #wendy corduroy #dipper pines #gravity falls #nautiscaraderfics

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thelastspeecher · 4 years ago

Text

Best Revenge AU - Closure?

I have to go to work soon, so quick summary: angst. Complicated emotions and relationships. Max revealing that he’s not as much as a dick as he seemed. Enjoy.

——————————————————————————————

Max waited patiently in the back of the classroom for the kindergarten teacher to introduce him. One of his favorite things about being a hero was coming to school classes to tell them about what he did. And kindergarteners were always the best audiences. Their wide-eyed enthusiasm was infectious.

“All right, kids, today, we have a special guest!” the teacher said cheerfully. “So, everyone go to the back and sit on the rug!” The kindergarteners obediently got up from their chairs and went to the back of the room, where they sat on the rug in front of Max. One child raised her hand. “Yes, Lisa?”

“Who’s the guest?” she asked.

“We are very lucky today! Our guest is the famous hero, Richter!” the teacher said happily. Like always, the children clapped and cheered. Except for one. A small boy sitting at the front. The boy frowned at Max.

“Ew,” he said, crossing his arms. The teacher frowned, visibly confused. “Hewoes-oes awe icky.” Max opened and closed his mouth a few times. The boy had a heavy lisp and stutter, but as someone who’d had a speech impediment when he was young, Max had no difficulty understanding the child.

“What makes you say that?” he finally asked. The boy wrinkled his large nose.

“Hewoes-woes-woes awe n-n-n-no good,” he said firmly.

“Junior,” the teacher warned. “Be polite.” The boy – Junior – stuck out his tongue.

“N-n-no! They awe smewy!” he insisted. “They don’t-don’t n-need powite man-n-n-news.”

“Stanley Pines Junior, if you don’t stop being disruptive, I’m going to talk to your parents,” the teacher said. Max’s blood ran cold.

Of course. Junior’s nose was unmistakably the one that ran in the McGucket family, while his stutter was the same Angie had until she was six. This must be the child she was pregnant with the last time I saw her. Junior smirked.

“Okay,” he said. He looked directly at Max. “You awe bad and stin-in-in-inky.” The teacher opened her mouth.

“It’s okay,” Max said quickly. He smiled at the teacher. “I can handle a heckler.” He straightened. “So, do you kids want to know what it’s like to be a hero?”

-----

Other than his ex-wife and archenemy’s son heckling him at the beginning, Max’s presentation went well. Afterwards, while parents were coming by to pick up their kids, the teacher pulled Max to the side.

“I’m sorry about Junior being disruptive,” she said. “He’s normally the most well-behaved student I’ve ever had! I have no idea what came over him.”

“It’s okay,” Max said. He forced a small smile. “Variety is the spice of life, you know?”

“Still…”

“Trust me, I’ve dealt with much worse,” Max said. The teacher sighed, but before she could continue apologizing, a parent called her over. Left to his own devices, Max did his best to watch Junior without seeming obvious. During his presentation, he’d felt a growing discomfort about the boy. Clearly, Junior was too old to be the child Angie was pregnant with when he’d seen her four years ago. In fact, he looked to be about six years old, which would mean Angie got pregnant immediately after leaving Max.

Or that she was pregnant when she left. Junior had Angie’s large nose and gentle face, but all his other traits were ones Max recognized. He saw those big ears, amber eyes, and straw-like hair in the mirror every day. The final nail in the coffin, however, was that Junior had the same lisp Max had struggled with until second grade.

No… Max quickly looked away from Junior, trying to convince himself he was imagining things. No. Angie wouldn’t do that to ya. She wouldn’t have yer child and not tell ya. Right?

“Richter?” Max looked over. The teacher had come back with a man and Junior in tow. The man, someone Max hated with every fiber of his being, smirked. “This is Stanley Pines, Junior’s father. I told him about Junior’s behavior.”

“Yes,” Stan said, nodding. “She did. I’m very surprised Junior was so rude in class.”

“It’s fine,” Max said. “Children don’t really have a filter.” He cleared his throat. “Still, that sort of language is concerning. I’d hate for him to grow up to become a villain.”

“Oh, yeah,” Stan said in a clearly exaggerated tone. “Yeah, that’d be awful.” He looked down at Junior. “Wouldn’t it, Junior?” Junior nodded sulkily. “What do you have to say to Mr. Richter?”

“I’m sow-w-wy,” Junior muttered. Max smiled.

“And I accept your apology.”

“Thanks for being so understanding,” Stan said. “C’mon, Junior, your sisters are waiting at home.” Stan flashed another grin at Max. “Good luck keeping the streets clean.”

“Thank you,” Max said, continuing to smile. The second Stan, Junior, and the teacher turned away, he dropped the smile. Seeing Stan and Junior next to each other had confirmed his suspicions. Junior didn’t look anything like the man that was supposedly his father.

I have a son. I have a six-year-old son I didn’t know anything about.

-----

Max walked up to the tan craftsman house that Angie and Stan lived in with their three children. It hadn’t been that difficult to track down where she lived now, given that he had access to HQ’s database. He felt a bit guilty about using the database for something personal, but he couldn’t let this slide. He had to get down to the bottom of this. After taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

“Comin’!” said a voice he recognized. Shortly, the door opened, revealing his ex-wife. Angie’s mouth dropped open in a small “o”. “Max?”

“Angie,” Max said shortly. He blinked. While most of Angie’s appearance hadn’t changed, there was one major difference. “Yer hair’s shorter.”

“I cut it after I left ya,” she replied. “Like I always wanted. I only kept it long fer you.” She frowned. “It was this length when we crossed paths a few years back.”

“Well, I was a bit too distracted by yer obvious pregnancy to notice yer hair,” Max said. Angie sighed.

“What do ya want?”

“To talk to ya ‘bout my son.” A flash of fear crossed Angie’s face, so briefly that Max almost missed it.

“I don’t know anything ‘bout the son ya sired when cheatin’ on me,” she said.

“You know I’m not referrin’ to him. I’m referrin’ to the son what heckled me the other day in his kindergarten class. I’m sure Stan told ya ‘bout the incident.” Angie was silent. “Angie. Don’t drag this out.”

“Fine.” Angie stood to the side. “Come in.” Max stepped inside. “Follow me.” Max followed Angie into a nearby living room. Junior was sitting on the floor playing with building blocks. “Junior?”

“Yes?” Junior asked, looking up. He frowned at Max. “Who-who-who’s that?”

“An old friend,” Angie said after a moment. “Would ya be willin’ to play in yer room? This feller and I have to talk ‘bout boring grown-up things.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you, bean.” On Junior’s way out of the living room, Angie kissed the top of his head, eliciting a giggle from him. “Please, Max, take a seat.” Max sat on the tan couch. He looked around. The room was cozy and warm. A mixture of family pictures and pictures of amphibians decorated the walls.

“Did you take those?” he asked, nodding to the photos.

“Obviously. You know I like usin’ my camera,” Angie said, sitting on the couch, but a slight distance from him. “Yer not here to talk ‘bout my home’s décor, though.”

“No. I’m not.” Max closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. “Why didn’t ya tell me ‘bout Junior?”

“Max.” Max opened his eyes to look at Angie. A weariness had settled over her. One he recognized. “Ya know why I left, right?”

“I…” Max swallowed. “I was too overprotective.”

“You weren’t just overprotective. You tried to control me. Tried to keep me from livin’ the life I wanted. And, when I left, ya tried to physically stop me.” Angie leaned in. “You grabbed me hard enough to leave a bruise.”

“I- I did?”

“Yes.”

“Angie, I never-”

“I know sometimes it can be difficult to control yer own strength. But that’s all the more reason to not get physical with someone when yer in distress. You think Stan ‘n I haven’t had fights? Of course we have. But we don’t make it physical. We know better ‘n that.” Max stared at her in horror. He had read between the lines, and now had an idea of what Angie was dancing around. “What?”

“You didn’t tell me ‘bout my son ‘cause you thought I’d hurt him or you,” he whispered. Angie looked away. “Angie, I would never!”

“Maybe you’ve worked on yourself since we were married. But back then, you would’ve done anything to get me back. To get yer son,” Angie choked out. “Don’t pretend that ya wouldn’t have taken every course ya could. And- and-” Angie let out a sob. Max’s heart broke. “I knew that if ya tried to make me come back, I would have. I would have fooled myself that you had changed. That it was safe fer me and the baby. But I would’ve just been miserable again.”

“I-” Max paused. He thought back to every fight they’d had. They both would shout, she would leave, but then she’d eventually come back and they’d make up without resolving the thing they’d fought over. And Max would ignore her obvious weariness, the same that had come over her at the beginning of this conversation.

“All of our fightin’, too, it- it wasn’t a good place to raise a child,” Angie continued. “Junior’s happy and well-adjusted. If I’d stayed, he wouldn’t be.” Angie looked at Max. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “Yer parents fought. You know how much that messes up children.”

“…Yeah. Yeah, it does.” Max clenched his hands into fists. “But one of our biggest fights was that ya didn’t want a child at that point in time. Ya can’t deny how it looks, fer you to be sayin’ over and over again that ya wanted to wait, only to leave while pregnant.”

“I didn’t know I was pregnant until after I had left. It was too late by then. You know that I could never- never- terminate a pregnancy.”

“But after Junior was born, ya kept him. Yer fam’ly definitely offered to have a cousin or siblin’ take him in.”

“Yes.”

“So why did ya keep a child that ya claimed ya didn’t want?” Max demanded. His voice rose. Angie frowned at him.

“Keep it down,” she hissed. Max took a steadying breath.

“Okay,” he said in a calmer voice. “But the question stands. Ya kept him, despite sayin’ ya didn’t want a child. Why?”

“I told ya I didn’t want a child ‘cause I was worried ‘bout my job. I was. I knew ya would push and push fer me to take as much time off as possible, and I would. Then, you’d push fer me to eventually leave, ‘cause I’d been off work fer so long. I would cave in to that, too. That wasn’t a worry no more after I left.”

“I wouldn’t-” Max started. Angie glared. He fell silent.

“Don’t claim ya wouldn’t. We both know ya would. Without the stress of our marriage weighin’ on me, everything fell into place. I was comfortable and safe and settled and…” Angie softened. “…and I had a lil bean on the way.”

“And Stan knows?”

“You think that poorly of me?” Angie spat. “That I’d claim to a man I was pregnant with his child when I was pregnant with someone else’s?” She got up. Max stood as well.

“Angie, I didn’t mean-”

“No. You did.”

“I’m just surprised he’d raise a child what wasn’t his.”

“He’s a good man, Max.”

“He’s a criminal.”

“That ain’t a dealbreaker to me.”

“It should be!”

“It-” Angie crossed her arms with a huff. “I tried to keep this conversation civil. We both could use some closure. But it’s clear to me that ya haven’t changed enough fer us to have this talk peacefully.”

“We can-”

“You need to leave,” Angie said shortly. Max clenched his hands into fists. Angie’s eyes narrowed. “You have three options. Option one: ya leave on yer own. Option two: I kick yer sorry ass out myself. Option three: Stan kicks ya out.” She checked her watch. “He should be home with the girls any minute now.”

“I-”

“Choose.” Angie’s eyes bore into Max. “Or I’ll choose fer ya.”

“Fine,” Max snapped. “Fine. I’ll leave.” He threw his hands into the air. “It’s not like I had a million more questions to ask ya or anything like that.”

“I can answer ‘em. Some other time,” Angie said firmly. She escorted Max to the front door and opened it. “I want us to both be able to close this chapter. But right now, we can’t without comin’ to blows.” Max stepped outside. “Work on yourself, Max. Then we can finish this conversation.” She closed the door. Max stomped away. His anger ebbed with every step, until, a block away, he felt completely empty. He came to a stop.

What kind of hero am I? My ex-wife was afraid of me. She was worried ‘bout what I would do to her and our child. And she was right to be scared. His shoulders drooped. My first son I had to give up ‘cause I couldn’t take care of him no more. My second son was six ‘fore I found out he even existed. He closed his eyes. I’m no hero. I’m a deadbeat. He looked back in the direction of Angie’s house. Maybe…maybe it’s time fer me to work on myself. Maybe… He put his hands into his pockets and began to walk again. Maybe it’s time fer me to hang up my mask.

#Best Revenge AU #Angie McGucket #Max Hillcrest #Stanley Pines #Stangie Family #ficlet #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks #Junior Pines

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kurowrites · 4 years ago

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Inuyasha au with wangxian? YP dies thinking LWJ betrayed him when coming to give him the stygian iron. Reincarnates in the future with cangse saren as his mum. And then falls into the past and investigates and solves the mystery like canon... only with no kikiyo arc because too sad.

Seriously guys, are you all gluttons for punishment?

