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deancas-fanfiction · 3 years

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A Daydream Away - Chapter 4

Word Count: 19k+

Summary: After multiple couples go missing from a resort in northern Minnesota, Dean and Cas are forced to pose as a couple to investigate the mysterious entity. As Dean and Cas navigate their fake relationship, it leaves Dean questioning what's real and forces him to confront his feelings for Cas.

A story in which Cas is human, Dean is sometimes an idiot, and Sam acts as matchmaker.

Tags: fake relationship, case fic, sharing a bed, human!cas, Sam ships Dean and Cas, fluff, eventual smut

also available on ao3

Dean awoke to his phone buzzing on the nightstand next to him. He squinted against the morning sun filtering into the room. He could feel that it was still early but he carefully reached for his phone nonetheless. Much like the day before, Cas was practically entangled with Dean. Today he was pressed against Dean's back, with their legs intertwined. Cas' arm was resting over Dean's waist. It all felt very possessive. That thought sent a thrill through Dean. Cas has always seemed like a possessive bastard but knowing he felt possessive over Dean unlocked a lot of complicated feelings that made Dean nearly blush.

The phone buzzed again, and Dean reached for it, careful not to move so much as to jostle Cas. He managed to reach it with his fingertips and dragged it to the edge until he could grab it. Dean unplugged it and saw he had a few texts from Sam.

'I found a potential lead last night at the staff happy hour. Call me tonight and I can fill you in after I finish some research.'

'Don't forget about your dinner reservation tonight at 7. Go to the main lodge and they'll direct you.'

Just as Dean was starting to type out a response, one last message came through. 'Hope you lovebirds are enjoying your honeymoon. Make sure you use protection' followed by a bunch of heart and kissy face emojis.

Dean rolled his eyes and typed out a bitchy response but ultimately assured Sam he'd call him before their dinner reservation. After sending the message, Dean glanced at the clock and saw it wasn't even eight. If they got up now, they may even make it to breakfast in time for the cinnamon rolls Jake and Amy raved about.

"Cas, wake up," Dean half-whispered, shaking him. Cas remained unmoved and fast asleep. "Cas." He said more urgently this time. "Get up." Still no movement. Dean tried a new tactic and shook him a little harder.

Cas frowned and rolled away from Dean, grumbling to himself but still fast asleep. His hair was sticking in different directions and his shirt was bunched up, revealing a tan expanse of skin on his lower back. Dean poked him a few more times but Cas was unmoving and snoring lightly.

Dean rolled his eyes and decided to just get the damn cinnamon rolls himself. He wasn't going to miss out because Cas is a grumpy bastard in the morning. To soften the blow of attempting to wake him before 9, Dean started a pot of coffee in the cabin's kitchen for Cas to enjoy when he awoke. Then he threw on his jacket, grabbed his keys, and was off towards the lodge.

Sure enough, Jake and Amy were correct -- this was the perfect time to grab breakfast. There were few couples and families milling around, otherwise most of the tables were empty and there was no line at the buffet. Dean grabbed two to-go boxes and filled them with eggs and bacon for himself, pancakes and syrup packets for Cas, and of course a few of the large mouthwatering cinnamon rolls set up by the coffee station. He was attempting to close the lid on the full box when he made eye contact with Amy.

"I see you took our advice to get the cinnamon rolls," She smiled and grabbed one for herself.

"You two made them sound so good, how could we resist?" Dean flashed her a victorious smile as the lid gave in and finally shut. "Besides, Cas has a total sweet tooth, there's no way we would ever leave without him trying them."

"Yeah, Jake is the same way. If it were up to him, he would have pure sugar for breakfast. Before we started dating, he would have mountain dew and twizzlers for breakfast."

Dean wrinkled his nose. "That sounds like a college student's wet dream."

Amy threw her head back and laughed. "Precisely! I'm going to use that. The man is in his thirties, sometimes I think he even forgets that." She shook her head, a wistful smile forming on her face. "He wanted to have a candy buffet at our wedding. It took forever to talk him down from that idea."

"A candy bar sounds awesome," Dean pointed out. He paused and looked at her expression. "Oh God -- you don't mean as dessert, do you?"

"No, he wanted that for the dinner buffet!"

Dean laughed loudly. "That's something Cas would do. If we had a wedding -- I mean, a large wedding -- I'm sure he would have preferred if we just serve peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner. They're his favorite."

"That's actually adorable. And it would make for a cheap reception dinner."

Dean nodded in agreement as he poured coffee in a to-go cup in case the cabin coffee isn't up to Cas' standards. "Careful, if he were to hear that, he would totally hold that against me and be all pissy we didn't actually do that. Then I would have no choice but to tell Jake his candy-dinner-buffet is genius."

"Okay, okay truce! I won't say anything about the sandwiches." She responded, laughing.

Dean returned her smile. "Good thinking. You wouldn't want twizzlers and mountain dew as your wedding dinner." He grabbed the to-go boxes and coffee carrier, carefully balancing them in his arms. "Well, I better bring this back to Cas before the cinnamon rolls cool down. I know he'd want to experience them in their warm and gooey glory."

"Of course, enjoy! Tell him I say hi and that's it -- nothing else at all relating to sandwiches." She winked.

Dean playfully rolled his eyes and slowly made his way back to the car, without catching sight of Sam. Probably for the better anyway, he'd likely make some kind of dick comment about bringing Cas breakfast in bed. Which -- okay, may be true. But that's only because Cas refused to wake up this morning and he didn't want to miss out on the famous cinnamon rolls. And sure, if he was with Sam, he wouldn't have brought him anything back and would have just said "you snooze, you lose, Sammy. You can eat oatmeal and yogurt like the rest of the late sleepers." But that was part of being the older brother -- you get free reign to be a dick sometimes.

And! Cas is his fake husband! This is totally something a married couple would do for each other, Dean reasoned. So it's not weird or a romantic gesture. And okay, maybe there was a moment last night after they went sledding down the hill. At least, to him it felt like there was a moment where he wanted to kiss Cas and Cas -- well, it seemed like Cas wanted that, too. Or maybe it was just part of the case. There's really no way to know, except y'know, talking about it. But that sounded about as appealing as eating one of Sam's "nutrient rich" meals, whatever the hell those consisted of. All Dean knew was that it was mostly of veggies and no meat, so he didn't want any part in it.

Regardless, Dean wasn't going to be the one to bring it up. If he was imagining something between them, he'd never be able to recover from the embarrassment. Besides, he didn't want to ruin their friendship. For the first time, Cas has agreed to stay with them, and Dean refuses to do or say anything that would make Cas uncomfortable, thus driving him out of the bunker and away from Dean. Not for the first time in the last few days, he bitterly wished he knew what was going on in Cas' head.

By the time Dean returned to the cabin, Cas was sitting up in bed, blurry eyed with a frown etched on his face.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Dean chirped, setting the food down on the bed.

"Do I smell coffee?" Cas grunted.

"Sure do. I put a pot on and brought you a cup from the lodge. Here you go," He handed over the cardboard cup and settled next to him on the bed. Cas' frown eased as he began gulping down the coffee. "I tried waking you so we could get cinnamon rolls, but you were not having it."

"Sorry," Cas said sheepishly. "I don't even remember."

"You and your damn sleep," Dean muttered, opening the cartons of food. "Good thing you have a really thoughtful husband who ventures out into the frozen tundra that is northern Minnesota to obtain cinnamon rolls."

"Yes, good thing." Cas agreed softly. He tipped his cup back, draining the remaining of his coffee.

"Jesus, Cas. It's been like two minutes."

"It's good coffee. If you want me to also be a 'thoughtful husband,' then you should be thankful for my high caffeine intake first thing in the morning."

"Yeah, I remember that time we ran out of coffee at the bunker. You were on a warpath. Sam hid in the dungeon because you nearly called him an 'abomination' again."

"Yes, Dean. I recall. I already apologized to your brother for that."

Dean took a bite of bacon, amused. "Hey, I thought it was funny. I'm just glad you didn't turn on me, too."

"You're the one that went to the store to supply me with more coffee."

"Jesus, you make it sound like I'm your dealer or something."

"You may as well be," He pointed out, grabbing Dean's cup of coffee and taking a long drink of it.

"Yeah, yeah. Eat your damn breakfast. Those cinnamon rolls better be worth the trouble."

Cas opened his mouth, surely to respond with some sassy comment but at the last moment thought better of it and took a large bite of the cinnamon roll. The sound that emitted from his mouth was absolutely sinful.

"Oh my God, Dean." He moaned. "This is amazing."

"You want a room for just the two of you?"

"What do you mean?" Cas tilted his head as he chewed thoughtfully. "We have a room, we're in it right now."

"I -- never mind, Cas. It was a joke. It's that good, huh?"

"Yes, you must try it." He tore off a piece of his cinnamon roll and held it up to Dean's mouth. "Eat it." He ordered.

And wow, okay. The demanding tone from Cas was really working for Dean. He hesitantly leaned forward and took the piece into his mouth. His tongue momentarily brushed against Cas' finger and he swore that he saw Cas' pupils dilate. Huh.

"Yeah, 's good, Cas."

Cas looked pleased with himself and continued eating it in silence, the only sounds in the room were his small moans as he finished it off. Dean felt dazed and forced himself to finish his own breakfast.

"Dean, you have --"

"What?"

"Just, let me -- you have icing on your mouth." Cas leaned forward so he was in Dean's space and slowly dragged his finger along Dean's bottom lip. Against his lip, the pad of his finger felt calloused and rough. Cas' gaze flickered to Dean's lips before they focused on Dean's eyes.

Wait. Is he going to -- ? Dean's brain immediately stopped working as Cas held his gaze and put his finger in his mouth, sucking the frosting off it. Holy fuck, if that wasn't the hottest thing he'd ever seen. Dean knew his mouth was agape and he probably looked like an idiot but he couldn't find the strength to care. Cas basically licked frosting off of him. His pink, plump lips were wrapped around his long finger and Dean's brain not-so-helpfully supplied a lot of fantasies relating to that.

Cas pulled his finger out of his mouth and went back to drinking Dean's coffee with a little smirk on his face. Asshole.

"I, uh -- I'm going to take a shower." Dean mumbled and hurried out of the room.

Dean hurried from the room and locked himself in the bathroom. He leaned against the heavy oak door and took a deep breath. Was it his imagination or was Cas flirting with him? Why else would he suck the icing off his finger like that? Sure, Cas used to have that whole 'innocent angel' going for him but now he's human and he actually acts like it. Probably Dean's bad influence, but whatever. The point is Cas had to know what he was doing, right? No one in their right mind would clean icing from their friend's face and then lick it off if they didn't want to be more than friends.

The worst part is that it was really fucking hot. Dean was already struggling to suppress his feelings for Cas and that nearly pornographic display was really not helping. But maybe he didn't need to actively suppress those feelings, not if Cas felt the same way. But did he? Dean still couldn't be sure. If Cas truly was messing around or didn't understand the connotation of his actions, then Dean would be fucking mortified. Regardless, he couldn't keep sitting around waiting for something to happen between them. So he'll push their boundaries a little and see how Cas reacts. Hopefully then he'll get a better idea of where they stand.

Dean rolled his eyes at himself for how complicated he's making this. If only he felt comfortable straight up asking Cas, but that's never been his style. At last, he peeled himself from the door and turned on the shower. He undressed and briefly considered taking an ice-cold shower to calm himself down, but he changed his mind. Turning the temperature dial to hot, he decided to address his not-so-little problem. After all, he would need to have his mind clear if he was going to read Cas for any indications of his feelings.

He stepped under the shower and nearly groaned as the hot water washed over him. The water pressure was excellent and soothed his sore muscles. His thoughts immediately turned to Cas as he began to stroke himself. The image of Cas’ pink lips sucking on his finger filled his mind as he expertly flicked his wrist around the tip. He imagined those lips around him instead and within no time he was groaning Cas’ name as he spilled into his fist.

---

Dean and Cas spent their afternoon lounging on the couch watching movies. Once Cas became human, Dean compiled a list of movies that Cas needed to watch. Most were movies that came out after Metatron uploaded all of the pop culture references into his mind so that way Cas could truly watch something for the first time. However, Dean snuck a few of his favorites onto the list like the Harry Potter series, Lord of the Rings, and a few spaghetti westerns. When Dean saw there was a Star Wars marathon on tv (another series on the list) Dean declared they would be having a lazy afternoon until it was time for the bourbon tasting.

This brings them to where they are now: sitting with their backs against opposite arms of the couch, legs tangled together under a large shared blanket and the box of chocolates from their honeymoon package sitting half eaten between the two.

Cas grabbed another piece of chocolate out of the heart shaped box, humming happily as he chewed.

"Which character is your favorite?" Cas asked, as he swallowed the candy.

"Han Solo, hands down."

"I should have known."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on, Dean. The parallels between you and his character are so obvious. You have the whole 'I'm better off alone' thing going for you, even though deep down you're really caring and would do anything to save your family."

Right. Cas has always been able to read him perfectly. "Whatever, man. Han Solo is cool. And Harrison Ford is a good looking dude." Dean snuck a glance at Cas to see if he'd react to that.

"I suppose," Cas acknowledged, tilting his head as he surveyed Dean. If anything, he seemed curious with a glint in his bright eyes.

"So, uh - let me guess. Your favorite character is Princess Leia?" Dean ventured.

"Actually, yes. She's always out for the victory of many, rather than personal gain. Leia is very brave and independent, too."

"Yeah, I can see why she would be your favorite. It's like you -- always working towards the greater good."

Cas smiled at Dean and his eyes crinkled around the corners. He looked so happy and so human in this moment that Dean was almost tempted to just blurt out his feelings for the man. Almost.

Instead, he threw a piece of chocolate at Cas, which he caught in his mouth, looking very pleased with himself. "You're a dork," Dean said fondly, rolling his eyes.

"I know."

"Did you just Han Solo me?"

Cas looked amused and just turned his attention back to the movie. That asshole totally Han Solo'd him.

- - -

By the time the movie ended, it was nearly time for the bourbon tasting. Dean forced himself up from the couch that had no business being so comfortable, so he could get dressed for the day. He quickly threw on some dark jeans, a t-shirt and a blue button down, which he left open. Deeming it satisfactory for the day, he threw on a coat and waited by the door for Cas to be ready.

While he waited, Dean shot off a text to Sam asking how research was going. Sam immediately responded with 'slow' and an eye rolling emoji. Dean was about to reply and rub it in Sam's face that he gets to go drink bourbon while Sam is stuck reading tomes, but it was at that moment that Cas came out of the bathroom. He was clad in black jeans that were mouthwateringly tight and one of Dean's Zepp shirts. He had become so accustomed to Cas' pristine suit and tie ensemble that sometimes seeing him dressed so casually in Dean's clothes, nonetheless, causes Dean's brain to stop working.

"Am I underdressed?" Cas asked, eyeing Dean warily. "Should I throw on a button down like you?"

"God, no." Dean said, internally wincing at the hoarseness of his voice. "I mean -- it's just a bourbon tasting. You don't have to dress up or anything." Besides, it would be an absolute crime to cover those arms. They were tanned and muscly and Cas should always wear t-shirts to show them off because damn. Dean so badly wanted to run his hands along them, feeling the muscles flex under his touch.

Cas threw on his jacket, interrupting Dean's train of thought. God, it's like he reverted back to a 14-year old's body with the way it constantly responds to Cas.

"Ready?"

"Ready," Cas confirmed, sliding on his Grand View mittens with a soft smile.

The bourbon tasting wasn't very crowded. High-top tables filled the room but only about seventy-five percent were filled. Dean and Cas grabbed a table towards the back of the room so they could keep an eye on everyone. Each table only had 2 chairs which were facing towards the front where the speaker would be. Dean realized this must be another 'couples only' event. The room was dimly lit with dark wood paneled walls, making it feel very warm and intimate. Small table lamps were on each table, along with two flights of bourbon glasses with 5 shot glasses each.

"Cas, are you going to be able to handle this? 5 shots of bourbon is a lot, this shit is strong. I don't want to have to carry you out of here."

Cas sat in the chair to the right and rolled his eyes. "I can handle my liquor just fine, Dean. You've taught me well."

"Hell, I suppose that's true." Dean joined him, sitting in the remaining chair. He scooted his chair closer to Cas and rested his arm on the back of Cas' chair.

"Right," Cas murmured. "We better get in character." He leaned in against Dean's side and rested his hand on Dean's upper thigh. It was enough inches above the knee that it certainly wasn't an innocent placement. His hand was a welcome weight on his thigh and Dean moved his arm so as to rest his hand on Cas' shoulder. He got a small smile in response, letting him know that was okay so Dean rubbed his thumb in circles against it. A soft sigh escaped Cas' mouth which was frankly adorable.

"Did Sam say he found anything else about his lead?" Cas asked, leaning into Dean's ear. Goosebumps prickled along his neck in response.

"Not yet," Dean muttered. "He said he's doing research but hasn't found anything concrete. We'll give him a call after this, we'll have some time to kill before our dinner reservations."

Cas nodded. "I feel like we haven't done much to help move this case along. I do not want Sam to feel like he's doing all of the work."

"I know. But we knew we were unlikely to get any information from guests. All we can really do is try to lure whatever it is and go from there."

"I suppose." Cas chewed on his bottom lip and Dean wanted nothing more than to release his bottom lip and kiss it. Maybe bite it, then smooth it over with a swipe of his tongue. What kind of sounds would Cas make?

"Dean."

"Hmm?" Dean dragged his eyes from Cas' lips to his eyes. His pupils were blown wide, leaving only a small ring of blue. Another look he wasn't used to reading on Cas.

"Kiss me."

"What?"

"We need to move the case along. Kiss me."

Right. The case. That's why Cas wants to kiss him. No other reason. Dean sighed, a little dejected. He was hoping to avoid this because he knows once he does, it's going to be torture knowing what it's like to kiss Cas without being able to do it again whenever he wants.

"Are you su--?" Dean didn't get to finish his sentence because with a frustrated growl, Cas grabbed the collar of Dean's shirt and pulled him in, pressing their lips together. It started chaste. A dry press of their lips, soft and warm and innocent. Then Cas sighed into Dean's mouth and made a small sound in the back of his throat. And that made Dean absolutely feral.

His fingers pressed into Cas' hips as he licked into his mouth. He was warm and tasted like honey and chocolate. The smell of his aftershave surrounded him, and it was all just so delicious. Their lips perfectly slotted together, and the kiss was slow and languid, like they all had night and could take their time exploring each other. Dean always imagined their first kiss would be frantic and rough, filled with the unresolved sexual tension from over the course of ten years. He never imagined it could be so sweet, yet so hot. It was everything he'd been waiting for and so much more. Except that it still wasn't enough. He needed more -- he needed to feel Cas against him, he needed to explore every part of him and kiss him so hard that he becomes dazed and all he can do is chant Dean's name like a prayer.

Distantly, a door slammed shut, reminding the two that they were in a very public place, and not in the privacy of their cabin. They jumped apart, flushed and hearts pounding. Dean stared at Cas, his lips were parted, red and swollen, as he breathed heavily.

Dean momentarily closed his eyes, breathing through his nose as he tried to calm his body down. The last thing he needed was for someone to see he was rock hard at a bourbon tasting. He peeked at Cas, who looked just as debauched.

"Jesus, Cas." Dean groaned. One kiss and he was completely hooked. How the hell would he ever be able to look at Cas and his mouth and not think about kissing him?

"Sorry," He nervously licked his lips. "I may have gotten carried away."

"You -- ? No, man. If anything, I got carried away. It's just -- ah, it's been a while since someone kissed me like that. That's all."

Cas nodded, his small smile back. "I'm glad I didn't make you uncomfortable."

Dean laughed humorlessly. In reality, it just solidified his attraction for the guy and he's pretty sure that kiss is going to be the thing that ultimately kills him. "If anything, we just made sure we're target number one."

Something flickered on Cas' face, but it was gone before he could get a good read on it. Before he could analyze too heavily, the speaker greeted everyone and began giving an overview of the brands of bourbon poured out in front of them.

Dean half-listened as he introduced himself and gave his credentials. He told Cas it had been a while since he'd been kissed like that, but truthfully had he ever been kissed like that? He didn't think so.

"The first glass in front of you is Old Forester 1897. From Kentucky, Old Forester is known for making affordable high-quality bourbon," The man explained. "Tasting this first glass, you should note rich vanilla with roasted coffee notes and spiced overnotes. This one is big and bold, with a dark caramel finish. Take the next few minutes to try this one and discuss it with your partner. I recommend trying it in sips, focusing on each of the flavors I mentioned. Enjoy!"

Quiet conversation broke out in the room. Dean sniffed the amber liquid and his mouth nearly watered. Typically, he drinks the cheap stuff because that's what is always around. So, having the opportunity to taste some high-quality bourbon put Dean in an instant good mood. Any awkwardness from the kiss quickly faded and Dean was grateful for the distraction.

"Cheers," Dean said happily. He clanked his shot glass against Cas and drank it all in one go. It burned down his throat into his chest and instantly he felt the warmth spread through him. And now that the guy mentioned it, yeah, he could taste the hint of caramel.

"You were supposed to sip it." Cas frowned. "Not drink it all at once."

"It was just a recommendation, Cas. You can drink it however you want."

Cas didn't look happy with Dean's answer and took another sip of the bourbon. Dean watched as Cas' throat swallowed the bourbon and suddenly he was regretting drinking it all in one go. Watching Cas savor the drink made him wish he had something to distract himself with.

He quickly tore his eyes away from Cas' mouth for the millionth time that day. "What do you think, Cas?"

"I like it. It makes me feel...warm."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, bourbon will do that to you. It's the best drink to have in winter for that exact reason."

The bourbon man clapped his hands together to gather everyone's attention. "I see most of you have finished the 1897, so I'll move forward onto the next one. This next one is perfect for the colder months - "

Dean lifted his eyebrows at Cas as if to say see, I told you so. Cas smiled and turned his attention back to the speaker.

" - it is another Old Forester bourbon, but this one is the 1910. It has notes of cherry, dark chocolate, maple syrup and a hint of spice. For those of you who prefer sweet to spice, this is the bourbon for you." He continued sharing trivia about the Old Forester brand and the barrels used to make these bottles. "Now that I've given you all time to clear your taste pallets, enjoy the 1910!"

Dean focused this time on savoring the glass instead of drinking it in one large gulp. He had to admit, Cas was right. When he took the time to savor the flavors he could actually pick up on the cherry and dark chocolate. Before all he tasted was the burn of it.

"I really like this one." Cas announced. His cheeks were a little pink from the alcohol which Dean thought was endearing as hell. "I like the maple syrup flavor."

"When we get home, I'll have to introduce you to the finer bottles of whiskey I've been saving for a special occasion. You'll love it."

Cas titled his head. "But you said you're saving it for a special occasion?"

"Hell, Cas. We saved the world and we're all together. It can't get more special than that."

"I suppose not."

The rest of the tasting continued the same. The speaker would explain the bourbon they were tasting and include some interesting facts (all bourbon is whiskey but not all whiskey is bourbon) and sometimes some gross ones (like before there were strict FDA regulations, distilleries used to include substances like tobacco spit and dirt in their whiskey barrels for flavor) and by the time they finished their fifth and final glass, Dean and Cas were feeling the effects of the bourbon. Cas more so, his speech was a little slurred but he could hold himself upright just fine. He was in that perfect tipsy zone and Dean wasn't far behind him.

The lodge offered a free shuttle service for everyone back to their cabins so the guests wouldn't have to stumble back to their cabins in the cold. Dean happily took them up on that service because he knew he wasn't in the right state to drive. The shuttle was a small bus with only a few rows of seats. They grabbed a seat in the back while a few of the other couples from the class climbed in.

With a low rumble, the shuttle started and lurched forward. It headed along the road towards Dean and Cas' cabin, making stops along the way for the other guests. Cas leaned into Dean's side and sighed happily, nuzzling his face in the crook of Dean's shoulder.

"Mmm, 's nice." His voice was muffled against Dean's coat. "You're warm."

"You're drunk."

"Just a little," He pressed a kiss to his shoulder and Dean's breath hitched. Was this part of the act or was this Cas with his guard down? He leaned more into Dean and gripped Dean's arm. To any onlooker, there would be no doubt they're a couple. That thought sent a little thrill through Dean, secretly pleased by that idea. Who knew he was so possessive?

The bus stopped at the access road leading up to their cabin, so Dean nudged Cas and ushered him off the bus. They stepped out into the cold and Dean felt it sober him up a little. Cas must have felt the same because he was holding himself up straighter and his eyes seemed a little less cloudy. They trudged up the road leading to their cabin and Dean grabbed a hold of Cas' hand, noting the small smile which formed.

"Should we call Sam?"

"Yes, good idea." Dean pulled out his phone with his free hand and dialed Sam's number. It rang a few times then went to voicemail. "Did he reject my call?"

"That seems very out of character for Sam."

Dean tried again. On the second ring he picked up, sounding out of breath. "Dean?"

"Dude, did you reject my call?"

"Uh, sorry. I was - uh in the middle of something."

Dean and Cas exchanged a confused look. "Why are you out of breath? I know you're not running in this weather."

