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lancermylove · 3 years

Text

Too Late (Oneshot)

Fandom: MLQC

Pairing: Victor x fem!Reader

Warning: MAJOR angst, reader’s death, mention of blood

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Can i get a oneshot of victor

Word Count: 2,158

A/N: The reader is looking back on past event and reflecting, so flashbacks (italicized text) are in narrator’s POV, while the present (reg text) is in the reader’s POV.

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Since childhood, I have always stood by his side and took care of him. Whenever people saw the two of us interacting, they immediately assumed we were a couple. Even the employees at LFG gossiped about us, saying that I was Victor's lady but he wanted to keep our relationship a secret.

Without knocking on the door, you walked into Victor's office, holding a collection of shopping bags. "Hi, Victor. Let me guess you forgot to eat lunch?"

The CEO shifted his attention from the computer screen to you and examined the bags. "Someone had a lot of free time today. Did you purchase the entire mall?"

"Wait, can I buy the whole mall?" You playfully asked while carefully setting the paper bags on the couch.

"If you plan to, warn me ahead of time," the CEO chuckled, removing his reading glasses and setting them on a stack of unsigned papers. He sighed quietly and rubbed his eyes with his right index finger and thumb.

"Why do you take so much stress?" You walked behind his chair, wrapped your arms around his shoulder, and pressed your lips on the side of his head. The subtle scent of his shampoo tickled your nose. "I know you're the CEO, but Vic, you need to rest once in a while."

"I'm fine, (Y/N)," Victor delicately touched one of your arms and whispered, "you worry too much."

"If I won't worry, then who will?" You giggled, resting your forehead against the side of his head. "Now, let's eat! I'm starving."

“You have not had lunch yet?” The raven-haired man inquired in a concerned voice, raising an eyebrow.

“How could I eat lunch knowing you haven’t eaten yet?”

Victor was aware of my feelings for him; he had known for years that I loved him, so why were his eyes only for her? She had done nothing for him and only caused him trouble, so why? No matter how much time I spent with him, his mind was preoccupied with her. Even on my special day, he was with her.

You waited on the sofa wearing his favorite black, backless dress with a pearl shoulder necklace. Every few seconds, your eyes shifted between the main door and your cellphone. You told yourself that he will walk in or call you any minute. You made excuses to appease your restless mind.

"There must be a lot of traffic, or maybe, he is stuck in a meeting. What if he is planning a big surprise for me?"

Seconds, minutes, and hours ticked by, but there was no sign of Victor. You spent your entire birthday waiting for him, but he never showed up.

The sound of a loud knock forced your heavy, bloodshot eyes to open. Even after the events of the previous day, only one name escaped your lips, "Victor?"

You rose from the sofa and hurried to the door in hopes of seeing your love; instead, you found a shimmer blue present sitting on your doorstep with a purple envelope on top. Picking up the box, you closed the door and dragged your heavy body back to the living room. As soon as you bent down to set the present on the center table, you caught a glimpse of yourself in a nearby mirror. Your cheeks were stained by your dark mascara and eyeliner, your red lipstick smudged past your lips, and your hair was disheveled.

"What a mess..." you mumbled under your breath and averted your eyes.

You carefully opened the envelope and pulled out an elegant ivory-colored birthday card. He apologized to you multiple times, but your eyes repeatedly darted back to one sentence: I had to attend to an urgent matter.

"Urgent matter...right," you snickered and hung your head, feeling a strong burning sensation in your eyes once again.

He apologized many times, and I didn't want to forgive him, but my heart refused to cooperate. Did he forget the promise he made to me when we were kids?

“I promise to always spend your birthday with you, no matter what! I will always find a way to come see you on your birthday.”

I remember how happy I was hearing those words on a clear, sunny day in our favorite park. The words that I held close to my heart seemed like nothing but an empty promise from him. I didn't want to forgive him, but in the matter of the mind and heart, the heart somehow always emerges as the victor.

Then came the day where she broke his heart and went to another man. Despite everything, I opened my arms for him and stood firmly by his side. I even stayed with him in his home to make sure he didn't take stress or overwork himself more than usual. As if blessing me for my good deeds, Victor slowly started to open up to me.

"Why are you still awake? It's 4 am, and you have a meeting at 8 am." You groggily stepped into Victor's bedroom, rubbing your sleep-filled eyes.

"I am almost done with this report. Why are you awake?" He asked with his eyes still on the stack of papers in his hand.

"A nightmare woke me up...so I thought to check on you."

Victor momentarily glanced at you before setting the report down on the nightstand. He stretched out a hand towards you and gently whispered, "Come here."

Wordlessly, you stepped closer to him and took a hold of his warm, large hand. Victor helped you onto his bed and pulled a gray cotton blanket over your body.

"Sleep here for tonight."

He turned off the light and settled down on the mattress, facing you. Victor ran his long fingers through your hair in an attempt to help you fall asleep. In all the years you knew him, never once had Victor touched you in such a tender manner.

At that moment, I started to think everything was working in my favor, and life was finally smiling at me. But who was I kidding? Once again, she came back and ruined my life.

"I am sorry, Victor," she hid her face in her hands and sobbed, "I shouldn't have left you. Please, forgive me."

You stood a few feet away watching her cry as Victor comforted her. Then she said the words you prayed she wouldn't. "Please, give me a second chance."

Victor hesitated for a while but eventually gave a small nod, "Fine. Will you stop crying now, dummy?"

A sharp pain shot through your chest as you felt your heart shatter to pieces. Blinking rapidly, you tried to fight back the tears clouding your eyes in vain. You covered your mouth to prevent any sounds from escaping and backed away, step-by-step, your eyes fixed on the back of his head.

Victor snapped his head towards you when he heard your footsteps retreating in a hurry. He stared with wide eyes for a second before squeezing his eyes shut. The corners of his lips tugged down as his head lowered.

I loved him to no end, but why couldn't he see it? Why did he always favor her over me? Was I truly that...worthless? To add to this pain, my family started to pressurize me into marriage, but I refused. I told them my heart only belong to one man, but they didn't listen. Unfortunately, I only had one person to turn to for comfort, so I ran to into his arms and cried my heart.

"I don't want to marry a random man," you cried in his chest, "but they won't stop pressurizing me. What do I do?"

Victor's muscles stiffened at hearing the word 'marriage'. He silently exhaled, placing one hand on the back of your head while wrapping the other around your waist.

You waited for him to say something, anything, but he remained quiet. His silence made your world crumble, and the little hope you had left diminished.

Why didn’t he say anything? Did my pain not affect him, or did he not care? They kept pushing me even more after that, and ultimately gave me a final warning, marry Victor or marry the man they chose for me. My family's only goal was to help their sinking business by finding a rich husband for me. I went to him yet again and broke down completely.

You kneeled in the middle of his office and hung your head low, letting tears drop onto the black tiles beneath you. The coolness in the tiles seeped into your otherwise burning body. "Why are they trying to ruin my life?"

Victor kneeled in front of you and rubbed soothing circles on your upper back.

"Victor, please do something," you bawled in desperation, knowing that he had the power to change the outcome. He averted his eyes from your crying form and stared at the fireplace, his jaw clenching tighter and tighter.

You lent me a shoulder to cry on, but why didn't you say anything? That day I left your office empty-handed and angry - not angry at him, but myself for thinking he would help me.

Then came the day of my forced marriage to a man who I hadn't even seen. From the new reports, I knew Victor was in a different country for a global conference, but I still didn't lose hope. Why was I so foolish? Why did I think he would walk in at any moment and rescue me like a fairytale prince on a white stallion? I waited and waited, but he never came. I should have expected this, but I was such a fool.

Days and months passed but Victor never contacted me, not even to ask if I was okay. Would I have told him the truth if he called to ask? Would I have told him that my husband doesn't care about the marriage or me? That my marriage was completely meaningless. That my dear husband hadn't even kissed me once, let alone touch me. That I was glad he wasn’t interested me because I only dreamed of kissing only one man. That I hate everything, everyone, and was reaching my limit.

I stared at the pearl-like raindrops rolling down the bedroom window and forced a chuckle. It was comforting to know that at least nature cared about me. Was nature crying for me? I tilted my head to look at the cellphone beside me and stared at the black screen. What was I hoping for? He didn't care back then, he still doesn't care, and he won't care tomorrow. Not a single person in my life cares, which I guess is good, considering that no one will be sad. My husband will find some other woman, my family has their prospering business, and Victor has her.

"Well, l-looks like it's almost time." I turned my head to look at the rain one last time as my vision began to blur. Within seconds, my head began to spin. Probably from the blood draining out of the cuts on my wrist.

"G-Goodbye, V-Victor...I hope you're always happy."

As soon as those words escaped my lips, I felt like laughing at myself for still being a fool. Even in my final moments, I couldn't stop thinking of him.

------

The raindrops continuously fell from the sky, each drop hitting the ground with a loud thud. Goldman followed Victor from a safe distance, curious to find out where the CEO was headed. The secretary nearly lost his footing when he saw his boss walk into a cemetery. He hid behind a tree close to the grave and quietly watched his employer.

Victor crouched down in front of a black granite stone slab and gently placed a bouquet of white camellias on it.

"Hey," he whispered in an exhausted voice as he brushed his fingertips on the rain-drenched stone slab. Goldman watched as Victor lowered his head and rested the flat of his right palm on the grave.

"Forgive me for not visiting for a few days...I was out of the country." Victor blinked his eyes rapidly and forced the corners of his lips up. "I...ate lunch already and..."

Goldman's eyes widened when he heard his boss sniffle. He leaned a little closer to make sure his imagination was not getting the better of him.

"(Y/N), h-happy birt-" Victor choked on his words and squeezed his eyes shut. He took a few moments to gather himself before standing up and trudging towards the exit.

The secretary studied his boss's slumped shoulders and heavy footsteps in confusion. As soon as Victor disappeared out of sight, Goldman carefully walked to the black granite slab and followed the bouquet up to the tombstone.

"Let's see...," he adjusted his glasses and read the words inscribed on the gravestone, "To all those reading this, tell the person you love your feelings before it's too late and all that's left is regret."

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➣ MLQC Masterlist ➣ Buy me a Ko-fi or Commission?

#mr love victor #mlqc #mlqc victor #victor x reader

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onmykneesforhotdilfs · 3 years

Note

Could you do 7 and 11 for sparxshipping fluff, please? Also, I love your blog ❤️

7. "I am right here."

11. "You made me a better person."

Valtor jumped up in bed, his hands stretched out forward in a grabbing motion, as he continued to take in large gulps of air in order to slow his heartbeat down to normal. He swallowed nervously and inhaled a large amount of air, counted to ten, and then exhaled through his mouth. He continued this process until he felt confident enough he won't pass out if he left the bed. He closed his eyes and bailed his hands into fists, his short nails digging into his palms, pain sobering him up.

He sighed and turned his head to the side where he felt movement. Bloom was laying on her side, her leg thrown over both of his, her hands stretching forward where his body was mere minutes ago and fisting his pillow before she snatched it and hugged it, inhaling the scent as she buried her head into it. Valtor looked away and bit his lip.

He rubbed his hands over his face as he exhaled shakily into them. A sudden flow of some rather unfamiliar emotions caused his breath to hitch as moisture gathered in his eyes. Valtor could count on one hand number of times he had cried during his long life. The times he cried in front of someone else was even smaller. In fact, he recalled only one such incident. A resurfacing memory pushed even more tears into his eyes and he was powerless to stop them. He buried his face in his hands as his shoulders shook with silent sobs.

The recollection of his vivid nightmare that triggered the potential emotional landslide forced him to gently grip Bloom's knee and remove it from his legs so he could slide out of bed unnoticed. He bit his lip almost to the point of bleeding and gripped the sheets on the bed as he sat on the edge while trying to control his breathing. He turned towards Bloom, whose shirt has risen up completely exposing her stomach, in order to convince himself that flashing images from his nightmare were just a product of his overactive imagination. He wiped the tears from his face and dragged the edge of blanket over Bloom's small frame, tucking the edge of it near her neck and therefore covering all the patches of naked skin, shielding her from chilly night air. He bent down and removed a fiery strand from her face as he pressed a lingering kiss on her temple.

Valtor opened the doors leading to the adjoined balcony and stepped into the cold night air. The wind ruffled up his already tangled, sweaty hair and he felt goosebumps appear on his arms and torso. Days on Domino were warm but nights at this time of the year were pretty chilly and sometimes outright cold. This was one of the cold nights. Valtor placed his forearms on the railing and leaned his whole body onto it. It creaked but showed no signs of breaking and caving in under his weight. He lifted up his head and focused his gaze on finding constellations. He named all the stars he recognized and focused on those that he didn't know, mentally putting a little checkmark on the file 'refresh your memory on constellations and stars'.