Anyway, I’m not sure if this is entirely as hoped for, but:

Wei Ying grows up as a relatively normal, happy child. Only sometimes, he has strange nightmares that wake him up in the middle of the night and that make no sense to him at all. Zombies, blood, death, and endlessly barking dogs. He’s had them ever since he can remember, and though his mother makes a worried face whenever it happens, there’s really nothing that can be done about it.

One day after university classes, a dog barks at WWX on the street, and he ends up running away in a panic. WWX finds himself in a strange, unknown place, an old house slowly falling to pieces. Curious, he wanders around on the premises. In one of the courtyards, he comes across an old, dried out well. And as he peeks into it... something comes out of the well and attacks him. Scared for his life, he tries to fight off whatever this strange creature is, and ends up falling down the well.

Once he finally manages to climb out of it, he finds himself in a world that looks very different from the place he’s just been in before. The dilapitated house is suddenly a beautiful mansion full of people, and everyone is in an uproar. He’s not sure what’s happening, but he hears people saying something about cultivators and supernatural creatures.

He carefully tries to sneak out of the mansion, but the next thing he knows, he is standing face to face with a man all dressed in flowing white robes who looks at him as if he’s the freak here, somehow. He tries to slow-mo out of there, but the man grabs his arm. “Wei Ying,” he says. And WY is like... how the fuck do you know my name???

The man in white looks at him with a strange expression on his face and is like, “You were dead.” And WY is getting really confused here, because he’s definitely been alive for ~25 years now. He doesn’t remember dying.

Wait.

He does remember pain, and screaming, and being very afraid. He remembers blood and death. He remembers feeling anger, and betrayal, and - He wrenches his hand out of the man’s hold. Could it be this man is somehow connected to his recurring nightmares?

Because of the uproar in the mansion, LWJ gets distracted by someone else for a moment, and WY uses the chancce to slip out. He sneaks away, determined to find the quickest way back to where came from.

He doesn’t get very far, though. Shortly after he’s left the mansion, he’s attacked by people who call him a demon and try to kill him with no mercy whatsoever.

The man in white arrives just at the nick of time, and saves him from the attack. And well. WY still doesn’t know if he can trust this man, but he’s also not actively trying to kill him. He guesses he might be safer with him than without.

“How do you know me?” he asks the man who goes by the name Lan Wangji. And LWJ looks at him and says, “We know each other. [strong intimacy implied here]” There’s absolutely no hesitation in his voice. WY’s hair stands up; he’s not sure if this man is the most extreme romantic he’s ever met, or a complete lunatic. Or maybe both.

LWJ brings him back to a place called Cloud Recesses. But no matter where they go, people keep staring at WY as if he’s a two-headed monster. At first, he thinks it’s because he’s dressed very differently from anyone else. But he realises quickly that’s not the case when LWJ dresses him in suitable red-and black robes. It’s his face that makes people stare at him. Which is just plain rude.

The first time someone calls him Wei Wuxian, he’s like... that’s not my name, though. But, he realises quickly, there apparently used to be a person called WWX that wore his very face, and that everybody was terrified of. Extremely terrified, judging from the reaction. The only person that doesn’t seem to be terrified is LWJ. But the way he sometimes looks at WY makes him come to the uncomfortable conclusion that LWJ must have been in love with this WWX, enough to defy his own sect. That makes WY feel... he’s not sure what it makes him feel, or how he’s supposed to think about that. It’s terryifing, somehow.

Before long, other powerful and influential cultivators arrive at Cloud Recesses and demand the extradition of WWX because he’s apparently also a war criminal? But LWJ only frowns severely and beats any opponent into submission simply by sheer stubborn silence.

That’s until Jin Guangyao shows up. He somehow manages to sneak around and corner WY in a desterd corner of Cloud Recesses, far away from LWJ, and before WY knows what’s happening to him, JGY pulls... something out of his chest. JGY’s eyes shine with both madness and desire, and WY immediately knows that whatever this things is that just came out of his body, it can’t get into JGY’s hands. So he fights him for it, as well as he can. In the struggle, he breaks the things into pieces, and the pieces of the broken amulet scatter all over China.

This starts operation “Finding all the pieces of the amulet before JGY can get a hold of them, and also restore WWX’s reputation in the process.” LWJ & WY travel around, while WY learns to use the cultivation powers that have been dormant in him all along apparently, and tries very hard not to fall in love with LWJ, who is still in love with a man that just happens to have the same face as him. It can’t be. And WY will have to return to his own time at some point. Sooner rather than later, really.

Maybe the timelines is also shifted, and the entire thing happens only ~3 years after WWX’s death. LWJ’s wounds are barely healed, and A-Yuan is still small, a child only beginning his own study of cultivation. He still remembers Wei-gege, and gets very attached to WY VERY quickly. WY is faced with the quiet trauma of a still-grieving father and son, and the shadow of a man that’s so much like him and yet so different that he can never hope to stand in the same place that he did. He knows he should stay away from the two. But the way A-Yuan smiles at him, and calls him Wei-gege breaks his heart. And the way LWJ sometimes looks at him, and quietly seeks his physical presence... it would need a stronger man than him to resist that.

#kuro answers #wangxian #mdzs headcanons #anonymous

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dregstrash · 4 years ago

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Knife in the Back (ch. 3)

a/n: Here’s chapter 3 of the collab fic I did with @wafflesandkruge for the @grishaversebigbang. Definitely check out all the art that came with this in the first chapter! Hope you guys enjoy!

AO3 // Chapter 1

Anyone can make a mistake.

That single thought spun in Inej’s mind as she drove back to the station after her brief meeting with Kaz Brekker.

No one was infallible. Human error was always going to be a factor. Even self-proclaimed experts could make the stupidest mistakes. Brekker shouldn’t be an exception. It should have been simple to believe that he had taken off his glove after dumping the girl, and had thrown it away by accident.

If she could manage to believe that, and when Wylan was done analyzing the glove, she could have enough evidence to bring Kaz in with one concrete piece of evidence. It could be enough to prosecute him for this murder, and then tie that back to the unsolved murder from five years ago which she had always suspected he was behind. In one fell swoop, she could bring Kaz Brekker down. But, unfortunately, it wasn’t easy to believe that someone as meticulous as him would ever just take his gloves off at the end of a job, and leave them out in the open.

She’s spent the better part of three years following the murky and unclear path of Kaz Brekker, and if she knew anything about the Bastard of the Barrel it was that he always got the job done, and he always left no trace. Rumors say that he was a sleeper agent from Shu-Han, waiting for the right moment to strike against the Kerch. Others say that he was tied to dozens of murders of high dignitaries and ambassadors, and that if you ever wanted to make someone disappear, he was the best. Inej has spent countless hours pouring over the stories and the hearsays, but nothing could ever point to anything conclusive.

And with this one perfectly wrapped crime scene sitting on her lap, it was hard for her to take it as it was. She pulled up to the police parking lot, and headed straight for the forensics department. Wylan had texted that he had something promising, and Inej was ready to hear about anything that didn’t have a massive question mark attached to it.

“Hey, Inej.” Wylan called from the back of the room as the sliding doors let Inej in her friend’s office.

“Wylan,” Inej greeted as she reached where her friend was hunched over his computer looking at a document that made Inej’s eyes swim. “You said you had something for me?”

He looked up and his sky blue eyes danced excitedly, making his red gold curls appear more disheveled than usual.

“Yes! You were right. The glove does match the DNA evidence that was found in your cold case from five years ago. So it’s definitely Kaz Brekker’s.” Inej didn’t even have time to be surprised before Wylan continued. “With the state of the body, I think you can probably guess to the cause of death.” He pointed to the bullet hole through the hear of the corpse. “But there was a significant penetration at her kidney that happened ante-mortem.”

“Torture?”

Wylan lifted his shoulders, “Most likely.”

Curious, Inej thought. The murder was almost exactly like her cold case, but while she was positive Kaz Brekker was the culprit to the former, she couldn’t be positive about him being responsible for the latter.

“What about the clothes? Did you get anything on those?”

At this Wylan’s eyes dimmed slightly, “Unfortunately no. I can only really tell you that they had been freshly washed. No traces of hair or any carpet fibers or anything. If Brekker really did this, then he was pretty careful about taking out any evidence that could even remotely connect him to this murder.”

“Except for the glove.” Inej reminded him.

Wylan tilted his head and nodded.

Inej sighed, “It just doesn’t make any sense. How can all the evidence point to Brekker, but then not point to him all at the same time?”

Wylan shrugged, and ran his hands through his hair, the gesture making him appear younger. It was so easy to forget that Wylan was just a little younger than Inej. He was the youngest forensic expert to ever work in their precinct, and he was a kid genius on top of it all. If things didn’t make any sense to him then something truly wasn’t adding up.

Inej stared at the glove sitting innocently in an evidence container and tried to iron out the doubts that were sitting restlessly in her mind. Forgetting everything else, if the culprit wasn’t Kaz Brekker, then who would it be? And why go through all the trouble to frame him?

Her thoughts were disrupted as she heard the sliding doors of Wylan’s office slide open.

Matthias appeared with his usual scowl, and Inej suppressed a smile at Wylan’s suddenly straight posture. Wylan would never admit it aloud, but Inej suspected he was still afraid of Matthias.

“The CCTV footage has been sent over.” Matthias told Inej.

“Great.” She said. “Thanks for all you help, Wy. Let us know if you find anything else.”

“Will do.” He saluted and turned to face his computer.

“Also,” Inej brought up before she could leave, “Try to lighten up on the coffee.” She gestured to the three empty coffee cups on his otherwise organized desk. It didn’t escape her notice that they all came from Brekker’s Brews. “That stuff will kill you, you know?”

Wylan blushed a bright red at Inej’s insinuation, but he only offered a nod in acknowledgement. It seems that even if she had told him who was the owner of that particular establishment, it couldn’t quite keep their lab tech away.

“What did Wylan say about the glove?” Matthias said as he sat back on his chair, waiting for the grainy video to hint at any clue that could help them in their case.

Inej didn’t turn to look at him, but she responded anyway, “He said that it could point to being Brekker’s and could link him to the murder that happened five years ago.”

“But you don’t think it’s him, do you?”

Inej sighed, “I don’t know what I think. I want it to be him. I want the evidence to be nice and clean and I can finally put his ass behind bars. But I’ve been on Brekker’s tail for a long time, and he’s not this sloppy.”

“Everyone makes mistakes.” Matthias responded. And while that was exactly her thought, she just couldn’t get herself to believe it, even if it came from her trusty partner.

Inej was about to tell him her doubts when a movement happened on screen.

“Okay looks like we got something here.” Matthias said.

There were two figures that entered the periphery of the camera. One was clearly shorter than the other, but built like a brick wall, while the other had the stature of a football player. Despite the grainy footage, Inej was still able to discern the faint presence of a tattoo on both of their forearms.

She held her breath as they both looked over their shoulders, clearly looking on the lookout for something. The football player smiled and nudged his friend roughly. The other shook his head and shoved him away. He walked to where the body was found and made another comment to his friend. The shorter man walked off screen, and before the video could continue white static filled the screen.

“What--”

“The wires got cut around there, unfortunately.” Matthias sighed. “This was the only street cam facing the alley, and there was nothing that showed up on the closest street cameras. But did you see those tattoos?”

Inej nodded, “Razorgulls. Do you still have contacts in the gang unit?”

“No need.” He said. “I remember those guys from my gang unit days. They hang around the docks. If we don’t find them there, I know a couple more popular hangs for these guys.”

“Let’s go.”

By the time Matthias and Inej had caught sight of the two figures from the surveillance cameras, they were a little late. It had nothing to do with the fact that they had been scouring the city long enough for the true dark of the night to descend upon them. It had to with the fact that someone had gotten to the two gang bangers first. And that someone was Kaz Brekker. If that wasn’t bad enough, it looked like he was in the middle of beating them to death.

“Hey! Stop! Police!” Matthias’s deep voice cut through the cries of pain coming from the two men. But it was like he said nothing at all because Brekker used the cane in his hand to swing down on a shin. Inej struggled to prevent her shudder as she heard the distinct sound of bone shattering.

“I’ve told you all that I know!” The man screamed through his pain.

“I consider myself a good judge of character, Geels, and I know for a fact you’re lying.” Kaz opened his mouth to say something else, but Matthias was almost on him and he growled in frustration, “Looks like we’re going to have to continue this conversation later. That is if you can post bail.”

Kaz broke for a run just as Matthias got within arms reach, and Inej had to hand it to him, for someone who needed a cane to navigate through the world, he moved faster than shadow. But unfortunately for him, Inej knew she was faster.

“Matthias arrest those two,” She gestured to the two injured men, “I’ll take Brekker!”

She broke out into a run, and while Kaz had a head start, she would argue she knew this harbor better than anyone. Including Kaz. So when he had turned a left into a row of cargo containers in an attempt to confuse her though the maze of metal boxes, she just smiled to herself and climbed one with practiced ease. It took her almost no time to see his path and even less time for her to sprint and jump and land right on top of him.