"No reason. I just -- what's up? Are you guys alright?"

"Dean and I drank bourbon at the tasting and now I feel really warm," Cas announced.

"Are you guys drunk?" Sam sounded amused.

"No!" They both said in unison.

"Just, tell me about the lead you found."

"Oh, right! I don't really know much yet. But last night at happy hour the staff was talking about local legends and there was this one that targets young people in love. I don't remember the name of it, but it sounded like it fit the bill. The locals didn't know much that sounded helpful so I'm having Donna look into it."

"That sounds promising," Cas agreed. "Do you remember any other details?"

"Not any that are helpful. I had to really sift through a lot of stuff that isn't our kind of thing. You know how these legends get so twisted over the years."

"Well, keep us posted if Donna finds anything."

"Yeah, will do. Just hang tight until --"

A loud crash echoed over the phone and a woman's voice carried through, saying something intelligible.

"Sam." Dean warned. "Who's there with you?"

"Um --"

"So help me -- if you are with another woman I'm going to be pissed. Eileen is so beyond your league and the fact that you're even willing to risk that..."

"Shit." Sam sighed over the phone. "Switch to facetime."

Dean did as Sam said and was greeted with Sam's anxious face. "So uh -- Eileen is here." He turned the camera and was greeted by Eileen smiling sheepishly.

Cas signed something to Eileen and she laughed in response. Dean focused the camera back on his face so Eileen could read his lips. "What are you doing in Minnesota?"

"My hunt in Iowa wrapped up early, so I came up here to join Sam."

"I thought your hunt was in Ohio?" Cas questioned.

Eileen had a look that was equal parts sympathy and panic on her face as she handed the phone back to Sam.

"Sam, what the hell? Was Eileen not actually on a hunt?"

"No." He admitted. "She wasn't."

"Then why the hell did you send us on this hunt when you two could have done it?"

Now Sam just looked uncomfortable and Dean suddenly realized what was going on. "You've got to be kidding me." Sam opened his mouth to respond but Dean cut him off. "Nope. Not discussing this with you. Not now, not ever. We have to go, keep us updated on the case."

"Bye!" Eileen yelled from the background before the screen went black.

"I don't understand what just happened." Cas said, looking genuinely confused. "What did Sam do?"

"He set us up! To take this case when he and Eileen could have done it."

"But what did he set us up with?"

"Each other, Cas." Dean said strained.

"Oh." He squeaked and blushed furiously.

Oh.

Maybe he wasn't going to kill Sam after all.

#destiel fanfiction #deancas #destiel #destiel fluff #destiel fanfic #fake dating #dean and cas #fanfiction #supernatural #spn

14 notes · View notes

wangxianfics · 4 years

Note

Hiiiiiii!!!!!!! We all know that wwx is an oblivious gremlin when it comes to his feelings so have you ever come across any fics where he is aware of his feelings early on and isn’t as oblivious? It doesn’t matter what era or au or whatever! Thank you💙💙💙💙💙

Hi nonny!

Here goes our recs for “Not So Oblivious!WWX” :

This is a Love Song by brooklinegirl (20K, Explicit)

(Canon Divergence, Gusu School Days, Early!Wangxian, First Kiss, Feelings Realization, From the Beginning Onwards, Epic Romance)

Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan, from beginning to end.

❤️ vinegar jug by dandelion_san (5K, General)

(Time Travel, LWJ meets LWJ, Older!LWJ, Jealous!LWJ, Smitten!WWX, Humor)

Wei Wuxian gains a taste of first love for the future Lan Wangji, following him like an adoring puppy. The present Lan Wangji chugs vinegar and tries his best not to kill his future self, or Jiang Cheng.

@dandelion-san

❤️ Pigtail Pulling by protos_metazu_izon (3+K, General)

(Gusu School Days, Teen Wangxian, Fluff, Humor, Beautiful!WWX, POV LWJ)

“Tell me I’m beautiful, Lan er-gege!”

“You are well aware you are beautiful,” Lan Wangji says.

Wei Wuxian trips over Jiang Wanyin and sends both of them to the ground in a tangle of limbs and bruises.

@stopaskingme

❤️ Romeo, oh! Romeo. Whyfore art thou-WEI WUXIAN?!?! by mondengel (1K, General)

(Gusu School Days, Teen!Wangxian, PDA, Humor)

WangXian happens a lot sooner and Lan Qiren is suffering.

@mondengel

Spark and Kindling by longleggedgit (7K, Mature)

(Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Wangxian Evolution, Angst With a Happy Ending)

When they reached the water, Lan Wangji turned to face him, saying nothing.

“Oh, fine.” Wei Wuxian gave him an exasperated look—as if Lan Wangji were the unreasonable one—and kept walking, toward a stretch of boulders along a bend in the riverbank. “Will your delicate sensibilities remain unassaulted if I bathe over here?”

Lan Wangji merely waited. With a final eyeroll, Wei Wuxian disappeared around the bend, already untying his belt as he went.

“The Lan Clan is so prudish,” he said.

---

Moments in between that brought Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian together.

feed the fire in my soul by ShootMeDead (3+K, Mature)

(Canon Divergence, Gusu School Days, Secret Relationship, Secret Marriage)

Maybe, Wei Wuxian muses, he shouldn't have brought up Lan ancestors and traditions as references.

But Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian learns, flushes so prettily when he was annoyed, his voice trembles just the teeniest amount when he was passionate, his hands curls into fists as he exercised his vaunted self-control when Wei Wuxian was being particularly obnoxious. And Wei Wuxian wants.

Aka, the one where wangxian gets together in Cloud Recesses, and this changes everything.

@burningsoprettily

Free Falling Forever by ShootMeDead (4+K, Teen)

(Canon Divergence, Humor, Protective Siblings, Gusu School Days, Teen!Wangxian, JYL Ships It)

Lan Wangji is infamous in the cultivation world. Wei Wuxian is a fan of the Twin Jades of Lan.

They meet for the first time in Cloud Recesses.

Or, pigtail pulling + mooning = wangxian.

[EXCERPT]

A sound closely resembling a squeak comes from Wei Wuxian as Lan Wangji glances at him. A disciple at the back snorts quietly.

@burningsoprettily

Marital Prospects by Vamillepudding (19K, General)

(Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives, Romantic Comedy, Misunderstandings)

Jin Ling's birth is the happiest occasion of Jin Zixuan's life. But every gold spoon has some rust: Wei Wuxian has taken up residence too. However, Jin Zixuan has a fool-proof plan to get Wei Wuxian out of his life for good: he's going to find him a spouse. And he's got the perfect person in mind: Nie Mingjue.

Lan Wangji has resigned himself to losing the love of his life without saying a word.

@vamillepudding

to arrive late is better than not to arrive at all by Moominmammashandbag (35K, Mature)

(Soulmates, Hanahaki Disease, Canon Divergence, Chronic Illness, Feelings Realization, LWJ says Fuck)

"Lan WangJi is not sure he can bear meeting with a matchmaker yet again, but at the same time, if he wasn’t going to care deeply about the person he was going to marry, he could just as well have settled for Wei Wuxian six years ago ." or, Lan WangJi goes to a Discussion Conference and his soulmate is there. His soulmate, whom he doesn't love.

I am lonely for you by protos_metazu_ison (11K, Teen)

(POV LWJ, Curses)

For as long as Lan Wangji has been alive, he has been ruled by the family curse. He knows he will doom the one he gives his heart to. It is the reason the only life he’s known is within the four walls of the Jingshi.

That is, until a stranger slings one leg over the wall; two jars of liquor dangling from his hand and calling out a tentative hello.

Modern AU

puzzle pieces by yuisaki (6+K, Teen)

(Modern AU, College AU, Roommates, Friends to Lovers, Seduction, Pining, Sharing Clothes, Getting Together, POV LWJ)

“Sorry, I, uh. Laundry day caught up to me before I could catch up with it. I saw this shirt left in the washer a few days ago, and—“ Wei Ying blinks up at Lan Zhan through dark eyelashes that he wants to kiss, maybe, and gives him an uncharacteristically hesitant smile. “Do you mind?”

I mind the fact that we are not married, Lan Zhan thinks.

Wei Ying keeps borrowing Lan Zhan’s clothes. It is only mildly driving him insane.

@yuisakii

felt this was by crowing (10K, Explicit)

(Modern AU, College AU, Friends With Benefits, Praise Kink, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together)

The dim light in the corridor isn't much better, Wei Ying can't see Lan Zhan's face at all. He forces himself to laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "Lan Zhan! You can not misunderstand. I did have a teeny, tiny crush on you but that was just in the beginning."

Lan Zhan's voice is small, barely audible. "In the beginning?"

And then, louder, "Wei Ying…...had a crush on me? I thought - your brother often says things to rile people up."

Wei Ying wants to sink into the floor at his own foolish oversight. Of course, Lan - Gossip is forbidden - Zhan wouldn't take a drunk person, let alone Jiang Cheng at his word.

With a sigh, he readies to lie in the grave of his own making. "Aiya, Lan Zhan, have you even looked at yourself? You were mean and hot. Of course, I was into that."

[Lan Zhan and Wei Ying stumble their way into a relationship]

My Land Beneath Me by longleggedgit (30K, Explicit)

(Modern AU, Best Friends, Pining, Friends To Lovers)

Wei Wuxian gets expelled from college and sent abroad in shame after getting caught up in a scandal. Lan Zhan follows him.

❤️ Tempo Rubato by Spodumene (108K, Explicit)

(Modern AU, High School AU, Persuasion AU, Teen!Wangxian, Separation, Depression, Miscommunication, Self-Harm, Reconciliation, Emotional Roller Coaster, Angst With a Happy Ending)

Tempo Rubato: Italian; Stolen Time; The musical practice of diverging from the unrelenting and gradual rhythm for a short period of time in a piece, allowing for solo freedom.

Lan Wangji starts high school in perfect step with the rhythm of his uncle's expectations and his duty to his family.

He doesn't quite stay that way.

@spodumene

❤️ Only Fools Rush In by mrsronweasley (28K, Explicit)

(Modern AU, Woke Up Married, Drunken Confessions, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, What Happens in Vegas etc etc, Smut With Feelings)

Lan Zhan watches as Wei Ying's eyes track down his body until… "Lan Zhan," he says quietly. "What is that on your finger?"

Lan Zhan frowns and looks down. "That," he says, then stops. Something cold trickles down the back of his neck. "That is a ring." His eyes automatically go to Wei Ying's left hand, where… "Wei Ying."

Wei Ying, being the brilliant man that he is, is already ahead of him. "Holy shit."

Lan Zhan clears his throat.

They are in Las Vegas. And now they have rings on their fingers.

There is only one explanation for this. One simple, idiotic, ridiculous explanation.

"We got fucking married?!"

also, check out our early!wangxian and notsooblivious!wwx tags for plenty other similar fics that didn’t make it to the list!

#Anonymous #ask #masterpost #notsooblivious!wwx #early!wangxian #teen!wangxian

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scottspack · 4 years

Text

SO YOU JUST FINISHED THE UNTAMED AND YOU WANT TO READ SOME FIC

Congratulations Jen @jlf23tumble on finishing The Untamed (tomorrow)! Now that you’re done with the show (tomorrow), you can finally dive into the wide and wonderful world of untamed fic!!! I’m ecstatic to be personally curating your reading experience! LET’S BEGIN!

I’ve started off with a list of 5 fics I think you should read in this specific order to 1. get some resolution from the end of the show and 2. get you acclimated to untamed fics! Then, I’ve listed a bunch of fics in different categories for your perusal to read at your leisure! This is an unbelievably long post holy shit brace yourself.

I’m like fairly certain that all of these follow the tv show canon BUT also its very typical for authors to combine many aspects of all of the different forms of canons to their liking. Therefore, I feel like I need to give a quick explanation of a couple things from the novel that show up frequently in fics that idk if you know already or not:

In the book, when Wei Wuxian is resurrected, he is brought back in Mo Xuanyu’s actual body and has his face and everything. Mo Xuanyu was pretty young when he died, I wanna say maybe 17 or 18??? and he was also short and pretty and flamboyantly gay. This is where the references to their crazy height difference come from, but again, I think I tried to include mostly fics that skew more heavily to the tv version where WWX keeps his same body and he and LWJ are more evenly matched physically.

Its novel canon that LWJ smells like sandalwood incense and has golden colored eyes. This is mentioned in like almost every single wangxian fic ive ever read, even if the author said they were strictly adhering to show canon lol

At the end of the novel wangxian run away together and elope! Obviously in the show that’s not how it goes down, but I think a couple of the fics I’ve recced might mention it in passing. (Oh also when they elope they make a pact to fuck “everyday,” a concept that might be mentioned as well.

Obviously, we have to kick it off with some fics that both reunite wangxian and give more resolution to the actual show. If you’re like me, it both took you a while to get all the way through the show AND took 100% of your brain power to remember all of the characters and plot lines. If that’s that case: these fics should be helpful in serving as a kind of emotional refresher for the show to wrap up some loose ends and to dive deeper into some of the things the show glosses over for one reason or another!

1. A Lot of Edges Called Perhaps by hansbekhart (Wangxian, E, 21k)

The funny part is - and it is a little funny, even if Wei Wuxian has no one left to share the joke with - they never have. Not anything. He has never kissed any part of Lan Zhan besides his slim hands; never been even partially undressed with him anywhere besides a miserable, xuanwu-infested cave. It’s always been like this between them, this simmering need, this desperate understanding: a knowledge so deep that it lives somewhere in his bones, that if he wanted to have Lan Zhan he could have him, and if Lan Zhan wanted Wei Wuxian he could have that too. But they never have.

I found this fic on someone’s blog when they said that it was the definitive fic to read directly after finishing the series so i saved it, read it directly after finishing the series, and felt COMPLETE. Beautifully written, seamlessly fits with canon, and has a super fulfilling resolution. The perfect way to kick off reading untamed fic!

2. One Rogue Spark In My Direction by hansbekhart (Lan Wangji/Xiao Xingchen/Song Lan, E, 5k)

He’d thought, in Yueyang, that they’d seen something in each other, something familiar. That maybe they’d recognized something in him. But it’s been many years, and many things have happened since, and he’s guessed wrongly at other people’s hearts before. Lan Wangji looks back down at the table, at his steaming, bitter tea. He’ll beg if he has to.

In “A Lot Of Edges Called Perhaps” Wangji mentions that he has had sex before and this is the in-universe story of that time and WHEW BABY!!!! AHHHHHH!!! While this fic is like, almost pure smut, I think there is a ton of value to it in terms of emotional perspective on how fucked up LWJ was after WWX’s death. Also, it’s very hot.

3. Gathered Herbs & Sweet Grasses by hansbekhart (Laz Sizhui & Lan Wangji, G, 19k)

Later, when he’s older, it’s this that A-Yuan will remember most: the stretch of silence, the two of them both dirty and shaking with fever, as he looked at Brother Rich, and Brother Rich looked back at him.

This is a fic about Lan Wangji raising Sizhui from when he rescues Sizhui from the Burial Mounds until they bring WWX back to the Cloud Recesses after he’s resurrected. It made me cry about 18 times and I consider it fully canon in relation to the show. I think this gives a lot of emotional depth to the Wangji/Sizhui family relationship that is very important in most fics, so this acts as a good base since the show doesn’t really talk about it too much.

4. Your Name, Safe In Their Mouth by astrolesbian (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, G, 10k)

“You’ve got a fever,” Wei Wuxian says soothingly. “You just keep still as well as you can. We’ll have you fixed up soon.”

Lan Sizhui recognizes his tone—this is the voice that Wei Wuxian uses on hurt people and young children, a very calm and no-nonsense voice that has none of the mischief and cheer of the way he sounds the rest of the time. Lan Sizhui looks up and meets his eyes, and they are dark, stormy gray, muddled and concerned.

“I’m all right,” he croaks.

“Hush,” Wei Wuxian says, in a low croon, like someone quieting a baby. Then he blinks, and looks away, awkward. “I mean—you shouldn’t speak. You’re tired. Rest if you need to.”

or: lan sizhui gets sick on a night hunt. wei wuxian comforts him. they both have a lot of feelings about it.

The Wei Wuxian and Sizhui bonding fic that I so desperately desperately needed to read. Since we got the emotional depth to Wangji/Sizhui in the last fic, here’s some emotional resolution for Sizhui and his other dad!!!!!!!!!! Scratched the very particular itch of “but have they REALLY talked about what it means that they’re reunited after 16 years???”

5. climbing up that coastal shelf by Sour_Idealist (Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng, & Wei Wuxian, T, 15k)

Jin Ling had begun to suspect years ago that there were parts of his family history that had been crossed out; long streaks of black where Wei Wuxian had been. The truth is more like whole books being brought up from their hiding places again.

Or: Jin Ling tries to figure out what family means, now.

OKAY!!!! Last emotional resolution before I send you on your way to explore! This is the emotional resolution for the other half of WWX’s family. Featuring just a FUCK TON of family feels and a lot of TALKING that this fucked up family needs so damn bad. *chefs kiss* muy delicioso! ALSO i think this is a good introduction to a lot of the naming conventions that are used frequently in untamed fic that took me a while to pick up on!

WHEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now that you’ve gotten some post-show catharsis in the form of a few extremely well-written fics, it’s time for a full rec! I’ve divided it up into seven categories: long fics, smutty one-shots, 3zun (lan xichen/nie mingjue/meng yao) fics, fics about the juniors, family fun fics, some miscellaneous fics, and then some yizhan RPF! I wouldn’t have put any of these fics on here if I didn’t think they were worth reading, BUT! I did mark my particular favorites with asterisks to demark the crème de la crème of the bunch. SO! LET’S DIVE IN!

EPIC TALES (LONG AND/OR IMMERSIVE)

My Age Has Never Made Me Wise by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 63k) ***

“We hear that His Excellency might be married by summer’s end,” the merchant’s wife says and Wei Wuxian freezes, his heart in his throat. “The Gusu Lan sect has been buying enough red silk and brocade that the merchants in Caiyi can’t satisfy the demand.”

He feels himself grow brittle inside, like a flick of a finger to his temple might make him shatter. His ears are ringing.

“Who’s the lucky bride?” he asks despite himself. His tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth.

Or: The story of a marriage.

I LOVE THIS FIC. YOU MUST PROMISE ME YOU’LL READ THIS FIC. The absolute best kind of slow burn and I think such an extremely accurate representation of the canon material. I’m always surprised by the authors in this fandom’s ability to write shit that is so concretely grounded in the universe. This could and should be a real companion novel. Amazing. I love it. (Also I know you said you’re not into fics that are long just to be long and I think this fic is the exact opposite of that, it’s long but for good reason and has such an insanely satisfying payoff that it’s completely worth dedicating a few hours to!)

The Year of Drought by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 24k)

Wei Ying could not be contained by the walls of the Cloud Recesses, alive again and overflowing with it, bursting like a dam in spring with the force of two lives unspent. And so he had to go. Lan Wangji understands that—he understood it when Wei Ying told him of his plans, looking at Lan Wangji above the rim of his cup with an apologetic smile, like craving freedom was something to apologize for.

Wei Ying would go, and Lan Wangji would see him off; this has always been the only way it could be.

Or: In the absence of Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji waits.

The previous fic but from Wangji’s perspective. Absolutely required reading if you read the other one. Wangji baby.......i love you.....

further than the grave by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 32k)

There is something about grief that turns Lan Wangji numb. He cannot be certain if it is not some kind of defect inside him that makes him so. But just as he grieved his mother’s passing with dry eyes and a stone in his chest, so he grieves Wei Ying: quietly, frozen inside, without tears. Beyond the Jingshi window it might be spring, but Lan Wangji’s body and mind are still held within the winter’s grasp.

As the anniversary of his leaving seclusion approaches, Lan Wangji ponders the nature of grief and healing.

One last fic from the same verse as the previous two, this talks about Wangji post-WWX’s death and then them dealing with the past post-marriage. Its just as good and immersive and amazing as the previous two parts, but this is the only untamed fic that actually made me gasp out loud and if you read this and can guess what it was we will be best friends forever. (There are two other fics in this verse that are also good but these three in particular are god-tier in my eyes.)

Vagabond by xantissa (Wangxian, E, 66k)

Wei Wuxian comes back to Cloud Recesses after a year of wandering the world, hoping to start a relationship with Lan Zhan. He doesn’t expect to come into the middle of a case of sleeping sickness mysteriously killing people, nor does he expect what follows, putting everything he holds dear on the line once again.

OOOWEE CASE FIC! CASE FIC! This is truly the twisty turny intense and INTERESTING type of fic from this fandom that blows my mind. This could fully be a stand alone novel its that good and there’s that much to it. Another one that isn’t long just to be long, it has so much PLOT!!!!! REAL GOOD SHIT!

Seldom All They Seem by Fahye (Wangxian, E, 25k)

or, one hundred and thirty-three principles of the Gusu Lan, pertaining to the state of marriage

***

He bows to Wei Wuxian, sword in hand, sleeves falling properly. Wei Wuxian bows in return, and the sect leaders begin the opening courtesies, and for all of ten minutes Lan Wangji is under the impression that he is betrothed to a boy who is perfectly normal and acceptable apart from an unfortunate tendency to fidget with his clothes.

That impression does not last.

A canon-divergent fic exploring “what if Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were betrothed from when they were young like Yanli and Jin Zixuan?” It’s extremely good and very compelling and also made me cry multiple times. (The confrontation in the rain doesn’t get any easier even if they’re betrothed!)

Half Cloak & Half Dagger by Fahye (Lan Xichen/Meng Yao, E, 13k)

Jin Guangyao lifts his head and smiles. "I'm considering a problem."

"Can I be of any assistance with it?"

He drops a kiss on Lan Xichen's chest. With the nail of one finger he lightly traces the characters for irony on Lan Xichen's side. "Not this one, er-ge."

A follow-up fic set in the “Seldom All They Seem” universe but focused on xiyao. Has hands down the best written characterization of meng yao in any fic ive read so far. I continuously come back to this fic just to read the absolutely genius way this author writes the Head Bitch In Control of the cultivation world.

The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (Wangxian, T, 20k)

Wei Wuxian’s hand jolts, spilling a drop of wine onto the tabletop. “Love?” he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again. “Lan Zh— uh, Hanguang-jun, in love?”

“Have you not heard the story?” the other young woman asks, looking pitying. “You must, it is a truly heartrending tale of star-crossed romance and mutual pining — go to any storyhouse in town, everyone has been requesting a reading of this book.”

“There’s a book?” Wei Wuxian says blankly.

In which the junior disciples (namely, Lan Jingyi, Ouyang Zizhen, and a reluctant Lan Sizhui) turn to RPF in an attempt to rehabilitate Wei Wuxian's reputation so that he and Hanguang-jun can get together and get married and live happily ever after. It's... surprisingly effective.

I kept avoiding this fic, even though it was really high up on the list of most popular fics in the fandom, bc the premise sounded pretty goofy BUT I finally bit the bullet one day and AHHHHHHHH!!!!! Very very very cute and fun, made me smile like an idiot throughout the entire thing. Heartwarming and very well written!!!

never let me go by yiqie (Wangxian, E, 69k)

Wei Wuxian has certainly hoped so ardently in his two lifetimes, for so many different things, in so many different ways, that he could have summoned the demon to his front door with his bare hands. His eyes wander to Lan Zhan, settle on the back of his head, the blue-black curtain of his hair. Oh, how he has hoped.

Another extremely good and super immersive case fic. If you ever just want to sink really deep into an untamed fic, this is a great one for it.

hunters seeking solid ground by Attila (Wangxian, E, 24k)

“Hanguang-jun,” Wei Wuxian repeats. His heart clenches. He wants—but he’d really meant to have this nightmare stuff down before they met again, so he wouldn’t find himself relying on Lan Wangji’s nearness. He’s not supposed to go back yet. But he’s so tired, and his will crumbles. “Yeah,” he says. “All right. Take me back to Gusu with you.”

You want hurt/comfort? I gotcha hurt/comfort RIGHT HERE!

shadows in the sun rise by Yuu_chi (Wangxian, E, 25k) ***

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, voice slow and a pitch too quiet. A second later Wei Wuxian understands why. “I cannot hear.”

Or; Lan Wangji is cursed into internal isolation. Their ability to understand one another remains as unwavering as ever.

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD. I have been thinking about this fic nonstop since I read it. It is…..fucking incredible. One of the best qualities of wangxian is that they’re so in tune with each other and able to work so cohesively with little communication and this fic is like “what if we take that and DIAL IT UP TO ELEVEN” and i was like AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

I hope that you will come and meet me by feyburner (Wangxian, M, 28k) ***

The second time Lan Zhan said Wei Ying, come back, Wei Wuxian did.

okay so this is literally getting added to the fic rec one day before i send it to you because i just finished it and WHEW BABY!!!!! YES it is just another wangxian post-canon reunion get-together fic, BUT 1. i cant get enough of that specific brand of fic and 2. ITS SO GOOD. ITS. SO. GOOD. achingly tender and incredibly soft but also funny and sweet and very in-character! i love it!