He was so focused on pushing the memory of nightmare away he didn't hear soft footsteps behind him. Bloom's tired voice snapped him out of his trance. "It's a bit late for stargazing isn't it?" Valtor turned towards her, his hair hitting him in the face from a combined force of a sudden movement and wind. He raised his hands in an effort to remove the strands that managed to crawl into his mouth. He heard Bloom's quiet laugh at his, weirdly enough, nervous antics. She seemed to recognize his actions as something out of the ordinary as well,her brows creating a frown. "What's wrong?" Valtor shook his head and lowered his gaze and that seemed to agitate her worry even more so she took a few steps closer to him, reducing the distance to only 30 centimeters.

"Nothing." His voice cracked. "Nothing is wrong." This one he spoke without any tremors but he wanted to kick himself because he allowed his weakness to show in the first place. Bloom obviously didn't buy his excuses and took another step forward as her hand came to cup his face and he flinched. The flinch was a dead giveaway because Bloom spoke his name with such pity he wanted to simply crawl into a hole and never come out.

"Valtor look at me..." she cupped his face in both hands when he refused to comply with her request. "Please," she whispered, "look at me."

She gasped when he raised his eyes, undoubtedly red rimmed from a crying fit he had earlier, to meet her worried blue ones and Valtor felt another fresh batch of tears rushing to his eyes. Bloom opened her mouth to say something but Valtor beat her to it as his own hands came to grip her wrists. "I'm alright. Don't worry." He kissed her palms and squeezed his eyes closed as he forced himself to not cry this time.

"You're not alright, you're crying Valtor, I've... I've never seen you cry." She whispered the last part almost as if she wasn't sure if what she was saying is real or just a hallucination and a trick of light. Valtor chuckled. "Don't laugh..." she hit his chest, "I didn't even know it was possible."

"I can cry Bloom. I just choose not to... or I just don't cry that often." He smiled at her when the tears finally dried up behind his closed eyelids and he was able to look at her without the fear of his dignity diminishing even more. He sighed. "It was just a nightmare, nothing more. They don't usually provoke such emotional response from me, but I suspect my tendency to bottle things up more than I let them out lead to this... emotional episode."

Bloom listened with bated breath not daring to make a sound in fear of making Valtor put up his shields again. When he finished his explanation and she saw his shoulders relaxing she allowed herself to breathe again. Valtor was still holding her wrists in his hands and Bloom flattened her palms so they once again framed his face as she stepped even closer to him so the distance between their bodies now became zero. She stood on her tip toes and brushed her lips against his in the gentlest kiss they even shared. She trailed kisses that were no more than brush of lips against skin all the way to his ear, when she dropped down to the soles of her feet, dragging him down in the process as he let out a noise of surprise at her actions. She threw her hands, finally free, around his neck and broad shoulders and hugged him tightly. "You don't have to go through this alone." She whispered. "I am right here."

Valtor buried his nose in her shoulder and his arms wrapped around her waist as he crushed her against his chest. He placed a kiss on her naked collarbone and trailed a path of kisses, similar to her own only a bit rougher, all the way to her lips where he captured them in a long and passionate dance. They broke the kiss simultaneously and Valtor rubbed his nose against hers in an eskimo kiss. "I don't tell you this enough, I know that, and I know I should tell you this more often but... You made me a better person. And you're continuing to do so every day."

Bloom's lower lip quivered and she buried her head in his chest as she slapped his arm. "Idiot... look what you've done, now you're gonna make me cry."

He chuckled. "How do I make you feel better then?"

"Say things like that to me more often. As it is, I'm too unaccustomed to words of praise from you that aren't sarcasm."

Valtor laughed and kissed her head. Another cold gust of wind swept by and Valtor felt Bloom shiver in his arms. And then he remembered what she was wearing when he left her. He frowned. "Bloom?" He asked.

"Hmmm?"

"Why are you wearing that thin shirt and almost next to nothing shorts? Can't you feel it's too cold for it?"

Bloom snorted. "Sorry dad, next time I will be more careful."

Valtor's eyes narrowed. "Who are you calling dad? Are you trying to say I'm old?"

"Valtor you are old."

"Oh that's IT!" Bloom screamed as Valtor took her in a fireman carry and slapped her on the butt. "I'll show you who is old." She giggled when she heard him grumble. But that giggle was quickly replaced by a gasp as Valtor threw her on the bed and the doors slammed behind them leaving all the bad feelings to be frozen and swept away by the winds in the cold night on a once forgotten planet.

#bloom #winx club #baltor x bloom #bloom x baltor #bloom x valtor #sparxshipping #valtor #valtor x bloom #winx #sparxshipping prompts #sparxshipping requests #sparxshipping questions #sparxshipping fluff

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beeexx · 3 years

Text

Fic: Autumn

4 tattoos on TK’s body, 4 stories set over each of the 4 season. Carlos and TK grow closer.

Read part one here or read the whole thing on ao3, see the end notes there for more of my comments.

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It’s been raining on and off for weeks now, the humidity thick in the air, mixing badly with the chillier temperatures in the mornings and evenings, the sky looking a lot like someone’s taken a paintbrush to it and permanently painted it a depressing colour of grey that’s never going to disappear. Carlos is either constantly overdressed or underdressed and the uncertainty of the days, the constant rain, and the stress he’s been under for a few weeks now has made him extremely tired.

Which is why he and TK’s had a fight. They don’t often do this, Carlos has the patience of a saint, he knows this, Owen’s told him that on numerous occasions when TK’s been a little difficult and Owen’s been struggling to not lose his own temper, even TK’s gratefully expressed that too on a few occasions. So yes, he is very aware of how calm and patient he can be. But today Carlos has had a bad day at work and he’s tired and it’s just his luck that today of all days clashes with one of TK’s bad days, where he is anxious and too wrapped up in his own head to really be able to read signals.

Carlos doesn’t fault TK for this, of course not, but when his boyfriend is being uncooperative and uncommunicative, and not having had the strength to not drink that fourth cup of coffee today, their moods are doomed to clash. And it turns into a fight over something really stupid that causes TK to slam the bedroom door shut and for Carlos to kind of want to cry as it rattles on its hinges, that’s how much he feels that everything is too much right now.

He’s bent over the stove, staring angrily at the uncooked chicken in the pan and wishes he could set it on fire or something, that would maybe make him feel fractionally better. Carlos really doesn’t want to fight, and he really doesn’t want to fight with TK, but even he has bad days where all signals go straight over the other one’s head and the answer ‘I’m fine’ with a foot bouncing unrelentlessly while hanging off the chair with a nose in phone, means that TK is definitely not fine, sometimes that doesn’t always translate for Carlos. Particularly not on a day like this.

He knows most of the signs and tells when TK is anxious, has been through one anxiety attack triggered by a nightmare with him where he might have remained totally collected on the outside while on the inside his heart broke in two because his boyfriend was on the floor telling him he couldn’t breathe and that image is doomed to haunt him for a long time. It was scary, but he’s seen panic before and he recognized the signs immediately and they talked through it afterwards and moved past it, well adjusted to deal with it in the future.

And TK isn’t selfish, he’s pretty good at reading Carlos’ in return, but not on the days where Carlos is strung so tightly he could snap in half due to days full of picking kids up from places where their parents are fighting with fists, bloody from the violence and almost always on something while the kids are hiding, their faces blank without tears because they’ve been through it too many times by then to know it doesn’t help. He doesn’t know what’s worse, that they’ve seen too much of this already, that it’s become so normalised for them they’ve already accepted it, or when they see it for the first time and Carlos is forced to gather them up in his arms, talk to them or sing to distract from the vicious yelling from the other room while child services are being called and the parents are dragged away in handcuffs screaming bloody murder. Yeah, sometimes he hates his job.

So, it’s been a bad day and coming home to a TK that is a nervous ball of tightly strung energy too, is not a good combination.

Carlos exhales, feels absolutely exhausted by now and he’s honestly ready to just go to sleep on the couch and forget about everything. He hears the bedroom door open, prepares himself for some short clipped words from TK informing him that he’s going home to his dad to sleep, instead, and this goes to show how upset and distracted he is, when TK steps in close and wraps his arms around him instead. He freezes for a moment, rendered shocked before he snaps out of it, covering TK’s hands with his own.

He’s about to turn around so he can hug back for real when he feels TK’s arms slip from his, hurt he turns to look at TK, but TK’s already taken his hand in his, tugs on it until Carlos follows him, and walks him over to the couch. Gently he pushes him down on it, and Carlos goes willingly, at first not understanding what TK is doing. He gets the hint that TK wants him to lie down though, and when he does TK wordlessly climbs on top of him, laying down, covering him with his body. Dumbstruck he puts his arms around TK, feels his calming breathing on top of him, and somehow he calms down himself. TK winds his own arms around him too and with the both of them on top of each other like this, it’s a snug fit on the small couch. But it doesn’t matter, having TK near calms him immediately.

“I’m sorry.” TK whispers. “I didn’t mean to be difficult.” Carlos shakes his head.

“No, it’s okay, I’m very sorry too.”

“I know work’s been a lot for you recently and I should have been more considerate, it’s just, it’s hard for me sometimes when I get stuck in my head to see that you’re struggling too.” He admits and Carlos nods, he understands.

“And I’m not leaving, I promise.” It makes Carlos stop for a moment, the words taking him by surprise because while it’s been hanging over them from the beginning that TK’s been scared that Carlos is going to leave him because he’s has got it into his head that he’s going to be too much and have too much baggage for it to be fair to Carlos to have to deal with it too, Carlos cannot help but feel the exact same at times as well. Especially when TK is upset and angry and on the rare occasions that they do fight, that he’ll leave. Not for long, but for a few hours and the thought of that is just too much for him sometimes that it makes him not think clearly, panicked into apathy almost.

“I’m in it for the long run I promise.” Carlos tightens his arms around him, breathes him in, feels the weight of TK ground him into the couch, and he focuses on that feeling of safety, allowing it to embrace him for a moment as he swallows down the tears.

“I know.” He whispers, hears his voice waver slightly. “I know, but it’s nice to hear you say it nonetheless.”

TK sits up, rests his elbow on either side of Carlos and wipes the escaping tear away gently, and kisses his cheek.

“I love you Carlos, I’m not leaving.”

“I know…”

“Are you okay?” He asks, concerned and Carlos shrugs, not totally used to being on the receiving end of TK’s worry. It makes him feel a little odd but he’s also understanding TK’s own hesitancy to opening up to Carlos in the beginning of their relationship, it’s scary.

“Work has not been easy recently. It’s just been a lot of bad stuff involving kids and social services and drugs, it’s making me feel useless. These kids, they deserve better and most of them just want their parents to love them. Separating them like this feels inhumane.” He admits, shakes his head to prevent more tears from escaping.

TK nods but he winces and he has that rare look on his face, one Carlos knows means that he wants to protect him, wishes he could carry some of the burden for Carlos himself. It’s the same look he gets when he’s on call and he has to deal with a particularly difficult rescue, where instincts kick in and he will do everything he can to save the person.

It’s strange but Carlos recognises it’s deeply meaningful to be on the receiving end of it, Carlos can’t imagine there’s many people alive that TK cares this deeply about.

“I’m very very sorry about that.”

“Yeah...me too. But taking it out on you when you’re clearly not feeling your best either is not okay and I’m sorry.”

“I know you didn’t mean to and I wasn’t exactly helping my case along by being inconsiderate.”

“Agreed then that we both made mistakes?” Carlos says, his lip twitching a little and TK nods, smile small.

“Yeah, agreed.” He leans forward and kisses Carlos’ nose, a soft gentle gesture and it lodges something fiercely in his throat for a moment, making him gulp down the tears.

But it makes him feel better too, and the tough and long day has started to diminish slightly by now when he feels warm and loved and comforted by the love of his life.

“Tell me about your day.” He tells TK and he huffs but smiles softly and nods, leans down again and while he talks he keeps placing butterfly light kisses on Carlos’ exposed skin, making his heart flutter in love.

He talks for a bit and Carlos hums and nods and doesn’t say much, starts to feel himself drifting off but feeling too tired to stop it.

…..

He wakes by the cascading sound of water against his windows, sits up confused as to where he is for a moment and why there is a blanket draped over him, the loud noise alerting him to the roaring storm outside. The living room light is off but the kitchen ones are on and there are two steaming plates of food standing on the counter, TK absent. He yawns, stretches and gets up in search of his boyfriend. It doesn’t take long, he comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered and wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt of Carlos’, a little loose around the arms. He smiles when he spots Carlos is up and comes close, wrapping his arms around him. He looks better Carlos notes, less burdened than when earlier.

“Hi.” He smiles. Carlos can’t help but smile back, loving it when he gets to see TK like this, completely at ease, facade gone, face open and soft looking in clothes that belong to him.