His body cushioned her fall, and if her mind wasn’t so preoccupied with the bruise she knows she’s going to have on the knee that took some of the fall, she would have had room to ponder at the heat emanating from him, as well as the way she felt his muscles freeze in what seemed like panic when her hand brushed against the exposed skin of his wrists.

“Kaz Brekker, you’re under arrest for the assault of two key witnesses in a murder.” Inej grunted reaching around her waist for her handcuffs.

She waited for his inevitable comeback, but for the first time of ever talking to Kaz Brekker, he was silent. Inej studied him, and noticed the clench in his jaw and the glazed expression in his eyes. She’s arrested her fair share of criminals, and one way or another they had the same panicked, trapped expression. But Brekker wasn’t acting like a trapped criminal, he was a cornered animal that looked like he might pass out at any given moment.

Is he okay?

No sooner had she thought it, Matthias materialized at her shoulder breathing heavily.

“Leave it to the great Inej Ghafa to catch the most uncatchable killer.” He said.

Inej wrenched her mind away from Kaz’s strange behavior and scrambled off of him after securing the metal cuffs.

Matthias grabbed Kaz roughly and had a tight hold on his shoulder.

“Watch his hands, Helvar. He’s a slippery one.” Inej managed, still puzzled by Brekker’s uncharacteristic silence.

Matthias nodded, but Inej’s focus wasn’t on him. She just watched Kaz get led to the police car, pondering the simple fact that the great Kaz Brekker seemed to be having a panic attack.

#grishabigbang20 #knife in the back #soc #six of crows #KANEJ #kaz x inej #matthias helvar #wylan van eck

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gravitydefyingtears · 5 years ago

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MDZS Audio Drama

200 Million Reward: Eating Melon

Y’all, it’s been a busy day. Busy procrastinating on real life, that is. The fruits of my tearful labour: yet another translation.

Not the first time with this audio drama, but I could barely stand go back to edit because I knew the feels hit hard each time. Knowing that it’s coming does not help.

TL;DR Ouch, my heart. 😭😭😭

... ... ...

WY = Wei Ying; JFM = Jiang Fengmian; shushu = uncle

… … …

Man: Those below, move out of the way! Firecrackers going off! [sounds of firecrackers] Crowd: Happy New Year! Wishing you happiness and prosperity! All the best! May all things go well for you! [new year well wishes continue] Shopkeeper: Steam buns! Freshly made steam buns! Steam buns! Fresh and hot steam buns! Ay! Have a look! Freshly made steam buns! Steam buns! WY: …

Shopkeeper: Hey, kid. Want a steam bun? WY: Heh, I’m not hungry. Shopkeeper: You’re not hungry? I could hear your stomach growling from all the way over here. Here, I’ll gift you a bun. What filling do you like? WY: Really? I... Shopkeeper’s Wife: Hey! You think our household is well off? Xiao Bao is going to school next year and we haven’t earned enough for the fees yet! Where did this little beggar come from? Aiya, so dirty! Shoo! Don’t get in the way of our business! [t/n: Xiao Bao = lit. Little Treasure] WY: Oh! I’m sorry... Shopkeeper: Hey! Hey, kid! Wait, wait! WY: Oh? Shopkeeper: Here, a bun. I said I’d give it to you. Go on, eat it. Shopkeeper’s Wife: Hey! What are you doing?! WY: Thank you. It’s okay. I’m really not hungry. Shopkeeper: Aiya, that kid is quite well-behaved. It’s not like he’s bothering anyone for food. It’s New Year’s, what’s wrong with giving away a bun? ... WY: *sighs* WY: Can’t walk anymore... Lady: This steam bun tastes really good. Too bad I’m a little too full. Lady’s Husband: If you can’t then don’t eat anymore. Don’t make yourself and the child in your belly uncomfortable! Hey, little beggar over there. Come, come! Lady: Come, child. You can have the bun. WY: Thank you! *eats happily* Lady: You’re welcome. Let’s go. (Lady: That child looks dirty all over and yet his features are unexpectedly nice looking. He looks very good when he smiles!) WY: *eating* It’s good! (Lady: I wonder if the one in my belly will grow to be as good-looking.) (Lady’s Husband: Good-looking or not, it’s still our child, right? It’s fine as long as they can grow up safely. As parents, what more can we ask for?) WY: ...Father...Mother... [dog barking] WY: *gasps* Stay away...stay away! WY: Ah! Help! Go away! WY: Ah!! It hurts! WY: I’ll give you the bun! Stop biting! Shitty Dog Owner: Da Huang! Da Huang! Da Huang! Aiya! *struggles with the dog* [t/n: Da Huang = lit. Big Yellow] WY: Help! Save me! Shitty Dog Owner: Let go! Quick, let go! WY: *crying* Shitty Dog Owner: Aiya, really... Go back now! I stop watching for a second and you cause trouble for me. Good thing it’s just a little beggar. If the one bitten was someone’s kid and the parents came back to make trouble, what do you want me to do? [dog barks] WY: *sniffs* WY: ...The steam bun! *grabs it* WY: It’s good! ^^ ... [seasons change] ... [bustle of the crowd] Watermelon Seller: Watermelons! Freshly picked watermelons! Big and sweet! Come have a taste! Merchant: *eating* Hm! You grow the sweetest watermelons after all! This year’s summer is so hot. Just one trip of pulling the cart and I’m covered in sweat. Merchant: Let’s have another slice. Watermelon Seller: Hey, when you’re done eating, don’t randomly throw the peel. Put it over there. There’s a kid who often collects them to eat. Merchant: A kid? Watermelon Seller: Yeah, a little street urchin. Well-behaved and likes to smile. Look, he’s here. Watermelon Seller: Here. WY: Thank you! Merchant: He really does like to smile! Born with a nice face, too. If I knew, I would’ve left a few more bites for him. ... [collides] WY: Ah! JFM: You must be A-Ying! WY: You are...? JFM: Ah, my name is Jiang Fengmian. I’m a friend of your parents. WY: You...know my parents? JFM: I do. Your father is Wei Changze, right? WY: Right! JFM: A-Ying, do you want to eat this? WY: Watermelon? JFM: I bought it for you. Want to eat it? WY: Yes! Thank you! JFM: A-Ying, why don’t you come back to Lotus Pier with shushu? There are lots of delicious foods there. Right now, lotuses are in season. The seeds are very sweet, as tasty as watermelon. You’ll definitely like it. WY: Really? JFM: Really. I’m not lying to you. Come, I’ll take you home. WY: Okay! JFM: *chuckles* JFM: I have a son called Jiang Cheng. He’s around the same age as you. I’m sure you can become good friends...

... ... ...

Do I have to say it? Support the official team! Also, the music is amazing! As always!

Now, let me go cry some more.

#mo dao zu shi #mdzs audio drama #wei wuxian #jiang fengmian #s3 #im already broke and youre making me pay for tissues wow #radish translations

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fratboyvivimatthews · 5 years ago

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thunderstorms- a jack hughes blurb

“wyatt, you have to go to sleep,” you sighed while standing up from the rocking chair that was still located in his room. his brown curls brushed against you chin as he pulled his head back from your chest to stare up at you. “don’t give me that look,” you added, knowing you couldn’t resist the blue eyes he had inherited from his father.

“i want daddy first,” he slurred, sleep clearly close to taking over his body. “i want daddy!” his legs began flailing causing you to set him down so he didn’t hit your small bump. his bottom lip jutted out as he stared up at you, arms crossed over his chest. “mommy, give me daddy,” wyatt demanded, his little foot stomping into the ground.

letting out a huff of air you nodded your head, “wy, he’s in the shower still.” you reached down and ran your fingers through his brown hair. “let’s get you tucked into bed, and as soon as daddy’s out of the shower i’ll tell him to come and kiss you goodnight, okay?” you asked, praying it would satisfy your toddler.

wyatt sighed before climbing up into his bed. “do you pwomise mommy?” he stuck his little pinky finger out towards you, since he’d seen you and jack do it before, waiting for you to wrap yours around his.

you hummed while interlacing your pinky with his, “i promise bubs. now let’s get you into bed okay?” he nodded his head, sleep finally taking over his body again. leaning over you pulled the devils comforter and sheets down so he could climb in. once he was settled and laying on his back he smiled up at you.

“goodnight mommy!” wyatt squealed, squeezing his eyes shut waiting for you to kiss him like you did every single night. “kiss me mommy!” he giggled, peaking his eyes open to stare up at you. smiling down at him you pressed your lips against his, his arms wrapping your neck to hug you. “i love you mommy,” he whispered as you wrapped your own arms around him.

“i love you too wy guy,” you mused before pressing another kiss to his lips. “now get some sleep bubs, i’ll send daddy here okay?” he nodded his head while dropping back on to his pillow with a thud. walking away from his bed you flipped on his night light, and turning off the room one as you walked to the door. right as you went to pull the door shut behind you, jack’s arms wrapped around your waist, his lips pressing against your neck. “hmm, hi love,” you smiled before turning in his arms, your own slipping around his neck.

he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, as your eyes looked down to the new bruise on his collar bone from the game. your fingers reached down and gently traced over it as he stared down at you. “hi sweetheart,” jack spoke, his voice causing you to meet his eyes. “wyatt looking for me?” subconsciously his thumbs started to rub against your middle, eyes looking over your shoulder to see his son now rolled over on his side most likely asleep.

“like always,” you added, looking behind yourself to see your son. “i told him you’d say goodnight, so you better get in there j.” he nodded before pulling away from you, and walking into the dimly lit room. leaning against the doorframe you watched jack kneel down before your two year old a smile growing on his face.

you could hear wyatt’s tired voice calling for his daddy, before watching jack get attacked in a hug. the sound of their laughter filled your ears before jack was calming him back down. “okay bud, it’s time to get some sleep okay?” you couldn’t hear wyatt’s answer bu watched as he leaned forward to give his father a kiss, “i love you too wyatt, now get some sleep. goodnight buddy, we love you.” by the time jack was done speaking he was standing by your side, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you close.

“i love you too mommy and daddy,” he yawned, rubbing his eyes trying to fight sleep from consuming him. jack slowly pulled the door closed before turning to you again.

“ready for bed love?” you asked seeing how tired he was, the play-off game against the bruins being a lot rougher tonight then the previous two. “because you look exhausted jacky.” he nodded his head before dropping it against your shoulder.

slowly you lead him down the hallway to your shared room. “‘m very exhausted,” jack mumbled out as you walked into the bedroom. “can we just go to sleep now? i gotta get up for practice in the morning and ‘m not looking forward to it,” he whined before plopping down on the unmade bed.

you nodded your head before flipping the light off, then crawling into bed next to him. as soon as you slipped under the covers jack’s head dropped to your chest, laying right on top of his t-shirt you were wearing. his left hand inching the fabric up so his hand could rest on your raised stomach. his fingers lightly drew heart shapes across your skin, and you could feel him smile into your chest as he did. “j, go to sleep love,” you whispered while running your hands through his hair.

“i love you y/n/n, goodnight.”

you pressed a kiss against his forehead, watching as his eyes slipped shut, “goodnight j, i love you too.” with that you fell asleep with a smile on your face, and jack sound asleep on your chest.

it had to have been around one in the morning when you felt the bed dip, and one little hand press against your calf. the feeling was followed by the sound of hushes voices, and a loud crack of thunder. right away you knew wyatt had crawled into your bed, his body probably shaking from being so scared. opening your eyes you scanned the dark room, watching as it was illuminated by the lightning to see jack was now laying next to you, wyatt curled on top of his chest.

“sh, sh bud it’s okay wyatt, i promise okay?” jack murmured into the dark of the room, his voice almost being drowned out by the sound of the rain. “and mommy’s right next to us bubs, okay?”

rolling over to your side, you dropped your hand on to his back causing your boys to look over at you with sleep filled smiles. “daddy’s right, i’m right here okay?” slowly wyatt nodded his, “and you can sleep right in between us if you want. or on daddy’s chest, that’s my personal favorite place to sleep.”

jack’s head nodded, “she’s right. she’s been sleeping there since we were sixteen, and we’re twenty-one now.” wyatt made a funny face, those numbers being too high for him to comprehend them. “but i’m sure she’d let you sleep here for the night bud, right love?”

you lazily hummed for an answer, “of course you can wy, but you better cuddle with me next time there’s a thunderstorm okay?” a cheeky smile grew on his face as he nodded over at you, burying his head deeper into his father’s bare chest. when you heard jack groan you knew wyatt had hit the bruise. as another crack of thunder roared you watched as wyatt visibly shaked in jack’s arms. slowly you rubbed your hand up and down his back, as jack whispered sweet nothings into the boys hair.

slowly you watched as wyatt’s blue eyes fell closed, and his body stopped shaking in fear. your eyes looked away from wyatt, and back up to jack who was already looking down at you. “you know, he takes after his mother when it comes to thunderstorms,” jack teased, a lazy smile pulling on the corners of his lips.