THE BONE ZONE (WANGXIAN SMUT)

Sweet Night by corteae (Wangxian, E, 10k)

It was like coming back to life again, like being restitched into existence, cell by cell, nerve by nerve. From the surface of his skin to the marrow of his bones, everything new and purposeful. Like being pulled back from oblivion into an embrace of pure light. A feeling of absolute asylum.

That’s what it felt like, to realize Lan Wangji was in love with him.

An in-show au of “what if they just admitted they’re in love and fucked during episode 43?” Soft and romantic and hot!

the crucial point by dissembler (Wangxian, E, 7k) ***

Months after parting on the mountain, Lan Wangji makes up his mind, plots his course on a map, and has faith.

I LOVE THIS FIC! Very realistic and sweet wangxian reunion fic from wangji’s perspective. Has so many good little details and is very true to their characters. Good shit. Great.

Stainless by Fahye (Wangxian, E, 6k)

"I'm starting to feel," says Lan Xichen, "that this was a counterproductive suggestion."

Wei Wuxian looks down onto the pristine, tranquil cold springs of the Cloud Recesses. Sitting in the water, their bare shoulders rising like dumplings carefully spaced in a steaming-basket, are a large number of Lan disciples.

"They seem to be doing better," he says, encouragingly. "If they--oh, no, I see what you mean."

At the near bank, someone has pressed someone else against the rocks and is kissing them frantically.

What is getting into a new pairing if not an excuse to read sex pollen in new and exciting ways!

To Recklessly Confess by la_dissonance (Wangxian, E, 8k)

Lan Wangji has a fantasy. Wei Wuxian gets several clues.

The “what if they just fucked in episode 43” au but from a different angle.

all the depths of me, real by northofallmusic (Wangxian, E, 15k)

Wei Wuxian is dealing with a curse a little worse than he'd like to let on, and Lan Zhan is a little less than willing to let it slide.

Another “what if they just fucked in the show” fic, this time set when WWX has the curse on his leg and Wangji has to carry him back to the inn.

Every Day, Learning More by phnelt (Wangxian, E, 6k)

The pink was high on Wei Wuxian’s cheeks. “I mean I haven’t been able to… that I can’t. Not without you.”

Lan Wangji stared. “In this body, the whole time you’ve had it -- you’ve never…”

Wei Wuxian kicked his heels into Lan Wangji’s back. “I just said that!”

I knew at least one of these was more book verse than show! WWX hasn’t been able to jerk off in his new body, LWJ helps him out :-)

the meaning of the ritual by newamsterdam (Wangxian, E, 8k)

“Lan Zhan… wants to bed me?”

The hand on his chest is shaking, slightly. “Mn.”

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian breaths out.

There’s something— something powerful, about that. Lan Wangji wants to bed him. Lan Wangji wants to sleep with him. Lan Wangji wants to touch him, and kiss him. The immovable, implacable Second Master of Lan, with a face and principles both carved from jade, wants him.

“Is this a fantasy of yours?” Wei Wuxian asks. “Forcing all the demonic energy out of me with your—”

Lan Wangji claps a hand over his mouth. “Silence, now.”

When the entire cultivation world turns against the Yiling Patriarch, Wei Wuxian makes a risky gamble— he'll agree to participate in an ancient ritual for cleansing the spirit, so that his character can no longer be called into question. The catch? He has no idea who his partner for the ritual will be.

This is also book-verse! As the tag says “Let Lan Wangji Fuck the Yiling Patriarch”!!!!!!!!!!!

Hurricane by gdgdbaby (Wangxian, E, 6k) ***

"Haven't you heard?" Nie Huaisang replied, clicking his tongue, though he was clearly pleased that he could be the one to break the news. He leaned in to announce with a dramatic flourish: "Lan Wangji just took emergency family leave this past weekend."

WANGXIAN AS SPIRK STAR TREK PON FAR AU!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEWOO WEEWOO WEEWOO!!!!!!!! This was actually recced to ME by CHI and I have not stopped thinking about this fic for a full month. It’s like author gdgdbaby sat down one day and was like “Tumblr user Liv Scottspack deserves everything she wants in this life.” and then wrote this fic. Thank you author gdgdbaby, I love you.

WORLD’S WORST THROUPLE (3ZUN)

The body is a blade by rheawrites (3zun, E, 2k) ***

In which Lan Xichen is taken by surprise, Nie Mingjue takes what he can get, and Meng Yao gets what he wants.

This was the first 3zun fic I ever read and whew baby, got it in one! It’s actually a slight AU but it gets their characterization so right and is a very fun read. One of those fics I go back to frequently because it does so much with so few words.

shang tiantang by fuckwarlock (3zun, E, 4k)

They wanted so much, and with the way A-Yao gasps at the saber-calloused hand unfastening his belts, he does, too. The night air twirls with the scents of osmanthus and cinnamon and melon. Lan Xichen smiles, leans in, and ghosts his lips over the crook of A-Yao’s neck. What kind of brother would he be if he didn’t give A-Yao what he wanted? “I think it’s your turn to ascend, A-Yao.”

The Venerated Triad celebrates the Mid-Autumn Festival the best way they know how.

Truly the only way the venerated triad works is if meng yao gets Destroyed :-)

Favour and Fate by soulgusttheguardian (3zun, E, 8k)

There have been times in Meng Yao’s life when he couldn’t help but wonder how he came to be in his current situation. Found himself reflecting on the choices leading up to whatever misfortune had befallen him that day, and pondering why fate hated him so.

Granted, there had also been times when he couldn't help but wonder just what he had done to earn the favour necessary to be rewarded with certain things...

The current situation he found himself to be in, however, was definitely the latter.

More of the same! Truly I personally can never get enough of the 3zun dynamic in smut fics its just too goddamn motherfucking GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!

the stars do not take sides by everyearning (3zun, E, 4k)

Mingjue isn’t sure he’s ever seen Xichen do anything other than treat the boy like a porcelain doll and it’s laughable to him, to think of Meng Yao as something breakable, instead of the sharp, deadly object he is.

Okay one last “Destroy Meng Yao” 3zun fic! Enjoy!

never as alive as we are right now by ThirtySixSaveFiles (3zun, E, 12k)

Three perspectives on three sworn brothers, at three different times in their relationship.

(Or, three times 3zun got it on and some of the feelings they had along the way.)

Wait actually I want to end the 3zun fics on this one because it has true Emotional Resolution at the end and I think they deserve a little healing.

BABY BOYS. BABIES. (THE JUNIORS)

A Civil Combpaign by Ariaste (Jin Ling/Lan Sizhui, T, 20k) ***

“And,” said one of the pompous ministers, “there’s the matter of a marriage to consider as well!”

Jin Ling, who at the beginning of that sentence had expected to slam into the very last wall of his patience and lose his temper entirely, paused. “A what?”

Thing was… it wasn’t such a bad idea.

A MUST-FUCKING-READ!!! Jin Ling gets it in his head that as sect leader he should get married and sets his sights on Lan Sizhui. I cannot stress enough how FUCKING CUTE this fic is!!! Sizhui being the best boy! Jin Ling having more uncles than he knows what to do with! Jiang Cheng being the worst at relationship advice! It’s so fucking good it love it so much.

Anyway, Here’s Wuji by kakikaeru (Lan Jingyi/Lan Sizhui, T, 18k)

The melody gets a little clearer when he breaks out of the trees, and Jingyi changes course with certainty, barreling down the back hill and through the Cloud Recesses, dodging scandalized disciples left and right. He throws open the doors to the Receiving Hall without announcement and bows nearly double, eyes on the floor instead of on the shocked faces of the Mei delegation and the impenetrable gaze of the Chief Cultivator.

"Forgive this disciple," Jingyi shouts, because he's going to get punished for rule breaking regardless. "From the back hill, Hanguang-jun, there is a song in the wind!"

Lan Jingyi comes of age.

A Jingyi-central fic about Jingyi growing up and falling in love and being a hero and being the second best boy of my heart right after Sizhui. Not only is this fic sweet and romantic but it’s another one that explores a lot of interesting things within canon and all of the supporting characters are written very well and are just as interesting as second best boy Jingyi.

Ok, JiuJiu by kakikaeru (Jin Ling/Ouyang Zizhen, T, 16k)

Uncle's jaw works in the way that suggests he's about to say something irredeemable. Jin Ling, in a move of diplomacy he hopes the Chief Cultivator appreciates, distracts him with spicy food and his favourite subject: the incompetence of his own officials.

"I hear the lakes in the south east are having drainage problems?" he asks nonchalantly, sticking three big slices of braised pork belly into his Uncle's bowl.

Jin Ling just wants to get through the Discussion Conference with his Sect, his dignity, and his heart intact.

A follow up fic to “Anyways, Here’s Wuji.” I LOVE the Jin Ling/Ouyang Zizhen dynamic of Jin Ling having been raised by Jiang “I keep all my emotions right here and then one day I’ll die” Cheng AND being hopelessly charmed and smitten with Ouyang “President of the I Love Love Romance Novel Book Club” Zizhen! I LOVE IT! EXTREMELY CUTE!

Lan Sizhui's Guide to Courtship by Kimblydot (Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, T, 23k)

In which Jingyi is a little oblivious, Sizhui is patient (and should have said something in the beginning), and everyone else is resigned to watching them dance around each other for far longer than necessary.

(Or: five things Sizhui tries to do in his courtship, and the one time Jingyi realizes there was one happening in the first place.)

I’ll stop describing fics about the juniors as being “cute” when they stop being SO FUCKING CUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

His Merit All My Fear by violettressed (Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, G, 16k)

It’s too late for any of Hanguang-Jun’s rabbits to be awake -- one of the sundown chores for young disciples is to herd them back into their hutch -- but the rabbit field is as good a spot as any for quality sulking, so Lan Jingyi makes his way there.

Someone has beat him to it.

Lan Jingyi stares at Hanguang-Jun. Hanguang-Jun stares passively back.

When Lan Sizhui is swept away with the Ghost General, off on a new adventure, Lan Jingyi is the one who returns to Cloud Recesses alone.

Not only another extremely cute Sizhui/Jingyi fic BUT one that includes a Wangji/Jingyi friendship??? Incroyable! *chefs kiss*

spirit running wild by idrilka (Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, E, 17k)

He doesn’t know, exactly, when the friendship he shared with Sizhui over the years has changed into something that’s made Jingyi finally understand why Hanguang-Jun always wears that expression whenever he looks at Senior Wei. There hasn’t been one single moment that he can point to and say, yes, this is where it started, because the thing about falling in love with your best friend is that it happens gradually, until it’s impossible to tell which step has been the deciding one.

Jingyi goes to Baling with a crush.

Written by the same genius that wrote the first three fics I made you read so you know it’s good. Its truly the childhood best friends to lovers of it all! Sizhui is adorable and Jingyi is a mess! *muah!*

FAMILY FUN TIME (NO ROMANCE, JUST FEELS)

Grow by cafecliche (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, T, 14k)

“Okay,” Jingyi says, as Sizhui puzzles this out aloud. “Okay! So the demon has been turning its victims into children.”

“I think so,” Sizhui says.

“To make them easier prey,” Jingyi says.

“Yes,” Sizhui says.

“So—” Jingyi’s voice cracks here, “this kid is Senior Wei.”

Wei Wuxian, still tangled in his own massive robes, blinks politely at them.

(Or: Wei Wuxian is cursed on a night-hunt, and the junior quartet rapidly finds themselves in over their heads.)

What I expected to be a goofy, silly fic turned out to be extremely emotional and made me FULLY CRY! It’s a very moving fic about Sizhui coming to understand himself and Wei Wuxian a lot better AND features all of the juniors arguing over who’s turn it is to hold 6 year old Wei Wuxian. A true win/win of a fic.

To The Act of Making Noise by words-writ-in-starlight (Lan Sizhui & Lan Wangji, G, 19k)

His father in white plays the song late into the night, and when A-Yuan wakes up confused and afraid, the guqin lulls him back to sleep.

Lan Sizhui hears his father play the same song every night for his whole life, and never, ever get an answer.

Another very moving and heartwarming fic about Lan Wangji raising Sizhui and Sizhui figuring out Wangji’s past and then eventually reconnecting with Wei Wuxian. It’s cute and soft and Sizhui is my best boy!

History (Proud To Call Your Own) by words-writ-in-starlight (Wen Ning, G, 5k)

“A-Yuan? Um—Lan-gongzi,” Wen Ning corrects, trying to set a good example. The children are young, seven and eight, exactly a dozen of them lined up in two crisp lines of tiny blue and white robes. Wen Ning can feel them staring at him, even though most of them have already mastered that Lan trick of neutrality. The smallest, a little girl with liquid dark eyes, is clinging to her nearest shijie’s sleeve and half-hiding. “Can I—what can I do for you?”

Wen Ning gets himself recruited for services, while he and Sizhui are visiting Cloud Recesses. Wei Wuxian gets a fan club.

Set in the same universe as “To The Act of Making Noise,” a very cute fic about Wen Ning finding his place in the post-canon world and being proud of Sizhui and being the world’s best substitute teacher. As the official Wen Ning Fan Club President, I had to include this.

the stone-filled sea by yukla (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, T, 9k) ***

He forgets how quickly Wei-qianbei changes faces, sometimes. Like pulling a theater mask over a bruise—color over color, a diversion with the swipe of his hand.

Lan Sizhui navigates a world that hates his father, one endless wave at a time.

Oh man oh man. I will never get enough of the fics where Sizhui (and the rest of the juniors) get ANGRY on Wei Wuxian’s behalf!! That’s their dad and their teacher and their friend and they will DEFEND HIM!!! YEAH BAYBEEEEEEEEEE!!!

PICK & MIX (MISCELLANEOUS)

This Side of Paradise by greenfionn (Wei Wuxian/Wen Qing, E, 3k)

Wei Wuxian does some very quick math in his head that goes something like this: He is pretty sure he’s in love with Lan Zhan - Lan Zhan is not here and likely never will be here - Wen Qing is here, not to mention very hot and let us not forget, actually interested in sex with him - there’s a solid chance he goes genuinely crazy or dies, or both, in the next few months and really, who wants to die a virgin?

Listen.......the fic premise is “Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing, noted bisexuals, figure life sucks enough at the Burial Mounds, they might as well have any fun they can before they die” and........I Am Looking Directly At It. It features Wen Qing bossing Wei Wuxian around and Wei Wuxian’s canon he-wants-to-be-pregnant kink. It’s........I liked it.

palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss by iodhadh (Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, M, 15k) ***

The realization strikes Song Lan like a bolt of lightning: Xiao Xingchen laughs, and he wants with a sudden, stunning desperation to kiss the mirth from his beautiful mouth. How, precisely, he is meant to manage that—that, he has no idea at all.

Or: introspective meditations on touch, trust, and the problem of desire.

I Am Baby and for some reason cannot handle how sad the entire Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen storyline ended up so I rarely read songchen fics, and when I do they’re always soft pre-canon fics like this one. Luckily there are some very beautiful and moving pre-canon songchen fics!!! I love you fandom!!

purpose and ritual by iodhadh (Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, E, 8k)

Song Zichen has beautiful hands. He's a powerful swordsman, strong and skilled, unfairly impressive and unreasonably handsome. He is devoted and self-disciplined and he takes direction like a dream. And he doesn't touch people—no one at all, if he can help it, except for Xiao Xingchen.

The poets might call him a saint, but Xiao Xingchen is so very, very human.

More of the same :-)

born to sweet delight by la_dissonance (Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, E, 10k)

Xiao Xingchen lightly jumps into the center of the pool, the water a shock that cools his sticky, heated skin, and does nothing for the heat building inside him. When he surfaces, pushing the hair out of his face, he finds Song Lan's gaze and meets it. Between them, everything goes both ways. What Song Lan will offer, Xiao Xingchen will freely give too.

Or, Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan meet, pledge their lives to each other, and then fall in love.

This is about the angstiest I will go for songchen and its still absolutely Baby Soft lmfao!!!!!!

Pin it down by rheawrites (Jiang Yanli/Jin Zixuan, Jin Zixuan/Nie Mingjue, E, 2k)

“Yanli, I did not lie on our wedding night. You are the only woman I have gone to bed with. But… there was a man.”

“Oh?” Yanli blinks up at him. She does not appear horrified, or betrayed, which is surely a good sign.

Jin Zixuan swallows. “It was Sect Leader Nie,” he says quickly, as though that will make it easier.

“…Oh,” says Yanli, and her eyes are dark.

Jin Zixuan tells his wife a war story. Or, two thousand words of Jin Zixuan getting railed.

Have you ever looked at Jin Zixuan and been like “I bet that mf likes getting PEGGED!!!!!!!!” Well here’s the fic for you.

*YIBO VOICE* DIDI LOVES YOU! (YIZHAN RPF)

never really over by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 10k)

The thing is: it would be good to see Xiao Zhan again — if Yibo could just trust himself to be normal.

Author gdgdbaby is the yizhan master, so here are five of my personal favorites of their fics, starting with this post-filming reunion fic that was the first yizhan fic I ever read and HIT real good after having just finished the show myself.

pedagogy by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 17k) ***

Yibo opens his mouth and says, "I want to learn," barreling past the rapid rise of Xiao Zhan's eyebrows. "To last longer. Will you teach me?"

Quick-fire Yibo comes too easily and Xiao Zhan helps train him to last longer :-)

you’re the reason that i just can’t concentrate by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 10k)

Xiao Zhan hears about it from Yu Bin, which probably should've been the first warning sign.

Yibo was only 20 when they filmed the untamed, which lends itself perfectly to fics like this.

a truth so loud you can’t ignore by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 5k)

It's their last day of filming in Hengdian when the secret comes out.

If yibo has to be a fictional virgin than SO DOES XIAO ZHAN!

if you would only let you by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 32k) ***

"Well?" Yibo demands. Past the severe frown tugging at the corners of his mouth, a flicker of the old him slips through, the persistent boy who shoved his way into Xiao Zhan's space without a second thought and made a home for himself there. "Are you coming or not?"

Xiao Zhan's heart twists. He forcibly settles it back in his chest. He's only told Yibo no once in his entire life, and it was already the hardest thing he's ever had to do. "Okay," Xiao Zhan murmurs, quiet but decisive, and thumbs his phone off. "Let's go."

Like I said, all gdgdbaby fics are incredibly good, super well written, and very hot, but this one does stand out from the bunch for being a Full Epic Romance! This is one of Chi’s favorite fics so that should speak to it’s quality!

baby, who’s counting by nobirdstofly (Yizhan, E, 12k)

Xiao Zhan gasps, trying to rein in another peal of giggles. “What do I owe you anyway?”

Yibo shrugs one shoulder, and his smirk deepens. “Haven’t decided.”

Xiao Zhan’s still staring at him, laughter gone in his dry throat, when he hears someone yell for a reset. Yibo’s eyes are so, so dark, and he hasn’t stopped watching Xiao Zhan this whole time. Xiao Zhan swallows, nods, and pushes every dirty thought out of his head.

(Or: Yibo bets Xiao Zhan he'll break first during a take, Xiao Zhan loses, and it's all downhill from there.)

Ah sex bets, who doesn’t love sex bets!

Mystery Dance by mrsronweasley (Yizhan, E, 16k)

"That? That's your confession?" Yibo's toppled onto Xiao Zhan's side and is clutching his shoulder, trying not to fall over. "That's pathetic!"

"Oh, what, you can do better?" Zhuocheng is pretty flushed and there's a challenge in his voice that Yibo just can't walk away from.

"Hell yeah, I can. Hit me, Yu Bin." Yu Bin cheers and refills Yibo's shot glass. "All right!" Yibo downs the shot, gags only slightly, and says, "Everyone! I'm a fucking virgin!"

WHAT’S better than a Yibo virgin fic? A SECOND YIBO VIRGIN FIC!

This author also writes extremely good yizhan threesomes so here’s three of them!

Some Nights by mrsronweasley (Yizhan/Xuan Lu (Jiang Yanli), E, 2k)

Xuan Lu opened her legs to him and Xiao Zhan wasted no time diving in. He pressed his mouth against her pussy, licking her out steadily as her thighs trembled around him. She was nestled between Yibo's legs and if Xiao Zhan looked up, not only could he see the planes of her body, her small breasts going up and down with her breathing, ribs expanding, her tipped back head and open mouth, but Yibo, gaze boring into Xiao Zhan's as he ate Xuan Lu out.

The entire cast is hot and there is no reason they shouldn’t ALL fuck! Not one reason!!!!!!

gege loves you by mrsronweasley (Yizhan/Wang Zhuocheng (Jiang Cheng)), E, 7k)

"We are very sorry," Xiao Zhan murmured as he unbuttoned Zhuocheng's jeans while Yibo kissed his ear, "for how we've been acting."

"Is this how you apologize to everyone," Zhuocheng panted, hands already going for his zipper to help Xiao Zhan along, "or am I special?"

WHEW LORD!!!!!!!!! WHEW!!!!!!!

Talking in the Dark by mrsronweasley (Yizhan (Side Xiao Zhan/M/F), E, 14k)

Xiao Zhan has a light-hearted romp of a threeway with some friends, then makes the mistake of telling Yibo. It goes down.

A non-yizhan threesome BUT features jealous!yibo which is a ton of fun.

Finally, a couple AUs!

With Joy and Purpose by feenwitch (Yizhan, E, 30k) ***

Yibo has been alone for approximately five Earth years when Xiao Zhan crash lands on his planet.

YIZHAN ANDROID AU!!!!!!!! This is a very star trek-esque universe which is fun, but the fic itself is also CRAZY interesting and moving and beautiful!!!!!!!!! It’s A LOT! This was a rec from Nina, so thank you Nina!

Bound With a Same-Heart Knot by mrsronweasley (Yizhan, E, 59k)

London, 1892. Xiao Zhan, a promising young attache at the Chinese embassy is tasked with showing the new ambassador's son Wang Yibo around London. The inevitable happens.

Victorian AU! I actually think you already read this, but included for posterity.

AND SCENE! This is the result of two months of daily fic reading, having 50 tabs of fic open at any given time, reading truly anything and everything, and Loving The Untamed. I’m SO EXCITED you’re diving into fic for this show and I can’t wait to talk to you about all of them and to have someone to scream with! WOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

#the untamed #fic #the untamed fic rec #holy gosh diddly darn moly #this is long as hell and has approximately 950k words of fic in it #my magnum opus!!!!#what's even more wild is that this literally doesnt even scratch the surface #i am constantly reading more #from the time i started putting this rec together until now #i added two new fics that i read and thought were amazing #there is no dearth of good shit to read in this fandom #ANYWAYS congrats on finishing (tomorrow)!#i cant wait to talk fic!#i hope you enjoy this list!#sorry it is genuinely absurdly long!

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cloveroctobers · 3 years

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GENEVIEVE ALIU —

IG info/bio: @/genevealiu1 | 19k followers | currently on a journey as a junior doctor living in 🇦🇺🤎 | blm.card.co🖤 | sk💛

26 years of age

Born and raised in Glastonbury, England

Pisces sun? + libra moon?

Mother is Guyanese and works for a non-profit organization

Her father is Nigerian and works in property management

has one older brother who is a Prosthetist and resides in Nigeria with his pregnant fiancée

She can’t wait to be a auntie!!!

And a younger sister who is a medical laboratory technician

To say the least, their parents were happy that their children fell into the medical field. Based on their cultures it was a honor to have their children in these professions

Vieve grew up with a sassy demeanor and her parents have old videos on their camcorders to prove it lol, it never fails that the pair brings out the embarrassing vids during the holidays but vieve genuinely appreciates them

Although thanksgiving is a RACIST American thing, vieve never misses the opportunity to share what she’s thankful for in life and counts all of it as blessings! But it’s still fuck the pilgrims

Has held a friendsgiving before, loves any moment where she can host gatherings or attend them! either is quite fine. She loves being around people

the only time she likes to look back on the past is to see how she and her family carried themselves then and how the evolved into who they are now, it’s interesting to see

Loves “how it started vs how it’s going” posts and might have participated in a few

Always knew from a young age that she wanted to help people in some way, she was always doing something to help around the house and especially her aging/sickly grandparents

Felt offended that many people around school that she thought were her friends would stab her in the back labeling her as this “fake saint” since she rather spend her time volunteering instead of going to house parties in hs

Don’t get it twisted, she still went to those too & had her fun but definitely felt like it was the same routine and nothing ever felt fulfilling at these functions after awhile

Well known with all the cliques around school but had her own group of friends that fit into many of those cliques but she never felt obligated to stick to one social group. If you were nice and cool with her, she was the same to you, if you weren’t? Depending on her mood, she’d ignore you/say things under her breath or be “fake nice” as a form of being the bigger person

Has a curly hair routine that she consistently follows (after struggling to find the right products to make them flourish) and gets annoyed with if her curls don’t turn out the way she knows they can, it’s always frustrating when things don’t turn out the way you want them to but isn’t afraid to at least try

Three times is the charm! Is one of her mottos

loves bright colors, flowy attire, big hats, brimmed hats, bucket hats, berets, etc...