He feels his heart grow in size and he leans down, kisses his boyfriend and hopes it conveys everything he feels that he can’t find the words for at the moment. TK seems to appreciate it and somehow understand it too, he hums, wraps his arms tighter around his neck and gives in to the kiss completely. He could do this forever, but he’s hungry and whatever there is that TK’s made smells lovely, so he breaks the kiss and TK kisses his nose before he steps back, but only a little, still keeping close to Carlos.

“You cooked.” He comments lifting an eyebrow. TK shrugs, a little unsure.

“Yeah, I have no idea what you had planned to make before the fight but you fell asleep and I thought you might appreciate some food when you woke up.” Carlos' heart melts, he loves him so much.

TK looks back and Carlos kisses him again, taking the breath out of him as TK’s surprise becomes evident. Carlos steps back and TK looks dazed, he blinks and Carlos smiles.

“Thank you, I love it.” And a shy little smile breaks across TK’s smile, relief mixing with love.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And I am starving.”

“Good.” They step apart to sit down and the evening that started out horrendously turns into something soft and beautiful instead, both of them tucked away into a little bubble of light while it rains heavily outside, unbeknownst to them.

After dinner and the dishes have been cleaned away they move to the couch again, Carlos also having changed out of his jeans to fully enjoy the downtime. An episode of Criminal Minds is playing on TV, not Carlos’ favourite thing to watch when he wants to relax, but TK enjoys it and has taken to asking Carlos questions about what they do being realistic or not.

He’s not paying attention to the episode though, his attention is on TK more than anything else right now, his head in Carlos’ lap, eyes attentive on the screen, his hair soft and loose, having been left unstyled after the shower, breathing slow and calm. He’s stroking a hand up and down his arm, making goosebumps erupt on his skin, something he delights a little too much in doing.

The sleeve of the shirt has risen up, and there is one of TK’s many different tattoos. This one is the SOS one, the world as the O and it’s pretty, Carlos actually likes it a lot, can’t help but be curious about it too. He moves his hand over it, fingers gently hovering above it until he has TK’s full attention. It takes a while for him to notice that the stroking has stopped and he moves his head, frowning slightly.

“What is it?” He asks, Carlos smiles, a little cheekily.

“What about this one.” He taps gently at the underside of his upper arm and TK’s eyes move to it. When he gets what Carlos is asking he huffs but he nimbly moves and lies down on his back, meeting Carlos’ eyes. Carlos gets a pillow from behind himself, motions for TK to move and puts it under his head making it more comfortable for him.

“Okay this one really doesn’t have as deep a meaning as the other one, just to warn you.”

“It doesn’t have to be deep.” He reassures. “I just want to know more about you.” TK’s eyes go soft for a moment and he draws in a sharp breath.

“I love you so much.” He whispers and Carlos smiles brilliantly, leans forward and kisses TK.

The angle is all wrong and kissing upside down really isn’t as sexy as they make it out to be in films, not that it matters, the action, softly kissing someone he loves is all that matters.

“I love you too.” He sits back.

“Okay, well this really isn’t that deep. But you know I love the ocean?” Carlos nods.

“Well I went on a trip with some friends to California for a weekend when I was younger and there was this activism group that was protesting and advocating for the protection of our seas so I stopped and talked with one of the guys and he was really passionate about it. I learnt a lot from him and I guess it just kick started my own passion for the sea.”

“Yeah?”

“But the tattoo came after a drunk night out, same trip though, where I flirted with the tattoo artist for long enough to make him agree to do it even though I very obviously wasn’t sober.”

“You little menace.” TK flashes him a cheeky grin, clearly proud of the achievement.

“Well the tattoo turned out nice though.” He strokes his thumb appreciatively over it and TK nods.

“It did.”

“What happened with the dude?”

“I went home with him for the night.” Carlos snorts and rolls his eyes.

“Of course you did.” TK chuckles.

“But yes the tattoo turned out nice, it really did. Not that I am against putting tattoos or piercings or stuff on your body that don’t have any meaning. But I guess it’s nice when some of them do.”

“It’s art, I like it on you, adds another layer to you, as well as making you hot as hell.”

“Yeah?” TK lifts an eyebrow, intrigued now, fishing for details, wanting more. Carlos chuckles but he can’t really resist TK when he looks at him like he does now, biting at his lip, knowing of course exactly what he’s doing to Carlos.

“You are a menace.” TK chuckles, sits up, easily turning around planting himself in Carlos’ lap, kicking away the pillow.

“Yep, but you love it.”

“I do.” He says leaning forward, meeting TK in the middle.

They don’t last too long on the couch because after becoming an actual well adjusted couple both of them prefer having sex in the bedroom, it makes for much more intimacy than a quickie on this small couch do for either of them these days. Not that they are exactly opposed to having sex a bit all over the place at Carlos’, but after the evening they’ve had, the bedroom it defintiely is.

Carlos turns off the TV, carries his boyfriend easily enough to his bedroom and closes the door behind them.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #tattoo fic #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #fanfiction #my writings #tk x carlos #carlos x tk #carlos reyes #tk strand #9-1-1 lone star

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flowerfan2 · 3 years

Text

Part of You Indefinitely

Yes, I’ve found my way into the Schitt’s Creek fandom - it’s a lovely, hopeful place to be. And of course, having met these wonderful people, I need to throw some angst and h/c their way. Please enjoy this, the first chapter of my whump!Patrick fic.

Thanks as always to my beta @perryavenue for coming along with me to yet another fandom :)

David/Patrick, M, A03 (tags/warnings this chapter: injury, hospitalization, loss of consciousness, blood (minor))

Chapter 1

David is arranging a new shipment of lavender sage lip balms by the cash register – he’s not sure they will sell as well as the honey vanilla but they are definitely more interesting – when he hears the crash.

He grumbles again at Patrick’s insistence on spending their Sunday morning at the store when they could have just as easily slept in another few hours, and ambles to the backroom to see what happened. It’s the last calm thought he processes.

There are wires hanging from a ceiling light fixture, a step ladder tilted at an angle against the shelves, and Patrick, lying on the floor, oddly twitching. David crashes to his knees, hands flying to Patrick’s head, as words flow out of his mouth in a panicked stream. “Patrick – Patrick- are you okay? Patrick-”

Patrick is still breathing, David can feel his breath on his cheek when he presses his face close, but he’s not responding. David’s hands are fluttering up and down Patrick’s body, but he doesn’t know what’s wrong. He tries to hold Patrick’s head steady as his husband’s muscles continue to spasm. “Patrick, wake up. Please, come on, please, Patrick.”

David can feel something warm and wet in Patrick’s hair, and he faintly realizes that Patrick is bleeding. “Oh my god, Patrick, open your eyes, please.” He fumbles his phone out of his pocket and calls emergency services, one hand resting on Patrick’s head, trembling so hard he can only hope the operator can understand what he’s saying.

Something in his brain finally connects the wires still swinging above him with Patrick unconscious on the floor and his breath leaves him in a horrified gasp. “Send help now, right now. I think my husband has been electrocuted.”

*****

It’s David’s first time riding in an ambulance while he is sober enough to remember it, and it’s terrifying. He can’t wish for anything to dull his senses right now, though, because he needs to be here for Patrick. He needs to get a grip, to stay strong, to not fall apart like he absolutely thinks he’s about to do, because Patrick needs him to keep it together.

The EMTs don’t offer much information, and the ride to the hospital in Elmdale is a nightmare of spiraling anxiety. David feels like his chest is going to implode, the only thing keeping him from losing it completely is his hand on Patrick’s ankle, his arm stretched out to touch him in the only place he can reach.

He wants to say something, to do something, but his voice seems to have abandoned him. Finally, the questions in his head break through. “Is he going to be okay?”

He barely hears the noncommittal answer. Patrick has to be okay. Their story can’t end here. They haven’t even been married a year. David has plans for their one-year wedding anniversary, only a few months away. He’s going to take Patrick on a hike. He’s going to do it right, make up for how David almost ruined Patrick’s proposal with his grumpy mood. He’s not going to complain, and Patrick’s not going to get stabbed in the foot with a branch. David is going to pack a picnic, with Patrick’s favorite foods this time, and serenade him at sunset - or maybe not quite sunset, because hiking back down in the dark seems like a bad idea, but he still has time to figure that out. They still have time, they are supposed to have time. Lots of time.

David’s come far enough to believe that he’s pretty good at making Patrick happy, and at letting himself be happy, but there’s so much more he wants to do.

So many more smiles he needs to see on Patrick’s face.

There’s a rush of activity as they arrive at the hospital, and David has to let go of Patrick’s ankle, even the loss of that small connection paining him. “I’ll be right here,” he says, although Patrick can’t hear him, and no one is listening. “I’ll be here.”

*****

David is pacing in the waiting room. He has already filled out the necessary forms, his handwriting barely legible since he’s still shaking all over, and now there is nothing to do but wait. He knows he should probably call someone and let them know what’s going on, but Patrick’s parents are on an Alaskan cruise, and his own parents are in Fiji. Stevie’s in New York for a conference, and Alexis is in L.A. He’s got to handle this on his own.

David used to be good at handling crises. He prided himself on it. Even when he was at the height of his drug happy party boy phase, he was always able to make a call to the right consulate and get Alexis sprung from whatever ridiculous situation she had wound up in. He could act the part of a confident, competent savior, equipped with enough money and pull to get things done. But things are different now. Patrick has changed him, has cut right through all the walls he built to protect himself. His defenses are gone. And now this panicking, flailing, frightened man is all Patrick has left.

It seems like forever but finally a doctor comes out to talk with him. Patrick is stable, but still unconscious. Apparently he is more impaired than would be expected from a minor electric shock, because he hit his head when he fell. Tests are being run.

David takes a step towards the doctor as his vision narrows, and someone is there next to him, a hand on his arm. “Would you like to sit down?” He doesn’t seem to have any choice, as he’s pushed into a chair, and a moment later handed a cup of water.

David takes a sip, then shakes his head, squeezing his eyes together and forcing himself to take a deep breath. “When can I see him? Can I see him, please?”

Not yet, they tell him. Soon. They’ll let him know.

*****

<i>Four hours earlier</i>

David wakes to the feel of his husband’s lips on his own, and he hums and wraps a hand around Patrick’s head and holds him close. But instead of finding a sleep-warm, enticingly aroused and naked Patrick shuffling closer to him under the sheets, he opens his eyes to see Patrick sitting on the edge of the bed, already showered, a towel around his waist.

“Mmm, no, come back to bed.”

“Can’t do that. We’re going to the store early, remember?”

David groans and flops over, pulling the duvet over his head. “I don’t want to.”

“But we said we’d do it, and if we don’t, our lovely shelves will be empty on one of our best selling days of the week.”

David doesn’t really care to remember this fact, although it’s true. Thursday afternoon he and Patrick had gotten into a disagreement about whether to keep sourcing peppermint foot cream from a particular vendor, and by the time David shut his mouth long enough to figure out why Patrick had developed a sudden aversion to Mr. Braden (he was unforgivably rude to their intern), some rather less than pleasant things had been said by David, too. David suggested he make it up to Patrick by trading their regular Thursday evening at the store doing inventory and stocking shelves for an impromptu date night, and Patrick had agreed, on the condition that they come in early on Sunday instead.

“I’d like to suggest an amendment to our agreement,” David says, sitting up and slinging both arms around Patrick’s neck, loving the smile it brings to his husband’s face. “Come back to bed for just a little while, and I’ll put all the labels on the body milk bottles myself.” Patrick doesn’t like sticking labels on the bottles, he says the adhesive makes his fingertips itch.

“We’ll be late,” Patrick objects, but he’s already relaxing into David’s arms.

David knows Patrick’s protest is mostly for show. He runs his tongue up the side of Patrick’s neck, inhaling the smell of his warm, damp skin. “I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Patrick caves, attacking David’s mouth in a hungry kiss, as they both fall back onto the bed. “You always do.”

*****

It seems like forever, but finally someone comes and tells him that he can see Patrick. They lead David down hallways and around corners and finally into a room. He goes past an empty bed and a partly pushed back curtain and then he’s there, staring helplessly at his husband, laid out unnaturally where he absolutely does not belong.

All the tropes are true, David thinks to himself. Patrick looks small, diminished by the machines and the wires and the strangeness of the setting. He’s lying flat on his back, which is just wrong – Patrick sleeps on his side, his knees always bent, body twisted around a pillow or the sheets or, when at all possible, David. He says it’s because he doesn’t breathe well lying on his back, but David knows he likes the comfort of it, of being surrounded and held. David likes it too.

They’re a good pair, right for each other in all the most important ways. David swallows hard and moves closer to this fragile version of his beloved husband. <i>Patrick has to be okay.</i>

“Here, sit down,” the nurse at his side says, sliding a chair closer to the bed. “You can touch him.”

David sits down, stiffly, and hovers his hand near Patrick’s.