“shut up, he does not,” you huffed, eyes rolling as you spoke. “i’m not scared of thunderstorms, luke is. he gets it from your brother.”

“well he is the baby of the family,” jack added, your eyes rolling once more. “okay but we can both agree it’s cute when wyatt crawls into our bed. it wasn’t cute when luke would crawl in between us when were were eighteen and he was fifteen.” a laugh fell past your lips as you remembered all of the nights you’d wake up to luke shoving you and jack away from each other so he could be in the middle.

“that’s because wyatt’s our son, and luke’s your annoying brother,” you answered, a yawn falling from your lips after. you smiled up at jack, before looking back to wyatt who was out like a light once more, lips parted as he breathed, and curls dangling over his forehead. “now if only you looked that cute when you sleep jack.”

your husbands mouth fell open as he stared down at you, “hey! that’s not fair!” you shrugged your shoulders before closing your eyes to fall back asleep, a smile on your face, and listening to jack grumble about how wyatt was his mini-me, but you wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #my works #fratboyvivimatthews masterlist

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kindness-ricochets · 5 years ago

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Prompt: “Babysitting”

Unedited fic-a-day February continues! It occurred to me that I’ve treated almost all of these as a romantic/couple prompt and they really needn’t be. Anyway this one is no exception!

More modern wesper au. Important note: I kind of have this extensive headcanon where in a modern au, Wylan eventually does receive intervention services for his dyslexia, so this fic includes some reading/decoding.

============

Wylan sat with his feet tucked up under him. The chair looked like books, padded pages making up the sides with a shimmering title on the armrest. He traced the letters with his fingertip. An empty swell rose in his chest--not quite hope, but something that cleared the way should hope have reason to arrive. A, ah. Ah, ell—all? No… it was bigger than that. All… I… Alike in… The last word squirmed. He squeezed his eyes shut, then tried again. Alike in W…

Wylan turned away, that space inside him rapidly deflating. He looked away from the letters and startled to find himself face-to-face with a puppet. "Hello," said the puppet in a silly voice. Wylan had to smile. He had some less than great things in his past, but he had the very best people in his present. And nothing could banish a rotten mood quite like the most perfect boyfriend history had ever known. "Hi, Jesper." "Whaaaat?" said the puppet. It was an alligator and opened its mouth wide, then shook its head, rotating its googly eyes. "Who is this mysterious, handsome Jesper? I am Allie Gator. This is two words, you have to get it right, Allie. Gator." The puppet gave an empathic nod with each name. Stifling laughter, Wylan said, "Okay, Missus Ga—" "No, no, no! Miss! I used to be Missus Potamus." "You're an alligator who was married to a hippopotamus?" The puppet got aggressively in his face as it asked, "You got a problem with that, PAL?!" Laughing, Wylan managed, "Nope, no problem at all, ma'am." He looked up at Jesper, but Jesper said, still in his Allie Gator voice, "My eyes are down here!" Wylan found himself laughing again. "Sorry." "You are forgiven, do you know why, because young people have no manners today. Like YOU," said Miss Gator, once more getting in Wylan's face so he fell back, still laughing. The book he had been reading… trying to read… fell from his hand. When he went to pick it up, he saw a small child watching him and blushed. It wasn't a very mature book. "What are we reading?" asked Allie Gator, settling over Wylan's shoulder. She gasped dramatically. (She did everything dramatically.) "Elephant and Piggie?! Ahh! That is my favorite series, how did you know? I take back what I said, you are a nice boy, you have good manners." She scruffed his hair. "And nice hair. I like curls, very yummy." Wylan hadn’t wanted Jesper to see him reading Elephant and Piggie. He hadn’t wanted anyone to see him reading Elephant and Piggie, which is why he was reading in the back corner of children’s section in the public library. "What are you doing here, anyway, Jesper?" "There is no mysterious, handsome, brilliant Jesper," Jesper said. "Only Allie Gator and boy with yummy hair," then he went back to scruffing Wylan’s hair and making ‘mmm’ noises. "Um, please don't eat my hair," Wylan said. "Can I eat your freckles?" Clearly they were not having a serious conversation any time soon. "I… kinda like them." "Oh. But I would like them, too. I think I would like them more." The alligator brushed at Wylan's face while he laughed and batted at it. "These do not come off." "They're freckles!" Wylan said. "Excuse me, Mister Alligator." All three turned to see a little girl standing nearby. Several other children watched them. Jesper/Allie gasped dramatically. "This human has even more freckles!" The girl shrieked and ran away. Jesper chased after her, puppet hand outstretched, occasionally calling after her to come back with those freckles. Wylan laughed and shook his head. Jesper and the kids were having so much fun. The kids were, mostly, only a little taller than the shelves, so he would see the tops of their heads, and then most of Jesper, gator puppet still in the lead. While they played, Wylan forced his attention back to the book. Waiting is Not Easy. The words in the book were short and spaced generously, which helped him sound them out, and even though Wylan felt separate from the play, he didn’t feel left out of it. He felt like he was a part of this. He was the ‘sitting quietly in the corner’ part, but he was still a part. And sure, it was a book for little kids, but Wylan still read the whole thing by himself. It was a pretty cute story. When he glanced up from the book, smiling a private smile, Wylan spotted Jesper talking with the librarian. His heart leapt. Had Jesper gotten into trouble? When Jesper made his way back to Wylan, he was smiling. “How did it go?” Wylan shrugged. Jesper sighed and once more attacked Wylan’s face with a fluffy puppet. Wylan laughed and fell back in his chair, trying to avoid the face-biting alligator. “No!” he cried. “Too late, I’m going to eat all your delicious freckles!” “Nooo, Jesper, save me! And my freckles!” Those had been the magic words. Jesper tossed the puppet aside and pulled Wylan to his feet. “I could never let any harm come to those perfect freckles.” Wylan had done so much laughing, his face felt sore from it. He hugged Jesper. “I love you.” Jesper squeezed Wylan and Wylan never wanted to be let go. “Walk me home?” “Well, seeing as my truck is at your place…” “Shh, just walk me home.” “Quietly?” Jesper asked, incredulous, but he put the puppet away and Wylan put his book on the returns cart by the desk. Together they made their way out into the evening. Wylan noticed the paper in Jesper’s hand. “Was the librarian angry?” “Hm? Oh! No, it’s a volunteer application. She asked if I wanted to help out at storytime.” Jesper would be good at that. He was an engaging reader and obviously great with kids if the half-hour of alligator-fleeing was any indication. “Can I come to storytime?” Wylan asked, leaning against Jesper as they walked. “That is—if the puppets can resist me.” “Don’t be ridiculous, Wy. We both know you’re irresistible.”

#six of crows #soc fanfic #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #wesper #modern au #fluff #mostly fluff #there's a tiny bit of angst at the beginning #my writing

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yawnjunie · 4 years ago

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monster hunting for dummies (2)

chapter two: it’s all fun and games

wc: 4.3k a/n: i'm too lazy to put the same descriptions in the top of each chapter and reformat it each time so it'll just be word count from now on; additional warnings will be put in new chapters' descriptions if necessary. if you would like to see the info again, just revisit chapter one or the masterlist. happy reading!

———

Jumping off of the Viking ride, you took a moment to catch your breath before looking for something fun to do again. You walked among the crowd, looking around at the people around you. From juggling clowns to contortionist freaks to children with gargantuan cotton candies, the carnival was just the place you’d imagined it to be.

“Corn dogs, corn dogs, come one, come all!”

You were studying a yellowed fair map until your ears perked up at the sound of the snack vendor’s voice, whipping your head in the direction of the call. After wandering around for a while, you were sure you’d seen almost every ride, every game booth, every circus animal. That ride had worked up your appetite, and now you were a carnivorous predator. Nothing in the world mattered anymore— nothing but food.

You were close. You could feel it– well, smell it. There it was: the holy grail. You slowed your steps to behold the majestic sight. Feeling like a prince in shining armor on his way to collect his princess, you felt the wind billow in your skirt as you flipped your hair. Come to mama!

But of course, life didn’t like making things easy. Standing in the way of your precious dinner were those five dunderheads. No problem, you reassured yourself, tapping your foot on the ground. Patience is a virtue. This’ll only take a few minutes.

A few minutes felt more like a few hours. But at long last, they sauntered off and you stepped up to the stand.

“I’ll take two.” You jammed your hand into your skirt pocket and pulled out four wrinkled one-dollar bills.

“Sorry, those young fellas took the last ones. It’s about a 15 minute wait for the next batch, though.”

“Never mind, I’m leaving.” Your smile disappeared almost immediately; your angry meter was really peaking. You needed to blow off some steam before you really killed a man. Or five.

Just a few minutes away from the stand, you found yourself at a hammer game. This’ll do.

Wham! You brought that hammer down with the force of a thousand, fueled by your rage at those five jerks. It especially helped to envision their faces on the target.

Not too shabby! The weight went up pretty high, at least by your standards. Exhaling deeply, you placed your hands on your hips and grinned. It felt nice. Beat that, assholes!

“Wow, this looks fun! Let’s go give it a try!”

Oh, God. I didn’t mean it literally.

“Me first!”

“No, I’m going!”

“Step aside, peasants, bow down to your mighty Crown Prince!”

Out of all the places they could’ve gone, they just had to choose the hammer game.

Ding ding ding!

“Whaaaa, you did it first try! Won’t you gimme your prize, hyung?”

“Amazing! What would you like, young fella?” The booth tender showed the boy a massive selection of large stuffed toys.

“You guys are really intent on ruining my day, aren’t you,” you hissed, making no effort to mask your annoyance. Before the rest of them could upstage your performance in the hammer game, you stalked off in long, brisk strides.

––––

This sucks. This really freaking sucks. Even though you came to the carnival to enjoy yourself, you were feeling even worse than when you arrived.

Before you headed out, you figured you might as well take a full tour of the place and see if there was anything worth seeing. You weren’t going to let a bunch of boys from school ruin your fun at the carnival. For some bizarre reason, after wandering around for a bit, you kept finding yourself standing in front of the same ragged, purple tent with yellow stripes. It was as sketchy as sketchy got, and that was exactly what caught your eye. You were about to enter when a voice cut through the silence.

“Whoa whoa whoa! Let’s go there next! It looks so mysterious!”

Why me?

“Hell yeah, maybe we’ll meet a wizard!”

That was it. Something inside you snapped.

You whirled around to confront them once and for all. “Listen up. I don’t know what your problem is, but either you guys shut up or stop following me. I’m sick and tired of your stupid voices!”

“What– Wyann??”

“You were at the carnival too? What a coincidence running into you here!”

“Sure is a small world, isn’t it?” one of the boys exclaimed, licking his vanilla and chocolate swirl ice cream. Even his choice in ice cream flavors made your eyes twitch.

“Coincidence my ass. This is the fourth time you’ve gotten in my way since I’ve gotten here, and I’ve had enough. First, you just so happen to get on the only ride I decide to go on and shriek like you’re about to be murdered, then you take the last corn dogs– that was going to be my dinner, you know– and you––” That last part was too embarrassing to say out loud, so you waved your hand around instead. “Point is, you’ve done enough, haven’t you? Why don’t you leave me alone for once?!”

“Dude, what’re you talking about? When did any of that happen?” Yeonjun stepped in front, hands at his hips. “What is your problem, huh?”

“If we knew you were here, we would’ve said hi! You’ve got us all wrong, we wouldn’t do that on pur–” Huening Kai started.

“Spare me. The number of shits I give is about the same as the number of corn dogs in my stomach.”

“Okay, we’re really sorry if we bothered you, and we’ll try our best not to let it happen again. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be heading into this creepy tent to find ourselves a wizard.” Taehyun cut, an expression of pure glee plastered onto his face. He didn’t spare one glance at you when he said that.

“Hold it right there, nerds, I’m not done with—”

“Uhm…” Oh, great. Bread boy. “If you’re still hungry… do you want some ice cream?” He extended his waffle cone, a sticky, melted, half-eaten-with-drool-all-over-it abomination to prove his point. What, does he want me to knock that thing out of his hand? When he caught wind of your disgusted expression, he took the cone back and flushed in embarrassment. “I mean, not mine, of course. I’ll buy you a new one.”

You stood by silent and stone-faced as he went off to a nearby ice cream cart. A few minutes later, he came back with a vanilla-chocolate swirl akin to his own. You hated vanilla-chocolate with a passion.

“Here.” Bread boy held out the cone expectantly, his face scrunched into a small smile. “And don’t worry about paying me back. Think of this as an apology gift for all the trouble we’ve caused you.”

You continued to stare straight ahead.