Has faced racism/prejudices and bullying growing up in public spaces—mostly school/uni & some of those same hatred actions online now that she’s dating seb

Because of that there were times where she felt insecure but deff grew to forgive, heal, and rise above the hate, she knows her worth

Has never been happier in a relationship than she is with seb, he’s her “moody long-haired, soft-hearted bby”

they’re both complete fools for each other and vieve is more vocal about her being in love/finding her soulmate whereas seb doesn’t mind showing it rather than speaking it—even tho he’s on a podcast but we mind our business okay?!

Seb is thinking of moving to Australia with vieve, he’s ready to risk it all for this woman, HIS woman 🤩

canon: gives more than she should/taken advantage of/not reciprocating in relationships... ex) how she dated a guy that she did everything for! especially financially and also struggled to find her worth but once she did? Her aura shined brighter than before— Ik chill out there Rocco

Also believes in loving yourself first to attract what you need in this world and found that in her career and seb. I hope they’re endgame! Since they’re the only couple I rooted for this season? Except for tai & ciaran maybe? They’re probably not endgame but whatever

They still get nervous/shy around each other even tho they’ve been together for months now + are in a long distance relationship which is too cute! I think since they’re in this for the long game they can look back on moments and still feel the way they felt in that moment. You know if you get the chance or have already heard elderly people talk about their relationships and how they get all starry eyed? That’s vieve & seb, that shit gets me right in my feels ew

Vieve’s love language is quality time, it’s what she shows and likes along with acts of service from her partner

Makes the best jollof rice & her fav dish is Metemgee

Trying to be on a plant-based diet only but will have her cheat days on occasion—mostly when she’s drunk and forgets her diet plan lmao that’s me getting double cheeseburgers or anything with dairy drunk af

now living in Australia, she tried to like vegemite but...the it’s a no for her, respectfully ofc! She never wants to disrespect anyone

besides the food, the atmosphere is much nicer since she feels like she’s on a holiday almost everyday and that there’s much more to see and do when she has the time

Loves the beaches and is thinking about surfing lessons

yes she enjoys those doctor shows and can agree that most scenarios are not the same as rl ofc but great question!

Since she’s a junior doctor now, and on her way to graduation! She feels so accomplished and having this chance to complete what she’s wanted her whole life in a different place, makes her super emotional

All those stressful all-nighters will be worth it. She mostly did it on her own but is nothing but humble and Is thankful to those that have helped her along the way, what kind of person would she be if she didn’t mention them?

and when COVID hit, she was one of many already on the frontlines. Her studies became altered but this wouldn’t stop her for her mission on this earth, this was her purpose and she knew we would conquer it all—but definitely has empathy and gets angry with how it’s being handled from time to time

She’s been exposed to it first hand which aboustely worries her parents, seb, her friends, and friends from the villa

Keeps up to date when all medical news, has a whole app dedicated to health

Learning French with some of her free time and is doing well at it

It was only natural for her to become closer to elladine since their men are homies and have a podcast together

They’ve hung out a few times on a double dates before the boat vacation & once just as girls before vieve left to Australia

Vieve is always offering advice but knows that every relationship is different and what works for her and seb won’t work for elladine and Nicky, she loves them together and knows everyone has bumps in the road

feels there’s some sort of tension between her and Harry now? Which she found a little off putting since they were supposed to be friends but she realizes that Harry has a condition but it’s also not an excuse for him to treat her shitty sometimes which he does and feels like it comes out of nowhere most times but he always apologizes yet vieve is slowly getting tired of this unhealthy habits

So they’re talking less these days, which he notices!

She wants Harry to find his happiness too! If he hasn’t found it in mc first that is

has met Tim— he’s a great laugh and seems like a nice guy—they follow each other, talia and jake in person when she was out with seb—they were also super nice and congratulated them on their win, she went up to miles once on a night out—he’s still a arsehole, priya reached out to her via dm about her new boutique that she wanted her to model in someday, Hope was just as stunning in person along with Siobhan, Chelsea & mc s2 were also kind, and a couple of the guys also wished her and seb well

She’s also noticed some of the shit talking coming from Elisa, Allegra, Lucy, and mc s1 (subtle shade from mc, basically about how vieve reacted if mc decided to give Harry a go but that was only brought to her attention thru fans) online but again, vieve peeped it and felt majority of it didn’t require a response. She was too happy in life rn and she had a man and they don’t

Plans to get a komondor, thinks they’re super cute! — seb does not “if you love me, you’ll love our child.” “It’s a bloody mop dog! And I’m a cat dad, you know that!” “Don’t talk about him like that, he’s got feelings just like your cat babies!”

I feel like she’s a matcha & Frappuccino lover, tries to keep her drinks simple and feels guilty when she has to make adjustments but the heart wants what it wants

Mini Countryman owner, she also drives like a “granny” better safe than sorry! She hates fast drivers, there’s absolutely no need for it!

Minimal makeup: eyeshadow, moisturizer, & a nude lip and she’s good to go

Secretly obsessed with among us, second life, and SIMS!!!

Celeb crushes? Heath ledger, Tyler posey, KENDRICK SAMPSON, Jordan fisher, Algee smith, Donald Glover, Mack Wilds, Khleo Thomas, Robert Ri’chard, Tahj Mowry, & Hasan Minhaj

Listens to: DaniLeigh, ABIR, Mary J. Blige, TORI KELLY, Us the duo, 11:11, Jacob Latimore, fifth harmony, joya mooi, & Greentea Peng, etc...

Anthem: The Cheetah Girls — Cinderella

#litg #litg3 #litg s3 #litg genevieve #litg moodboard #litg headcanons #litg headcanon #litg seb #litg Harry #litg mc #litg oc #litg elladine #litg Nicky #idk if I did her justice but my apologies to her and y’all if not lol #litg Tim #litg talia #litg jake #litg priya #litg hope

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epicstuckyficrecs · 4 years

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Weekly Recap | March 9-22

Didn’t even realize but I completely forgot the recap for the week of March 9th to March 15th because I was too busy trying to find a flight home from Scotland (fuck coronavirus and bojo!!!) So now you get two weeks worth of fics!

Complete

good on my own (needed me) by mcwho (Modern AU, Teacher Bucky | 12K | Explicit): There are some mistakes that could be made by anybody. Anybody. Bucky taught high school pretty much his whole life, and that was fine, those were kids, and he knew all of them anyway, which meant there was very little chance of him accidentally fucking any of his students during an impulsive post-marital-breakdown Grindr hook-up. Which is exactly what he had done with Steve.

💙 The Conservation of a 17th Century Painting by birdjay/ @bird-jay (Modern AU, Artist Steve | 13K | Explicit): Well. He does live alone, and it’s not like anyone would find out. He could safely stick his hand down his pants right now and not have to worry about it. He’s jerked off loads of times in his own apartment. It’s...healthy to let stress out this way...right? And the fact that it’s to a doctor of art history isn’t weird. Or at least, not super weird. People have masturbated to weirder things. Steve knows that for sure. And it’s not like Dr. Barnes is rough on the eyes or anything, either. He’s quite possibly the most handsome man Steve’s looked at in months. And, well, there’s the whole art side to things, as well. (Part 1 of The Met: Art Conservation Studies)

Re-framing the Canvas by birdjay/ @bird-jay (Modern AU | 4K | Explicit): Steve and Dr. Barnes's first date. (Part 2 of The Met: Art Conservation Studies)

Perfectly Mad by ClaraxBarton/ @claraxbarton (PWP, Shrunkyclunks | 2,2K | Explicit): Whoever had decided to seat Steve beside Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes - eldest son of President Winifred Barnes, war hero, recently returned from a three month stay as a hostage of an offshoot of the same terrorist group that had once held Tony Stark - was clearly an idiot. Actually, in Steve’s opinion, whoever had thought Barnes attending the dinner at all was an idiot. Whoever had thought inviting Steve to the dinner was an idiot.

own me, i'll let you play the role (i'll be your animal) by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid (Werewolf Steve, PWP | 6,7K | Explicit): He wanders into a clearing, the same one where he stood, almost three months ago, watching the Quinjet while waiting for Steve to come running to him. It was the start of something…educational. It’s one thing to take Steve as he is, another to love it the way Bucky did. He has no regrets. He’s been worse things than a monster-fucker. - Bucky’s not wearing red, but he’s got a big, bad wolf on his tail. (Part 3 of 💙in this story, you have claws)

i look like all you need by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3 (PWP, Daddy Bucky | 4,9K | Explicit): “Steve,” James starts, voice so low and so deep, a shiver running down Steve’s spine, “Baby, you can either come here and stand in front of me…or I’ll drag you by your fucking hair and put you there. Choose.” (Part 1 of Daddy James Bucky Barnes/Twink Steve)

i'm seein' the pain, seein' the pleasure by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3 (PWP, Daddy Bucky | 1,8K | Explicit): Steve had barely been able to keep up, gasping and trying to ask what James was doing, his thigh pulled up and hiked around a thick waist, a filthy roll of James’ hips. James had whispered low in his ear, “Wouldn’t be a good Daddy if I didn’t make sure my sweet boy got to bed…” (Part 2 of Daddy James Bucky Barnes/Twink Steve)

💙 No One Else by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3 (Sugar Daddy Steve | 12K | Explicit): And now here he is, walking up the steps to Steve’s brownstone at 12:03 in the morning on a Thursday night. He’s standing there like a fucking idiot with his tail between his legs, his hand coming up to ring the doorbell and falling back to his side maybe 8 times, and he lets out a shaky sigh. What if Steve wasn’t awake? Was this out of line? Showing up to his house in the middle of the fucking night? Fuck. (Part 1 of Modern Daddy Steve Rogers/Young Bucky Barnes)

Never Before by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3 (PWP | 5,6K | Explicit): Before Steve, Bucky enjoyed sex, engaging in it frequently with various partners, enjoying himself and the pleasure he could bring others. But when Steve came along his world was flipped upside-fucking-down. Bucky had never felt so desperate, so needy, so pathetic for someone. He had never once been brought to tears during sex or because of sex but Steve brought them out of him almost every time, whether it be from the sex itself or for begging for it. He had no idea what his body and what his mind were capable of during sex until he came along. It was like Bucky had never had sex before Steve entered his life. (Part 2 of Modern Daddy Steve Rogers/Young Bucky Barnes)

Slumber by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3 (PWP, Daddy Steve | 4,1K | Explicit): “Bucky, honey. Can’t get enough even when you’re sleepin’, huh?” (Part 3 of Modern Daddy Steve Rogers/Young Bucky Barnes)

Mad With It by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3 (PWP | 3,9K | Explicit): “Bucky, come here.” Fuck that. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t move and he finds himself gritting out, “Make me.” He knows he’s being a brat, knows he has been all damn day. He knows Steve is being as sweet as can be, trying to be supportive, but he can only take so much. (Part 5 of Modern Daddy Steve Rogers/Young Bucky Barnes)

Cyclone by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3 (PWP | 4,9K | Explicit): “Listen to those manners, baby, so good. You can have all of Daddy’s cock you want but you better fucking work for it.” (Part 6 of Modern Daddy Steve Rogers/Young Bucky Barnes)

Delirious by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3 (PWP | 2,8K | Explicit): “Fuck, honey you look so good takin’ it for me. That little cock has come twice already and look how hard it is for Daddy. Said you couldn’t come and look at you about to come all over my cock.” (Part 7 of Modern Daddy Steve Rogers/Young Bucky Barnes)

I Just Wanna Tell You Somethin' by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3 (PWP | 1,4K | Explicit): Bucky had been so preoccupied at the library studying with Natasha that he hadn’t even realized his phone had been ringing. Or that he had missed quite a handful of text messages. Luckily it was only one missed call, but his stomach clenched nervously when he saw that there was a voicemail. A long voicemail. (Part 8 of Modern Daddy Steve Rogers/Young Bucky Barnes)

Lately You've Been on my Mind by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3 (PWP | 1,8K | Explicit): As soon as Steve’s office door is closed behind him, he lets out an incredibly deep sigh, his tense shoulders slumping, his eyes falling shut. Meeting after meeting after meeting had consumed his day and most of them had unfortunately been arduous with difficult clients and a test of patience. Steve needed to go home for the weekend and it felt like he needed it more than he needed to breathe. He slips his phone from his pocket and immediately curses. He missed a call from Bucky. (Part 9 of Modern Daddy Steve Rogers/Young Bucky Barnes)

💙 Gym Day by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3 (PWP | 19K | Explicit): He sits up and rolls his neck, hands planted on either side of his hips on the wooden bench beneath him, focusing on his posture, and looks over at the man sitting with him. Oh shit. (Part 1 of Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Solider Bucky Barnes| Shrinkyclinks)

Easy Like Sunday Mornin' by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3 (PWP | 3,2K | Explicit): Today is a Sunday and the universally-accepted laziness of the day may be why Steve finds himself wanting it slow and sweaty and deep. Bucky didn’t ask questions. (Part 2 of Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Solider Bucky Barnes| Shrinkyclinks)

💙 Right in my Space by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3 (PWP | 9K | Explicit): Fuck. Steve’s head falls against the door with a gentle thump that he knows Bucky has to hear from the other side. Bucky was the absolute best and the absolute worst thing he could have seen on the other side of his door, especially with his slightly muddled red-wine-filled brain. He has worked so hard to avoid this moment, has hurt himself over and over again, and here he is feeling vulnerable standing at his door at midnight while the guy he definitely doesn’t want to date and definitely might not be in love with stands on the other side. (Part 3 of Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Solider Bucky Barnes| Shrinkyclinks)

life is but a dream by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3 (PWP | 2,3K | Explicit): “Beg for it.” The phrase bounces around in Bucky’s brain like a pinball, off different sides, rolling around the curvature of his skull. His eyes are open, but his vision is a little hazy, can make out Steve’s slim backside as it hovers over Bucky’s angry erection, his amused but hot facial expression. Steve lets go of Bucky’s dick, smacks his hand down hard on his stomach instead, “Gone on me already, honey?” (Part 4 of Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Solider Bucky Barnes| Shrinkyclinks)

Edging Closer by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen)/ @leveragehunters (Modern AU | 1,4K | Teen): Bucky had an apartment of his very own (okay, technically he co-owned it with the bank) and a neighbour of his very own: Steve Rogers, tall, blond, built and ridiculously kind. Sure, Bucky had accused said neighbour of being a butt-pic snapping pervert, but amazingly enough he'd been forgiven. In fact, he'd been more than forgiven, but even after dating Steve for not-quite-a-year, Bucky's eyebrows shot up when Steve dropped down next to him on the couch and casually asked, "Do you want to try edging this weekend?" (Part 2 of Two Men and a Single Entendre)

WIP

💙 Like it's the Only Thing I'll Ever Do by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3 (ABO AU | 3/4 | 22K | Explicit): When Steve opens the door, Bucky feels like he’s been living in clouds for the past few days, maybe even his entire life. Steve is life, Steve is happiness, Steve is the sun. He has such a visceral reaction to seeing the Alpha that he feels his knees go weak, feels his body draw tight towards the other man, pulled in. Or big Alpha Steve moves into sweet little Omega Bucky's apartment building and a roller-coaster build of a romance ensues.

💙 the reverie was not of me, you never saw nothing (so good for you and good for me) by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid (Canon divergent | 2/? | 15K | Explicit): S.H.I.E.L.D and the Red Room throw Captain America and the Winter Soldier together for yet another mission. Serendipity is a tricky thing. (Part 2 of lay your heart into my perfect machine)

The Mnemosyne Project by onymousann (Post-WS | 2/? | 4,5K | Explicit): Someone's trying to talk to the Winter Soldier. Steve intends to find out who. (Part 2 of ocean eyes)

Paradise Lost (& Found) by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Modern AU | 28/? | 62K | Mature): Meeting at a tropical resort AU where Steve is there on a 2-week honeymoon package after his fiancee left him at the altar, and Bucky is there for his sister’s destination wedding but doesn’t have a room because there was a mix up with the reservations in the system.

💙 Whip Crack by Quarra/ @quarra (Tentacles AU | 109K | 13/? | Explicit): Tentacle Monster Steve is captured by Hydra. They send in the Winter Soldier with a bull whip to break him, but as far as Steve's concerned the most beautiful creature he's ever seen walked in to his cell and started waving a sexy black tentacle at him. It's love at first sight.

Re-read

wild at heart by spacebuck/ @spacebuck (Shrunkyclunks, Soulmates AU | 11K | Explicit): Steve's volunteering when he meets his soulmate, and the cheetahs Bucky's responsible for make pretty good matchmakers, too.

#stucky #stucky fic #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction #stucky fic rec #weekly recap

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twopoppies · 6 years

Note

Can you recommend folklore fics, fairies or elves? ❤

Hmmmm. I’m not sure that I’ve actually read a lot that I’ve loved. But, these are a few that could fall into that category that I can recommend. I hope you find something here!

Fairies, Unicorns, Mermaids, Witches, and more…

May We Stay Lost On Our Way Home by LoadedGunn (E, 74K)

Harry thought he had a handle on things. He hasn’t gotten papped in over a month, even the most zealous of fans have given up on finding his location, the Fortress is starting to look hospitable, and Niall just learned how to make shrimp bisque. Even having a massive crush on a gorgeous mythical woodland creature was working out for him.

Most of the time.

On March 31st, Harry Styles disappears. Though many speculate, only two people know where to find him: Niall, his former guitarist, and Zayn, who follows where Niall leads.

The fact the biggest boy band in the world broke up two weeks earlier might be related to the disappearance. The fact Harry meets a fairy named Louis in the woods is a whole other matter.

(Liam is a centaur.)

just a dream by BriaMaria / @briannamarguerite (M, 4.7K)

“Won’t you join me?” The voice was soft, more melody than anything else. It wrapped around Louis, silken bands that tugged at his arms, at his chest.

He didn’t step out of the shadows. “No.”

The man in the pond smiled, sad and sweet and knowing, and then sunk beneath the water in the next heartbeat. The butterflies that had adorned his chest like jewelry, that had tangled in his dark curls, fluttered away.

–

Or the one where Louis is the king of the forest, Harry is friends with butterflies and a war is brewing on the horizon.

Until You Remember by Throwthemflowers / @hazzabeeforlou (E, 21K)

Harry lowered his head a moment, then whispered, “It hurts, Lou. If you kissed me, it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

Louis set his mug down with a clink on the coffee table. “What wouldn’t hurt so much?”

Harry closed his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Fooking bloody hell…” Louis cursed under his breath as he brought his hands to his face and rubbed roughly over his cheekbones. “Harry, do you know what… what…”

“What is wrong with me?” Harry finished in a soft, small voice.

Louis’s heart dissolved into a mass of pulsing shame. He pulled the man to him and gently pressed his lips to Harry’s forehead.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Harry. You’re kind and sweet and good, and I don’t understand you at all, and I don’t know if I ever will, but there’s nothing wrong with you, darling. Nothing at all.” Louis breathed in his scent, swallowing hard.

–Talented London pianist Louis Tomlinson moves to a small coastal town to escape the elites of his job and the mundanity of his life. Through the music of Debussy he finds a charming, wonderful friend in Harry Styles, the fiancé of the town’s mayor. Louis thinks his pining is in vain until he discovers that all may not be as it seems….

domestic monsters by g_uttertrash (series, 9 works so far, varied rating T, M, E, 234K so far)

Part 1: Harry is a witch from a long line of power, an ancient line that’s one of the strongest left alive in their hemisphere. He can cast spells without a word if need be, fly on a broomstick, and has a black cat (a kitten, really) named Felix that is his animal familiar. He can shape galaxies in his cupped hands and can destroy them just as easily. He can choose exactly how to use his power, for encouragement and support, or for more nefarious causes if he wishes to.

And as fate would have it, he’s scared of haunted houses.

(Harry is a witch who carries around a stuffed pumpkin, Louis is a vampire with too much time on his hands, and their best mates Zayn & Niall aren’t exactly what they seem…)

as we move slowly by snsk (G, 2.6K)

“You know what color your wings are?” Harry asked conversationally, on his stomach at the tattoo parlor, while Louis played absentmindedly with one dangling hand and flipped through some designs.

// Alternatively: Louis grows wings. Harry is the only one who can see them.

to the light by @fondleeds (NR, 13K)

“Hey,” Louis kicks his leg out at him, misses by a mile, but Harry’s cheeks still glow at it, all close-mouthed smile and dimples. “It’s Christmas. I refuse to let you be lonesome and dejected on Christmas.”

“It’s not Christmas yet,” Harry says, matter-of-fact, like he knew that before Louis told him about it that first week of December, when the lights had started appearing and Harry had risen out of the water with such wonder and dreaminess in his eyes, the last dustings of snow caught in his wet lashes.

“It’s the Christmas season,” Louis responds. Harry rolls his eyes at him.

AU. Harry is a mermaid lost at sea and Louis is a boy determined to make his first Christmas a memorable one.

Take Me Under the Blue by objectlesson / @horsegirlharry (E, 19K)

Louis hasn’t even seen his legs yet. He doesn’t know how they work or how long they’ll be. Maybe they won’t suit the rest of Harry at all, and he’ll have to grow into them or something. It doesn’t matter; Louis has loved Harry for a year with scales, so he can’t imagine wonky legs putting a damper on his attraction.

He supposes he’ll just have to find out. In the meantime, he wonders how the fuck he got here, in his squelching wellies about to save the love of his life from the sea and take him to bed and bang him for the very first time.

It’s sort of a long story.

Sing You Butterflies by objectlesson / @horsegirlharry (E, 23K)

Louis stares for a moment before some primal sympathetic force in him activates. He has to help this boy. He can hardly walk, and he seems so young (yet ageless, beyond age, like a sea turtle or a parrot or a tree or something else odd and magical), and on top of all that, he has body glitter clinging to his skin, like that roll-on stuff his sisters used to use as preteens, only pink-gold and twice as thick. It’s, like, professional grade. He’s also wearing grass- and dirt-stained pink silk women’s underwear, so maybe he’s from London. Maybe he’s a drag queen who crawled all the way from a nightclub in Soho just to save Louis from his horribly mundane and woefully heterosexual neighbours out here in the middle of nowhere.

—

or, Harry’s a clumsy unicorn who accidentally stomps on a witch’s garden and is turned into a human as punishment, so he wanders into a nearby village covered in glitter, still figuring out how to walk on two feet, and meets the fairy-tale-fine Louis, who has to teach him how to live as a human and stop him from eating soap.

hold on to your stars before they fade by adelagia (T, 30K) *note: I haven’t read this one, but a friend whose taste I trust recommended it

The first time they meet, it is sunrise, and Harry is naked.

(Or, the one where Harry is a lost fairy, and Louis takes him in.)

Enjoy…

#magic au #mermaid au #fairy au #my fic rec #larry fic rec #mine #solounpamplemousse

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softjeon · 6 years

Text

Colorblind | Pt. 3

• Pairing: Jungkook x Taehyung • Genre: Angst / Hitman!Gang AU • Words: 19k | Co-Writer: Cat @cassiavioletblue ↳ (AO3) • Disclaimer: mentioning of drugs/ alcohol / violence / graphic content

↳ Jungkook should have turned around on his heel and run back home while he still could - but he had some really awful habits that got him into problems regularly. That was also the reason why he was now standing next to man, who he only knew the name of, who had blood all over his hands. « previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter »

When Jungkook came back to the bedroom he stopped short right in front of the bed, torn between lying back down or using the couch as he had initially said he would. Figuring it didn’t matter now anyway he chose the more comfortable option, sneaking under the covers quickly and wrapping himself up into what he deemed half of them. His chest still felt like it was too small to contain his heart and his head had started to hurt so he closed his eyes to make it feel better and let the dark wash over him. However he was still awake when he heard Tae coming back into the room, slow, measured footsteps that came to a halt in front of the bed, just like his a few minutes before. He didn’t open his eyes even though his heartbeat quickened because of the others presence alone.

Taehyung was watching Jungkook closely for a while, standing there frozen in his spot, balling his hands into fists. Turning around he walked over to his closet, roaming through his own clothes to find something that would fit Jungkook, before he neatly placed them on the chair right next to the bed. He could feel Jungkook’s glances on his back each time he was moving around. He knew he was awake. Just before Taehyung opened the door again, he turned and looked straight back at Jungkook, “Be ready at 5am tomorrow and meet me outside. If you’re not, I’ll make sure someone will drag you out.” With that he closed the door behind, leaving Jungkook alone. There was no way he wanted to spend the night with Jungkook in his room anymore.

The ice in Tae’s voice cut through him like a knife and it was the first time after he had let the other tie him up that he really truly feared him. There was no way he would be able to sleep that night, wracking his brain about what Tae might want him up and about so early in the morning for and what would happen if he wasn’t there on time. It was not that he had any kind of alarm clock on him, just his phone with its battery half-empty and Jungkook’s mind being too used to its sounds that he wasn’t really sure if it would wake him up properly. He didn’t have to worry though. He was staying more or less awake the whole time till morning, getting up when the first rays of sun were peeking through the window. He used the small bathroom that was right besides the bedroom, wondering where Tae might have spend the night. He combed through his hair with his fingers, thankful for its silky texture that helped him look decent even though he didn’t have a hair brush. A look into the mirror had him wishing for some concealer as he couldn’t hide the shadows under his eyes as easily as the deranged state of his hair and clothes. Taehyung had told him to meet him “outside” but Jungkook had no idea if he was going in the right direction when he finally left the room. At least he knew where the kitchen was now and he figured that it must be where most of the others were staying at the moment, getting coffee or eating breakfast so he tried his luck there first.