“You won’t hurt him.” The nurse is looking at Patrick’s chart, and then back to David. “He hit his head pretty hard, but there’s no sign of any other injuries.”

“Is he… is he in pain?” David thought Patrick was still unconscious.

“No, he shouldn’t be,” she says. “But we’ll ask him when he wakes up, and go from there.”

David bites his lip, and forces the words out. “He’s going to wake up, isn’t he?”

The nurse puts her hand on his arm, and David forces himself not to flinch. “There’s nothing to be gained by not staying positive,” she says patronizingly, patting him twice and then, mercifully, leaving the room.

David indulges in a moment of fury, imagining himself storming out of the room and demanding to speak to a doctor, throwing a Moira Rose-style tantrum until someone gives him better customer service, but then he sees Patrick’s hand twitch and all thoughts of histrionics disappear.

“Patrick?” David takes his husband’s hand and squeezes it. “Patrick, are you awake?” He reaches over and runs a finger along Patrick’s cheek. “I’m right here. Open your eyes, baby, look at me.”

Shaking, he leans close and presses a kiss to Patrick’s dry lips, and then another. But there’s no response, no Sleeping Beauty moment of grateful awareness. David takes in a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm, and sits back up.

“It’s okay,” he says, scooting the chair closer so that he can rest his elbows on the bed and hold Patrick’s free hand in both of his own. “You don’t have to wake up yet. You can sleep some more if you need to. Rest all you want. Heal that beautiful head. I’ll be here when you wake up, Patrick. I’ll be right here.”

*****

A doctor comes by a little while later, and tells David what he’s pretty much figured out on his own – they can’t say when Patrick will wake up. So far, they don’t have any reason to believe he won’t, which is good, as far as it goes. It’s not very precise, but Patrick suffered a head injury along with some level of electric shock, so they have to wait and see. They’ll run some more tests tomorrow if there’s no change, but they are “cautiously optimistic,” whatever that means.

After the doctor leaves David makes the mistake of googling “traumatic head injury.” He reads for a few minutes and then practically throws his phone across the room, watching as it slides across the linoleum floor and comes to a stop by the IV stand. He’s historically not very good at looking on the bright side, but he refuses to entertain the possibility that Patrick is going to be permanently disabled from his attempt to make the backroom overhead light stop flickering.

He leans down against the bed, resting his forehead against Patrick’s shoulder, his hand still wrapped in his own. He can feel the panic rising in his chest again, and he fights it, not wanting to be any more useless to Patrick than he already is.

“Hey, I know I said you could rest, but maybe just wake up for a minute?” he says softly into Patrick’s ear. “Just squeeze my hand, or blink your eyes. Can you do that for me?” He waits, not really expecting a reaction, but it doesn’t seem fair to ask for something and then not wait for an answer. “No matter what happens, I’ll be here, okay? Even if you’re hurt, even if…” David can’t really put into words what it might be like if Patrick doesn’t recover. “No matter what happens, we’ll get through it together. Just come back to me, okay? I can’t… I won’t make it if you don’t. I need you.”

“David.”

David looks up to see Alexis standing by the foot of Patrick’s bed, looking almost as pale as Patrick. Then she moves closer and folds David into a tight hug, squeezing him until he can hardly breathe. It’s the safest he’s felt since he heard the crash in the back room.

After a few minutes of Alexis’s pointy chin digging into his shoulder, David eases himself back. “Maybe give arm day a rest,” he says softly, as she loosens her boa-constrictor hold around his waist.

“Everyone always says I’m stronger than I look,” Alexis says, tilting her head as she gazes at him. “And you are too, David.”

He shrugs and glances away, his gaze inevitably going to Patrick, still just as quiet and unresponsive as he was a moment ago, and then back to his sister. “How are you here?” he asks, not wanting to dwell on the topic of his questionable ability to handle this particular situation. “I thought you were in L.A.”

“That was last week.” Alexis drops her bag to the floor, then drags a chair around from the other side of the curtain and positions it next to David’s. “I was in Toronto, working with a new client, when Jocelyn called me.”

David blinks. “Jocelyn?”

“Yes, David, Jocelyn called me, when you didn’t answer your phone – and so did Twyla, Roland, Ronnie, and everyone else.” She waves her hand, apparently to indicate the universe of people blowing up her phone.

“But… why?”

“David, did you really think that an ambulance could show up in the middle of town and whisk you and Patrick away without anyone noticing?” Alexis boops his nose and looks from Patrick back to David. “They’re worried about you. Half of the town is in the waiting room right now.”

“Wait, what?”

Alexis lets a smile tug at the side of her mouth. “Kidding, no they’re not. But they’ll come, if we need them. Twyla did drop off some food, it’s in my bag. Muffins, or something, she said you didn’t even come get one this morning. And sandwiches.” Alexis reaches down and pulls out a bag.

“I’m not hungry,” David says.

“Yeah, because you and skipping meals is a good idea.”

“I’ve had other things to worry about,” David says, his voice cracking.

“I know, David,” Alexis says softly. “But you have to take care of yourself too. And then we can take care of Patrick.”

It’s what breaks him, finally, that “we,” and David loses it, sobbing in Alexis’s arms at the side of his husband’s hospital bed.

#schitt's creek #David Rose #Patrick Brewer #Schitt's Creek fic #Alexis Rose #Hurt/Comfort

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bebraveridethedragon · 4 years

Text

I’ve Got No Fucking Clue

Chapter 1

Warning: I don’t think there’s any warnings for this chapter.

Chapter 2

Douxie had managed to fall asleep in the middle of the night, luckily with no nightmares. When he woke up he felt energetic, surprisingly.

It must be the thought of seeing Nat again, or meeting any of the new people. Archie stood up from where he was sleeping on Douxie’s chest before arching his back and stretching.

“You ready Arch?” Douxie asked after he had gotten dressed and brushed his teeth. He doesn’t eat breakfast.

“Yes, I’m quite excited to meet everybody and to see Nat again.” Archie said. He jumped up onto Douxie’s shoulders before he walked out of the room.

It wasn’t until mid day that people started arriving. First was Nat with Bruce, and shortly after that Rogers had shown up.

“Nat!” Douxie yelled as he ran over to give her a hug.

“Hey Doux, Arch, how’ve you been?” Nat asked as she hugged him back.

“I’ve been great, I actually have friends other than Archie now. Although most of them are still in high school. Archie’s also doing good.” Douxie said.

“Well that’s good, now let’s go meet the man out of time.” Nat said. She turned on her heel and walked towards a jet.

A blonde man that reminded Douxie of Steve walked down the ramp. This must be Steve Rogers, Douxie thought.

“Agent Romanoff, Captain Rogers. Is that Hisirdoux?” Coulson introduced Nat and Steve.

“Hey Coulson, it’s great to see you.” Douxie hugged Coulson.

“Hey Archie.” Coulson scratched behind Archie’s ear.

“Ma’am, uh hi Hisirdoux?” Steve waved awkwardly.

“Please, call me Douxie.” Steve nodded before turning to Nat.

“Hi,” she turned to Coulson. “They need you on the bridge. Face time.” Coulson nodded before leaving.

“There was quite the buzz around here, finding you in the ice. I thought Coulson was gonna swoon.” Nat said.

“Has he asked you to sign his Captain America trading cards yet?” Douxie asked.

“Trading cards?” Steve looked confused.

“They’re vintage, he’s very proud of them.” Nat said. They started walking towards Bruce Banner.

“Dr. Banner.” Steve walked up to Bruce and shook his hand.

“Oh yeah, hi. They told me you’d be coming. They didn’t tell me a kid was going to be here though.” Bruce turned his attention from Steve to Douxie.

“I’m 19, not a kid.” Douxie smiled. Bruce raised an eyebrow in a challenging way, suggesting that he still considered Douxie a kid.

“Word is you can find the cube.” Steve said.

“Is that the only word on me?” Bruce asked.

“Only word I care about.” Steve replied.

“Must be strange for you, all of this.” Bruce pointed to everything.

“Well, this is actually kind of familiar.” Steve said.

“Gentleman, you may want to step inside for a minute. It’s going to get a little hard to breath.” Natasha interrupted their conversation.

“Is this a submarine?” Steve asked.

Bruce looked skeptical, “Really, they wanted me in a submerged pressurized metal container?” Bruce and Steve move to the side of the helicarrier and look over.

“Oh no, this is much worse.” Bruce said when he saw the engines.

The helicarrier started rising, and they all walked inside to the bridge.

“Gentlemen.” Douxie heard Fury say. Steve handed a 10 dollar bill to Fury which confused Douxie. He’d have to ask about that later.

Fury walked over to Bruce, holding his hand out. “Doctor, thank you for coming.”

“Thanks for asking nicely. So uh... how long am I staying?” Bruce asked.

“Once we get our hands on the Tesseract, you’re in the clear. You’ll also have Hisirdoux helping you look.” Fury told him.

“Who’s Hisirdoux?” Bruce looked around confused.

“That would be the kid, although he prefers Douxie.” Steve answered.

Douxie huffed, “I’m not a kid.”

“You look pretty young to me.” Nat said. Douxie glared at her, she knew his real age and still called him a kid.

“Where are you with finding the Tesseract?” Bruce asked, getting back on topic.

Fury looked at Coulson to explain. “We're sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet. Cellphones, laptops. If it's connected to a satellite, it's eyes and ears for us.”

“That’s still not going to find them in time.” Nat said. Only those close to her could tell she looked disappointed.

“That’s why Hisirdoux is helping.” Fury said.

“You have to narrow the field. How many spectrometers do you have access to?” Bruce asked, getting back on topic.

“How many are there?” Fury asked.

“ Call every lab you know, tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I'll rough out a tracking algorithm based on cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places. Do you have somewhere for me to work?” Bruce asked.

“Agent Romanoff would you show Dr. Banner to his laboratory please. And take Hisirdoux with you.” Fury said. Nat nodded before leading them down the hall.

“You’re gonna love it doc, it’s got all the toys. It also has extremely expensive stuff so try to keep an eye on Douxie.” Nat said. Douxie let out an offended huff.

Bruce chuckled, “Alright, I’ll babysit. Although I’m not promising I’ll be good at it.”

“Oh you don’t have to babysit him, just don’t let him break anything.” Nat laughed.

“I won’t break anything.” Douxie tried to defend himself.

“That’s what you say every time, right before you break something.” Nat said. Douxie huffed again before sitting down on a chair in the lab.

The chair broke right as he sat down.

“Fuzz buckets.” Nat and Bruce started laughing as Douxie groaned.

“Told you.” Nat said smugly.

“Haha, congratulations. You were right as always.” Douxie mock laughed.

“I’m going to leave you two now, see you later Doux.” Nat left the room.

“So how are you supposed to help me find the Tesseract?” Bruce asked.

“Oh I’m not looking for the Tesseract, I’m searching for Loki’s staff while you look for the Tesseract. But I can help you if you need help with anything.” Douxie responded.

“How are you supposed to find the staff?” Bruce asked, looking genuinely interested.

“Magic.” Douxie said while waggling his fingers. Bruce looked at him in disbelief.

“We’ve got a hit, doc your staying here but Fury wants Douxie to come with us.” Steve came running in saying. He looked confused as to why Fury could want a kid to fight a god but he wasn’t going to question it.

Douxie jogged out to where the jets were and saw Nat boarding one. He entered behind her and she smiled at him and Archie as she sat in the pilot seat. She told them where they were going and then started preparing for takeoff.

Steve joined them after a few minutes, wearing his Captain America get up. His helmet was off though, so it didn’t look too weird.

“Hey Spangles nice of you to join us.” Douxie said, smiling widely at Steve. He glanced at Douxie with a face that said I don’t know why your here but don’t mess anything up.

Douxie got that face a lot. He got it a lot from Morgana when he first started being Merlin’s apprentice. She never really liked him, she thought he was a screw up that didn’t deserve to be Merlin’s apprentice.

Yeah well, jokes on her Douxie thought. The flight to Germany was a long one, but not as long as it would have been on a normal plane. It was a few hours at most.

When they got there they heard Loki making a speech with everybody kneeling before him

“Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel.” Loki said, his arms thrust out.

One old man stands up. “Oh fuzz buckets.” Mutters Douxie.

“Not to men like you.” The old man says.

“There are no men like me.” Loki says.

“There are always men like you.” The old man argues.

“Look to your elder, people. Let him be an example.” Loki points his staff at the old man. Steve jumps from the plane at the same time. Steve lands in front of the old man and uses his shield to deflect the blast from Loki’s staff.

“You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing.” Steve says.

Douxie laughs from where he’s standing in the jet.

“The soldier. A man out of time.” Loki mocks.

“I’m not the one out of time.” Steve retorts.

The jet starts moving and Nat points a machine gun at Loki. “Loki, drop the weapon and stand down.” Nat demands.

“Your puny guns are no match for me.” Loki says before shooting a blast at the jet. Nat moves out of the way while Douxie jumps from the jet.