“Aww, come on, Wyann. Truce?”

Still you said nothing.

“Wy—”

Splat. A sickly brown bled into the half-dead grass, mottled with strains of a bleak gray.

“Do you need me to spell it out for you?” An angry pink had formed on the back of his hand, a mirror print of your palm.

“I don’t want anything to do with you guys. And you should know by now that I’m more trouble than I’m worth. Trust me, you wouldn’t want to be my friend. So do us both a favor and f*ck off, please.” That was it. There was no way you could’ve bottled that up any longer.

He didn’t say anything, his tingling hand frozen in place and disbelieving eyes taking in the murder scene. Without another word, you turned and walked into the tent. Even if it meant walking straight into an awkward situation, you weren’t letting anything else ruining the rest of your time there.

“Hey, Wyann! Nice of you to join us!”

“Hey.”

“Where’s ‘Bin?”

“Outside.”

“Hey, yeah, I’m here!” Well, shit. “Sorry, I was cleaning up my mess outside.”

You kept your gaze on the ground, bracing yourself for the whiplash of your assholery— which you very much deserved, of course— but to your surprise, that small smile of his was back on his face as if nothing had happened.

You were off the hook, but for some reason, a twinge of guilt struck at your heart.

Meanwhile, the rest of the boys were busy exploring the shop. From every oil painting to every nameless book lay a new story waiting to be told. There was so much to explore.

Walking past a bookshelf, a specific volume glinted at the corner of Taehyun’s eye, catching his attention. This seems interesting. He lifted the heavy book up carefully and turned it over in his hands.

Upon closer observation, he noticed that the book was covered in a thick layer of dust. There was an empty slot for it on the dark shelf, yet it had been sitting out collecting dust. Its pages were yellowed, its parchment crumbling with age. It looked like something from the library of a Medieval wizard, but not out of place in a fortune teller’s tent, yet he felt a strange connection to it. As if he were making a wish, the curious boy blew off the layer of dust on it.

Grey particles diffusing to the other parts of the tent, the title of the mysterious volume became visible.

The Tome of Spirit Summoning.

“Whoa, where’d you get that from?” Yeonjun said, eyes wide with surprise and curiosity.

“Ooh, open the book! Open the book!” Beomgyu urged, shoving a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth.

“Not before you put your food away,” the boy replied, carefully turning around to shield the ancient pages from flying popcorn grease. The other two rushed over to his side to see the contents of the mysterious book for themselves. He carefully flipped to the first page, where there was a fancy inscription in a language none of you understood. It looks like Latin.

Disinterested, you left that side of the tent and continued browsing elsewhere.

“So, anything interesting to see in this little hovel?”

“Excuse me, what do you mean by ‘hovel,’ young lady? This place is the highlight of the circus, a sacred emporium for the mystic.” Naturally, the owner of the hovel looked like a scraggly old hobo.

“I mean that your place looks like crap. Not exactly the most appealing, you know.”

His face immediately dropped into a frown. “What do you want-“

“But that’s exactly why I decided to come in. So what do you got in here, sir?” You sauntered through the shop, dragging your fingers along the shelves. “Let’s see, what do we have here? Crumbling books, organic soaps, dollar-store scented candles, relabeled antidepressants, preserved human innards…” you trailed off, deciding that the place was in fact, very creepy. But it left you more interested.

“Sir, what’s the coolest thing in the shop?”

“Probably that shelf of books over there,” he gestured to the shelf of books that was so hidden you wouldn’t even have noticed had Taehyun not found the book he was holding there. “They’re the intact volumes of the 16th century grimoires of spirits, complete with strange stories of the supernatural and their origins, how to conjure them and such. Of course, everything in this shop is precious to me, so I naturally take very good care of them.”

Boring. Then, something caught your attention. “Ooh, what’s that blue thing over there?” You pointed towards the object on top of the cabinet behind the fortune telling table.

“Sorry, that’s not for sale, missy.” His face grew dark, but you couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“Then why would you leave it out?” Blue-hair piped in from behind you.

“You see, it belongs to a certain somebody I’m trying to find— wait a minute. How many in your group?”

“Do you need new glasses, mister? I’m by myself. Those guys over there are just five random dumbasses.”

“By my stars… could it be...?” Without warning, the old man got up in your face, his nose almost pressed to yours.

You recoiled, nearly backing up all the way into Bread Boy. After murmuring a quick apology, you glared daggers at the shopkeeper, but there was something about the look in his eyes that held you back.

“Beast of the eternal flame...we’ve looked long and hard for hundreds of years.”

“What the hell is that?”

“You there, with the sight, surely you know what I mean,” the old man insisted, pointing a shaky, bony old finger straight at Tae’s chest.

The boy blanched, but strangely enough, didn’t deny the man’s claim. “How could you tell?”

“Of course, because I’m the same as you.”

“Tae…?”

“In my vision, you children asked about the Tome— Could it be finally happening?” He began muttering incoherently to himself once more.

You were starting to get irritated. “Alright, I’m out, this isn’t funny. I don’t know if you’re getting a kick out of this sick joke, but I’ve had en—”

“Wyann, let’s hear him out… I’m not so sure this is a joke.”

“No. You can stay and listen to this nutjob yap on about psychic bull, but I’m out of here.” Before you could get smited by some magic voodoo crap, you noped tf out of there. At least, you were going to, until the voices in your head came a’raspin’.

Stay, daemon. Stray not from the path that belongs to you.

Oh, God, don’t tell me I’m a schizophrenic.

No matter how much you wanted to get out of that creepy place, you really couldn’t. It felt like your feet were getting rooted to the ground, and the only way to go was back. To avoid incurring the wrath of the voices in your head, you did a 180. Even without the voices, there remained an unsettling feeling in your stomach. It’s just the creepy atmosphere of the carnival, no biggie.

Your arms were crossed as you leaned against the cold stone wall, rolling your eyes for good measure. But as disrespectful as you appeared, you still kept your manners in check. “For God’s sake, just please explain what the f*ck is going on.”

“The mystical beast borne of the flames…..the Seer...the prophecy...the Tome.” The fortune teller started sweating profusely, his eyes turning glassy and his whole body shaking. “The configuration…..”

Okay, very helpful. Like we’re supposed to know what any of that crap means. This man sounds and looks like he’s high.

“What are you talking about, anyways, old geezer? Care to explain in English?” Blue-hair knew when to pop in and asked all the right questions. You figured you should at least try and learn his name– Yeonjun, wasn’t it?– but hair color was a much easier way to ID him.

Gasping, the geezer suddenly collapsed onto the floor. Then, crawling to a small cabinet in the back, he pulled at the drawer handle and fumbled for something. That thing turned out to be an inhaler, with which he promptly used to pump some air into his mouth. After a few moments of heavy breathing, he started again weakly. “I just got a vision, and I’m afraid it means something far beyond my ability to decipher.” With shaking hands, he reached for the odd configuration and set it on the low table in front of him. “This is a family heirloom, and if you can pass my test, you are allowed to take it. Would you like to bet on it?”

You looked around at the guys huddled around you, waiting for your response expectantly. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you shrugged. “Okay yeah, sure.”

“Miss, your hand, please.”

“You’re not going to do anything weird to me, are you?” Knowing that your question wasn’t going to get answered anyway, you held out your hand to the guru. I’m a dumbass for doing this. Well, if I die, then I die.

The five boys huddled around you, intrigued by what was going to happen. The fortune teller sat you down, then dipped your palm into a weird red liquid. Then, mumbling a few words, he held your (what you presumed to be) blood-dipped hand onto the surface of the object. As if the object were alive, it pulsed a little under your hand. Or maybe, your heart was just beating so fast you could feel it in your hand.

Once more, the guru took a deep breath as he held your hand down on the object, his eyes shifting underneath his eyelids. It felt like an eternity until Soobin suddenly spoke up, pointing to your left.

“What’s he doing with his hand?”

All of your heads turned towards the guru’s right hand, which looked like it was furiously tapping at his desk. Rat-tat, tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat. At first, it looked like he was just shaking. It took a moment for you to realize that it wasn’t just a nonsensical series of tapping—it was some sort of code.

“Could it be a code?” The boy who you knew as Huening Kai asked.

“...Morse Code.” Both you and the blonde-haired boy croaked out at the same time.

As the man kept humming and tapping, the bunch of you started to get excited.

“Oh shoot bro, grab your notebook! We gotta write this down!”

“Go, go, go! Why are you so slow?” Beomgyu urged, unzipping his older friend’s backpack.

“Hey guys, chill! What is this, Stranger Things? Where we crack some Russian spy code shit?” Yeonjun responded, annoyed that his backpack was being dug into without his permission.

“Shut up, what if it means something?”

“Okay, I got the notebook, gimme a pencil—”

“Hey wait, doesn’t Taehyun know how to decipher morse code?” Soobin pointed out.

“Yeah! Wait, Tae, come over here!”

“...Tae? Are you okay?”

You were so caught up in the group’s chatter that you didn’t even realize one of the boys became oddly silent, but he quickly snapped to attention.

“Huh, what is it?” “Tell us what this says!”

Before the boy could respond to his friends, the guru’s eyes sprang open. His large orbs which once shone like tiger eye stones, were now dull and bloodshot, veins bulging out and magnified by the tears that clouded their surfaces. “Take it! Leave this place!”

Although the bunch of you began to sweat from the excitement, the room suddenly felt ten degrees colder. Or maybe it was just that your hands were cold and clammy.

“Uh, what’s going on?”

“Sir, are you alright? Would you like us to call an amb—” Yeonjun offered.

“I said, get out! Go away!” He clutched his head tightly, mumbling spells quietly as if to dispel something in his mind.

“O-oh, okay then,” you stood up, and were about to leave before the guru grabbed your wrist out of nowhere, making you jump.

“Beware of the blue moon. The flames are not going to stop licking the great gate. Remember who you are.”

Shaking off his grip, you clutched the bloodstained orb-like contraption in trembling hands. “You aren’t gonna die, are you?” It didn’t seem right to leave this old man on his own in the state he was in, but he looked like he might murder you or even give you rabies.

“Worry about yourself, first. Get out. I’m warning you––” Boom! “Okay, what the f*ck was that?” A large crash sounded, followed by the pitter-patter of heavy raindrops. It seemed uncanny that it would be raining this hard, given that it was the middle of June, the dry season, and that it had been 110ºF just a few hours ago.

“It wasn’t a bomb, was it?” Soobin shuddered, brows furrowed in fear.

“Are you dumb? It’s literally raining and there’s thundering outside!” Yeonjun shouted back.

“So? Bombs still go ‘boom’ whether there’s rain or not!”

“You’re such an idi––” “Uhm, guys? I think we have a bigger problem to be worrying about.” Huening Kai called from in front of the two of them, eyes widening in fear. “What?!” The two snapped in unison, their faces pinched in the same annoyed expression.

“In case you haven’t noticed, the tent’s kinda on fire. Come on, we have to go!”

“Then wouldn’t the rain just put it ou––”

“For f*ck’s sake, unless you guys want your sorry asses to be seared into five well-done idiot steaks, f*cking move!” One of your bad habits was excessive swearing when you were stressed, and it was starting to really f*cking show. Running back into the tent, you grabbed the two boys by their forearms and booked them out of there.

Without another argument, the six of you bolted for the exit as the tent began to fold in on itself, threatening to trap you in a wall of fire. It was hard to see straight through all the smoke and heat. You felt yourself slowly letting go of the boys’ arms you were holding just a few seconds ago. You were melting. Your body, your mind, who you were, the line between reality and fantasy, logic and reason; all of it melted into one fat pile of goop.

And then all of a sudden, like you were pulled out from deep waters, you could breathe again. You’d made it to the exit, and you were safe now. Looking up, you took a moment to soak in the rain, which washed over you like a cold shower. There was something about running for your life in the rain that made it all the more exciting.

Nature��s teardrops fell onto your skin, flowing down from your large eyes to your chapped lips, from your hairy arms to your mosquito-bite ridden legs. It felt nice to just stand in the cold. Somehow, through the flame and the weight of the new responsibility you now carried, you felt happy. So happy, in fact, that you flashed a smile at the guys behind you as you took a break from running, holding the blue contraption against your stomach.

But that smile quickly faded as you heard a hard thud behind you, followed by a sharp yelp.

“Ah… my ankle…” One of the boys was on the ground, arms hugging his left leg. Face pinched in pain, he attempted to get to his feet, but winced when he put his weight on his left side. He was the one that helped you find your econ class. The rest of the boys ran back to his side to see if he was okay, and you were right behind them.

“Beomgyu! Can you walk?” Massaging his ankle, the boy on the ground just shook his head. “I think it’s sprained.” “Here, get on my back. I’ll carry you.” Yeonjun kneeled in front of him, beckoning him to crawl onto his back, but after a moment’s thought, turned to face him and held his hands out as if he were proposing.