Hoseok was the only one up this early, or better he was the only one who hadn't been sleeping yet as he washed his hands in the sink, the water turning red underneath. “Oh, hey kiddo,” He said happily, the little spots of blood on his face didn’t waver his happy aura a bit, as he reached out for an apple. Biting into it deliciously, he shrugged his shoulders when Jungkook asked where Taehyung was. “You look cute in his clothes,” Hoseok chuckled, as he pulled lightly at the sweatshirt Jungkook was wearing, “Maybe look outside and around the house, when it’s a beautiful day like this Taehyung likes to work out in the morning.” Waving his apple in the air, he grinned cheekily, “Anyways, I need to get rid off this blood. Good night, kiddo!”

At first Jungkook thought that Hoseok was cleaning strawberry juice off his hands or something of similar innocence you could normally find in a kitchen like blood oranges but apparently killing people was on their daily to do list so that was were the red was coming from. He was a bit dumbfounded while Hoseok walked away smiling like he hadn’t just casually mentioned killing someone off and a shiver run down all along his spine. Of all of the guys he had met Hoseok felt like the creepiest to him - because there must be a little crazy involved if someone smiled as happy as this after coming back from an all nighter that had involved getting blood all over oneself. Also it had him frustrated that he had mentioned him wearing Tae’s clothes - while not giving him any more clues on where he was. If he had known where the front door was he would have tried to get there in the first place. If he didn't find the way outside quickly Tae would have his head for it. Maybe even literally… Jungkook turned on his heels and walked through the corridors as fast and as quietly as he could, trying to find a way out or at least someone who could show it to him.

While Jungkook was frantically searching for the exit, Taehyung was leaning against the frame of the backdoor, his head resting against the wood, his eyes closed. He hadn’t had much sleep, the thoughts kept spiraling in his head and the jealousy was still dimly lit inside of him, only waiting for a spark to fire up again. A noise coming from the right made Taehyung look up and he saw Jungkook jogging down the stairs of the main hall, but instead of going into his direction it rather looked like the young boy was panicking and decided to go the wrong direction. Taehyung smirked, loving the feel of power that was settling in his chest. He was aware that Jungkook probably was scared because of him. Good. He wanted him to be.

Letting Jungkook run around a little lost, he waited for him to finally get to his direction, but somehow Jungkook was not realizing that the door he was supposed to go through was right behind him and at the end of the little hallway. Taehyung decided to whistle for him to get his attention. “He, baby boy,” Taehyung growled, “You’re late.” The sharp whistle snapped Jungkook out of his frantic search of the exit and he came to a sharp halt. Through a window he could see Tae standing only a few metres away from him in a little lobby that obviously lead to the outside, gesturing him to come right to him. When Jungkook realized that the exit had been right there all along and he just hadn’t recognized it as such because it looked like any other door that led to another room he could have kicked himself for running around like an idiot, which Tae had very certainly watched him do.

Opening the door with a strong push, Taehyung stepped outside, not really looking at Jungkook and rather ignoring his presence. He knew it was childish of him to act up like this. Jungkook didn’t owe him anything, but still, the jealousy made it hard to think rationally. So, he had decided that he should focus on the task ahead: which was getting Jungkook ready to be able to fight someone and therefore he needed to train him, even though it would take years to make him as good as the other members were. He hadn’t told him yet why Taehyung brought the young boy with him in the first place - who would have thought the other sneaked his way into his heart so quickly? No matter what Taehyung didn’t want Jungkook to be completely lost in a life or death situation. What if he wouldn’t be fast enough to be there for him? Turning back, he glared at Jungkook. Brows furrowed as he concentrated hard to keep his thoughts in place. No more mistakes – he had only taken Jungkook with him, because of the mission anyways. After that he would just get rid of him again, just like Namjoon wanted him to. “Run,” Taehyung growled and was suddenly pushing Jungkook forward, “Didn’t you hear me? I said: Run!”

Jungkook stumbled, the rough shove against his back making him lose his balance completely. He turned around to ask Tae what this was all about and why the hell he was acting like he had done something wrong but the words were stuck in his throat. Tae’s eyes were deadly cold, a dangerous glare in them that had Jungkook shivering involuntarily just from being at the receiving end of his stare. He told himself that there was no reason to fear Tae, the other wouldn’t really kill him or else he would have just done that but his instincts screamed at him to just get the fuck out of the other boy’s reach. So he turned his back on him and started running, bolting from Tae as fast as he could.

Tae smirked, quickly catching up and running behind Jungkook. He was the predator, feeling his fear while Jungkook was running with such reckless speed, almost hurtling through the forest like a frightened little squirrel. Jungkook was dodging branches and fallen trees smoothly and Taehyung had to admit he was impressed with his agility. While Taehyung was running behind Jungkook, keeping close, he noticed that Jungkook was heading north. Having no idea where he was, running blindly and in panic, Taehyung caught up to Jungkook fast. Just right to hold him tight on his arm, to make him stop dead in tracks and pull his full body harshly back. Jungkook hadn’t expected Tae to catch him that quickly, he knew he was fast and he had hoped that he could outrun the other but Taehyung had caught him and pulled him back just like that. Falling against Tae had knocked the breath out if him because the other was nothing but solid muscle and he was out of breath and gasping anyway - but even if he would have had the air to speak his mind would have been too blank to do so because of the fear that crept further and further into his synapses, overwhelming his brain until he was paralyzed with it.

“Rule number one: Always be aware of your surroundings. Listen and watch closely where you take the next step, even if you run away from something or someone,” Taehyung said slightly out of breath, helping Jungkook to find his balance again, staring right back into his eyes to make sure the other was listening attentively. He was shaking his head in confusion, wanting to speak up but then Jungkook heard something. Holding his breath he listened. He could decipher a sound, coming from somewhere close to him. Looking to where the sound was coming from, he took a few steps ahead, getting out of Taehyung's grip. Suddenly he saw a small clearing and a mountain cliff. A chill ran down his spine. If Tae hadn’t gripped him in that very moment he might have run ahead and stumbled right into the water, breaking his bones on the slippery stones or even worse, falling down the cliffs edge and breaking his neck. Well, Tae had made his point quite clearly. Jungkook felt even more like a deer hunted by a wolf who had taken a liking in playing with his food before taking the final hit.

“What... what is this about? You could have just told me that it is dangerous around here. No need to hunt me like that!”, he spat at the other, stepping back when Tae looked at him with his cold eyes again. His heart was still beating like crazy from the sudden sprint, the adrenalin making him jumpy and overly sensitive.

“You’re still not convinced that I won’t kill you, huh? I promised to keep you safe, or else I wouldn’t have held you back,” Taehyung said in a serious tone, “After all you were the one who was running away like a little squirrel.” Taking a deep breath, he stretched his arm over his head and rolled his shoulders back, before speaking up again, “Anyways, let’s jog a little further and then go back. You still got a lot to learn today.” This time Taehyung didn’t drag Jungkook, instead he just jogged ahead, keeping a good speed but not sprinting like they did before.

“Squirrel?!” Jungkook’s offended huff was too silent for Tae to hear because the younger wasn’t really convinced it was a good idea to speak up against Tae right now. He might have run away from Tae if only he knew where exactly he was right now and if he hadn’t been so out breath. Or if something inside of him wouldn’t still be so fucking fascinated by him. So he glared at Tae’s back from behind where it was safe, while following him like an obedient puppy.

Taehyung quickened his pace a little, with Jungkook right next to him. It was quiet, maybe even a little uncomfortable but there was no way Taehyung was admitting it. “Second rule: Teamwork is more important than anything else,” Taehyung explained, “Believe me, when I tell you that trying to do something completely on your own will only make you fail.” He grabbed Jungkook’s wrist and pointed down a steep ravine, as they needed to help each other (even if they both not necessarily wanted to right now) climbing down. They crossed a small stream, until they came to a gravel road, that was leading to a lighter path in the forest. “Tell me, baby boy, which way do we go?” He cocked up his eyebrow, wanting to know if Jungkook was able to think ahead. He waited, listened. Birds chirped, insects buzzed and his own heart beating loudly in his chest.

“How the fuck should I know? I wasn’t a boy scout but if you wanna do this ‘be one with nature - learn to listen to your surroundings’- shit then why not go to a camping weekend instead? Why do you need me for all of this?” Jungkook crossed his arms in front of his chest and stayed right where he was. He was irritated and on edge and even though Taehyung had kinda assured him that he was save with him Jungkook was inwardly pouting. He was angry at himself for being scared so easily and also angry at Tae for switching between caring and dangerous every five minutes. The other would give him emotional whiplash if he continued doing this. “I kinda get that you’re trying to give me a lesson here but what for? Is it so difficult for you to talk to me first before pushing me into something? I understand that you normally don’t talk to others besides threats maybe and it’s probably better that way as I am sure that most people who are ‘lucky’ enough to meet you end up getting killed but if you want me to be your partner in this how about just biting the bullet and letting me in on where you are going with this?”

“Wrong answer,” Taehyung said, his eyes getting it’s dangerous glint again. He was fast, making Jungkook unable to foresee what he was doing next. With one quick motion he had pressed Jungkook against the nearest tree, his arm pushing down onto the younger one’s chest, who was gasping for air from the sudden impact. “Third and most important rule: Don’t let your feelings get in the way,” Taehyung grunted, pressing down onto Jungkook a little more before letting go again. He didn’t think that Jungkook had the guts to do anything, therefore he turned his back on him, to calm himself down. That’s why he was even more surprised when a sudden impact made him fall. Jungkook was only getting more angry at the physical attack paired with Tae’s impassive face - so angry that he had actually jumped him. Feeling Jungkook’s weight on him, Taehyung turned quick, pushing the other boy around. “Do you ever-… just listen?” Taehyung grunted, pushing his knee into his neck, pressing him down into the dirt. Only seconds after, he let go of him again. His attack didn’t even last a second before his back hit the ground. Taehyung was quick and sleazy, pushing him off like it was nothing even though he had turned his back on him and hadn’t been able to see him coming. Jungkook knew he should have stayed down and play it off or get his anger under control but he was so furious, about way too much to just let Tae go. Taehyung got up, taking a few measured steps back. His eyes challenging Jungkook to try and take him down. Jungkook was on his feet in a second, ignoring the way his neck hurt from where Tae had pressed him down forcefully, trying to haul a blow at the other. Taehyung almost chuckled at Jungkook’s weak attempt, catching his wrist easily and turning him around and Jungkook down on his knee. His other hand gripped Jungkook’s neck harshly, pressing his face down and his elbow upwards. “That’s all you got?” Taehyung grunted and let go again. A smile was on his face, when he saw that Jungkook was up on his feet in a second again – not one bit of his anger faded. This time it was a little harder for Taehyung to grip Jungkook and though they were fighting, he noticed that the other had learned that quick already, changing up his tactics. He pushed Jungkook hard, making him stumble backwards and onto the ground. As fast as Jungkook was, Taehyung was a little faster. His left hand caught Jungkook’s wrist tight, forcing it downward. Simultaneously his right first drove a smashing blow full into the biceps of Jungkook’s arm. Twisting his wrist down hard, Jungkook pulled back whining in distress. The pain in his wrist had the younger clenching his teeth hard. He could feel the nausea and exhaustion slowing him down. He hadn’t eaten for a while, hadn’t slept that much, had been chased through the woods and now he was caught up in a useless fight against someone who didn’t even break into sweat while warding him off. The first real blow from Jungkook hit the side of Taehyung’s neck and sent him sprawling backward, as it caught him by surprise. Tasting the metal on his tongue, he smiled wickedly, “Good.”

“Good!? Is this a joke to you? I’m… I’m fucking angry at you! I’m not a toy for you to play with, a puppet you can turn and use how you like! I’m no dog you can train for your purpose and leave in the dark during the rest because you feel like it! I know I would be useless as one of your members and I don’t even want to be because...because i’m not fucking empty! Do you even see when you hurt me? Do you even care? Or are human emotions already lost on you and the only thing that’s left are some sparse traces of childish joys that you just randomly let out?” He was too lost in his anger to register how personal he got and that yelling at Tae like that while being lost in the woods might be a tad bit stupid.

Taehyung’s body language changed the second Jungkook was screaming at him. His eyes wide, when it hit him, that he indeed had hurt Jungkook – at least physically for that matter. He gulped hard, while listening to Jungkook’s rant was making him painfully aware of the emptiness inside of him. It was evoking the anger in him even more, mixing them with the rollercoaster of emotions he felt since Jungkook stepped into his life only making his body shake as he couldn’t control it anymore. Blinking a few times, Taehyung was awfully aware of the tears that were glistening in his eyes. “Don’t you dare tell me I don’t care,” His voice was almost not audible, before a growl left his lips and he jolted forward, pushing Jungkook against the next best tree and holding him in place. His lips only inches away from the other, his eyes glistening but full of anger, “You. don’t. fucking. know. me.” His hand travelled upwards Jungkook’s chest, settling on the younger one’s neck lightly. “You think you know me, huh? Do you realize who you are talking to?” His thumb was caressing over Jungkook skin, where he could feel the aorta pumping crazily beneath, “Why are you even mad at me? I’m not the one, going around throwing myself at random strangers - what did Jimin told you? Was it worth the price you paid?” Taehyung had to held it all together, or else he would feel like he would burst from the emotions. Jungkook was panting from pain and fear and surprise that Tae could overpower him again and again while he was unable to defend himself. The other’s hand on his throat burned like heated metal on his skin and he couldn’t keep himself from grabbing Taehyung’s arm in a helpless attempt to pull him off of him. Still he couldn’t just hold his tongue so he continued even though his voice was shaking a little. “Wh...whose fault is it though, hm? That I don’t know you. I tried to get to you to talk to me more than once and you always block me as if I am trying to assault you. I’m not the enemy, Tae, I never was. And.. and I’m not throwing myself at random strangers”, He hissed the last words, full of poison (probably because a little voice in the back of his mind told him that he had done exactly that when he went with Tae, although he had known nothing about him) “In fact it definitely was worth the price. Not only because Jimin is an amazing kisser but because he talked to me instead of leaving me in the dark. You should try it sometimes. You might even like it more than having your head stuck up your...”

Taehyung’s body responded to him automatically and involuntarily, the grip around Jungkook’s neck tightened a little, but without choking the other in any way only to pull him forward and against him. Without a warning, he kissed him, probing his mouth with his tongue and sending icicles of shivery sensations ricocheting from his head to his toes. His full mouth fitting Jungkook’s perfectly, like parts of the same puzzle. Jungkook flinched when he touched his tongue delicately to the tender underside of his upper lip, falling deeper into his arms. Everything he felt before was nothing against the assault on his soul, the voracious tasting, probing and hungry melding of their mouths, their bodies pressed intimately together. His knees shook.

When Taehyung finally released Jungkook, letting him come up for air, Taehyung was staggering backwards a little, stunned at the force of emotion sweeping through him. Suddenly all cautions, inhibitions and survival instinct had ben pancaked into oblivion by a naïve young boy, called Jungkook. “I just don’t want you to get hurt,” He took a few steps away, looking down onto his feet when he realized what he had done again, “I- I’m sorry.”

Jungkook licked his lips to savour the taste of Taehyung's on his lips a little longer. To say this had come unexpected was an understatement. Taehyung had looked ready to hit him right then and there but instead he had pulled him in for a kiss! And what a kiss it had been! He could still feel the aftereffects in his body.

“Did you just...?” He broke into laughter at Tae’s words, too giddy from the endorphins rushing through him. “Did you idiot just apologize for kissing me?” He reached out for Tae and pulled him back against him by his waist. “Don’t do that, please,” His smile was gentle when he touched Tae’s face, tracing the prominent cheekbones as he had wished to do and then following the elegant curve of his mouth down to his bottom lip. “Just... just kiss me again.”

Taehyung was taken back, gulping heavily. No, this wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be doing this. Everything in him revolted but at the same time everything screamed for him to kiss Jungkook again. To feel alive for a moment. “Jungkook, please,” Taehyung whispered, his hand carefully wrapping around his wrist and pulling it off his face, “I can’t. You will get yourself in danger, I can’t-, I can’t let anything happen to you.” There was a lump in his throat, making it so much harder for him to talk. “I wouldn’t survive this one more time,” He mumbled, pulling in Jungkook anyways. This time more softly, getting drunk on his taste right away.

Jungkook’s mind didn’t really register that Taehyung had just said something about surviving loss again, too occupied with the way Taehyung’s lips felt on his. As aggressive as the other might appear so gentle he could be when he wanted to. Jungkook got easily lost in the sensation of kissing him, just like he had got lost in his kiss with Jimin. What was different this time was the little flutter in his stomach and the way his heart decided to just skip a few beats for fun. Taehyung was almost hesitant this time and Jungkook was taking over willingly, licking into the others mouth to taste as much of him as he could. He could feel Taehyung tremble and gently broke away from him, caressing his face again in a soothing gesture.

“Are you...are you okay?” Then it finally hit him what the other had hinted at “What do you - oh. You... lost someone? In this?” When Tae didn’t answer right away he hurriedly continued, “It’s fine, you don’t need to answer. I know that you don’t like to talk about personal stuff. Just... please don’t shut yourself off from me? I’ll try to learn. I’m gonna defend myself as good as I can for whatever scenario you need me for. I won’t...die on you, okay?” He swallowed dryly at his assurance, one that he had actually no control over.

The second Jungkook was talking about Taehyung’s past, it felt like the house of cards that was his life started falling down. There was nothing that sheltered him anymore, he felt bare naked in front of Jungkook, shaking his head furiously. “It’s not going to be enough,” Taehyung stuttered, taking a few more steps away from Jungkook, the tears in his eyes clouding the view, “What if I won’t be able to be there? I won’t be fast enough… won’t be good enough to protect you. Why didn’t you run away from me? Why did you let me pull you along?” He could feel how he was losing control over everything, the ground was shaking beneath him and he was desperately looking for something to hold on to. He could hear her screaming in the distant, suddenly he felt too hot. “I took you with me because I was selfish, needed someone as bait. No, no, you can’t. Jungkook, please,” Taehyung knew he wasn’t making sense anymore, while the past mixed the present, making him dizzy from the thoughts that went spiraling in his head, “I will kill you. Please, run away from me.”

“Tae?” Jungkook could almost watch how Tae’s facade crumbled piece by piece while the other fell deeper and deeper into his own mind. He approached Taehyung cautiously, hands held out with his palms up to calm him down. “Don’t say that, please,” He could see how much Tae was hurting and he was shocked by how fast the other was slipping from his grasp “You don’t know what will happen. It’s gonna be fine.” Considering Jungkook had no idea what Taehyung’s mission would even be, he was getting on precarious ground here but he hoped that the “classics” would still help to calm Tae down because he didn’t know how else to help him. “It’ll be fine, I won’t get hurt, I promise. Namjoon wouldn’t send you to do something too difficult for you to succeed, right? He trusts you to do the job and I can help you. You won’t be alone in this.” Finally he could draw Taehyung in and pull him into a hug, that was tight enough for the other to feel his presence but lose enough to not feel caged in. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see,” He whispered against the others neck, placing a soft kiss on the nape. Taehyung stood there, frozen in spot, letting Jungkook draw him in easily. He flinched a little, feeling Jungkook’s soft lips on his skin, every fiber of his body aware and tingling. Closing his eyes, he squeezed them tight, furrowing his eyebrows in the process. Slowly but carefully, he was wrapping his arm around Jungkook, pulling him a little closer to his own body to feel the others warmth. The fear of losing someone again, someone that meant so much to him (even though he couldn’t wrap his mind around how Jungkook did that to him) was planted deep inside his soul. He couldn’t shake the feeling off so easily, but on the other hand Taehyung knew he hadn’t much of another choice. Now that Namjoon knew and everyone else, there was no way Tae could sneak Jungkook back home. They stayed entangled like this for a while, before Taehyung pulled off Jungkook his professional demeanor back in place.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. Are you okay? Are you hurting somewhere?” Grabbing the other’s chin lightly, he forced Jungkook to look to each side, carefully, as to see if the other was working fine and didn’t pull a muscle. Letting his hands wander down each side of his arms, he was looking out for any signs that he had bruised Jungkook badly. How did this boy manage to get stuck inside his mind so quick? Taehyung smiled faintly, as he intertwined his hand with Jungkook’s, at first a little hesitant but then pulled him along. This was way better than dragging Jungkook along by his arm or wrist all the time and Jungkook didn’t have to stumble along behind him but could walk besides Taehyung. “The answer was, to stay between the trees, by the way. The trail was too much out in the open, someone could have easily attacked you there, especially since you don’t know the environment,” Taehyung explained before he turned a little to Jungkook, showing off a weak smile.

“Yeah, yeah, stay between trees, I got it,” Jungkook mumbled back cheekily but without any spite. He was smiling too much for that to be believable. Taehyung liked him. He actually, genuinely liked him, not just as a distraction to pass the time but so much that he was scared of losing him! Although of course he didn't want the other to hurt, his heart was making somersaults at the way Taehyung had held onto him. His cheeks almost hurt from smiling so much while he walked besides Tae, holding hands like a couple on a date. A little swing in his step gave away how happy he was even though he tried to tone it down a little to not overwhelm Tae with it. The other probably had his hands full already with the scariness that was realizing you had let someone in without wanting to and all the problems it could bring for him and his job The best Jungkook could do for him was trying to play along with Namjoons rules and demands and support Tae emotionally as much as he could. He just hoped the other wouldn’t go back to “emotionless” in front of the others, though he reckoned that he shouldn’t be surprised if it would happen, there was a reason Tae had learned to pretend to be invulnerable and as beautiful as it had been to be allowed to see behind the mask, habit and pressure would probably make Tae slip back into his “default safety setting” that was acting as if there wasn’t any soft spot left inside of him. Jimin had even straight out told him that a soft heart was seen as a weakness so Jungkook would do best with playing along whatever Tae chose to do to not push him beyond his limits any further.

By the time they were back at the headquarters the sun had risen completely and Taehyung single-mindedly walked straight to his room - only there he let go of Jungkook’s hand. He went over to his closet, taking out some of his stuff to give it back to Jungkook. “You should change and maybe take a shower,” Taehyung said, “I’m really sorry that I pushed you into the dirt. I will tell you what it’s all about today, I promise,” Taking off his own sweatshirt, he grabbed another from his closet and pulled it over. “I…I’ll go and make breakfast for you. You’re probably starving,” Taehyung murmured, kissing Jungkook’s cheek hastily, as he reached out for the door handle. “I’m sorry for that, too,” Taehyung mumbled before vanishing behind the closed door. Standing in the room by himself Jungkook felt like he had slipped into a dream. Taehyung was taking care of him so well and openly that the younger was almost getting shy with it. But he loved it.

He did what Tae suggested and took a quick shower, letting the hot water relax his muscles and ease his mind, cleaning away the last traces of fear and everything else uncomfortable that he had felt the last few hours. When he stepped out he felt fresh and awake, buzzing with anticipation. Because Tae had told him that he would finally let him in on what the next step would be and why he had chased him through the forest in the first place. Wearing another set of clothes from Tae (that were just a tiny little bit tight around his chest) he went back into the kitchen (the only place he found without any problems at first try) to look if Tae had actually found the time to make breakfast and if yes if it looked anything like Hobi’s, which he remembered to be an apple with a hint of blood.

Tae just finished cutting some fresh food, with Jin next to him, who was stirring some fried eggs in a pan - he had asked the older member to help him, since he wasn’t the best cook in town and he wanted Jungkook to have something nice. “You want some coffee?” He said, smiling shyly as he poured some in, not even waiting for Jungkook’s answer. The glass double doors stood open outside of the kitchen. Jungkook could see the sun rays bend and fade over the trees, a faint cool breeze caressing his skin. “I didn’t know what you like, so we made everything,” Taehyung mumbled and sat down. It was nice to stumble into a scene like that, there was the smell of food and the soft light of a new day, the sound of frying eggs and the little hums that Jin made whenever he flipped something particularly nice inside the pan. He had only met the other once before while he was bound and scared out of his mind so Jungkook made sure to greet him properly now that the other was busy frying eggs for a domestic breakfast. “Good morning, Jin,” He made a little nod in his direction that could be interpreted as a bow if that’s how he was supposed to greet the other members. “Thank you for preparing this,” It was meant for both him and Tae so that Jin could just ignore him if he didn’t want to talk. Jin smiled, proud of his work. Unlike Tae, he knew he was a great cook. Grabbing himself a bowl, he poured some of the freshly cut fruit in, before he sat himself down right next to Taehyung. It was quiet for a while, before the oldest wrapped Jungkook into a conversation about his favorite topic: politics and the strategy of them and of course the gossip. As Taehyung munched his way through a breakfast of thick slices of toast smeared with eggs and butter, he was watching Jungkook closely while the younger one was talking to Jin. It was oddly domestic and a weird feeling settled inside the pit of his stomach. Jungkook almost felt like meeting Tae’s parents over dinner or something. Jin was a nice person to be around and Jungkook wondered if all of the members had a “dark” and a “social” side that they could switch to easily - well, besides Hobi maybe who seemed happy and social in any kind of situation even if it made it just more disturbing. Taehyung’s interest in the conversation was vanishing quickly (politics wasn’t really his favorite breakfast topic) as he looked out the door, biting his lip in anticipation. He would lie if he’d say he wasn’t scared that Jungkook would run away from him the second he knew what his role was in all of this. On the other hand, it probably was for the better if he did.