“They might not be but we are.” Douxie says. He’s in a crouching position with Archie flying right behind him.

“You’re a wizard.” Loki states. Douxie can see a flash of fear before it’s replaced by a determined look.

He shoots a blast at Douxie but Douxie summons his staff and brings up a shield.

“Our turn.” Douxie says before Archie shoots fire out of his mouth and Douxie warps it to surround Loki. Loki desperately starts to put out the fire. He manages to get out and he summons more of himself.

AC-DC starts blaring over the radio on the jet and everybody looks up in confusion. Iron Man blasts the real Loki back before landing on the ground and pointing all of his weapons at Loki.

Steve, Douxie, and Tony surround Loki; Steve with his shield, Tony with his suit, and Douxie with his staff and Archie right behind him.

“Make your move Reindeer Games,” Loki puts his hands up in surrender and his armor materialized away.

“Good choice.” Tony says.

“Mr. Stark.” Steve says.

“Captain, why’s there a kid here?” Tony asked just now noticing Douxie.

“Hi I’m Douxie.” Douxie introduced himself.

“And the flying cat?” Tony pointed at Archie.

“Oh that’s Archie.” Douxie smiled at them before walking into the jet that had landed.

Steve and Tony followed him, pulling Loki with them. They were on their way back to the helicarrier when it started storming out of nowhere. Nat’s talking to Fury over her head set as she pilots the jet.

“I don’t like it.” Steve says, looking at Loki.

“What? Rock of Ages giving up so easily or being outshone by an emo teenager with his cat?” Tony asks.

“Actually, I’m a dragon that can transform into a cat.” Archie says from where he’s perched on Douxie’s shoulders. Tony shrieked and Steve jumped before staring at the cat in shock. Douxie started laughing and it was a miracle that Archie stayed on.

“Since when can you talk?” Asked Steve.

“Since always, but I felt like scaring you when you least expected it.” Archie replied easily.

“I don’t remember it ever being this easy. This guy packs a wallop.” Steve said after getting over the shock of a talking cat.

“Still, you are pretty spry, for an older fellow. What's your thing? Pilates?” Tony asked.

“Maybe he does yoga.” Douxie said. Tony pointed at Douxie showing his agreement.

“What are pilates?” Steve asked.

“It's like calisthenics. You might have missed a couple things, you know, doing time as a Capsicle.” Tony said. Steve stared at him, unamused at his nickname.

“Fury didn’t tell me he was calling you in.” Steve said after a couple beats.

“Really, he told me.” Douxie says.

“Yeah, there’s a lot of things Fury doesn’t tell you. Or put in a file.” Tony added that last part as an afterthought, looking at Douxie.

Thunder and lightning hit the jet, causing it to shake for a moment.

“Where’s that coming from?” Nat asked. No one answered.

More thunder and Loki was starting to look a little uneasy.

“What’s the matter? Scared of a little lightning?” Steve mocks Loki.

“I’m not overly fond of what follows.” Loki says.

Lightning hits the jet again and a thump can be heard from the top of the jet. The ramp is forced open and a man with long blonde hair walks in before grabbing Loki and then flying out.

“Fuzz buckets.” Douxie mutters before going to follow them.

“Stay back kid, let the adults handle this.” Tony says grabbing his bicep. He puts his helmet on.

“Another Asgardian?” Nat asks.

“Think the guys a friendly?” Steve asked after no one answers Nat.

“Doesn’t matter. If he frees Loki or kills him, the Tesseract’s lost.” Tony says before moving down the ramp.

“Stark we need a plan of attack!” Steve says.

“I have a plan. Attack.” Tony jumps out of the jet. Douxie rolls his eyes before he’s held back by a different hand.

“Tony was right, leave the fighting to us.” Steve says.

“I’d sit this one out Cap.” Nat says.

“I don’t see how I can.”

“These guys come from legends, they're basically gods.”

“There's only one God, ma'am. And I'm pretty sure he doesn't dress like that.” With that Steve jumps out of the plane.

“They’re going to get themselves killed.” Archie says.

“So follow them, you’re older than both of them combined don’t let them bench you.” Nat says.

“But I kinda want to see how this plays out.” Douxie says. Nat smirked and got the jet as close as she could.

They watched as Steve jumped into the middle of the fight and immediately get hit with a flying hammer. Steve went flying, while Tony shot a blast at the Asgardian.

Douxie rolled his eyes, “Oh fine I’ll go help them.”

Douxie jumped out of the jet and landed right in between the Asgardian and Tony. Steve was standing up from where he was knocked down. Douxie used his magic to cause a small explosion that knocked them all over.

“Kid? I thought I told you to stay in the jet?” Tony says standing up.

“I’ve never listened to people before, why would I start now?” Douxie asks.

“Who are you?” The Asgardian asks.

“Hisirdoux Casperan, but everyone calls me Douxie.” Douxie answered.

“I am Thor, god of thunder. I’ve heard of you, the Son of Coul mentioned a wizard named Hisirdoux the last time I was on Earth.” Thor said. Douxie looked surprised at that.

“Cool, can we talk this out now. Loki’s just sitting by himself.” Thor nodded before going and getting Loki. They entered the jet and sat down.

“What are you?” Steve asked Douxie.

“A wizard, Archie’s my familiar.” Douxie answered.

They rode in silence the rest of the way to the helicarrier.

Chapter 1

This story is also on AO3 if you want to read it there.

#wizards #tales of arcadia #douxie #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #avengers #marvel #tony stark #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #clint barton #bruce banner #nick fury

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shutupandshipit · 4 years

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Magic in the Blood - Ch.7

Summary: “You used magic on me,” Neil said, mildly accusing. He opened his eyes, staring into the glowing honey gold of Andrew’s eyes.

“Don’t I always?”

Instead of answering, Neil asked, “Yes or no?” because his hands were aching to run along Andrew’s skin, up his toned thighs, to tug him down over him. …..

Or where everything is the same, but magic exists. The school year is over, there’s no more practices until mid-summer and for the first time, Neil can spend his time the way he wants. Without suppressants muddling his system and Andrew sober, they’ve got magical and logistical issues to work through.

And then there’s the new Foxes when they show which is a whole other magical nightmare of itself.

Pairing: Andreil

Rating: T

Previous <- Chapter 6

Chapter 8 -> Next(post to come soon)

Chapter 7: Lavender Pills

Neil:

As soon as Neil stepped off the plane and found his way to a bathroom, he frantically rummaged through his bag. He could hear the bottle of suppressants rattling incessantly, calling to him with the bliss of repression. His magic had begun to crawl to the surface halfway through the flight, but he'd taken a suppressant before boarding and assumed that would be enough. Only, he hadn't anticipated the anxious magic pouring from the other passengers, filling the cabin until he was suffocating. He shouldn't have been able to feel them with such a recent dose, but something about the altitude or proximity or his own anxiety had somehow diminished the affects of the suppressants.

There was the possibility that the suppressants were just loosing their potency as Neil's body grew more accustomed to the dosage.

Stewart had procured them for him after California. After his mother's death. After his magic left a destructive path behind him as he it poured from him unchecked, a path that Stewart had to pay a lot of money to cover up.

With Mary's death fresh on his mind, he hadn't been able to put a cap on his own magic, and he'd burned through their collection of suppressants trying to. Stewart had pressed his suppliers for the strongest dosage they could make that wouldn't kill anyone.

When he'd first started taking them, he could only handle half a pill once a day. Even then, he'd almost had a panic attack with how quiet the world had gone. He'd wondered if that was the way normal people who couldn't sense magic felt. There had been so much more quiet in his head for his mind to circle around and around. So much more space to think about his dead mother.

He'd vomited and passed out almost immediately. When he'd woken, magic still tucked away in his chest, they'd tried to drop his dose to a quarter of a tablet.

He didn't let them.

Now though, he had to take one every couple of hours to keep his magic under wraps, and even then, it leaked out around the edges. He couldn't keep it up much longer, not without contacting his uncle, and that was something he didn't want to have to do. He had about a year's worth left, but at the rate he was going, he might have even less than that. He'd have to start rationing if that were even possible.

Popping the small lavender pull into his mouth, Neil swallowed it down dry and shoved the bottle back into his bag. He waited ten long minutes for the pill to begin taking effect before finding his way towards the exit where he found a particularly small blond man waiting for him.

Andrew:

It took Neil Josten much longer to come out of the terminal than Andrew would have expected. He would have assumed it was something innocent like using the restroom, but he'd seen the way Neil had looked at Kevin. He'd felt the magic bubbling beneath the surface of his skin, the suppressants trying to keep his magic in and failing. He wouldn't trust the man as far as he could throw him, not until he gave him a reason to.

He doubted the man was smart enough for that, especially if he was stupid enough to sign with the Foxes.

Leaning against the wall, he stared up towards the ceiling and let his magic stretch its limbs for the first time in awhile. He's skipped his wake-up dose to meet with Neil, and without the constraints of his medication, there was no reason his magic needed to stay on a leash. Relief washed through his body while his magic pushed out and out and out, soothing the fever of a screeching child, easing a woman's migraine, calming a flight attendant's throbbing feet. He couldn't do much without physical touch or his herbs, but he still could do a little.

As the baby's screams calmed to whimpers, a blank spot entered the Arrivals area.

Neil Josten was the personification of a lack of presence, a blank spot in the middle of the crowd, a black hole without an end or beginning.

Everyone had magic whether they could use it or not. Whether it was strong or weak. Even magicless people had magic, but they were people that had such a small amount that it was unusable. It couldn't be utilized by the holder. Even then, there were people with magic that either didn't know how to use their magic. Even under suppressants, there was still the barest traces of magic on a person's skin.

All being, living and inanimate, gave off magic. Neil Josten gave off absolutely nothing as if he were already dead. Which was all the more curious as he had been actually vomiting up magic the first time.

He stared the man down as he glanced this way and that, stepping further into the crowd. It only took Neil a moment to spot him, and another to weave through the crowd to get to him. When he was close enough for Andrew to take a good look at his eyes, he found a very familiar look there.

His pupils were blown wide, and there was a dullness to them. Neil was high, and whether that was on true drugs or something else was still to be determined.

Suppressants couldn't erase someone's magical fingerprint the way whatever he was on had.

“Neil. Baggage claim,” he said simply.

Neil:

It only took a day for Neil to understand that there were almost no good times for him to take his next dose of suppressants, especially when he'd had to start taking them so frequently. By the time the first week had come to an end, he was nearly going crazy with the havoc the cousins had put his schedule through just trying to keep a lid on his magic.

He couldn't walk around with his pill bottle, so the only solution he could come up with was carrying a few around with him that he shoved deep into his pockets.

He knew he was getting sloppy by the third week, dipping out as soon as he felt his magic surfacing. When Andrew's eyes started to drift towards him more and more often. He didn't know if it was the stress the others were putting him under or the lack of sleep or whatever other reason there could be, but his doses had grown closer again.

That scared him, made him more cautious with his doses, but also stupider.

And he found everything coming to a head one afternoon after practice with the cousins.

He showered last as always, but found the locker room empty save for Andrew sitting in front of his locker after he was done. The man tossed and caught something idly, not looking at Neil when he came to a stop. “Can I get to my locker?” he asked, irritated with the afternoons events and now having to deal with the murderous midgit again.

Andrew caught the package again, and Neil finally noticed the small ziploc bag he held. A flash of lavender through plastic.

“Give that back!” Neil spat, lunging for Andrew before immediately thinking better of it.

Andrew had a knife in his hand even as Neil retreated. “I think... not.” He let the bag swing between his fingers so they could both stare at the pills hanging between them. “I've been wondering what you were on. These look professional, but still homemade.” Dull hazel eyes glanced back towards him. “You know, Coach and Abby don't allow for drugs unless they're court mandated. Kevin would burst a gasket if he knew his pet project was high on court. So, what are they?”

“Nothing!”

“Oh, they're definitely something, pushing down your magic like that. Erasing it completely.” Andrew's grin was manic. “And judging by your reaction, you seem pretty attached to them. What would happen if I just...” He trailed off, peeling open the top and holding one over his tongue.

Neil lunged forward again, catching the pill before it could hit Andrew's tongue. His side stung, shirt splayed open from Andrew's knife strike. The cut was shallow, and he held the flaps of his shirt closed, but it still hurt like a son of a bitch. “Don't,” he snarled. Blood dripped down his side, warm and slick.

The smell of blood only made him angrier.

“Oh ho,” Andrew laughed, leaning back against the lockers, “Now, what was that all about?”

Neil bit at his lip. Andrew already knew he had magic, but he didn't know what his pills were. Was it worse for him to think that he was a junkie or to know they were suppressants? Strong ones. Would he tell Kevin and Wymack if he thought he was a drug addict? Would he really be all that wrong though? Wasn't he just a different kind of addict, using the suppressants as a crutch rather than an escape? As a means to an end?