“...What? I can get up on my own—”

“I love ya. Will ya marry me?” “What the h–” “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Without a warning, he scooped the injured boy off his feet and carried him bridal style. Beomgyu opened his mouth to protest, but the other boy simply smiled wryly.

“What’s the matter, wifey? You want a kiss?” The threat of Yeonjun’s puckered lips was enough to shock him into submission. “Guys, what are we gonna do?” The question running through everyone’s minds was now in the air, and nobody had an answer for it. Silence descended upon the group; you were all waiting for someone to tell you where to go next, but each of you was as clueless as the person next to you.

“How long are you planning to stand around in the rain?” You spoke in the most classic Wyann voice you could muster: self-assured, blunt, somewhat irritated, and on top of the situation. The exact opposite of how you felt at the moment.

“Yeah, let’s just hurry and get out of here. I could use a bite to eat.” The other four clamored in agreement, and the group came to the consensus that they would figure things out over dinner. After a quick search on Google Maps, they set out for a small diner just a block away.

It was as if your feet were planted deep into the earth. You could only watch their backs as they walked down the street past the bus stop, as they walked away from the troubles of today, far beyond your reach. The frightened screams of the carnival-goers were drowned out by the sound of the sirens, but more so by the overwhelming silence that grew louder and louder in your head. But the strangest feeling was your heart sinking, as if it were washing down to your feet like rainwater through a waterpipe. Then, one of the silhouettes stopped and turned, then started towards you.

“Wyann. Aren’t you coming?” Bread Boy extended his hand for the second time that day, but this time, you took it. He wore an expression of surprise on his face, as if he expected you to not take it, which he quickly hid as you pulled him along. It was at that moment that maybe you’d decided he was not that terrible of a person.

The bunch of you walked down the road, a little too calmly for a group of kids who’d just escaped a fairground set ablaze. Little did you know, in the moment you slipped your hand into his, you had forsaken the world. Luckily, the world was a much uglier place than you had thought.

––––

It was a feeling he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Tae held the small object closer to his chest and his fingers curled around the matted tufts of its felt.

The plushie was caked in mud, battered by the rain and the dirt. It lay right by the side of the tent, and the fire would have caught it had he not scooped it up. It usually wasn’t his thing to pick up random objects off the ground, especially not chewed up kids’ toys (he wasn’t about to be the protagonist of some horror film), but something about it drew him to it. Probably his spidey senses acting up again. Not thinking much of it, he stuffed it into his pocket and ran.

Taehyun sprinted through the hellish landscape to catch up with his friends, racing against time as each tent fell after the last like dominoes. The voices were back again, the same ones that he thought had gone away ten years ago. But now, they were back, louder than ever. And they taunted,

Ring around the rosy

A pocketful of posies

Ashes, ashes

We all fall down!

The nursery rhyme continued on and on until its harmony subsided into dissonance. All the while, ashes rained down from the sky like snow until the ground was enveloped in a grey blanket.

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manggaetteokkie · 5 years ago

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The Untamed episode 39 - Brother knows best

Hello lovelies, I’m finally done moving and settling down after 27 hours of flight so here I am, back with my analysis ;) While I was stuck in the airport for 9 hours, waiting for my 2nd flight, I decided to rewatch some pre-finale episodes and that’s when I remembered this little goldmine of a moment happening in episode 39.

So while Lan Zhan and Wei Ying were trying to convince Lan Xichen that Meng Yao might be the perp behind everything, we suddenly hear a loud crash from the inn, where the disciples are supposed to be eating. We hear snippets of their conversation, with Jin Ling angrily sharing exactly what he thought about Wei Ying and his demonic cultivation, which the trio outside obviously hears. At this, Lan Zhan’s first reaction is to check Wei Ying’s reaction.

Upon noticing his rueful smile, Lan Zhan considers his next actions only for a brief second before clenching his jaw and setting off towards the inn with a determined look.

Wei Ying, predictably, tries to stop him and just as predictably, Lan Zhan ignores Wei Ying’s silent plea and continues on his path.

Having no other choice, Wei Ying can only shake his head before setting off after Lan Zhan, probably intending on calming him down (and reassuring him that he really was okay) if he takes things too far and ends up scarring the kids with his glare.

Little did he expect Lan Xichen to suddenly call him out using his real name. Lan Xichen offers a few words of consolation. Meanwhile, Wei Ying smiles again, admitting his loss: the Twin Jades of Gusu really were something else, uncovering his identity so quickly (although LZ still holds the record of fastest person).

Determinately, he turns around to face Lan Zhan’s brother.

Now, is any of this really supposed to be a surprise to Wei Ying? In my opinion, he should’ve figured it out purely based on what he’s personally seen from Lan Zhan! Given that we all know just how important that bond between the brothers is, how LXC basically knows LZ the best, are we really surprised?

I mean, Lan Zhan, the cold loner who barely looks at others when spoken to if he can get away with it, suddenly bringing another man to the Cloud Recess? The same Lan Zhan who’d seemingly always preferred solitude over company suddenly attached to the hip with some stranger called Mo Xuan Yu?

Does it make any sense?

Of course not, which is precisely when he starts to speculate. As much as Lan Xichen is a realistic that considers facts alone, he also knows his brother like the back of his hand, and for him, he can only start assuming the impossible to be possible. Perhaps MXY is actually the Yiling Patriarch?

That is partly why, when Wei Ying turns around and says, “It turns out that you had already recognized me... apologies for my previous rudeness”. Lan Xichen only smiles in response and says, “I only just confirmed it.”

Now, what exactly confirmed what was but mere speculations just seconds ago?

Why, Lan Zhan himself confirmed it of course!

How? The fact that he ignored all the conversation that had happened up until that point to rush inside and stop the disciples from continuing a line of conversation that clearly made WY uncomfortable says more about him than he’d probably care to let others know.

Lan Zhan, the ultimate immovable object, moved for the sake of shutting a few kids up. Does it make any sense for him to have done that for MXY? Of course not! The only person who could move Lan Zhan in a way no others have is Wei Ying and it has remained that way for the past 16 years.

Also, given that LXC had seen all that LZ had been through, he definitely knows how LZ had regretted not standing by Wei Ying’s side when he was all alone. I mean honestly, the words said by Jin Ling probably doesn’t even come close to some of the word Wei Ying had heard hurled his way during his time as the Yiling Patriarch, yet LZ was successfully set of.

It doesn’t matter to Lan Zhan though. To him, it doesn’t matter if he blows things out of proportion because as soon as WY is visibly affected by something, then whatever it is needs to be stopped at once.

Lan Xichen recognized that overprotectiveness that Lan Zhan only displays towards a certain someone, the certain someone that his little brother had been tirelessly searching for for, oh, only the past 13 years, put two and two together, and came up with his conclusion. With that, he now knows for sure exactly who the man behind the mask is. All of this without Lan Zhan telling his brother a single word, purely from what Lan Xichen knows about his little brother.

#the untamed #chen qing ling #陈情令 #wangxian #lan wangji #lan zhan #wei wuxian #wei ying #lan xichen #the untamed episode 39 #my post #my stuff

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something-tofightfor · 5 years ago

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Christmas in Wyoming: The First Christmas

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader

Word count: 6,591

Rating: NSFW.

Author’s Note: It’s a secret no more... this is in response to an ask I got from @the-blind-assassin-12 FOREVER ago about Christmas Day... but instead, I’m giving you Christmas Eve... for now. (You may wanna refresh yourself with the 5th part of CiW before reading this).

Merry Christmas (or happy holidays!) to you, whatever you choose to celebrate. Enjoy this little glimpse into Logan Delos getting the Christmas he deserves.

TAG LIST: (if you want to be added or removed, please let me know!)

General:

@the-blind-assassin-12 @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @obscurilicious @sweetybuzz25 @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @gollyderek @poindexted @ificouldhelpyouforget @elanor-of-imladris @thesandbeneathmytoes @luminex3 @geeksareunique @weallhaveadestiny @mfackenthal @thesumofmychoices @yannii04 @beautiful-thinking @drinix @agentlingerie @blah-blah-fuckit-shit @dreams-with-thoughts @wangmangagavroche @traeumerinwitzhelden

Logan Delos:

@nananananananananananabatman @damalseer @chibiyanai @life-is-a-melody @songtoyou

Uncategorized:

@banditthewriter @padfootagain @madamrogers @ethereal-heavcns @editboutique @marauderskeeper @ilkaeliseb @delicatelilyflower @king4thesirens @ymariejp @mr-robot-x @rageshots @introvertedlibrary @writing-for-a-chance @yesixoxo @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals @likeorions @swiftyhowlz @dylanobrusso @malik-payne @lynne1993 @ladyblablabla @dreamwritesimagines @audreychaz @tc-elliot @kind-wolf @honeyydippaa @binbonsadoration @ms-delos @jeanettexkillian @avengerswhore @elioelioeli0 @projectcampbell @giggleberts @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

You’d expected Logan to follow you into the bedroom that you were staying in, but he hadn’t, instead choosing to stay in the common room. You left him, standing in front of the piano bench, one arm up, his hand gripping the back of his neck. I can’t believe… You dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of thick socks and your boots before grabbing your coat before leaving the room again, heart pounding. But as you turned away from your door, you ran into someone, a low gasp leaving your lips. “Elle?” The woman was wrapped in a robe, hair pinned up and she blinked at you a few times before speaking.

“Where are…” Her eyes widened. “I…” Lips twitching into a smile, she gestured toward the common room. “I just saw Logan by the piano, is this…” Shit. Even as a grown woman, you didn’t want to talk to your aunt about your love life, but the woman didn’t wait for your answer, reaching up with her uninjured arm to squeeze your shoulder. “Breakfast starts at 9, don’t miss it.”

“But I need to help…” She shook her head. “Elle, I -”

“No.” She shook her head. “You don’t. Just go.” You paused for a single breath and then closed your eyes, nodding. “Merry Christmas, Kiddo.” Her words carried after you and you stepped quickly back to the common room, pulling your coat on. Logan was still waiting, his own coat back on, the hood pulled over his head.

“Thought you…” He laughed. “I figured you -” Shaking your head, you stepped forward, looking at him but unsure of what to say. “I don’t…” Logan trailed off, looking down. The room was silent around you, the only noises the rustling of your coats. “No.” He spoke again, looking back up and reaching out to take your hand. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Let’s go.” He pulled on your hand, leading you toward the front doors of the lodge and as he pulled them open, you sucked in a breath as the cold air hit your skin, snow swirling around you. “Jesus, it’s…” He laughed again as the two of you began walking across the parking lot, carefully picking your way through the drifting snow, Logan’s hand wrapped tightly around yours.

You made it to his small porch, Logan using his key to unlock the door before qstepping inside, you close behind. He finally dropped your hand, turning to face you, his eyes bright beneath the puffed hood of his jacket. You reached up, pushing it away from his face and his lips twitched into a smile. “You cold, Mr. Delos?” Logan nodded once - the movement small. “That’s how it is in Wy-”

“You’re gonna warm me up, though.” Logan’s hands were at your sides, pulling you closer to him. “I’m not worried about it.” He leaned down, kissing you again, but this one was more gentle than the last, Logan’s chilled lips pressed against yours briefly before he pulled away. “Let’s get you outta that coat.” He moved a hand from your hip, reaching up to grip the zipper of your jacket before sliding it down almost too slowly for you to handle. Logan, seriously, I don’t… you can’t… But you’d agreed to come to his cabin, knew what it meant, knew what you wanted… and so he could, and he was, and it was just something that you’d have to deal with. Logan finished with your jacket but made no move to push it off of your shoulders, instead taking a step back and unzipping his own jacket, shrugging it off and letting it fall to the floor. “Look.” Logan licked his lips, sniffing. “I’m not used to the…” He paused, closing his eyes. “It’s been a while since I was with someone that wasn’t…” Logan flinched. “Into the same things that I was, and so -” You cut him off, reaching out and curling your fingers into the material of his shirt, pulling him closer.

“Logan.” Quiet but firm, you spoke without thinking. “You don’t have to explain yourself. Don’t make this…” You paused, searching for the right word. “Don’t make this difficult.” He smiled at you, looking slightly relieved and you continued. “I don’t know you well, Logan Delos, but I know enough to know that this -” You gestured around you, hoping he understood. “Is all new for you.” You rose onto your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You don’t kiss people under the mistletoe.” Your lips traveled up, finding the corner of his eye. “You don’t get overwhelmed by the view from a mountaintop.” You sighed, his hands returning to your waist and figners digging in. “You don’t invite small town girls back to your place after knowing them for …”

“Hey.” He spoke again, the breath from his lips hitting yours, tone slightly disapproving. “Don’t talk about this place or yourself that way.” Logan’s lips touched yours. “I want you here.” He kissed you again, lingering for a few seconds, thumb moving against your skin over the material of your shirt. “This might be different for me, but…” He let out a breath. “I’m tryin’ to be different, and this is…” He pulled you closer, lips moving away from yours and down toward your jaw, followed after a few seconds by the gentle nip of his teeth. Hands still trapped between your bodies, you couldn’t do anything but let him continue, tilting your head to the side. “You’re…” Logan dropped his head against your shoulder, groaning. “This damn coat.”