Sighing deeply, Taehyung didn’t notice that the others were already cleaning up, as he had gotten lost in his own mind again. Drying the last plate, Jin placed it neatly into the shelf. “Good, now we can get to work,” He grinned brightly and turned towards Jungkook, “You’re coming with me, kid.” After they had cleaned the table and Jin had put the leftovers in the fridge for the others (like a caring elder brother) Jungkook followed him although he still wasn’t sure what ‘going to work’ would entail. Maybe reading up on their next target. He swallowed harshly. He hadn’t asked if the gang had some kind of ‘codex’ like ‘don’t kill women and children’ or ‘no civilians’ but he was too scared how he might feel if the answer was ‘no’ so he still did not dare to ask.

Jin turned the corner from the kitchen, walking ahead and leading Jungkook out in a large hallway that he had never been in before, with colorful paintings hanging on the white walls. This part of the house was more decorated like an art gallery and Jungkook was looking around in awe. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around how big this house was.

Pushing open a double swing door, Jin turned, opening his arms as he was presenting himself and the room behind him.

“Welcome to my closet,” He said with a big grin. Taehyung stood right behind Jungkook, his hand finding its way to Jungkook’s back reassuringly. A closet wasn’t really what Jungkook was thinking of when he walked into what apparently was Jin’s private room. It could have been the bedroom of someone in their thirties who enjoyed elegant interior and tasteful wallpapers. “That looks nice,” He praised after turning a little and taking a proper look around. He wondered if the room he had slept in had looked so sparse because it had been kind of a guest room or if it was Taes room and the other just didn’t care to make it cozy. He turned back to Jin who was inspecting him from head to toe in a way that made Jungkook a little wary. “What? Those are Tae’s clothes, I know, but he lend them to me,” He said, after Jin didn’t break his gaze and instead seemed to contemplate something. Jungkook turned back to Tae who was looking at him as if he knew more than he let on and would just wait for Jungkook to figure it out too, “Well, does any of you want to tell me what I’m here for now? I’m pretty sure Jin didn’t just wanted to show me how nice and comfortable his room is.”

While Jin was turning on his heel, gathering everything he needed for his task, Taehyung stepped in front of Jungkook. Taking his hand in his own, he took a deep breath.

“Okay, listen,” Taehyung said and let his professional demeanor take over, “Do you remember when I told you that “he” will like you? When I say “he” I meant Shownu.” Grabbing each arm, Taehyung pulled Jungkook towards him and maneuvered him over to a little platform that was placed in the middle of the room to sit down on. “He owns the south part of town. He… he’s a force to be reckoned with. That’s why we need him gone – which will be my part,” Taehyung explained and stopped to make sure Jungkook was still following him. Biting his lip, Taehyung feared the next part and carefully got down onto his knees right in front of Jungkook to look into his eyes. He wanted him to know that he was telling the truth and that he needed to trust him now – even if trusting a gang member was not on the to do list of an average person. Till here it had been pretty easy to follow for Jungkook - but when Tae got onto his knee, half looking as if he was proposing to him, Jungkook’s inner alarm bell started to ring. “Please believe me, when I say that I did not know what I was thinking. This is still very dangerous… and I hope you can forgive me. I just saw the chance and took it,” Taehyung’s voice broke a little, “I never thought you’d follow along, it was a stupid thought and and… I took you with me as bait. For him.” “Bait?” He knew what a bait was thank you very much, but how could he be of use to lure in a drug dealer slash smuggler? He wasn’t a package of cocaine nor did he look rich enough to pretend to be a customer. “Oh, so you want me to pretend that I’m an addict looking for drugs and then… ask for him in person?” He furrowed his brows cause it didn’t make any sense at all. Why would the head of a gang even talk to him, “I don’t really get it to be honest.”

“No, no one would let you in, if you tried it this way,” Taehyung explained further, “He likes gambling. A lot. Always being in this casino, playing with money, drugs and… boys.” Taehyung could feel Jin behind him and it made him feel a little uncomfortable to know the other was listening to everything they said – but what choice did he have. “I need you to be his lucky charm, to lure him in and get him into his private room,” He coughed lightly, the lump in his throat making it hard for him to speak, “I need you to pretend to be an escort. A call boy, for that matter. He has a thing for innocent looking boys like you.” It was quiet for a second while Jungkook stared at Tae like the other had switched to chinese during his explanation. His lips were parted in a perfectly stunned and bunny like expression before he closed his mouth and cleared his throat. “I see. Do you want me to… I won’t sleep with him, just so you know and he won’t see me naked - or anything like that. If we can agree on that then I guess I can work with that,” Despite his casual talk he could feel the rush of adrenalin already. He was not only supposed to sneak into a casino to pretend to be an escort while taking part in some killer commando of the hostile gang. He was also supposed to get close to the head of the southern gang and seduce him, enough so that the other would want to be alone with him. Which meant that if anything went wrong or if the other gang found out he was very certainly fucked. Maybe even literally. Jungkook tried to not let it show as his breathing quickened and he willed his hands to stay relaxed instead of balling into fists. “Okay, then.. how do we start this? I guess i’ll get a debriefing? Stuff about the casino, that gang leader, how to act, what to say and... and...” Holy shit, he was actually doing this!

“Wait? You… you want to do this?” Taehyung watched Jungkook’s determined facial expression, the same that he saw the moment he sat down next to him in the car only a few days ago. Taehyung froze for a second as relief washed through him. He didn't think. He simply reacted. Grabbing Jungkook by the shoulders, he dragged him against him and kissed him. “You’re stupid for doing this, I hope you know that?” He said a bit breathless against the other’s lip, “I…I’ll keep you safe.” He kissed him passionately in the middle of Jin’s room, hovering over the younger one not wanting to be separated from him for a second longer, but unfortunately Jin was already tapping his feet impatiently onto the floor.

“I’ll do whatever will help you getting the job done,” Jungkook answered without hesitation and with complete honesty. The sudden kiss had him stiffening in the other’s hold but only until he realized what Tae was doing to him. He leaned into the others touch naturally, forgotten where they were and who was watching - until an irritated Jin started tapping his foot to get their attention. Tae didn’t stop right away and therefore Jungkook didn’t either, happy for every chance he had to share kisses with Tae, but he was blushing a little, cheekbones dusted pink under Jin’s scrutinizing glare.

He didn't really need Tae’s verbal assurance that the other would keep him safe because the kiss had told him that much. He was safe with Tae. Safer than anywhere else.

“Can I get to work now?” Jin asked and pushed Taehyung aside, to help Jungkook up on his feet, forcing him to stand on the little platform that was placed in the middle of the room, “We will suit you up first, kiddo.” Jin had no problem crashing the romantic mood and barging in on them right away. Being called “kiddo” when Tae was barely older than him was strange but he had gotten used to it so he did what Jin asked of him and let the other measer his shoulder width and his waist to chest ratio and the girth of whatever else Jin had on his little list. All while having a little smile playing around his lips. Because he could still feel Tae’s touch on them.

After each measuring Jin chuckled to himself and shook his head, as if pleased. He measured the length of his arm, then his legs, first from inside his thighs to the ground, then from the waist down and even measured his neck and thin wrists. At first Taehyung watched Jin closely, just to make sure that Jungkook wasn’t feeling uncomfortable in any way. After a while though he averted his gaze and looked outside of the window as if he was contemplating something, getting lost in his thoughts again. He was preparing ahead, his mind spiraling with all the ways this could go wrong or right. He needed to prepare Jungkook right.

Jin ordered Jungkook to try out some tailored suit pants, pushing him behind a little room divider. He clapped in his hands happily, when he stepped out again and began sticking needles everywhere he needed them, humming quietly to himself. “What’s your favorite color, kid?” Jin asked as he stood in front of his closet again, tapping his chin with one hand while the other was flowing over some neckties (probably very expensive one’s). Just then the door burst open and Hoseok came in, smiling brighter than the sun. He playfully winked at Jungkook and complimented the younger one’s butt and how it looked in his suit pants, before he walked over to Taehyung (who glared devilishly at the comment of his older member).

Jin was a professional and so albeit he had to touch him here and there he never felt like it was getting too close. He also didn’t make any comments - unlike Hoseok who came in and started complimenting his butt. The other was so honest about it that Jungkook just blushed and stuttered out a quiet ‘thank you’. He wasn’t getting any closer to figuring the other out.

When Tae left the room, Jungkook held himself a bit closer to Jin while Hoseok roamed the room, suggesting some accessories for Jin to use and Jungkook while smiling his blinding smile. He was warily looking after them when Tae called Hoseok out, and both vanished, to do whatever the hell they were doing. “Is he involved with this as well? Or does he have a day off after he finished his own job this morning?” He asked Jin only daring to do so because the older seemed happy and relaxed (and wasn’t holding any needles right now). Jin didn’t look up, as he turned Jungkook by his waist to proceed to look at the backside of the suit, before he answered. “Sure, we all are involved in it, in some ways,” He explained and patted his thigh, as a sign of being done with the pants, “Can you please take off your shirt now?” This time Jin brought various of expensive looking dress shirts, all white and some of them looking so soft, that Jungkook had to fight the urge to touch them right away. Jungkook let Jin handle him how he wanted, feeling like the main character in some shojo manga where he suddenly turned rich. Only that all of those expensive clothes wasn’t supposed to make him look like a prince - but like an escort. Or escort with extra services or however the boys at the casino where called who did more than just accompany the players as a lucky charm.

“Yoongi is observing and tracking down Shownu at the moment, while I make sure you look like a toy, he would like to play with,” Jin winked playfully, ”Tell me, kid, do you even know how to flirt properly?” He gave Jin a playfully offended glare. “What do you think, hm? You think I got a body like this and don't know how to use it? I sneaked my way into the heart of a cold-blooded mafia serial killer just within a few days, didn’t I?” He wiggled his brows, dropping the act quickly right after to make sure that he wasn’t serious. “I think I could use some practise, just to get “in character” and to soothe my nerves. But I’d rather do that with Tae please. Also if the way he acted when he was jealous is any indication on how he would react if he saw me trying to seduce you, then I guess we both don’t want that, for our own safety.” “Did you really?” Jin questioned quietly but bit his tongue right after and helped Jungkook to put on his shirt. He knew about the fact, that Namjoon wanted Jungkook to be gone after all of this and it wouldn’t be the first time Taehyung had played his part well to get what he wanted – but who was he to judge. He didn’t want to ruin Jungkook’s little dreams. Maybe he was wrong after all...

The older member nodded and took a few steps back, to look Jungkook up and down. “Hm, you know what?” Jin said and tapped his chin, “I think you should wear it without a suit jacket. It brings out your chest quite nicely.” He grinned brightly as he pulled Jungkook down the platform and over to the full-length mirror to look at himself. Jin was still blocking the view a little, fumbling around with Jungkook’s hair, talking about curling it up a little before he stepped aside. “Oh, yeah, I like this one,” Jungkook fiddled with his sleeves a little before realizing that this wasn’t “seductive” at all, just giving away how nervous he was. So he dropped his hands by his sides and took a deep breath. With the right posture the shirt gave just enough hints about the way his body was built that whoever had a taste for boys like him would definitely get curious. He just needed to draw attention to his hips or butt, maybe while leaning over a casino table and if that didn’t make his target notice him then he didn’t know what else would. “Yeah, I think that’s it. Do you think I can keep it on for a little longer? Just to get used to it?” And also, maybe to see how Tae would react to seeing him in something like this. Something so soft and silky, innocently white and sinfully seductive at the same time. “Sure, just don’t get any wrinkles into the shirt,” Jin chuckled, visibly proud about his work, “And be careful with the few needles on the bottom of your pants, I still need to do some little changes later.” With that Jin left to get himself something to drink and to give Jungkook the time to look at himself in the mirror for a while. The pants suited him perfectly, showing off his thigh muscles without being too tight.

The door swung open again and Taehyung raked his fingers through his hair, his brows furrowed deep in thought. He stopped right away, when his eyes landed on Jungkook and his eyes lit up in an instant. Nodding appreciatively Taehyung eyed Jungkook in his new outfit. Taehyung wasn’t the best with giving compliments, nor could he even sum it up into words how amazing the younger one was looking – so he only choked out a little “looks great”, wanting to punch himself in the face right after for that stupid comment.

Jungkook smirked when he saw how much it was throwing Tae off balance to see him dressed up like this. “Hm, you think so?”, He answered, sounding unconvinced on purpose. “Don't you think I need something that, I don’t know, is a bit tighter here?” He pulled at the shirt so it showed off even more of his muscles, making him look like some silk wrapped delicacy. “Or maybe something that shows off my butt a little bit more?” He let go of the shirt to place his hands on his waist and then stroke all the way down over his hips back to his ass, making a little show for Tae. “I’m not sure if he wants me like this. I should be a believably boy toy, shouldn’t I? Maybe I should make it a bit more obvious what he can use me for,” Jungkook slowly started unbuttoning his shirt, stopping after a few buttons to lick his lips and fixate Tae with a sultry look through the mirror. “I want him to think about what he wants to do to me the second he sees me. Hm, help me a little with this. Would this make you want me? Or do you think i have to put in a little more effort?” He bit his bottom lip, turning around to face Tae while giving him the perfect mixture of innocent and willing.

“No, you’re fine,” Taehyung gulped hard, “Really, you look… perfect.” The way Jungkook was trying to seduce him, did things to him that he didn’t want to admit. He had to hold himself back. Keeping his thoughts in place and bury the need to push Jungkook up the wall and kiss him senseless deep down. Instead he kept his unbothered demeanor and kissed Jungkook cheek lightly. Walking over to the little armchair at the window, he sat down again, crossing his legs a little as he watched Jungkook closely.

Jungkook froze for a second when Tae gave him a friendly little kiss on the cheek and then walked away as if he had other things to do. He was really close to throwing something at Tae offendly and whining about how the other should notice him at least when he was putting on a show for him like that but the competitive side in him was stronger. He wanted to get Tae’s attention on him in a more flattering way, one that wouldn't hurt his pride. If he wanted Tae to see his sexy side then he would manage to do that.

“He will absolutely adore you,” Taehyung said, fiddling with his watch to ease the tingling tension. Jungkook turned away from the older as if he wasn‘t ready to pout and casually started opening his shirt, letting it slip off his shoulders in one smooth motion. „Hm, still I think I‘ll try on one of the others again,“ He reached out for one of the shirts that he had tried on before and therefore knew that it would be a little too tight and then turned to give Tae a full view of his naked chest while he put on the smaller shirt. It was a button up as well and he barely got the buttons to close. „Ah, damnit,” He played his part perfectly, cursing a little under his breath before looking up at Tae. „I think I need a little help with this one. Could you please button the shirt while I pull it together?“ Without waiting for Taes response he came over, so close that Tae had to look up at him and then opened his legs a little, moving further until he was right in Tae‘s personal space, thighs left and right of Taes legs and his naked chest pretty close to Tae‘s face. „Here, if I hold it like this maybe it will fit.“ He pulled the edges of the shirt together, only showing a sliver of skin between them.

“You’re not going to wear this,” Taehyung’s hands wrapped around Jungkook’s thighs to hold him in place. Jealousy seethed inside him and it was so bitter that Taehyung could almost taste it on his tongue. His lips parting as he fought to resist Jungkook, but his hands were moving on their own. They settled on the waist, as he licked his lips slowly, his eyes focused on Jungkook who was still nagging him to help. “Let me do that,” Taehyung said in a dangerous tone of voice, pushing Jungkook a little back, to get up and hover over him. Too fast for Jungkook to realize what Tae was doing, the other gripped the collar and ripped the shirt open, his mouth attacking Jungkook’s neck right away, his hand roaming his chest. He was careful not to leave any marks or bites, but rather soft but prominent kisses – all while holding Jungkook against his own body tight before pulling back again. “I still like the other shirt more,” He said confidently and sat back down right after, as if nothing had happened.

Jungkook still underestimated how quick Taehyung could act and so the other was on him within a second. Jungkook would lie if he said that he didn’t get a thrill from the way Tae had just ripped the shirt back open, attacking his neck as if he was ready to devour him - just to nip him so gently that it had Jungkook aching with want. Before he could do anything of his own though Taehyung let go of him and sat back down, as if he had just looked outside for the weather or something similarly mundane. Jungkook huffed and put the damaged shirt aside. “I would really prefer it if you told Jin why there’s a damaged shirt in his collection now. I don’t want to end up being murdered over a shirt, please.” He carefully got out if the pants to not lose any pins, giving up on trying to be seductive and instead just going for the clothes that Tae had lend him. “If Shownu is as unfazed as you then i probably will have to strip to get his attention after all.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed as Jungkook talked about stripping. He could still feel the jealousy inside him, but it was more subdued now, more of a slow-burning kind of agitation. That’s why he tried to shake off the feeling differently, walking past Jungkook. “I’d prefer you naked anyways,” He joked, turning to walk out of Jin’s closet before Jungkook could say something - which was better anyways because the younger almost choked because of his comment.

Jungkook was still looking dumbfounded, when a little whistle from Taehyung made him snap out it and he quickly followed the older boy. “How are you feeling, though?” Taehyung asked carefully, pointing to the left, so Jungkook knew where they were going next, “If you need anything, want to know something more – just ask okay? I want you to feel safe, do you understand?” “I’m good actually. I didn’t expect your life being so... so nice with the others around. But I guess I only feel that way because I haven’t seen the cruel part of the game.” He chewed on his bottom lip a little before he decided to get himself together and give it a try. “However I do have a question. When you kill … or the others … so the gang in generally - are there any rules? I mean would you just kill whoever Namjoon told you to even though that person was innocent? Do you kill whoever gets in your way no matter that person’s age or family? Or do you make sure that no one outside of this business gets hurt if it isn’t absolutely unavoidable?” “Technically yes, we don’t care who the person is, but also no,” Taehyung answered honestly, “We do make sure that no one gets hurt that is innocent and we check thoroughly before if they really harmed us on purpose or not. We’re not killing machines.” He reached out to cup Jungkook’s cheek softly, before he placed another kiss on his lips. Taehyung really could get used to it. “Now, I know you don’t like Hoseok too much – I’ve seen your expression, but he’s a good teacher. Trust me. He will teach you how to fight properly - not like I did,” Jungkook’s eyes widened in panic but Taehyung quickly spoke up again, “He won’t harm you. We need you unharmed and without any bruises and I’ll be there right next to you. Always.”

Over the next few days, Taehyung was making sure that Jungkook was learning how to defend himself properly. There was no way he would let him go and seduce a killer, before he didn’t know how to defend himself as much as he could. What if Taehyung wasn’t fast enough? Sometimes, in a life or death situation, it was the seconds that mattered where you kept yourself protected and alive. When Jungkook wasn’t learning how to fight, Taehyung was teaching him everything he needed to know about Shownu and his preferences, as well as making sure Jungkook knew the building inside and out. To take it even a step further, Hoseok planned surprise attacks on Jungkook. One time, he threw himself onto the younger one from behind, the other time, he had tested Jungkook’s agility while throwing a half-eaten apple after him, when he wasn’t suspecting anything. Even Namjoon came in to watch Jungkook train one day, observing him carefully just as Hoseok landed on his back, making the younger boy cheer as he had just won against him. Taehyung laughed at his childish happiness, feeling content with the way Jungkook was evolving. It made him feel safe. A glimpse of hope sparked in his eyes, that maybe this time everything would be all right.

The best part of it all was, that Jungkook could fall asleep next to Taehyung at night. His warm body next to his, his arm wrapped around his waist was making him feel safer than he ever did. Taehyung was playing with Jungkook’s hair, while he listened to him ranting about some former coworkers. “Do you even realize that they will probably fire you? You’re already gone for several weeks, without any trace or whatever,” Taehyung chuckled.

“Well I do know how to use a phone, Tae. I called in sick right at the beginning,” He teased him back with a little pout - because Tae might still be right after all. He had never been absent for so long and this would probably get him fired sooner or later - but to be honest he didn’t care as much as he had thought he would. He would get by if he could put his stuff somewhere, maybe in some storage hall, pay the rent there with a few side jobs, maybe if he was useful enough Namjoon would even pay him. And apart from that … he could spend his time with Tae and the gang. They had become a constant presence that kept him positively on edge and made him feel alive again. During no time of the day was he wondering what the hell he was doing this for as he had constantly done in his life before. He was just content to live life as it came, being present, doing what he wanted to without thinking about the future or consequences. During those two weeks he had felt more free than he ever had before. Free - and safe. By Taehyung's side.

Taehyung pushed Jungkook around to hover over him, stealing one or two kisses quickly. His body was trapping Jungkook, his hands tightly wrapped around his wrists and pinned over Jungkook’s head. He was searching Jungkook’s eyes, before he kissed him deep, pouring in all the love that he felt for the other. Taehyung still wasn’t able to wrap his mind around how Jungkook made him fall so deep in the first place. He had almost forgotten what Namjoon had asked of him. His thoughts too cloudy to focus properly on anything else but Jungkook. His body felt weightless everytime, his mind a dark void except for the sensations Jungkook’s hands and mouth and lips evoked. Letting go of Jungkook, one hand sneaked underneath his shirt, smoothing over his skin as he explored every inch of him. “You’re beautiful,” Tae murmured, his voice insistent. Husky. Feeling Jungkook’s skin beneath Taehyung’s fingers and hands, he could not bring himself to stop touching him. He could feel the younger boys body respond to his caresses. Jungkook slipped his fingers inside his shirt, reveling in Tae’s gruff moan when he caressed his muscled abs. He couldn’t get enough of him. Taehyung’s skin was warm, his muscles hard beneath. He could feel his strength and power under his fingertips and his soft, dark hair tickling him, whenever he kissed the nape of his neck. Jungkook let out a soft little sigh at the heated way Tae was handling him, arching into his caresses, hungry for more. Tae had made him addicted to the way he was focusing solely on him when they were making out, his kisses a sweet poison he couldn’t get enough of.

Suddenly the door was bursting open with a loud bang and Yoongi came rushing in, closely followed by Jin. Taehyung was quick and on his feet in a second and even though Jungkook had learned a lot, it still took him a little longer to react – especially with being kissed senseless only seconds before. The ruffled shirt and tousled state he was in gave away more than Jungkook would have liked but the other two gang members didn’t even spare him a second glance before dropping the bomb.“He’s back in town,” Yoongi murmured breathlessly from running and Taehyung’s whole demeanor changed in an instant, his whole body growing stiff. He could feel Jungkook move behind him and had the urge to protect him right away already, keeping him close behind his own body. “We will be out in a second,” He nodded towards the both and Jin laid down the suit he had tailored for Jungkook neatly on the chair, before following Yoongi back out, waiting for further instructions.

Merely seconds ago he had been all over the clouds with Tae and now he had to gather everything he had been told and trained in to do his task. He didn’t want to turn back now, not in the slightest. But he felt as if someone had stopped time for a little just to make it rush forward faster as soon as Yoongi and Jin were gone, leaving only him and Tae alone in the room. With his “undercover uniform” on the bed reminding him what he was about to do. Taehyung rolled his shoulder back, a million thoughts on his mind as he opened his closet. He was getting out his favorite pair of black jeans and paired them with a simple black dress shirt, that fitted tight on his body. It was quiet in the room, only the rustle of clothes being changed audible. Following his lead, Jungkook quietly put on his suit, jerking a little when Taehyung was suddenly in front of him, fixing the younger one’s collar. “You sure, you want to do this?” Taehyung asked, gazing into Jungkook’s eyes.

“Yes, I am! I’m not gonna change my mind and I’m not gonna panic. Don’t worry. You can focus on your part in this and i’ll do mine as we rehearsed it. We’ll be fine.” Jungkook pushed all of his anxiety into the back of his mind where no one would be able to find it, not even him. It was crucial that neither Tae nor anyone else of the gang would sense that he was nervous so that they didn’t think he would chicken out or saw him as a liability. Also in the casino he should play the role of someone relaxed and used to talking to dangerous, powerful people, so he wasn’t allowed to show anything else but casual interest and well delivered seduction. That’s what he was supposed to focus on.

Tae’s professional demeanor had completely taken over when he gripped Jungkook’s hand a little too tight and pulled him along. He was nervous, he couldn’t deny that. Following Yoongi and Jin, they stayed close as they made their way downstairs. At the end of the staircase stood Namjoon and a confident smirk planted itself on his face when he saw Taehyung. He patted his young member’s back and Taehyung let go of Jungkook. Namjoon single-mindedly walked ahead to a door right underneath the staircase, that Jungkook never had seen before. It had the same color as the wood from the stairs, no door handle so it was easily overseen. Reassuringly Jin’s hand found Jungkook’s shoulder, as the other hesitated a little.