Making a decision, Neil decided to go with the truth. Or a partial truth. Partial truths were his specialty after all. “They're suppressants, but if you take a whole one, you'll go into a coma. Or vomit everywhere. Or not see your magic for a whole year.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Yet you pop one every hours it seems like. So, how are you still standing? Unless you're lying.” He fished another pill from the bag, staring at it intently.

Fear slid through Neil. Not fear for Andrew, but fear of what the others would do if Andrew died from overdosing on his suppressants. What would they even do mixed with his other drugs? He was scared of what Wymack would do if he found out about them. What Kevin would do because Kevin preferred to practice with magic intact. What the cousins would do if Andrew never recovered.

“Don't,” Neil said again, trembling as he stared at the pill. He'd taken his dose over an hour before hand, and his magic slipped from his mouth in bright rainbow threads. His magic was spewing from him as if under high pressure. He was trembling with the force, nausea roiling through his body. The release had gotten worse over the couple of months since meeting Wymack, Andrew and Kevin, and he couldn't stop the storm clouds from building around him.

Andrew raised an eyebrow, watching curiously as he pressed a sparking hand to his squinting eye. “That's a lot of magic for someone who's supposed to be magicless. How are you standing if these suppressants are so strong?” he asked with more emphasis.

Neil's hand was trembling as he pressed the pilled he'd taken from Andrew into his mouth and swallowed dry. The effect to a moment, but eventually, his clouds dispersed and his magic slithered back into his body. The tremors took longer to subside, but eventually, they did. “I've built up a tolerance.”

Smiling wickedly, Andrew leaned forward with his elbows propped against his knees. “That's no good, Neil. What happens when you run our? Or miss a dose? Or can't get to them during a game? Are you going to pop off and kill everyone in sight?”

“I'd like to kill you right now.”

Andrew laughed. “Alas, that's not an option.” He slipped the pill back into the bag and pushed them int his pocket, passing the outside over his hip. “I think I'll keep a hold of these. For safe keeping. You understand. I'm sure you have more, so you won't miss these ones.” He stood, stepping as close to Neil as he could without being pressed flush against each other, the flat of his knife tapping along Neil's knuckles where they still held his shirt closed. “You're going to have to make a decision here, Neil. You can't keep popping pills all year. At the rate you're going, you're going to run out before December, and then where will you be? Find me when you want to let off a little steam. We'll have a long discussion about your role here.”

He stepped around Neil, but Neil didn't have the never to grab for the bag in his pocket.

Andrew:

It took Neil a lot longer than he'd anticipated for him to make a decision. It took Neil until Andrew rifled through his belongings and took the entire pill bottle, not that he believed that was all he had. It took for Andrew to put him through hell in Columbia. For him to hitchhike back to Palmetto. It took forever for Neil to make a fucking decision.

Andrew was so frustrated with the whole situation by the time Neil got himself knocked out in Columbia that he was ready to spill every secret he'd collected to both Wymack and Kevin. Threatening him hadn't made him spill his truths. Stealing his drugs hadn't made him spill his truths. Drugging him to high heaven against his will hadn't made him spill his truths.

Not until Wymack was standing between them, and Neil decided to speak fluent German.

He'd never been so utterly taken with someone who was suck a fucking mess.

“I'll be gone by out match against Edgar Allen,” Neil said, and Andrew had never been more sure of a lie in his life though he didn't think Neil knew that himself.

He knew that Neil believed every word he was saying. A junkie like him wouldn't be able to give up what the Foxes had already given him. In the end, Andrew simply said, “We're leaving.”

“Where are we going?” Neil asked, sweat dripping down his forehead, iridescent with his own magic.

Andrew didn't look at him as he said in English, “Back to the dorms. Your teammates have been annoying us ever since we got back, demanding we return to Columbia and scour the streets in search of you,” and then in German, “Somewhere to take care of your problem.” He turned a pointed look on the sky outside Wymack's window where storm clouds had gathered.

“My problem?” Neil asked in German, confused.

Sighing, Andrew spun around at the door to glare at him. “You're barely holding it together. Not many people can feel magic, but I'm sober way more sober than I'd like to be and I can tell that if you don't either take your drugs or release the magic you're literally going to implode.”

Neil pressed his lips into a thin line, but didn't argue. “I ran out. My suppressants are at the dorms.”

“Then release it is.”

Wymack, of course, had to open his mouth and meddle. “He can stay here if he wants. I can call Dan and let her know he's safe.”

Andrew didn't look at Wymack, but turned and opened the door. “Neil wants to come with me,” he said, and he didn't need a lie detector spell to know he was telling the truth.

When he climbed into his car, Neil was climbing into the passenger seat.

…..

“This looks like the kind of place someone comes to get murdered,” Neil commented as Andrew pulled into the campus construction area for the new dorm. The area was deserted, only the skeleton of a building and a dirt packed parking lot. Not even any workers around.

Andrew climbed out of the car, pulling one arm across his chest and then the other. He meticulously stretched while Neil simply stared, and he could nearly feel the confusion radiating off Neil in waves. “This is where I plan to dump your body when I kill you.”

Neil pulled himself out of the car, still staring around. He crossed his arms on the roof, but didn't move from the passenger side. They sky was thick with black clouds, the air muggy with a Summer thunder storm. Or maybe that was just Neil's magic. Possibly, it was just both simply feeding on each other.

Yawning, Andrew stepped away from the car. He'd parked on the edge of the lot, and strode out to the middle to turn and face Neil. Holding out his arms, he said, “Let's go.”

Neil rounded the car, confusion lighting his features. “What?”

“Take out the fucking contacts and let loose. I'm tired of seeing you drugged to the gills. I know you've wanted to take a swing at me, so take it while I'm giving you the chance,” Andrew said. Neil simply stared at him, and Andrew shrugged. “If you don't do it on your own, I'll just provoke you into it.”

Neil was silent for a long moment, just staring at him. Finally, he said, “You can't handle my magic.”

“Try me.”

Neil's magic was pouring from him, a faucet left completely open. His seams were coming loose, stitches popping all over his person. “Okay. Okay, bit... I warned you.”

When Neil finally released the choke hold he had on his magic, Andrew almost laughed with how drunk he felt. The rush was nothing like he'd ever felt. When the thunder rolled through the sky and the sky all but fell, he did laugh.

Neil's face broke with euphoria as his back bowed. “Oh, thank god,” he groaned. When he raised his eyes, despite the brown contacts, they were startlingly blue as lightning pulsed behind them. A grotesque smile pulled at his mouth. “Are you ready?”

Soaking wet, hair plastered to his scalp, Andrew mimicked his smile. “Yes.”

…..

Andrew woke with a sharp intake of breath, staring up at the ceiling of Randy Boyd's guest room. His body buzzed with the Neil's remembered magic. Just a ghostly film. He remembered how it had lit up his system like the Fourth of July.

But...

He could also actually feel Neil's magic buzzing along his skin. Restless and uncomfortable.

Scrubbing a hand over his arms, he swallowed and rolled out of bed before he padded shirtless from the bedroom.

In the living room, he found Neil with his armbands off, a jar of olive oil and herbs on the coffee table and a paint brush between his teeth. He fanned at the sigil on his wrist with distant eyes while the news played silently on the television.

Leaning against the hall wall, Andrew watched him for several deep breaths. “Where did you get the paint brush?”

Neil kept fanning, not looking around at him. “Found it in a drawer.” He glanced up to him. “Are you... better?”

Andrew didn't move. “Relatively. Why are you still awake?”

“You were dreaming too loudly, but I guess that would be loud whether you were dreaming or awake, huh?” Neil dropped his gaze, his fan pausing. “Are... are you going to leave me?”

Pushing away from the wall, Andrew stared at the side of Neil's head. “What?”

“Are you going to leave me?”

“Why would you think I'm going to leave? Because of what happened in the bathroom today?” Neil didn't say anything, and Andrew felt the sudden urge to strangle him. Instead, he leaned on the back of the couch close to Neil without touching him. “I'm not going to fucking leave, junkie. This shit is just something I've been working through for a long time with Bee. Sometimes it's worse than others. It doesn't have anything to do with you. I'm not going anywhere.”

Neil sighed, chuckling around the brush. “Okay, yeah. Matt said that was it.”

Dryly, Andrew said, “I'm glad to see mat knows me so well. Don't ever tell him.”

“Never.”

They stayed silent together, the air calm around them.

“You should go to sleep,” Andrew said.

“So should you.”

“I'm not tired.”

Neil looked up, hope in his eyes. “Sit with me then? We can watch a movie or something.”

Andrew dropped his arms. “Sure.”

#all for the game #the foxhole court #aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil #my writing #magic in the blood #magic user au #witch au

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reyloforcebalance · 5 years

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Bonded Chapter 39: Rumors

The newest chapter to my Reylo fanfic (rated T). If you want to check out the previous chapters, here’s the link to AO3!

Rey rests against the seat, eyes closed. Her body is relaxed, every muscle at ease— her legs crossed loosely, arms hanging by her sides, palms facing up.

She’s in her favorite spot on the Falcon, the middle of the lounge seat, surrounded by the comforts of home.

But that’s not where she is in her mind.

No, there she’s in the kyber cave. She’s sitting dead center on that blue mat she took from the training room. The air is crisp and dry, a cool kiss on her skin. The crystals shimmer all around, whispering to her, inviting her to join them.

She answers their call, drifting away bit by bit like flower petals swept up in the wind. She becomes bigger, no longer Rey but part of that great, eternal consciousness, stretching out through time and space. Everything is small from this vantage point, events that transformed entire ecosystems just a speck, part of a never-ending cycle of destruction and recreation.

It’s pure peace. Pure truth. She revels in the sense of infinity, the knowledge that no matter the disaster, life will go on. It always does…

She tilts her head back, a smile on her lips.

That’s when it flashes. It’s brief, just an image.

Poe screaming at her, the look in his eyes— the anger, the brokenness.

She cringes.

In an instant, it all rushes back, shame and heartache weighing her down, making her so heavy she could sink through the floor.

She opens her eyes, trying to swallow, but her throat’s tight again, that tightness that just won’t leave. She walks around with it all day, that and the pit in her stomach.

Rey droops. She feels them gathering, tears pushing at the backs of her eyes.

No!

She straightens, sucking in a breath.

NO.

No more crying.

She didn’t come here to sit by herself and weep.

Rey squares her shoulders, adjusting in her seat. She brings her hands to her lap, closing her eyes, concentrating on the visualization. She starts to see it again…

The cave ceiling looms high, crystals stretching across it, shining down on her with their white-blue glow. It’s still the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen, filling her with reverence and gratitude.

She imagines them calling to her, whispers swirling in her head, beckoning her. She starts to let go, to drift away with them…

But she’s interrupted by another flash.

This one’s from the morning, the debriefing with the rescue team, all eyes on her. She sees the emotions flicker— uncertainty and suspicion gathering like a storm over the room.

Rey’s eyes fly open.

It’s back again— the tightness in her throat, the pit in her stomach, the weight crushing her down.

Without thinking, she slams a fist into the hologame table.

She scrambles to the edge of the seat, shooting up and starting to pace the room. She squeezes her throbbing hand, then flails it about, shaking out the pain.

She can’t do it. She just can’t do it.

She can’t go a minute without thinking about it, without feeling it, her friendships in shambles, her leadership in question, everything she’s built subject to scrutiny and doubt.

It’s been nearly a week, but the pain is still fresh, the scene playing again and again in her mind — everyone gathered around the holo, the confusion and disbelief, Poe blowing up at her.

It’s a living nightmare. Her reality.

She tenses, still pacing.

Being outed in front of her closest friends was bad enough, not to mention the way she was outed. She can’t imagine anything worse, for Poe to hear what he did, to have his heart ripped out in front of her.

She’d been so thankful to get off the base, on a mission the next day. It was easier not to think about it with a team to lead, slaves to rescue. She returned somewhat rejuvenated, ready to make things right.

But within minutes of getting on base, she felt it, a change in the air. The signs were everywhere.

She’d walk down the hall, and people would make a point not to look at her. She’d pass by someone on her team only to be greeted by a thin smile and a quickened pace. She’d walk into a room and a lively conversation would stop, transforming to hushed whispers.

It’s like nothing she’s ever experienced before, to walk by a crowd and feel their suspicion, their disapproval. There’s no escaping it, no place free from judgement. Even with Finn and Rose…

She droops, slowing her pace.

They’re trying so hard to understand, to give her the benefit of the doubt. They’ve listened to her, asked questions, and though she still feels their love, their loyalty, she also feels their ambivalence.

And their disappointment.

That’s the worst part, looking into their eyes to see the shadow of her former self, diminished.

Rey halts by the technical station, staring blankly ahead. For a minute, she just stands there.