Before you could say anything, Logan pushed you away from him, his hands moving up to your shoulders and pushing your coat down. You let go of his shirt and soon, your coat joined his on the floor. Still gotta get these boots off. Rather than saying anything, you bent down, quickly undoing the zippers on the sides of your boots and pulling them off, stepping away from the front door - and from Logan - into the living space of the Caboose, eyes landing on the fireplace, which was lit and crackling.

You’d been a guest in the cabins before, spending nights there with friends in your teens and early 20’s, even sneaking a boyfriend into one of them to make out while your aunt and uncle hadn’t been looking, but with your eyes on the dancing flames that bathed the room in a gentle glow, you found yourself frowning. You wanted to be there with Logan, but didn’t consider yourself impulsive. You’d never been a one night stand, never had any interest in being a part of a casual fling, and yet there you were, essentially having promised to go to bed with Logan Delos - one of the most wealthy and attractive bachelors in the world without knowing what the future held. But you want this. “Hey.” His voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you felt him moving behind you, his arms winding around your waist. “What’s wrong?” Tell him? Don’t tell him? I don’t know what to do.

“Logan.” You leaned back, unable to stop yourself and felt his hold on you tighten. “This might be different for you, but it’s…” You paused. “It’s different for me, too. I don’t want to be -” He stepped backwards, taking you with him, and the next thing you knew, you were sitting on the couch in Logan’s lap, his arms still around you and your legs tangled together. He whispered your name in your ear, but didn’t say anything else, and he simply waited, giving you a chance to think. “I’m not asking for a relationship, Logan. I’m not an idiot.” Deciding to go with the truth, you steeled yourself for what you needed to say. “And I want to sell to you no matter what, because Fireside is important to you, but I need to know that this isn’t…” You shifted on his lap, turning your head to face him. “You said that I was a surprise, but what does that mean, Logan? That you’re surprised that you like me as a person, or that you’re at least a little attracted to me, or -”

“I am very attracted to you, first of all.” You watched the flames dance in his darkened eyes as he spoke - no sign of him looking away, no hesitation. “You’re not just a one off.” He pressed his lips together. “That wouldn’t be fair. Not to me and not to you and not to… what I want for the future of this place.” You nodded, feeling a tightness in your chest release. “I already told you, you look at me differently than most people do, and that means… a lot.” Logan took a deep breath. “I can’t promise you that this is gonna…” Here it comes. “That I’m gonna…” Logan closed his eyes. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, done a lot of shit that I wish I could take back.” We all have, Logan. “But I can tell you that right now? This isn’t about Fireside. This isn’t about me wanting to fuck. This isn’t meaningless to me.” Logan coughed. “I haven’t had a good Christmas in a decade, and this is…” He averted his eyes, looking around the room and then brought them back to you. “You could tell me you just wanna spend the night here, with me, fully clothed and that’s fine.”

“Logan you…” He shook his head, squeezing your side.

“I just want to know what it feels like to wake up next to someone that doesn’t want anything from me.” His words hit you like a sledgehammer and you sucked a breath in, watching as he looked down, focused on your laps, where one of his hands was resting on your thigh and both of yours were holding onto his arm gently. “And I think that’s you.” Your heart felt like it was slamming against your ribs, and though you knew that you should have still been wary of him - he was Logan Delos, after all, and had likely said the same kinds of thing to many others before - No. He wouldn’t need to. The realization hit you hard and you sat straight up, head turning back to Logan. He wouldn’t need to convince anyone, all he’d need to do was smile at them, this… You stared at him, watching as his eyes searched your face, and though they were the same as they had been the last time you looked, you saw something else in them; an honesty that you knew was legitimate, a hope that couldn’t have been faked.

“Logan?” He narrowed his eyes, waiting. “Let’s go to bed.” Before he responded, you stood, reaching a hand out to him. “You look cold.” He stood and grinned at you, fingers curling around your wrist as he pulled you back against his chest quickly, holding you close. “C’mon, Delos.” You led the way down the short hallway, stopping in front of the bed and turning to completely face Logan, who’d stopped a few steps inside of the doorway. “I hope you have -” He nodded, pointing to the counter behind you, and you turned to see his wallet and keys atop it.

“Always carry, it’s a force of habit, and…” He chewed on his lower lip for a second. “And I’ve needed ‘em more than I’d like to admit to you.” You nodded, unwilling to let his past deter you and reached out to him again, this time with both hands. “Yeah?” You nodded, eyes locked on his and Logan stepped closer, smoothly turning you so that he was sitting on the bed and you were facing him. “Grab the wallet, that way…” You moved as he spoke, twisting at the waist to grip the smooth leather and lifted it, flipping it open before even thinking. Shit. There was a thick sheaf of bills inside, and your eyes landed on not only his driver’s license, but three credit cards - one of them a black American Express and another a bright white rectangle with an etched logo near the top- before he spoke again. “They’re behind the cash.” He paused. “I-” You reached in past the bills, fingers closing around the small packets and pulling them free before you reached back, dropping the wallet back onto the smooth surface. “Come here.”

You stepped toward Logan, thinking he would widen his stance, but instead he closed his legs, shaking his head. “What -” You held the condoms in one hand, using the other to reach for Logan’s shoulder as he motioned for you to lower yourself onto his lap, knees on either side of his thighs. He pulled the squares from your hand without speaking, dropping them unceremoniously onto the bed before he reached for your waist with both hands, fingers sliding under your shirt. Still careful of his injury, you rested your forearms on his shoulders and reached up, threading your fingers through his hair and pushing it away from his face. He watched you silently, hands sneaking up your sides, the palms resting against your ribs. “You’re being so patient, Logan,” you whispered. “Why?”

“I wanna remember this.” He wrinkled his nose. “No reason to rush, right? We’re not goin’ anywhere.” Leaning in, you rested your forehead against Logan’s, taking a deep breath. Whether or not Logan let his other partners take the lead was unknown to you, but he was giving you the opportunity to do so - and you didn’t want to waste it.

“I’ve heard, Logan,” you sighed, pulling gently on his hair. “That the best way to get warm up here…” You shifted on his lap, inching your body closer to his. “Where it’s really cold, is to have as much skin-to-skin contact as possible.” He groaned and you felt his head move up and down, hands sliding back down your sides. “You should probably help me t-” He was gripping the bottom hem of your shirt before you’d finished your sentence and you raised your arms from his shoulders, straightening up and waiting. Though warm in the room, you felt the change in temperature with every exposed inch of skin, and Logan’s eyes didn’t leave yours until they had to, the material sliding over your shoulders and down your arms smoothly. When you could see again, you fought not to react by covering your chest, knowing that there was nowhere else to hide - he could see you. “Lo-” Before even glancing down, Logan was kissing you again, one hand flat against the center of your bare back, the other one cupping your cheek as he pulled you toward him.

Losing yourself in the kiss, you barely registered the movement of his hand, fingertips trailing up and down your spine, the movement continuing even after he pulled back to breathe. “Your turn.” He dropped his hands from your body, just waiting, and you reached down, repeating his actions on you with his shirt. Logan’s breath hitched as you reached his shoulders, and he lowered his arms, helping you as much as he could. You tossed his shirt off to the side and after meeting his eyes again for a moment, you wet your lips and then looked down, eyes following the lines of defined muscles of his chest, and then, as they moved lower, his abdomen. You’d seen him shirtless when you surprised him with dinner, but something about having him so close, beneath you, waiting for your touch felt different, and though you wanted nothing more than to greedily move your hands over his skin, you held back, touching him cautiously. “Please.” His voice was strained, breath after it coming out in a hiss, and Logan grabbed your hands, bringing them to his stomach before he let them go. “All I want is to feel you touchin’ m-”

You wasted no more time, flattening your hands and feeling him lean back, one hand guiding you down with him and the fingers of the other twining in your hair as he pulled your face closer to his. He kissed you hard, and for the first time, you felt as if Logan wasn’t holding anything back. You felt everything - his hips jerking against yours, the grip of the hand on your back tightening, the way his tongue moved against yours, the smooth but firm muscle of his abdomen beneath your hands as you raked your nails over his skin - and it was almost overwhelming, but before you could focus on that, Logan was saying your name, calling you back to the present. “Logan, what…”

He let go of your hair, fingertips brushing against your forehead before they slid down your cheek. You could tell that his skin was flushed, could see the rise and fall of his chest, but you still didn’t know what he was going to say until he said it. “Can I…” He bit down on his lower lip, closing his eyes and shifting again beneath you. “Can I touch…” You nodded before he finished and it was the only affirmation he needed, Logan’s hands on your shoulders pushing you back upward and away from him before they slid down, his eyes following suit.

Logan’s hands were gentle as they reached their goal, thumbs brushing against your stiffened nipples first, followed by his palms and then his fingers, applying pressure to your chest that made you gasp. No one had touched you since Colin, and though it was unfair to compare the two, you found it hard not to. With Colin, even in the beginning, things had seemed familiar and easy, his touches exactly what you expected. Being with him hadn’t been exciting or unexpected, but it had been what you’d settled for, knowing that in Jackson Hole, your options were limited. But Logan’s touch - as limited as your experience with it was - was electric, his hands doing more to please you in a few seconds than you’d ever expected to feel from anyone, especially someone that was unfamiliar with your body. “Logan, you…” You arched your back, pushing yourself into his hands and were rewarded with another smile from beneath you, Logan mouthing the words ‘come here’ to you.

Leaning in, you prepared yourself for another kiss, but Logan surprised you by shaking his head. “No, not what I had in mind.” He let go of you, using both hands to shift your hips upward, and with surprise, you realized what was coming next. Knees on the edge of the bed, you used your elbows to brace yourself, fingers sliding beneath the back of Logan’s head and linking behind it, guiding him upward. He slid his hands between your bodies again, pushing your breasts together and before you could speak, his mouth was on you, lips pressed against the valley between the curves on your chest, beard scraping against the skin beneath it. His name left your lips in a low whine as he continued to taste your skin, turning his head to take a nipple between his lips and sucking, the warmth of his exhalations spreading across the places he’d dampened previously with his mouth.

If someone had told you only a few days earlier that you’d be in Logan’s cabin with him in the middle of the night - in his bed with him, his hands roaming your skin and lips and teeth discovering new places on you by the second, you would have laughed. Not Logan. Not with me. Never with me. But he’d chosen you, and even if it was only for the short term, even if things changed after the two of you were together, you wanted to be with him, too. He did. He’s here with me. Moving suddenly, you straightened up, your own hands releasing Logan’s hair and traveling over his shoulders and down his chest, fingers curled. You looked down at him, watching as thin red lines appeared on his chest, following the path your fingers were taking, but he didn’t seem bothered by the pressure you were applying, nor did he shy away. Hmm. “Tell me if it hurts, Logan, I don’t want to -” He hissed at your tone, which was lower than you thought it would be, and shook his head back and forth, dark hair standing out against the pillow.

“Gonna take more than your fingernails to hurt me, darlin’.” Logan licked his lips, and just as your hands stopped on his stomach, thumbs settled below his navel, he rocked his hips upward, hands going to your sides and holding you in place. “A hell of a lot more.” Logan cleared his throat and pushed down on your hips, raising an eyebrow. “Tell me what you want.” You dug your fingers in, staying silent as you thought. What do I want? “I can guess, but I wanna hear you say it.” You had no doubts that Logan had heard his fair share of dirty talk - men and women telling him absolutely filthy things, having no problem telling him what they wanted and how they wanted it, whispering things into his ears to spur him on, but your mind was blank.

“I…” You sucked in a breath, tilting your head back. “I don’t know, Logan, this is happening so…” He said your name. “... fast.” He was still holding onto you, but Logan sat up and you adjusted your position, balancing on your knees as he took a deep breath.

“I got you.” He spoke clearly, looking into your eyes. “I promise you, I…” Logan’s hands dropped, pushing the elastic of your pajama pants down and exposing more of your body, hands warm against it. “I’ll…” He leaned in, mouth again finding your skin, this time near your collarbone, where it lingered for long seconds before moving outward and toward your shoulder. “Gotta get these off,” he murmured the words against your shoulder, tongue darting out as his hands worked your pants down further. “Up.” You moved without thinking, rising back onto your knees and then scooting back, planting your feet on the ground and reaching down since you were just out of Logan’s reach. He shook his head, looking up at you through his eyelashes. “No.” One hand had shot out, fingers circling your wrist and squeezing. “No, I’ll do that.”