The others must have gone through that door often enough to not show any kind of surprise and Jungkook followed them suit, masking his emotions just like Tae was doing. It was nice to know that the others had started caring for him a little too and Jins hand was a warm and gratefully accepted presence on his shoulder. Namjoon walked further down a staircase that was spiralling down in a tight curve while the others followed, with Jungkook and Jin at the back. There were three doors at the end of it and when Namjoon opened the first he could catch a glimpse of a range of gunmetal black guns that were hung up on the wall closely together. Jin held him back when he was about to follow Tae into that room, shaking his head lightly as a sign that he wasn’t allowed in there. “We have other things to do, kid. I’m gonna doll you up a little. The men at the casino won’t be able to keep their eyes off you,” He gave him a wink and then ushered him into the room that was behind door number three which was full of the most bizarre and random little things. Jin pushed Jungkook down onto a little chair, before he was already on and all about Jungkook’s hair to make it curly and fluffier. “Sometimes I feel like I am doing the wrong job,” Jin murmured as he put another one of Jungkook’s strands carefully around the curling iron. He noticed that Jungkook was a little more reserved than normally, probably because he was nervous, so he was mostly the one who was doing the talking. “Beautiful,” He mumbled when he was finished and walked around Jungkook, putting a finger under his chin to lift his face up. “Do you feel nervous, kid?” He asked while putting some concealer underneath Jungkook’s eyes, “Your first undercover mission, isn’t that exciting? And after that you can go back to your life and can say you had a real-life adventure. Just like you see it in the movies all the time. I wish I could go on and off like that. You’re pretty lucky that you stumbled upon Tae in the train, huh.”

“Yeah, I was. I would have preferred it to be less bloody, but you know, I take what I can get” He answered, purposely ignoring Jin’s hint that he was supposed to go home after this and pretend he had never met them. He knew that this was exactly what Namjoon wanted him to do. But he wouldn’t give up on Tae that easily. They weren’t exactly boyfriends or anything but there was still ‘something’ between them. And he just hoped that Tae thought the same thing - because till now both of them had avoided to talk about that topic in detail.

The sounds of clicking guns were audible in the room right next to them as everyone else of the gang was preparing themselves. Taehyung walked over to the safe. He dialed the combination, opened the door and took out his gun. Raising it, the gun clicked and the slide locked open. Taehyung refilled the gun with enough ammunition. This was his favorite handgun, which had a silencer specially designed by Yoongi to fit it. He pushed it down into his holster and furrowed his eyebrows as he watched the others finish setting up, “We good?”

Jungkook waited until Jin had given his okay and tried to suppress the urge to lick his lips because Jin had applied some lip balm that he didn't want to ruin. Then he was ready to go and to join the others who were already waiting for him at the end of the stairs. Taehyung’s whole-body language changed completely. He was a hitman now, even when Jungkook had met him – he never was in his whole persona, that was meant to kill. Somehow it was difficult for Taehyung to approach Jungkook with this mindset. He didn’t want the younger to think that he was crazy and out of his mind. Or maybe just cold hearted. He bit his lip, before he spoke up, “Okay. We go with two cars. Namjoon, Jimin and Yoongi take the first. Yoongi will check into the hotel room, while the other two wait in the car until its safe as he knows your faces already. Everything will go as we planned!”

Namjoon nodded, before he explained their strategy again. Everyone was listening closely, ready to do whatever to make this mission succeed. “Jungkook, you come with us,” Taehyung finally said and reached out his hand for him to grab, “I want this to go smoothly and without anyone killed besides Shownu himself.”

Jungkook didn’t need Tae to spell it out for him that even though the had become a lot closer over the past weeks now wasn't the time to rely on that. This was Tae’s job and each and every thought that wasn't on him finishing his task could cost him literally his life. The best Jungkook could do to help him right now was to stay concentrated, play his part and stay away from anything that could throw Tae off balance including anything intimate like kissing him or even smiling at him the way he knew made Taehyung smile back at him. They were all a link in a chain that Namjoon had forged and if they all did their part then everything would go as smoothly as expected and the night would end up with one dead person and a whole empire destroyed. In his attempt to not focus on Tae he missed that the other was reaching out for his hand so he went past him without even acknowledging it.

On one side Taehyung was proud that the other was so focused on his task, that he didn’t want to endanger anyone with being emotional (just like he told him), on the other hand, Taehyung had gotten so used to Jungkook’s reassuring aura that he felt a tad disappointed – but he moved on nonetheless. He had bigger things on his mind right now. Walking ahead, he checked his gun again, clicking it open and putting the safety back on. He let Jin drive, while he was on the passenger seat, eyes closed and mind focused. Meanwhile Hoseok was sitting next to Jungkook, stretching the gum he was chewing from his mouth to his finger and twirling it around in boredom. When he felt Jungkook’s judging stare on him, he smiled sweetly and winked – not really caring if the other found it gross or not. “The least you could have do is offer me one,” Jungkook told him sweetly while leaning forward to give the other a nice little smile. He was already getting into his role because it eased the stress a little and he also found it easier to interact with Hobi like that because they had done it a lot over the last few days and he had gotten used to it. He was thrilled to see the other ‘in action’ (not the killing part of course but all the rest) because he had realized that the more sides he knew of them the more he liked them. From the ‘coming home with blood on their clothes’ over ‘cleaning their guns next to the dinner table’ to ‘play fighting in the kitchen with a butcher’s knife’ - Jungkook had seen a lot. And it was both crazy and reassuring that things that would have completely frightened him three weeks ago were now merely an interesting occurance to him that he found joy in observing.

Jin drove fast but Taehyung didn’t mind. It felt like they flew along the road in a fluid flight. The car responding to the slightest touch of Jin’s as if all he had to do was to think a command and it followed his bidding, like machine and man were one. Though all of them liked the recklessness, Taehyung knew that Jungkook was not used to it, so he quietly gesticulated for Jin to slow down a little. He didn’t want him to be even more shaken up than he already was. The drive downtown was quiet, everyone deep in thought and focused on what was about to happen tonight. Taehyung’s mouth twisted into a grimace as he was gazing around, his brow set in stubborn lines, “There!” Jin followed Taehyung’s orders quick, coming to a halt a bit away from the Casino. You could still see the flashing lights emanating from the neon light system on the end of the street.

Getting out of his seat, Taehyung walked around and opened the door for Jungkook. Working like a well-oiled machine, Hoseok and Taehyung were both on Jungkook's side and moving quick into a dark corner between two houses that stood close by, while Jin drive off with spinning tires, spraying gravel and roaring engine.

Taehyung reached out for Jungkook, his hands wandering from his cheek down to his shoulders before he pulled him into a hug. “Please don’t do or say anything stupid, okay?” He whispered quietly, “Just do it like we told you. No know-it-all comments that could get you into danger, do you understand me?” Pulling off he gazed deep into Jungkook’s eyes, to look for any signs that he shouldn’t be letting him go right now. Everything inside of him screamed to not let him run into danger like this – but he knew this was his last chance. The only way of getting back to Shownu. The only weakness that the other had.

Jungkook’s heart had jumped a little when Tae hugged him like he wasn’t planning on letting him go, “I know what I’m doing Tae, Please stop worrying. I might not be able to shoot someone like you do or fight someone with my bare hands the way Hobi can but I can play my role perfectly. You’ll see, Shownu will fall for me just like you planned it. You said I am his type and he always takes one of the boys up into a room. So the only thing I have to do is make sure that he chooses me this time. You have to do the rest.”

“I promise you that I will take you out properly after all of this,” Taehyung showed a faint smile, when he felt Hoseok’s strong grip around his arm. “It’s time,” He said and nodded reassuringly towards Jungkook, before both of them turned and vanished in the dark. Jungkook wasn’t quite sure if Tae meant what he had said about taking him out, because they never really did anything remotely romantic, too caught up in the everyday life of the gang, but maybe this wasn’t merely to motivate him to do it right but something that Tae wanted to do himself and just didn’t have the courage to suggest before. Jungkook decided that he would take the positive energy that it gave him for now - and do the ‘relationship talk’ when all this was over. There was no time nor did he have the emotional capacities for this. He watched as Hobi took Tae with him, giving the other a court nod to show that he was ready as well and then left the alleyway with a confident stride. He stopped in front of the entrance and closed his eyes for a second, waiting until he felt like he had completely settled into the mindset he wanted before opening his eyes again, a cocky smirk on his lips. He was a callboy now, a luxurious, confident and seductive version of the casino boys who found joy in twisting rich and dangerous men around their little fingers.

To avoid the front entrance and being seen by someone from Shownu’s gang, Taehyung and Hoseok walked towards the back entrance, through the basement service entrance of the Casino and through the kitchen, sneaking in through the maid’s stairway that was hidden from the normal tourists and was only used by the maids to quickly get up and down. Then they made their way to a hotel room that they had covered. Yoongi was already inside, installing all kinds of technology to his laptop, typing fast onto his keyboard until the images of the security cameras of the lobby were popping up. Taehyung’s eyes flew over the screen, looking out to see Shownu and hopefully Jungkook soon appearing on the screen. His hand held onto his gun as if he was prepared to jump in any second, though nothing had happened yet. It gave him a sense of safety. He was in control. The casino was filled with all kinds of interesting people and you could hear coins clattering into bins as people hit jackpots. Letting his gaze wander, Taehyung finally found who he was looking for…

Shownu sat a Blackjack table, drinking – from what it looked like – a scotch, wearing a low-cut dress shirt, that was giving away how well his body was built, with nothing under the shirt except his honey tan. He was confident in his posture, always betting large bets to win even more money. He loved to gamble, it was almost an obsession. He had been a pretty good card player at one time, especially blackjack and poker. He didn't care for the slot machines, though, as he knew their odds were very much in the house's favor. Shownu sat at a remote corner table opposite the beautiful lady dealer and a kind faced gentleman, he felt giving off a pleasant aura,that he could take his money from. Shownu showed off a smile, pulling the girl next to him a little closer – his hand resting pn her thighs.

Of course Jungkook didn’t go straight for Shownu’s table. Instead he chose a more subtle way to make his presence known by the other. He knew that psychologically Shownu would be more interested in him when he wouldn’t be so easy to get. So if he wanted to give the impression that he was busy with customers and favoured by other powerful men he would need to find someone that Shownu would see as equal and flirt with that person. When Shownu would finally notice him Jungkook would react based on how the gang leader approached him. If he would show too much confidence then Shownu might think of him as too bratty, if he flirted too soon with him he could be seen as too easy for his liking and not enough of a challenge and if he didn’t flirt too much Shownu might think of him as too boring or wallflowery. It was a dance between borders but instead of cracking under the pressure Jungkook thrived with the challenge it gave him.

It didn’t take long for Shownu to get bored of the game. He won too easily against the other and sighed, when he downed his drink in one go. Just when he wanted to get up, a hand on his shoulder made him turn around. His cold demeanor quickly changed into a friendlier one – as friendly as it could get for a cold-hearted mafia boss. He was glad to see his man back and in one piece with a mission cleared and new money on his bank account. “A drink and a game to celebrate?” He asked in a cheerful tone, walking next to his closest confidante and friend. Just when he started walking ahead, two more men joined, walking close behind them, giving off a dangerous aura – making the other people in the casino step aside instantly.

“Fuck,” Hoseok hissed and moved in a little closer as he watched the security cameras on the laptop, “Is this Kihyun - shouldn’t he be gone? And I thought the bodyguards were only in front of his room? Didn’t you check, Yoongi?” Nodding his head with his brows tightly furrowed, Yoongi wasn’t able to explain why Shownu was now walking around with personal guards when he normally didn’t care at all in his own territory. Taehyung bit his lip, hoping that he could spot Jungkook soon – he was starting to feel uneasy.

Jungkook took his time with taking in the surroundings of the casino. Of course he had seen the inside and all the interior before in pictures but standing right in the middle of it was something entirely else. He felt a strange mixture of comfortable (because he had talked about this for so many weeks now that finally doing it was a relief) and excited. Tiny little sparks of nervous energy lit up his body whenever the part of his brain that was in charge of survival contemplated how many things could go wrong if only one single thing in their plan didn’t go as planned. For example Shownu suddenly getting company from two bulked up men dressed in black that were obviously part of his gang. There was another man who had walked up to Shownu with them, someone way less overdramatically muscle-packed. Nonetheless the way he held himself, his sleek elegance and quick reactions gave him away as another asset. He might not be as heavy but Jungkook would place a bet that he was just as deadly - if not even more so. He reminded Jungkook of those poisonous plants that had the most beautiful shapes, with delicate blossoms and pleasant colors, luring you closer until you had gotten into their deadly orbit without even realising it. The young man was similar in all aspects, the deadliness as well as his beauty. He had a skin so clear and flawless that Jungkook felt both envious and in awe for it and his lips looked really soft. Even his smile was beautiful. It had a natural charm to it that caught Jungkook’s eye the second the other showed it and apart from Shownu - who smiled a lot too but did it in an overconfident and smug way - the young man besides him showed an understated elegance that made him all the more stunning.

Getting themselves a drink, Shownu and Kihyun walked back to the play room, where the dice tables and roulette tables were all lined in a great oval inside the hall, like a ring of soft green felt, dull shining stacks of coins and gleaming roulette wheels that whirred with the sound of spinning ivory balls. Chips clicked, cards rifled, and roulette wheels rattled, spinning with promises of a richer tomorrow.

Just then Kihyun’s gaze wandered over to a young boy, out of the corner, that he had never seen here before. He was dressed quite delicate, with a white dress shirt, that was showing off his figure nicely, and it was making his mouth water in an instant. The boy was radiating youthfulness and his almost doe like eyes flickered over to him as he shot him a bright smile right away. “He must be one of the new boys,” Kihyun thought to himself and gave the other a playful wink, before he brought his attention back to Shownu. Jungkook held the man’s gaze for as long as he could, indicating that he was interested and free tonight. Still he waited a little longer to access the situation and make sure he hadn’t read anything wrong into it before making his first real move.

The two men sat down and faced each other one of the desks, congratulating themselves for a successful day. “This is much less harmful than our Russian roulette play that we used to do as kids,” Kihyun was joking. Memories of him thumbing the bullet into one of the six barrels, spinning it and listening to the metallic click-click-click, then pointing the gun at his own head and squeezing the trigger just once. You could say that both weren’t afraid of death. Never were and never would be. Shownu, with having played roulette, blackjack and other games for years, was so well versed with the dealer and casino procedure that he felt like he could step behind the roulette wheel and deal without missing a beat. His fingers were nimble and well trained through years of cutting, shuffling and reshuffling of chips placed in front of him. It was easy for him to play and Kihyun had to realize that he was about to lose a lot of money to his own boss.

Jungkook had never played in the casino before but he’s had enough lessons during those last weeks to tell that the beautiful one was losing right now. Which was his call. Because he could go over and test the waters a little bit without getting in too deep right away. As he walked over he made sure to hold himself up proudly as if showing off his body (his commodity so to speak) was totally what he was used to doing. When he approached the table he could see the guards next to Shownu pierce him with their gaze, hands being pushed into jackets and holsters to make use of their weapons before he could even get close to Shownu - but the gang leader wasn’t his aim and he spared neither him nor the guards any kind of glance. His attention was fully on Kihyun.

Jungkook batted his lashes in a shyly-coquettish way that showed easily that he was playing a game here and hopefully intrigued Kihyun enough to make him want to dig deeper to take a look under the layers of customer adjusted masks that Jungkook provided so freely. “May I offer my services?”, He asked, voice smooth as honey and smile perfectly in place. “It seems like you are desperately in need of it, sir.” He eyed the situation on the table with a pitiful look before turning back to Kihyun. “I can promise that you won’t regret it. I might charge a percentage of your win as my payment though.” He winked at him, half cutely, half underlying promise that he had to offer so much more that Kihyun could get if he was willing to share his casino prizes.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Kihyun turned his head towards Jungkook as soon as he noticed him approaching, “You want to be my lucky charm, huh?” Kihyun sneaked his arm around Jungkook’s waist quickly and pulled him closer to his side, with the other he reached for his cognac, downing it in one go – his way of accepting Jungkook’s offers. Kihyun was intrigued by Jungkook right away. He was different than the other escort boys he knew and something about him wanted Kihyun to ravage him wholly tonight. “Tell me then boy, what should we bet on?” He let his hand wander down Jungkook’s lower back and settled on his bottom firmly. Shownu cocked up an eyebrow, only now noticing that someone else had joined the table. As well as the others, the gang leader had never seen Jungkook before and it left him wondering. Jungkook had learned not to flinch whenever someone touched him inappropriately because it was vital for him to seem completely chill with it (Hoseok had happily offered to help, but Tae had glared at him so icy that even smiley Hoseok had pouted a little) therefore he didn’t show the slightest reaction to Kihyun letting his hand slide down to his ass. He was even leaning a bit more over the table, pretending to think about where they should place their bet, while giving the other even more to see and touch. “Hm…” He reached out, stretching all over the table as if he owned it, to place his hand on the desired spot. “Right here! But…” Jungkook turned around, ignoring Shownu again for the sake of flirting heavily with Kihyun, “I can’t promise that my lucky charm abilities will work right away! You know, I need to get closer to you. Get a feel for your...personality. That’s when my charms will work all in your favours.” He bit his bottom lip a little, playing with the tender flesh to draw Kihyun’s attention to it, “Are you down for that?”

Kihyun chuckled at the boys obvious attempts at flirting. He did it with such natural confidence and boyish charm that Kihyun could feel himself fall for it nonetheless - or maybe even especially because the other didn’t hide the fact that he wanted to be chosen by him for the night. There were certain rules for the other guest in the casino which was no taking the boys somewhere else than the playroom. But of course for Shownu and the gang those rules didn’t count and it had even become a habit of Shownu’s to take one of the boys up into his room whenever he was here. Kihyun himself had only done it once or twice but it had been a really nice occurence, so why not do it again tonight. The boy in front of him looked simply delicious and if he held the promises his eyes were making then Kihyun had no doubt that the night would be very pleasant for him.

Taehyung was so used to seeing Jungkook in oversized sweatshirts and ripped jeans, clothes that didn’t necessarily always flatter his figure, that everything about him now made his heart skip a beat and he felt the jealousy rise up when he saw him approaching Kihyun and staying so close to him. It was weird for him to feel like this and still something he didn’t quite understood. Taehyung almost suffered those surprising surges of jealousy each time. He had known Jungkook for a few weeks now and feeling proprietorial? Either he was crazy in love or just plain crazy. While he was trying to figure out his own mental stability, Namjoon and Jimin had found their way to the hotel room as well and stood close by, waiting and observing just like they all did. Everything was on Jungkook now.

Shownu’s low growl made everyone around the table look at him. Did he mention that he didn’t like to lose yet? Yeah – he really didn’t. Now, as he watched yet another pile of his chips being swept from the roulette table, the bitter taste of loss soured his mouth and a black cloud of despair hung low over his head. He was used to winning and that was he was planning to do tonight as well. Especially against his best friend – he wouldn’t let him get away with it and probably tease him for days, though he was his boss. He dredged up a smile, when he placed his pile of chips on a black square and glanced the way of the croupier to let him know he was ready. The croupier called for any more bets even when he would have known there would be none. One by one the other players had dropped out, content to watch or proceed to play somewhere else until there was only Kihyun and him left. With a well-rehearsed flick of one wrist, the croupier sent the wheel spinning, a flick of the other sending the ball hurtling in the opposite direction. This time he won. Though his luck didn’t last for long. His gut clenched as the ball spun and he could hear Kihyun laugh at the other end of the table. Shownu forced his smile to grow more nonchalant, his stance more relax. Everybody was watching the ball bounce and skip over the numbered pockets as the wheel slowed beneath but Shownu’s gaze flickered over to the young boy that sat comfortably on Kihyun’s lap. He indeed turned out to be his good luck charm. Did he mention that he also didn’t like it, when other people had more than him? He was even more determined now to make Kihyun lose and take away his coins, money and sweetest possessions.

Taehyung’s eyes met Jungkook’s figure as he was emerged in the roulette game and his breath got caught, when he saw the way Kihyun was touching Jungkook. “What the hell is that clown doing?” He grounded out between his teeth. “No idea, but our brunette beauty seems to like him,” Hoseok chuckled, “Keep it in check, man.” “I am. And I've got every right to worry about him,” Taehyung spit back, making the others chuckle. “Sure, if that was what you were doing. You’re so jealous you can’t even walk straight,” Yoongi said his gaze only tearing away from the screen for a second to grin at Taehyung. “And you should mind your own business,” He fired back and rolled his shoulders in a weak attempt to relax himself. “But your business is so much more entertaining,” Hoseok laughed but Namjoon’s raised hand made him stop in an instant. “Stop that!” Namjoon hissed and turned to look at Taehyung. Approaching him, he came to a halt right next to him and Taehyung closed his eyes in defeat. “You’re into deep again,” He whispered roughly, “Snap out of it!”

It was a blessing Jungkook didn‘t know what effects his demeanor had on Tae‘s mind and heart or else he would have been way more hesitant to go all out on Kihyun like he was doing. He had already prepared some little phrases and apologies in case Kihyun was losing despite him being there even though he was supposed to be his lucky charm. But to his – and Kihyun‘s – great joy the other actually seemed to have way more luck with him by his side. He didn‘t know if it was that it gave Kihyun confidence to have his obvious admiration on him or if it ticked Shownu off enough that he was getting unprecise with his bets or if the odds were simply in his favour. Whatever it was Jungkook was relieved and totally happy with the outcome. He could see the scene unfold in front of his eyes right as he had planned it. Kihyun was getting more touchy, starting to give him more attention than he was giving Shownu which angered the other visibly. And Shownu was getting more and more irritated by the second. He was losing, he was ignored, he was ridiculed. Now this could end two ways and Jungkook knew that he was playing with fire a little but this was completely dangerous anyway so he rather did it on his terms: the first way was Shownu trying to assert his dominance over Kihyun by taking Jungkook from him, demanding that Kihyun would play fair without any „lucky charm“. Then Jungkook could suggest to stay a little with Shownu, just for it to be fair of course. Right in Shownu’s personal space he could pull all the stunts he had pulled on Kihyun - and more, charming his way towards Shownu wanting to take him upstairs. The second way would be Shownu getting so angry that he would tell him to fuck off. Then Jungkook could tell him how absolutely sorry he was for annoying him and if he could maybe make it up to him in some way. If Shownu said yes then bingo, he was in. If Shownu said no, however...then he was completely fucked. He would have to face the others, apologize furiously to everyone who had spent weeks on his training and face Tae‘s utter disappointment. And Namjoons. Who would very certainly might want to rip him apart alive for ruining the only shot they had gotten in weeks. But there was no use in thinking about this now. He could still take actions if this actually happened. So he used his most charming smile, chuckling like a schoolboy when Kihyun pulled him in by the waist again and bared his neck for him when the other placed a little kiss on the nape of his neck. He was very, very thankful for Kihyun being touchy in a gentle way or else he wasn‘t sure if he could have played along that easily.

Shownu was losing it – quite literally and he hated every bit of it. He needed to step up his game, now that he only had a few chips left that were most definitely not enough to bet on for the next round and Kihyun knew it. He had to come up with something else, something that would make Kihyun want to give in to his offer. Shownu was mad that he hadn’t gotten this luck back. He was the leader, he was supposed to have the control here and the one disturbing factor was sitting right on his friend’s lap – so he needed to get rid of him. “Kihyun,” Shownu grunted, looking dead serious, making the other turn towards him. He knew better than to mess with him. “Last round! If you win now, I give you my hotel room for the night,” Shownu’s eyes glistened and a devilish smirk was planting itself on his face, “All night, food and drinks on my behalf and you can have my car – but if I win this round, I get the boy!” Grinning brightly Shownu knew he had Kihyun’s interest so he added quick, “But this time, the boy needs to step away from you. No foul play – just you and me!”

Jungkook’s eyes widened when he heard Shownu’s offer. He had not expected him to make an offer where he had absolutely no control of the outcome! Why on earth would he base how his night would be turning out on something as unpredictable as pure chance? He was frozen for a second because he didn’t knew how to react at first. Should he interfere? Could he even do that without pissing off the two gang members? Because as nice as it would be if Shownu won it would be a real mess if he would lose! If Kihyun would be in the hotel room instead of his leader then Shownu had to stay down at the casino which meant that there was no way that Namjoon could send his men in! And they couldn’t just kill Kihyun in his place! First because Shownu would be warned then and second because... he didn’t want Kihyun to die because of him! No matter what the other had done Jungkook didn’t want to have Kihyun’s blood on his hands. Because of his terrifying thoughts his grip on Kihyun tightened and the other chuckled, amused by what he thought was clinginess, “Don’t worry, boy. My lucky streak won’t break that easily. I’m gonna win this round and then I’ll take you upstairs. We’re gonna have an awesome night together, pretty.”