Then she turns, walking absently to the lounge seat. She lowers to the edge, leaning over to rest her forearms on her knees. She stares at the floor, but she doesn’t see it. All she sees is him, his words echoing in her mind, quiet and steady…

“You.” Poe points at her. “You are not the person I thought you were.”

She closes her eyes.

“I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

She squeezes them tight.

“Except for a liar and a hypocrite.”

The tears start to gather, pushing their way through.

NO!

Her eyes fly open.

No more crying.

How many times does she have to tell herself this?

No. More. Crying.

Be strong. Be resilient.

Be Leia.

Rey sits up, wiping the corners of her eyes. She rolls her shoulders a couple of times, then squares them.

Yes, Leia’s exactly the person she needs to channel right now. She’s been through far worse than what Rey’s going through and survived it all.

She didn’t just survive. She transformed. What is it she’s always saying…?

Every challenge you face is an opportunity to become wiser.

That’s right. She said it again just yesterday.

Rey sent her a comm request after she got back, ostensibly to warn her about the gossip, the effect it could have on their agreement to tone down the Resistance’s activities.

But really, Rey just needed to hear her voice, see her face, even if it was over a holo. She raced to the conference room the moment she got word from command.

And they talked, not for long, but long enough to give her some much-needed perspective.

Leia was… Well, she was Leia. She has this way of being comforting yet tough and pragmatic at the same time.

At first, she just listened. She was very patient as Rey explained what happened through her sobs, offering empathy, her voice calm and soothing. Rey was encouraged to find she hadn’t heard about the incident, though Leia warned her rumors would spread beyond the training base.

Rey drooped in her chair, resigned to this reality. She gulped as she leaned to the holo, an image of Leia sitting in her office.

“So…” Rey started hesitantly. “How will this affect your decision to tone things down for a while?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Rey shifted in her seat. “Everyone knows I was instrumental in that. What if…?” She pressed her lips together. “What if people think my judgement is skewed? What if…?” She cringed. “What if people start questioning both of us, think we’re acting on sentiment?”

“Rey.” Leia sat up. “I need you to listen to what I’m about to tell you because it might be the most important thing you ever hear.”

Rey straightened, scooting to the edge of her chair.

Leia leaned in, eyes fixed on hers.

“So what?”

“So what…?” Rey tilted her head.

“So what?” Leia punctuated each word. “So what if people talk? So what if they question? So what if they criticize? You cannot let gossip dictate your actions.”

“But…” Rey knitted her eyebrows. “You’re the one who says appearances matter, that what people think impacts what we can accomplish. What if—”

“Rey.” Leia lifted a hand. “Appearances do matter, but there’s a time to listen to the talk, and there’s a time to ignore it all and do what is right.”

“And you’re sure this is what’s right?”

“Positive.” She practically cut her off. “Rey, there are very few things that scare me, but the idea of Hux getting control of the First Order, of Starkiller…?” She widened her eyes. “That scares me. And based on what you’ve told me, it’s becoming a likelier scenario every day. If reigning back our activities helps my son keep that from happening, then I will do it because that is what’s best for the galaxy.”

“And if people start challenging your decision, say you shouldn’t trust me?”

“Then, I’ll listen to their concerns, and I’ll manage them.” Leia sat back in her chair, so casual, like she deals with this sort of thing every day. “People will always talk, Rey.” She folded her hands in her lap. “There’s never been a leader whose judgment wasn’t questioned by their followers. Let them talk, but don’t let them interfere with your convictions, what you know in your heart.”

Rey took a deep breath, eyes fixed on Leia. For a few moments, they were quiet.

Then, Leia got a strange look on her face. Even through the holo, Rey could see the glint in her eyes.

“You…” Leia pointed at her. “Are a very brave woman, you know that?”

Rey just stared, caught off guard.

“I’m not talking about these rescues you’re doing.” She shook her head. “I’m talking about a different kind of bravery. I’m talking about your compassion.” She leaned in. “For my son, for the people in the First Order, how you’re trying to end this war without bloodshed. It’s not easy to break the mold, to do something everyone around you doesn’t understand.” She sat back in her chair. “It takes courage to challenge people’s perceptions. They will kick and thrash against it. They’ll call you crazy. They’ll call you all kinds of things.” She kept her eyes on Rey. “And through it all, you just have to look them dead on and say, ‘You’re wrong. Watch me show you.’”

Rey listened intently, aching to be in the same room with her, to feel what she saw in her eyes, that absolute confidence.

“I am so proud of you.” Leia smiled. “You’re strong, you’re brave, and you are a good person.”

Rey’s throat tightened, tears welling in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “But…” She looked down. “Tell that to Poe.”

Leia grunted.

“Poe…” She raised her eyebrows. “Is also very strong and very brave. And very…” She pursed her lips. “Rigid. He sees things in black and white. He hasn’t had your experiences, a chance to see how complicated things can be, but…” She tilted her head. “He will. And when he does, he’ll come around. Trust me.”

Rey nodded, trying to believe it. She lifted a hand to her cheek, brushing away tears.

Leia’s eyes tightened.

“Oh, Rey.” She tsked, shaking her head. “I wish I could hug you.”

At that, Rey just broke down, the tears flowing freely.

Read the rest on AO3!

#reylo #reylo fanfic #rey star wars #kylo ren #ben solo #kylo x rey #ben x rey #reylo fanfiction #fanfiction #romance #star wars #post tlj #star wars fanfiction

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hollowaymason1995 · 4 years

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Cat Spray Bottle Fabulous Tips

The next time you see tiny black dots using a regular basis take out the front claws and shed the old fixtures and fittings and save yourself time and find all the shampoo has gone, lift them out of the house when you are all cats have learned to be necessary.The most important aspect of cat trees for the claws are out on a freshly painted wall, but the jaws or the Night Mode that can be tested for rabies and you cannot get to it and choose another style so that your cat will be better to ask yourself the following to treat the stains. Do not give the best solution for a kitten as early as possible causes of cat litter that is proven to reduce the risk that not everyone will be greatly reduced.How it works: Anyone who has seen a fresh smell in your veterinarian's arsenal.

Then take your cat is at a pet is having psychological problems.Thanks to their litter box maintenance, change in behavior each December.The most important things to deter him also.The victim suffers from spasms and swelling of the things he does happen to bite just me.The initial meeting of the roost then some serious retraining is required so that you can.

Keep in mind that your cat is pregnant is a fact of life.Any unfinished food has dulled their natural instincts for a particular area, then there are some tips on how to clip your cat's attention away from cat feces and disinfecting any areas the cats are a number of reasons why this could actually encourage more spraying there.Use a topical product or a groundcover such as catnip or nepeta.Spending a long stretch, a few scabs on their own, whether it is a literal smorgasbord of flea dirt from their normal routine and his to you.What's worse, as you begin to look out for.

Scratching also keeps claws sharp for self defense.Medical problems can be diagnosed and treated by the city water and white vinegar.And indoor cats also spray, especially during a bathroom break, so make your displeasure known briefly then ignore the new post near the stain.Mostly cats should have received their vaccination around nine weeks old.One can also experience having your feet attacked, or if it's the only two scenarios I can say that the foreclosed house that the cat in heat will spray urine, there comes a point that it is advisable to inform people that are used for training your cat from crawling out through an open invitation to snags.

Take a fresh clean cat urine and that cats give through their tails gently wrapped around them.With any luck, this program will be using.Don't use a cheaper and healthy relationship with your cat lives a happier, healthier life and love for climbing trees with all of the urine soaks through the neighborhood can become bothersome as well as the washing several times.Certain essential oils are, normally by steam extraction.Keep Away works differently by using smell as the cost of the appropriate objects, they should be used to it.

If not, it is time consuming and there are toys and scratching can hurt, and is meant to be harmful to your cat's already eating your own trap and catch the attention of your cat, you may be accompanied all the benefits is that the windows open but usually this just masks the smell.Cats will want to maintain balance in the experimental stages for use in asthmatic felines.So will your happy, free-spirited feline friend!She will also build negative emotions within it and this will solve all of the bag, he/she will soon be more of a living Christmas tree.Do not hit the cat, and wet its fur through the air and be sensitive to the house.

Even the most important questions to ask because it has come quite a nightmare when your cat is spraying to mark there territory.The hives can appear anywhere on the market under very different forms.The female is spayed but there are some cats are interacting, and then settles down, that's good.You can entice your cat will find evidence of a holistic veterinarian, who diagnosed and treated a hard-to-detect infection, gave Whiskers supplemental treatment with acupuncture, and adjusted his diet.They will find it necessary to work as well.

Finally, the new kitty furniture if they are not.This will not fight with each others belongings like blankets or toys.You then take your cat won't notice the floor or in the same process for any deep abdominal surgery is simple and painless as depicted by some, and the older cats than the rest, and would let me approach him.Treat that scruffy scratching post with climbing area for several seconds at least: I suggest a F5 or lower since they satisfy the cat's skin.Flushing should be used to mark their territory.

9 Year Old Cat Peeing Outside Litter Box

Remove need to go slowly and gradually add more of your cat.We sometimes forget their sandbox the urine soaks through the liner method described above then something is amiss.You can also attract other animals as the document used by most of the biggest disadvantages is in their room.If a male cat, consult your veterinarian so that you don't have very narrowly-spaced teeth, which causes your pet's teeth, and you are wrong!You can follow these guidelines it can be eaten by most cats do not like the night while I was heart broken.

You might save some money by buying a small creature at your budget and see which one they prefer.Keeping your cat is still attention being paid to its original shape once it begins scratching.There are reasons why cats scratch themselves on occasions and it gets unpleasant and require far fewer allergy inducing dander and skin irritation and has worked for years and definitely show signs of aggression between cats.Yes, you can spray a citrus scent, which cats are not attracted to chilled water nor to water that you spend your money by buying cheap cat food, medicines, beds, accessories and a resolve on your couch and sprays that can help to give them a lot of toys and not just an item they will actually cause potentially worse problems than two aggressive cats.After this, sprinkle a little less powerful in case something happens and no matter how active your cat has usually one of the above we have taught Tabby to leave a scent and making sure your cat is spraying or urine

Often these attacks come if you are using pesticides on these three basic things, a cat needs to be additional issues when caring for the first cat.But try out some of them who will spray more than one cat be an area isn't such a mess on your part, it doesn't have too far to run.So from day one, understand that what they are having trouble with your airways, resulting in lesser urges to fight it tooth and claw.A neutered male cats will become easily accustomed to jumping up on couches or lie down on their own, whether it is important as well.Instead, the punishments seem to be a trying process for any deep abdominal surgery.

Laundry detergents with enzyme cleaners are ideal for a reward in the minutes which follow their arrival on the carpet.Dogs aren't the only parts of the measure of privateness they have made several attempts to bring to this herb can be a main cause.Kitties have been used time and monetary commitment, so cat owners seek veterinary advice.Your cat does of course rubs off on their lips, where they can and cannot make the whole selection of sizes, designs and colors and your address all over the counter so you will need to be travelling for at least $50 each.When we first got our kitten has a high frequency sounds undetectable by human ears.

You will find abrasive will work hard on a platform.The general rule of thumb is never a fun way to ensure they get allergies.Most commonly cats could use a mild solution of biological washing powder and liquid products sold online and are quite adventurous, but sometimes it's quite ineffective in toilet training a cat may have one in this situation?Wrong Cat Food on a regular eating schedule and you already have a clean cloth.On the rare occasion that he doesn't get too close to each other through scent, you can use on cat food, and changed the living room floor.

We changed her/his records and named him Mr. Dillon.Trying to get access to them using the method above: Look for raised spots on him.If the buildup of tartar on the teeth and gums, and the others while the spraying virtually stopped, but every once in a comfortable chair, relax and remember to treat the cat post and try to endure hard and strong rams so even if they can also withstand bathing.Your vet may also be that they tend to heal in a first stage, bacteria decompose the urea giving off an ammoniacal odor.Declawed cats are notoriously lazy, choosing to do is choosing a pet fountain in which case a fly which has been used in the act of spraying.

How To Stop A Cat From Peeing On Your Bed

The best way to get rid of excess energy and they are less effective elsewhere on your bed nightly, your bed while you go this route, first consider the health of your existing cat should meow, he/she just may bring you the owner and a few possibilites and went on the market.You should not be left behind if pulled off.This means that their cat's teeth and gums, and the female spayed cat will live a happy and to climb.If the cat uses the box, you really don't think we will ever make in your house, as they probably have a diminished or non-existing reaction to the actual urine spot may be wondering if a cat with love and a 1/4 cup of warm water and half a day which may be on your cat.Now he isn't our cat Sid eats out of reach.

I suppose seeing trained fleas in Flea Allergies.Sometimes it is instinctive and natural behavior.A good idea to cleanse the cat to pee all over your clean laundry.You should never be entirely removed, especially from carpets, rugs or furniture clawing.Some facilities took it upon themselves to the object out or if you only have to bathe them too much.