Unwilling to tell him no, you waited as Logan used both hands to push your pajamas down - his eyes, this time, focused on your midsection. Once they were down low enough, you stepped out of the flannel pants, using your right foot to kick them away from you. You stood in front of logan in only a pair of underwear, and before you could say anything but his name, Logan’s fingers were running up the backs of your thighs, stopping only when the tips of them slid beneath the elastic of your underwear, pulling you toward him again. He kissed your stomach, fingers flexing, and you reached up, running your fingers through his hair again and relishing the feel of it slipping between your fingers. How did we get here? You played with his hair for a few moments and then took a deep breath. I don’t want to rush this, but we’ve only got so long to sleep, and…

“Logan?” He stopped moving, peering up at you, and you smiled down at him, swallowing. “As much as I want to prolong this because you’re…” You stuck your tongue between your teeth, watching his expression. “... I’m gonna need you to grab one of those condoms and take your pants off.” You tugged on his hair, forcing his head back slightly. “I’ve got presents to open in a few hours.” The room went silent for long seconds and you worried that you’d upset him, but you watched as a smile spread across his face, his cheeks going round and his eyes lighting up before he let out a laugh, nodding.

“Alright.” He moved quickly, pulling his hands away from you and wrapping his arms around your thighs to lift you as he stood, your laugh loud, too, in the small room as your arms went around his neck to steady yourself. Logan turned the two of you before he loosened his grip on you enough to let you slide down until your toes hit the floor and then his arms tightened again, his head ducking down. “You got it.” Logan kissed you hard, distracting you to the point that you didn’t even realize he’d pushed your underwear down until it hit the tops of your feet and you gasped in surprise. So sneaky. “Let me…” He let out a breath. “Get rid of these.” You looked down as he moved his hands to his waist, the plaid material slipping down his legs along with whatever he had on beneath them and exposing him to you.

You wanted to mirror his restraint but couldn’t help sneaking a glance downward, eyes widening slightly as you took the sight of him in. Oh. That’s… something. Heart beating wildly, you felt your chin being tilted upward by one of Logan’s fingers until your eyes locked. He gave you a small nod, one side of his mouth raised in a smirk. You know exactly what you’re doing.

“Lay down.” He rubbed a thumb over your lips. “C’mon, you wanted me to get goin’, so…” He leaned in, the nail of his thumb catching on your lower lip and dragging it downward slightly. “Lay. Down.” He used his other hand to push you away from him, the backs of your knees hitting the foot of the bed as you sat, the comforter cool against your skin. Easing back onto the bed you laid back, resting on your elbows as Logan looked down at you, finally letting his eyes roam over your entire body. “Never woulda thought…” He smiled at you as he leaned down, one hand gripping your calf, his lips finding your bent knee as he eased into the bed with you. “That you’d look like this under all that…” His lips traveled up your thigh as he pulled your leg down, straightening it. “All those layers…” Smiling, you reached up, fingers moving through his hair again as Logan’s mouth hovered over your hip. “And I get to see it.” Your fingers tightened in his hair as his head dipped, but it wasn’t his lips against your hip bone; you felt his teeth scraping against the thin skin, a gasp leaving your mouth at the sensation. “And feel it.” He continued moving upward, positioning himself above you, your hand moving from his head to his shoulder. “And enjoy it.” He smiled down at you, eyes moving over your face and the hand on the arm that wasn’t propping him up resting against your neck.

“You better, Delos.” You smirked up at him, fighting to get the words out without your voice shaking. “You’re not so bad you-” He kissed you again, his hair falling over your forehead, the hand on your neck flexing, his hips thrusting gently against yours as he lowered his body. Touch him, he’d like that. Somehow, through the kiss and Logan’s touch against your skin, you formed a thought, but even as you moved your hand to make it a reality, he shook his head, the scratch of his beard on your cheek drawing all of your attention. “Logan, what…”

“You touch me now, and there’s gonna be nothing at all quick about this.” He spoke into your ear, voice low. “You let me do all the work this time, alright?” You managed a nod, Logan dropping a kiss against your bare shoulder as he reached over with one hand, groping on the blanket for the condoms. “Plenty of time for…” He groaned as your hands gripped his hips, pulling them closer to your own. “What are you…”

“Logan, I want…” You shook your own head, unsure of what you were trying to say, but completely sure that you wanted him closer. “Just…” He sat straight up, kneeling over you and looking down, a long lock of hair curled over his eye. The tip of his tongue poked out between his lips, but after only a few seconds, your attention was drawn to the movement of his hands - one of them tearing open the small packet, the other gripping himself, moving slowly up and down as he watched you. “So you get to…”

“Yes.” He ignored the slight whine in your voice, eyes dark and locked on you. “I do.” He stroked himself twice more and then let out a breath. “You know what…” He reached out with his other hand, holding the condom out to you. “Here.” Your eyebrows rose, eyes returning to his face. “Yes. I need to know what…” You didn’t need to be told twice as you took the rubber from his hand, eyes going back to his waist. Just a… not too… You wrapped your fingers around him, hand brushing against his before he pulled his own away, his hands going back to his own thighs and sighed as you felt him against your palm - warm and solid. “Squeeze a li-” Your grip tightened as you moved your hand, focused on what you were doing and almost unwilling to do what you needed to by covering him with the condom. Almost. You squeezed twice more - at the tip and at the base and then used your other hand to roll the condom over his length, ensuring that it was properly applied before you brought your eyes back to his, expecting to see him watching you, but Logan’s eyes were closed, his lips parted and his head tilted slightly backward. That’s trust. He didn’t know you well, didn’t know what you’d do or what you wanted from him, but he was losing himself in the moment, in you and you immediately felt more endeared to him.

“Logan.” You said his name quietly, lifting yourself into a sitting position and trailing your fingertips against his cheek, your other hand still wrapped around him, fingers flexing. “You ready, I -” He nodded, eyes flying open and after a quick glance down at his waist, he looked back at you, eyes full of fire.

“Are you ready?” He kissed you hard on the mouth, teeth nipping at your lip. “I made you wait… let’s not do that anymore.” His hand was back at your neck, fingers closing around it but not squeezing as he pushed you backward and away from him, maneuvering you so that you were flat on your back again. “Let’s see…” He reached between you, dragging a fingertip down your abdomen as you bit down on your lower lip and fought the urge to raise your hips. It traveled lower still, slipping between your legs and though he didn’t look away, you saw Logan’s eyes light up as he felt just how ready you were, the finger sliding into you and curling slightly before he removed it.

He shifted, pushing your legs apart and changing his stance so that he had better leverage above you, and even though you wanted to watch his face, you couldn’t help averting your gaze to where your bodies would connect, watching as he guided himself into place, taking a deep breath. You bent the knee that was on the outside of his legs, using your hands to grip the blankets in preparation, and with one small thrust of his hips, Logan was inside you. “Oh, fuck.” The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, and he pulled back slightly before thrusting again, this time pushing in completely.

Seeing him and feeling him were two entirely different things, and as you and Logan found your rhythm together, him lowering his body back down onto yours without losing the momentum he’d gained, you tried not to lose yourself. You’d thought you were prepared for Logan, thought being with him would be more exciting than with anyone else, but hadn’t expected for it to feel like he was totally comfortable with you and knew your body like you’d been together for years. You didn’t know if it was his confidence or the level of attraction you felt to him, but each meeting of your hips and quiet gasp didn’t feel new, it felt practiced. He didn’t return his lips to yours, instead focused on leaving kisses and bites across your chest and neck, always careful not to be so rough as to leave marks, and you dug your fingers and nails into his skin, trying to o the same. “S’ok,” he groaned out, changing the angle of his hips slightly. “It’ll be covered with my shirt, you can… fuck.” You tightened your grip with his words, also lifting your leg to hook it around his hip, pulling him deeper into you. “Goddamn, you know… fuck that feels…” He grunted out your name, pulling your head to the side by your hair and you hummed at the feeling, never wanting it to end.

“Lo...Logan.” You reached up to grip his hair, pulling hard on it and drawing his attention back to your face. “You feel…” He grinned, nodding. “I wa…”

“Stop talkin’.” He finally lowered his face to yours again, shaking his head back and forth. “An’ kiss me.” You did - beginning the kiss with an already open mouth, surprised by the fact that his was the same, tongue quickly slipping past your lips and into your mouth. He changed his speed, slowing his movements down so that you could feel every inch of him inside of you, but quickly, you realized that he knew what he was doing, coaxing more of a reaction out of you - both via your mouth and below the waist, and though you’d never been with him before, you could feel the changes in him too, the tightening of his muscles, the slight curl of his upper lip, even as he kissed you. Yes, Logan. Please.

With one final thrust, Logan’s hips stuttered and you felt his body tense, an added heat inside of you as his hands gripped your shoulders tightly. It took you by surprise, but not the same type of surprise you felt as he continued to move after only a few seconds, panting out short breaths as he resumed his movements - one hand tightly holding onto your hip. He nearly growled your name on his final stroke, sending you tipping over the edge, eyes squeezing shut and your hands going limp against the sheets beneath you. As you came down, you realized that Logan had nearly collapsed on top of you, only moving enough to be sure that his entire weight wouldn’t crush you beneath him. Wow.

Neither of you spoke as you caught your breath, but you could feel his heart beating through his chest, feel the effort it was taking him to catch his breath. His grip on you had loosened, but one finger was still moving over the skin of your hip - not in a pattern, just moving, and you took as deep a breath as you could manage, deciding that no matter what happened next, you were going to enjoy the rest of the night. Unless he asks you to leave. Despite what had just happened between the two of you, you realized that you still didn’t know what came next, what Logan would want. What do I want?

You wanted to stay - wanted to fall asleep and wake up next to Logan, wrapped in blankets and sheets that smelled like the two of you, to see his face when you opened your eyes, to hear him tell you good morning in a sleep-filled voice. “Logan?” He mumbled your name, face buried in the side of your neck, and you brought a hand up, running your fingers through his hair, lingering at the nape of his neck. I don’t want him to move. It went quiet again, both of you still moving your hands slowly, and you turned your head toward his, closing your eyes as you inhaled the scent of his hair. I can’t get used to this. “Logan, we gotta clean up, we -”

“I know.” He raised his head slightly, looking up at you. “But I don’t want to move.” He grinned at you, and the sincerity behind the expression took your breath away. “What?” He furrowed his brow, waiting. “What did I say.” You shook your head, and Logan shifted his body, sliding out of you. He busied himself removing the condom and wrapping it in a kleenex before he tossed it into the trash and looked back at you. “Talk to me.” You looked up at Logan, shaking your head. “Wait.” He leaned over, reaching into his suitcase and grabbing a shirt. “Go get cleaned up, and then…” He handed you the material - soft and black, nodding. “Come back here and we can talk.” You put the shirt on and then pushed out of bed, making your way into the bathroom where you used the time alone to compose yourself while you wiped at your skin with a washcloth. What happens now? What do we… What… he… Thoughts jumbled, you didn’t want to keep Logan waiting, and so you exited the bathroom, surprised to run into him, dressed in a pair of pants. “Pulled the old comforter off the bed and grabbed another one from the closet… I’ll be right back.” He pushed past you into the bathroom and after standing frozen in place for a few seconds, you turned and walked back into the bedroom, climbing back into bed and pulling the blanket over your lap. Logan took less time than you had in the bathroom, and when he slid back into the bed next to you, you took a deep breath, ready to speak. “Tell me what’s wrong. Was that -”

“No, Logan, it’s...” You closed your eyes, shaking your head. “I didn’t want to assume I’d be staying, I -” You swallowed. “I don’t know what you’re used t-”

“Hey.” He said your name with a quiet force and you couldn’t help looking over at him. “What I’m used to doesn’t matter.” He reached out, taking your chin between two fingers and holding your face in place. “You’re staying - as long as that’s what you want.” He leaned in, lips pressing against yours briefly. “I want you to stay.” That was all it took, and you nodded, laying back and stretching your legs out beneath the blanket. “Yeah?” You nodded again, head resting against the pillow as he settled in next to you, pulling the blanket over himself, too. “We can talk about why you thought I’d…” He swallowed. “Want you to leave later, but it’s really late.” He turned on his side, rolling toward you and reaching out with one hand to stroke your hair, fighting to keep the smile off of his face. “And if you don’t get to sleep, I don’t think Santa’s going to st-” Scoffing, you reached over, pushing on his chest, and in one swift movement, Logan rolled onto his back, pulling you with him.

Resting on his chest with one of his arms around your waist and the other draped across your upper back, both of your hands pressed flat against his chest, you laughed, shaking your head. “You’re right, Logan. We do need sleep.” Deciding not to think through it, not to second guess it, you lowered your head, pausing before you met his lips with your own. “Merry Christmas, Logan Delos.”

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