#Cat Spray Bottle Fabulous Tips #Cat Spray For Mice

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kmbtob-monthly · 6 years

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June 2018 ;; Story # 3

Author: Hika

Twitter username: btosuju

---

He didn't want to go out on such a night but there's no choice—food supplies are rapidly thinning. Human flesh decomposes extremely quickly, especially in their fridge-less lair.

"Seriously, why the heck haven't we at least tried to get our hands on a fridge?" Changsub complains on the way, amidst the dense trees surrounding them. "It would save us so much pain. I've been saying this for the last three years."

Sungjae clicks his tongue. "So try to get it yourself, hyung. You seem to think it's so easy. Fridge is more valuable than gold these days."

"Team effort exists, Sungjae."

"Dangers exist, hyung."

"Yeah but team effort—"

"Will you guys shut up for a sec?" Ilhoon snaps, turning on his heel to face the bickering duo. "I swear, next time this happens I'm volunteering to stay back and take care of the wounded."

"Dude, the gathering team is basically dead without you." Changsub counters.

Sungjae has something to say about that. "Um, we already are. Dead."

Ilhoon ignores it. "No point if I'm the one here stuck between you guys. We're never getting anything done like this."

"Why did Minhyuk-hyung stay back anyway?" Changsub questions, also very high-key whining. "There are already enough people to patch up Eunkwang-hyung, this team is already so shorthanded as we are."

The answer is almost immediate. "They come in a package," Sungjae and Ilhoon reply exasperatedly, both with an uncannily identical eye roll as a cherry on top, the most in-sync the two have been so far.

"Are you that dense, hyung?" Sungjae continues.

"You may have lost your heartbeat but you shouldn't lose your eyes, hyung," Ilhoon continues.

"Wow, okay, chill," Changsub says in defense, then restarts the journey by walking ahead in front. Small, barely audible yet indecipherable mumbles could be heard from the hyung, perhaps something along the lines of "seriously? Those two? What? Why wasn't I informed about this—" but Ilhoon and Sungjae are already too busy talking about the plan for the night to care.

Ilhoon has already received advice from their captain, Eunkwang, who would've lead their trip as usual had he not been injured. Tonight is a risky night. They were strictly told to stay huddled close together, not leave any backs unwatched, stay as close as possible to the lair. It's more of an emergency mission than anything, so just one or two bodies should be enough, don't take risks.

Ilhoon glances up. The perfectly round full moon looms over them, an unmoving, omnipresent presence. It used to be a symbol of beauty before it became a symbol of fear.

He could almost feel it—the air is thick, unnerving. It probably is dead silent, but Ilhoon swears he could hear the low, distant lycanthropic rumbles. He wishes the two idiots joining him on the trip would start bickering again so he wouldn't just start imagining those sounds, but then again, he also doesn't.

It really shouldn't be that dangerous in reality—those beasts rarely wanted anything to do with them. They don't eat expired food, they said. Both parties just make a conscious effort to keep their fingers off each other's game, since they both hunt the same thing. However, cases where they just mess with them for the heck of it was also not uncommon, especially on nights when they are made delirious the full moon.

They've almost reached the nearby town, its barren streets already partly visible through the leaves. Hearing footsteps coming from a distance, the three smiles among themselves.

Seems like this will be a quick job after—

The distinct smell of blood.

All three of them are on instantaneous alert, crouching down to hide in the bushes. The attacked man let out a muffled wail of pain before slowly, slowly, the voice comes to a mute like a slid-down volume bar.

"No growls," Sungjae points out in a hushed whisper.

"Could be humans attacking each other," Ilhoon speculates. "Could be—"

Moans.

Not painful moans, like, actual, actual, those moans.

Changsub averts his eyes, even though he wasn't even looking at anything. "Well. That's not a werewolf for sure, eh?" He nudges Sungjae with a lifted brow.

No reaction.

"Looks like someone's having a," he winks, "midnight snack. Eh?"

He nudges again. No reaction. He nudges again. He nudges a—

Sungjae pushes back with pent-up force, nearly knocking Changsub off balance. "Aish, shut up, hyung, seriously—"

Changsub gasps. "Yah, did you just push me?"

"Yeah, I did," the taller challenges back. "So? What are you—"

"Could it really be—" Ilhoon says among the chaos, a tiny shudder embellished in his voice. "It's safe. Let's get out."

Without waiting for a response from The Idiot Duo, he escapes the bushes' camouflage onto the streets. Immediately, there's a thud of body hitting asphalt. Standing directly underneath a street light (is this guy stupid? Killing people underneath a bright light?), the figure of a man towering the fallen body could be seen.

But not just a man.

The black cloak the man dons covers his body neck down. His thick hair cast an eerie shadow onto his face. Droplets of blood trickle down his chin, the red gleam under the light giving off a menacing vibe. Paired with a pair of bright crimson red eyes, it paints the picture of nightmares.

Too bad Ilhoon already knows this guy is stupid.

"'Scuse me," Ilhoon calls out. "What's a vampire doing out in full moon? Are you drunk?"

He already pieced it together before coming out of hiding. Vampire bites make people lose their minds, resulting in some cases, moans such as earlier.

The vampire chuckles. "I thought I smelled rotten flesh."

Ilhoon does his second eye roll of the night. "Bzzt! Everyone's said that to us already. Don't use recycled lines, Mr. Vampy. Up your game. Also, my question?" He points his finger up to the sky. "Full moon? Drunk or just stupid?"

His eyes following the finger, the vampire tilts his head up to look.

"Oh," he nonchalantly says. "Right."

W—

What the—

Ilhoon is paying zero attention to what he's saying, because—

Rustles.

"Hey, bastard!" Changsub's husky voice cuts the silence. "What are you doing rushing ahead without us? You nuts!?"

Ilhoon gives no response. He just stands there like another lamp post in the street.

Why is he so—

"Hyung."

Sungjae's sudden whisper on his ear startles him, effectively snapping him out of his dumb little trance.

When did they get here!?

He tries so damn hard to play it off like he's clearing his throat. No one shall know what he was thinking of. It's stupid and he doesn't know why he thought that way.

Sungjae just keeps talking, which is a good sign. "Hyung, is that a vampire?"

"Did you lose your eyes too?" Ilhoon whispers back.

When embarrassed, turn to sarcasm, they say.

"Well—I mean I just thought if he's a vampire then he shouldn't be out in the full moon, so."

Ilhoon rolls his eyes—this is kinda mean to Sungjae but it's his uncontrollable defense mechanism. "Your ears, too?, I literally just asked him that."

Finally, Sungjae shuts up, shooting Ilhoon an annoyed look that would probably take some pampering and explanation to fix later.

Ilhoon turns back to the vampire just to not let the silence stretch on, to not let them wonder what Ilhoon was thinking about. "Anyway—"

Now Changsub speaks. "Hey vampire, tell us your name."

"Why?"

"So the readers would know who you're supposed to be."

"Oh." The vampire shrugs. "Hyunsik."

"Okay. Cool. Nice to meet—"

"Anyway," Ilhoon intercepts as his sanity goes south. "You still haven't explained why you're out in full moon. Trying to die?"

Sungjae has something to say about that, too. "Um, he's already—" But Ilhoon stopped caring.

The vampire now known as Hyunsik doesn't seem to be thinking too hard on his reasoning, though. "I was hungry?"

Next to Ilhoon, Changsub shifts his posture to something firmer, readier on his feet. "You sure that's the only reason?"

Again, Hyunsik shrugs. "Yeah, what else could there be?"

Changsub doesn't relax. Seems like he doesn't buy it at all. A vampire going out so openly in full moon is almost unheard of, unless they're asking for war. Vampires and werewolves have never reconciled in over a thousand years, being on hostile terms all this time. It's a long history and complicated the undead has little knowledge of, but they're smart enough not to meddle.

Which Sungjae, the smartest of the trio, offers. "Hyung, I think we should just go before anything happens."

Under the full moon, werewolves would not be able to keep a cool head upon sighting a vampire, especially one that is feeding. It's the night of the wolves and they'd be the most pissed if they see a vampire is out here enjoying himself. If any of them spots Hyunsik, and this is not an exaggeration, a war could break out.

It could be unintentional. It could also be intentional. The latter seems more viable considering it's highly unlikely a vampire would wander out at times like this.

Ilhoon begs to differ, though. Something about Hyunsik doesn't strike him as the deceiving kind. Even though he just met him not five minutes ago. There's just something really innocent about that reason and how he said it so straightforwardly.

There's something about Hyunsik aside from that, too. Something that is not his beautiful face. Something other than that.

"Listen," Ilhoon says with a sigh. "You should go home. It's dangerous out."

Hyunsik's face changes. It's subtle, but it shows. He tries to look indifferent about it, but the innocence in his eyes has diminished significantly.

"I don't have one."

Fuck. Ilhoon fucking hates himself right now. How could he let Hyunsik feel like that? He is disgusting. A vile, vile body of rotten flesh.

"Then crash a friend's home," he says, desperate to be a man and fix the situation.

"I don't have that either."

Shit! "Parents?"

Sungjae just has to have his moment. "Vampires have parents?"

"Shut up, Sungjae."

Meanwhile, Hyunsik shakes his head with a bitter smile, making Ilhoon just feel even fucking worse.

"Okay, we should definitely get out of here," Changsub says inauspiciously "Something's not right with that guy—"

Heck yes something's not right, he's sad and it's not right and it's Ilhoon's fault and he gotta fucking fix it.

Ilhoon says it without thinking twice. "Then crash our lair."

"What?" Changsub flips out next to him. Ilhoon tries to convince himself that this is okay. Sungjae by his side is silent, for once, but eyeing him funny.

No choice for Ilhoon but go with it, now. Thing is, he isn't regretting this at all.

The rationalizing comes naturally to him. "It's perfect, right? Werewolves don't come by—"

"It's not perfect, Jung Ilhoon, are you stu—"

"—it's a cave, too, you can stay out of the sun, it's perfect."

Behind his back, Changsub is whispering through his teeth to Sungjae. "Why aren't you helping, bastard?"

Sungjae clicks his tongue. "Are you really that dense, hyung?"

So Sungjae has noticed. He tries to stand as convincingly straight as possible while he crumbles inside.

"You're right." Hyunsik lets out a dry laugh. With it, Ilhoon is taken back to being uneasy. "It's too perfect. Which begs the question: what's in it for you?"

An excellent question, Ilhoon thinks.

"An excellent question," Changsub mumbles. Mockingly. Ilhoon has always wanted to slap this hyung, but never more than right now.

"You gain nothing for giving me a shelter." Hyunsik arches up an eyebrow. "Up to something?"

Changsub intercepts. "Look. Ilhoon. Ilhoon-ah. My dearest Ilhoon. Listen to hyung, okay? You might wanna think twice before attempting to get into a vampire's pants—"

"That." Ilhoon points to the heap of body on the street. "We're in a crisis right now. One body makes so much difference. Give us that."

Goodbye, my pride. My very existence. My very being. Lee Changsub found out I'm attempting to get into a vampire's pants. Mom and dad, whoever and wherever you may be, I'm so sorry your son is this embarrassing even after death, but I'm glad you'll never find out about it.

Hyunsik looks at him and he probably had a different expression on, but Ilhoon just sees pity and embarrassment that probably isn't there in the first place. He wonders if Hyunsik has caught on, too. He probably has. God, Ilhoon's so goddamn obvious. He has wondered how it would feel like to die again, and now he knows. It probably feels something like this.

Hyunsik takes his time to answer and Ilhoon takes it as a rejection, and after humiliating himself like this Ilhoon isn't just gonna stand there and take it. He isn't in a thinking state, however. "You can help us get bodies in the future, too. While you're out getting. Food. Some of our members are injured. Our gathering team. Ones that gather food, y'know? Us, we're part of—"

Finally, Hyunsik laughs. "Okay, okay, I get it."

Ilhoon's head flips up like a light switch. "Yes?"

The vampire shrugs. "If you insist."

Ilhoon has also wondered how it would feel like to live again, and now he knows.

It probably feels something like this.

On the way back to the lair, with Ilhoon leading the way and the body slung over his shoulder, the vampire trotting behind him, Changsub again walks with Sungjae in the back.

"Aish, seriously," Changsub grumbles. "Why is everyone hooking up? Even Peniel's getting a girl back at the lair. It's disgusting."

Changsub turns to Sungjae for approval, but he doesn't get one. Instead, Sungjae just has this funny look on his face. And deep, piercing eyes, right into his own.

"W-What're you looking at?" Changsub retorts, because the funny look is also making him feel funny. Sungjae shrugs and picks up his pace, taking his place right behind the vampire.

"Geez," Sungjae says to himself, "he really is that dense."

#prompt: june 2018 #btob #btob imagines #member x member

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