Shownu nodded, his smile secured in place when Kihyun accepted the offer. His gaze wandered over Jungkook’s, whose eyes were wide and fearful – everything that Shownu loved. Rolling his shoulders back, he nodded towards the croupier, who sent the ball flying off again. Shownu had studied Kihyun’s way of gaming the last thirty minutes closely, so he knew what he would have bet on and now all that he hoped that luck was on his side. Shownu was watching Jungkook closely, his eyes never leaving the boys as the other watched the ball bounce through the roulette. He already figured that he had a nervous habit of biting his lips and it was making him look even more intriguing. They all waited in impatient silence. Jungkook was on the edge the whole time the ball was in motion. This was nerve-wracking because it was his skin on the line. And probably Kihyuns life. because there was no way he would let the other have him. He was getting off of Kihyun’s lap to play by the rules that Shownu had set just in time for the ball to find it’s place. His knees were wobbly from the adrenalin when the croupier announced the winner. He only noticed how hard he had been biting down his bottom lip when he felt the sting of it.

“Black wins,” The croupier said out loud and pointed towards Shownu, who never once took his eyes from Jungkook. “Guess, in the end I always win,” Shownu said reaching out his hand to Jungkook, wanting to claim his prize, his cocky persona on full display.

It was odd to feel so relieved and repulsed at the same time. He internally thanked whatever had made Shownu win for their blessing - but he honestly didn’t want to go over to Shownu who looked at him as if he owned him - which technically he did now. But only until Tae would come and get him.

It suddenly hit Jungkook that he would be the last person that Shownu would see and he felt pity for the man who didn't have a clue that this would be his last night. After tonight his gang would be in pieces. He turned on instinct, giving Kihyun a little kiss on his cheek. “I’m sorry. Maybe next, time, ok?” He smiled at him one last time, hoping the other wouldn’t be in danger because of everything that would happen tonight. Then he walked over to Shownu, bowing his head sightly in submission. “I guess I’m yours now.”

“You sure are, baby boy,” Shownu smiled smugly and grabbed Jungkook’s wrist tight to keep him close. “I told you not to mess with me, Kihyun,” He exclaimed but the other just waved him off – it probably happened way too often that luck wasn’t on Kihyun’s side. Normal people would probably feel awful for taking Jungkook away from the other, since he was clearly interested in him and maybe Shownu should feel a little bad about it – but he shook it off easily. It was getting late and he wanted to claim his prize completely, as to tease Kihyun even more now that he knew that he would get to have the new boy first. “Tell me, baby boy,” Shownu asked walking ahead and guiding Jungkook out of the play room, “I’ve never seen you around, did Hyungwon brought you in? You must be one of the new ones.” The nickname that Shownu called him hit him more than the tight grip that closed around his wrist. “Baby boy,” Just like Tae was calling him when he found him particularly cute. He visibly flinched at hearing it out of Shownu’s mouth but luckily the other hadn’t noticed it - or simply did not care. Apparently Shownu was fed up with playing after almost having lost to one of his men and was trying to get some fun out of this night because he went out of the playroom really quickly. Jungkook hoped that Tae and the others were watching closely and were ready to attack even though it had been barely fifty minutes since he had set foot into the casino. Of course Jungkook knew the names of all the people who were involved with the procedure of finding suitable people for the casino and so he wasn’t thrown off balance when Shownu addressed him on their way to the stairs. Only by the nickname a little. He should really get a hold of himself or his feelings for Tae would shake him all the way up into messing up his part of the game. “Yes, I am one of them. I was better than the other boys he chose therefore I was allowed to have my “inauguration day” a bit earlier than them. No one has laid a finger on me yet,” He mentioned casually, as if he wasn’t just offering himself up like meat. His eyes nervously flickered over towards the bodyguards who stayed so close to them that Jungkook could have easily touched them. Hopefully they would withdraw as soon as they reached the top floor.

In the hotel room where Taehyung and the rest of the members were, was only silence. Everyone’s gaze was fixated on Jungkook and Shownu. “He really did it,” Hoseok whispered and leaned in a little more when Yoongi changed the security cameras so they could see them walk down the hallway. “Do not celebrate too early,” Namjoon said and put a hand on his shoulder, “The bodyguards are still close behind them.”

The stairs were covered in a thick, soft rug so that the sounds of their steps got completely swallowed. A little smirk played around Jungkook’s lips when he realized that this was the perfect condition to sneak up on someone unheard. No one would hear Tae’s gang coming.

Taehyung checked his gun again, putting it back into his holster and looked up at Hoseok. He was the only one who would join Taehyung, while the others would make sure everything else was safe and ready for them to run and hide as soon as it was over. Tae strolled up and down the hotel room, doing some random stretches in between, trying to mentally focus on what would happen next. He was just waiting for Yoongi’s “Go!” and then he and Hoseok would be running down the corridors to get Jungkook out of there. Closing his eyes, he suddenly felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You’re nervous?” Hoseok whispered just for him to hear and Tae nodded. “I don’t want him to get hurt,” Taehyung answered quietly. It was obvious to everyone that he was playing with fire again - and if you get too close to it, you would burn yourself - again.

Shownu didn’t listen much to what Jungkook said, rather focused on getting to his room. Getting out his hotel room key, he held it in front of Jungkook to show off the gold-plated card. The showing off didn’t end there, when Shownu opened the door for the younger boy and presented his luxurious room for him. Just when Jungkook walked in he turned and waved off his bodyguards, telling them, that he didn’t want to get disturb tonight. Shownu turned on his heel, watching Jungkook observe the big almost apartment-like hotel room. Licking his lips, he quickened his steps and pulled him in by his waist, his mouth right on Jungkook’s neck and his hand wandering up his chest to play with the buttons of Jungkook’s dress shirt. “All mine,” Shownu whispered against Jungkook’s soft skin, “I’ll be your first customer tonight, huh? I’ll pay you good, baby boy.”

Shownu was quicker on him than he had expected and the sudden pull left him gasping. He could feel Shownu’s mouth on his skin, hot and wet and he closed his eyes to calm himself down. His pulse quickened and he was sure that Shownu must feel it if he continued to kiss his neck like this. Hopefully he’d write it of as nervousness because of his “first time job”. “D...don’t take everything at once, please. Didn’t your mum teach you to be patient?,” he tried, shaking Shownu’s hands off of him with a laugh but it wasn’t that easy to make the other let go of him. Jungkook swallowed hard when he heard the guards shuffling around right outside the door. „Don‘t you want to tell them to leave? The doors aren’t exactly soundproof and I can get real loud sometimes,“ He suggested with a promising smile but Shownu just shook his head, more interested in undressing the boy than listening to him. Jungkook was getting more and more nervous because he knew it was crucial that the others came into the room completely unannounced. That‘s why Tae‘s gang had chosen this room of all places to attack! If there was someone right outside the door – especially if it was two armed and trained guards – it wouldn’t exactly be quiet to take them down. But Shownu was supposed to be occupied with him and completely unsuspecting; his attention – and weapons – elsewhere. So this was bad. Really bad.

Therefore Jungkook tried it again, getting close to Shownu on his own accord and placing his hand on his arm before leaning in to whisper seductively in his ear. „What if I want you all to myself? I‘d like to do things with you no one else is supposed to know about. What happens between us should stay private, shouldn’t it?“ Unfortunately his attempt missed its aim again. „Don‘t worry, they are my eyes and ears at any time. They won‘t say a single word about what happens inside of here. And you won‘t even notice that they are close.“ Jungkook nodded, defeated, not daring to make another attempt. Oh god, what if the others decided to blow this whole mission off, leaving him with Shownu tonight? He shuddered when he took a few steps back, trying his best to get back into his seductive persona but he could feel the fear rising like bile up from his stomach. Shownu only took it as an invite, pulling off his own shirt quickly, his gaze focused solely Jungkook. “Baby boy, are you scared?” Shownu pursed his lips acting a little offended, but a smug smile appeared right after. Jungkook was here to give him everything he wanted, so he would take it.

„Now strip,“ Shownu wasordering casually, watching him as he was getting to work with shaking fingers. Jungkook was trying to draw it out as much as possible, opening the first few buttons of his shirt so slowly that Shownu was huffing at him in annoyance, „You want me to help?“

“No, no, it‘s fine. I‘m just trying to heighten the anticipation a bit,“ He winked at Shownu but the other ignored it and got up, walking over until he was right in front of him. „You did that enough. I wanted to see what was under your clothes the moment you walked in on us,” Shownu’s lips found Jungkook’s quick, his hands exploring all of Jungkook’s body. Letting them caress down his shirt to his bottom, squeezing it while he moaned against the boy’s lips, before he pushed himself a little closer, grinding onto him. “You’re everything he wanted,” He whispered softly, “But I am going to have you first.” His grin was dirty and his movements too quick for Jungkook to realize what he was doing next. He took what little of his shirt Jungkook had unbuttoned already and ripped it open with the sound of tearing satin and falling buttons. Suddenly Jungkook felt all too exposed, Shownu’s hands feeling the soft skin of his now bare chest. Jungkook stood frozen for a second, his heart hammering wildly. When Shownu touched his naked skin he had to control himself hard not to flinch at the demanding touch. Instead of Kihyun who had treated him like (eye) candy that he deemed just as lovely within its colorful wrapping, Shownu obviously wanted to get down to the naughty part right away. He was a man that knew what he wanted and wasn‘t used to having to wait for it.

When Shownu’s hands were on his hips, trying to open his pants just as quickly Jungkook swatted his hands away cutely in an attempt to gain back a little bit of control while also not pissing Shownu off. „Let me, please. Otherwise you‘ll regret not having seen me strip for you. I‘m pretty good at it” he flirted, hoping and praying that Shownu would take the bait and let go of him - which he did.

Jungkook turned around because it gave him an opportunity to fix his face and keep his emotions better in check. Where was Tae and the others? What took them so long? They had promised to not let anything happen between Shownu and him. While his thoughts were racing he kept his role, stroking down his body seductively before swaying his hips. He was afraid that Shownu might take matters into his own hands again so he opened the button of his pants after a while, shimmying out of them while bending over like he had seen strippers do in films, presenting his ass like he wanted Shownu to own it. Inside, he was practically pacing by now, his thoughts saturated with panic. He just needed to remind himself that freaking out would just make it worse. And that Tae… he wouldn‘t just leave him here with Shownu. The others might but Tae … he had promised. He had promised to protect him. He needed to cling to that or else he would be lost.

A/N: We hope you liked it! ❤ Leave us a comment or a message, we love to read you guys thoughts on the story! Thank you!

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stylinsonlibrary · 6 years

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HISTORICAL AU FIC REC

50+ fics set in the past

A Word We've Only Heard (6k)

So, where are you headed?” Liam asked, not wanting to sit in awkward silence for their journey. It was twelve hours to Chicago, and that was far too long to sit and not chat with his fellow passenger in front of him.

“Chicago,” he answered, his blue eyes meeting Liam’s own. “It’s home. Been on the road for quite some time now, it’s the first time I’ll be able to sleep in my own bed in almost a month.”

Liam whistled. “You must be pretty excited.”

The man gave a soft smile, which made him look younger than Liam initially expected; he might even still be in his twenties. He wondered what kind of a life this man had led to look so tired until he smiled.

Or, it's 1951, Harry is the owner of a music shop, and Louis is a traveling salesman making his way back home.

I'm Ready to Fall, Love (9k)

Louis doesn't like Harry, except for the fact that he really does.

(Basically: A royal AU with Prince Harry and Stable Boy Louis.)

One Day You'll Say These Words (11k)

Growing up together in Yorkshire has led to a lifelong friendship between Louis Tomlinson, the future Marquess of Rotherham, and Harry Styles, the heir to a viscount. When Harry suddenly inherits his uncle’s title and estate much earlier than expected, Louis must watch his friend struggle under the weight of these new responsibilities, including searching for a wife with a dowry large enough to save his estate. However, sitting idly by as Harry looks for a bride brings some unexpected feelings to the surface.

A friends to lovers story set in the Regency era.

feel my heart beating (12k)

‘90s AU where Louis’ addicted to matchmaking and Harry’s just playing along.

lead me out on the moonlit floor (12k)

In all honesty, Harry was long forgotten, cast aside by a dimpled stranger and too much champagne. He was almost glad, now, that Harry hadn’t come, because he wouldn’t have met this stranger, this tall man who could make his heart flutter with a single glance.

Victorian!AU where Louis is a wealthy lord throwing a masquerade ball for his birthday and Harry is a toymaker who's only confident when he's wearing a mask.

Autumn at Fairbridge Hall (14k)

It is October 1817. Mr. Louis Tomlinson hosts an Autumn Ball and a Fox Hunting Party at his estate Fairbridge Hall, with the intention of finding suitable husbands for his younger sisters.

A Regency AU where Louis does not want to deal with marriage proposals, a stubborn sister and unwelcome guests. The only things he really wants is peace and quiet and..., the handsome Mr. Styles.

To Honor (14k)

Commander Styles leads his men to victory, but at what cost?

Manifest Destiny (15k)

Harry and Louis had fallen into bed together again that night, mouths greedy and hands needy. And now every time Louis stops at Fort Kearney, even if it’s weeks in between, he and Harry spend the night together. The nights are always filled with heat and passion, and it gives Louis something to think on fondly as he rides across the western territories carrying sacks of mail.

They’ve never talked about it, and they’ve never kissed. Louis doesn’t know if he wants either of those things to change, but he knows that his presence in Harry’s life is sporadic at best. Probably best to leave things be.

Or, Louis is a Pony Express rider and Harry runs a station along the trail.

Howls Like A Beast (You Flower, You Feast) (16k)

“You don’t love me,” Louis had said, utterly blasé as he callously fractured the heart of a Harry that was just barely eighteen.

“I do,” Harry had insisted pleadingly, green eyes already watering.

Louis had rolled his eyes, exasperated and flippant in the way only beautiful, young boys could be when faced with the affections of a baby prince. He had run his finger down Harry’s cheek then, had forced him to look into his eyes as he delivered the final blow.

“You’ll change your mind once you’ve seen more of the world,” Louis had teased, pressing a brutally delicate kiss onto Harry’s lovely, pure cheek. “Once you’ve been properly defiled.” He had whispered filthily, delighted by the gasp he heard, the frantic pink blush that had rested high on Harry’s cheeks, the power he had felt at knowing he could make the Crown Prince squirm.

Break Me Down, Build Me Up (16k)

America, as it’s been told, is the world of riches. Men and women alike can come to the land of the free and achieve the American dream, regardless of their background. He wanted nothing more than to create a better life for his sisters, for himself, and perhaps for his future. Harry Styles was never a part of the plan.

[or: Louis moves his family to America to try and find a better life. Harry finds him instead.]

The Man I Love (17k)

It's the Roaring Twenties, a time of blissful prosperity, overflowing champagne flutes, adrenaline-filled dancing, and the rise of the Jazz Age—and Louis Tomlinson absolutely abhors it all. A stickler for modest classics, jazz is the bane of Louis' existence.

Coincidentally, Harry Styles is the bass player for an underground jazz band.

Or The 1920s AU where Louis is a hardworking, no nonsense paralegal, Harry is in love with the greatest city on earth, Zayn is the enigmatic leader of the band, Niall's just there to make sure everyone's having a good time, and Liam is the barber who started it all.

The People's Playground (17k)

It is 1900 in New York City, and Harry Styles has recently immigrated to America from England. His sister encourages him to take a day off from his life as a factory worker and Harry decides to take a trip to the infamous Coney Island where he literally runs into Louis Tomlinson. It looks like Coney Island will be more than Harry bargained for.

Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart (19k)

Louis and Harry had been childhood best friends, but had been separated by evacuation as the city they grew up in was destroyed around them. Now, twelve years later, they are both back in London, and through chance they meet again. In a time when you can't admit to being gay, for fear of arrest, admitting to your best friend that you love them seems like an insurmountable obstacle.

Featuring boxer Harry and mechanic Louis, much pining, and a lot of post war Britain

No One Like You (19k)

Dear Niall,

I was glad to have the chance to talk with you again at the AHA conference. Your idea that the Musee D’Orsay Tomlinson painting is in fact not a self-portrait is an intriguing one, and I may have discovered something that will have a bearing on that theory.

Some background: as you may remember, I’ve been researching for a book I’m writing about Harry Styles. I’ve been in communication with Styles’ last living descendant, who is in possession of a trunk that her family believed to have belonged to Styles himself. It held some personal items she presumes to be his, including two unmounted paintings and a small collection of letters.

Upon spending the last few days in Provins studying these items, I believe there to be a connection between Tomlinson and Styles, and I would very much like your opinion.

Are you up for a trip to France?

Sincerely, Liam Payne

Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.

Dance Like Warriors On A Battlefield (20k)

Down in the arena, the triumphant gladiator places his foot on the back of the loser, holding him there as he waits for instruction on his next move. Kill or let live. It’s barbaric, really, the bloodlust involved in this sport. Louis is pretty sure that if it wasn’t for his distaste for the killing there would be a lot more blood soaking that sand.

As it is, his father rarely gives the kill order anymore. He gives the order to let the loser live. Louis rolls his eyes, turning away. He doesn’t miss the way the gladiator’s eyes linger on him.

threadbare (20k)

Harry Styles was eight years old when Louis Tomlinson kept him from falling into a machine in a Manchester textile mill.

He was 18 years old when nothing, not even the threat of death, could keep Harry from falling in love with Louis.

Un Verso Que Hiciste De Mi (20k)

Harry froze as he looked up to his handler’s face. He found himself staring at the most beautiful twin pools of blue he’d ever see, and had to take a second to breathe before he remembered what to say.

“Please, don’t kill my friend,” he whispered.

Louis looked over at the red headed man. “You are to go back to your manor, and tell his family he will only be brought back if my ransom is met.”

or a Scottish Borderlands AU where Louis is a laird that kidnaps his rival’s betrothed, and Harry just happens to be that betrothed.

Damn the Dark, Damn the Light (20k)

“Why is this face of beauty ringing so true?” The genuine confusion in Harry’s voice causes Louis’ chest to painfully twinge. “You’re a complete stranger in my eyes, William Shakespeare, but not in my heart. How is that possible?”

Louis wants to live out every romance plot he has ever written in his own life. He wants to be the protagonist of his own narrative, the hero who finds true love and gets his happy ending. Instead, Louis is stuck with only dreaming of such wild fantasies and writing them down. He can create entire romances in his dreams, yet he can never live one.

let it shine under the morning star (22k)

It's the summer of 1891, and Bruges has significantly more angry swans and accidental Irish revolutionaries than Harry was anticipating being faced with on his summer holiday.

the dead things we carry (25k)

September ‘49

He hasn’t seen him since that day in France, that horrible muddy day where for one terrifyingly long second, Louis really thought he was going to die. He winces with the phantom pain, the hand not holding his cane going to his stomach automatically, remembering the franticness, the tenderness, of Harry’s hands while Louis was bleeding out.

This is the man who saved Louis’ life.

For one second, Louis fears Harry won’t recognise him, but his eyes widen when he turns to his left and they meet Louis’. He takes a step forward, reaching for him with a shaky hand before stopping himself.

“Louis,’ Harry says with a shudder and Louis doesn’t think his name has ever carried more weight.

This is the only man Louis ever thought about kissing for real.

“Oh,” Mrs. Padley says, clearly taken aback. “You two know each other?”

There are some things people never fully come home from. Until, one day, if they’re lucky, home comes to them.

Is it too much to ask for something great? (26k)

It is the dawn of the sixties and the whole sexual revolution may as well never happened since Harry still has to muffle his groans in the pillow when he fucks. God forbid neighbours would caught on. But maybe he wants to scream, maybe he wants his moans to carry through the wall and maybe he even likes to think that they would irk the person there somehow, but no. No such thing happens with Louis, because apparently he is the only person on the planet who doesn't care who you fuck. Being a fag in Greenwich Village is great, lots of fun, being a fag who is in love with his painfully straight best friend Louis? Torture. He should just let the whole thing go. Louis doesn't care for his moans, he produces a lot of them on his own, and those on the other hand haunt Harry's dream, and he's pretty sure that ten days on the road with Louis and Louis alone is actually going to kill him.

And he doesn't even like Beach Boys.

Box of Rain (26k)

that in his free time informally works as a ring boy. Somehow he manages to always get tangled on the ropes and at the same time charm the pants off of all the fighters and patrons. They meet in Manchester in 1977 and, even though they don't seem to have much in common, they... Well, they just sort of click, really.

The one with a friendship ruiner game of Monopoly, Harry always ending up in jail for wanting to save the world, Louis face to face with his archenemy and way too many references to 70s music.

Also staring Zayn as a brooding anarchist punk rocker, Liam as the nerdiest and nicest boxer in all Britain and Niall as a bookmarker that can easily convince people to bet fortunes, but can't make his friends realise their mutual crush on each other.

autumn leaves (27k)

“Brave?” Harry frowns, caught off guard. “No, not particularly.”

“You seem brave,” Louis decides, pushing off the wall and stepping on the butt of his cigarette. “You are strong, and you are not mean. That’s good,” he assures, touching Harry’s arm gently.

“Thank you, but that’s not true,” Harry smiles ruefully. “I’m really not anything special.”

Or, Harry is an American soldier in France during World War II, and Louis is a French waiter that doesn't mean to fall in love with him.

What Happened to 'Never Say Die'? (28k)

The 80s were one of the best decades to be a teenager in America. Just ask anyone who's seen a John Hughes movie. Louis would beg to differ. At least today he would, while he was stuck cleaning out his family's basement - part of his grounding after a senior prank gone wrong. But when he finds a box containing details of the biggest unsolved crime in Luna Hills, he and his friends decide to sneak out for one last adventure before they're all off to college. That is, as long as the mayor, who also happens to be Louis' mother, doesn't stop them before they discover the truth.

Or, a coming of age American AU inspired by classic 80s movies like The Goonies and Stand By Me where everyone has a secret and no one wants to get caught.

the beginning of everything (30k)

“How do you take it?” Harry asked, pouring tea into a cup.

“Just a dash of milk, please,” Louis cast a look over the small table, filled to capacity. “They’re very fond of you.”

Harry ducked his head, grinning. “They’re trying to impress you.”

Louis smiled, shaking his head. “Why would they want to do that?” he asked as he took the cup Harry passed to him, their fingers brushing for an instant.

“Empathy,” Harry said under his breath.

A Belle Époque AU set (mostly) in Paris in which Harry is a struggling artist, in more ways than one, and Louis is a successful theatre critic and a failed writer, more or less.

Our Stable Heart (30k)

Louis Tomlinson had it all. A beautiful mansion in the country-side of London, a well known job in the heart of downtown, and a lovely fiance he would soon marry...

But what happens when Louis' world is turned upside down just from gazing into a pair of dreamy, green eyes?

Something Louis could never have imagined himself...

i could marry that smile you're wearing (34k)

Louis is lost in his thoughts. Harry has found his new purpose in life. Both meet very unexpectedly and it is all full of cliches you can expect.

Ancient Greece AU - Louis as a member of aristocracy and Harry as a common slave.

what this world is about (34k)

An eighties American high school AU; there are first times, football games, and feelings.

Gem and the Hunters: The Treasure of Babylon (34k)

Louis Tomlinson wished, for one thing, his whole life: to find the ancient city of Babylon. After one failed attempt, he swore to never again attempt a search for the city. His friend, Niall Horan never pushed the issue, but when his family finds themselves in trouble, Niall’s only option is to convince Louis to try and find Babylon again.

Niall enlists the help of two famous treasure hunters: Harry and Gemma Styles and their friend Liam Payne. Harry and Gemma love ancient cultures as much as Louis and would give anything to find Babylon. Liam is just along for the ride, running from a shade in his past.

The five embark on the adventure of a lifetime… and find much more than any of them bargained for.

The Boy with the Red Scarf (35k)

It’s 1925 and Harry has left his small home to chase after his father’s footsteps. He wants to be a movie star, make money to keep his family comfortable just like his mother had told him his father had. But when he makes it to Chicago, he finds that people aren’t what they seem. The parties are grand, the women charming, and the money rolls. What he doesn’t understand is that behind that beautiful mask of a city there is something lurking in the shadows.

Starring Harry as a struggling actor and Louis as Al Capone.

If we meet sometime in the after years, my darling, I trust I will find your love still mine. (38k)

1970s AU.

The boy at the dinner table isn’t as much of a stranger as Louis thought, and somewhere between the diners, concerts, and the way the moonlight falls just right, the summer is enough time for realizing just that.

Felt the blood rushing through my veins, I still remember (42k)

Harry is the heir to his father's estate and wealth and he knows he is the most eligible bachelor in all of England. Louis is the stable boy who everyone loves and adores even though he can be a touch too bitter sometimes. They can't stand each other, and the pride of one and the prejudice of the other disallows any other feelings they might have.

Coeur du soleil (48k)

After assuming the throne when the Cardinal dies, Louis becomes King of France in 1661. He thinks he has everything under control and is determined to prove himself the leader he knows France needs, but his plans are quickly thrown aside once he meets a curly haired English Ambassador.

Harry's only job was to observe the King, and he ends up observing a little closer than expected. Featuring Captain Payne of the Royal Musketeers, Ambassador Malik from the Ottoman Empire, and Lord Horan from Ireland.

We're What's Right In This World (48k)

“Why did you talk like that in Brighton? If you weren’t planning on ever telling me?” Louis asked. “Is it because you think you’re going to die?”

“It’s war, Lou,” Harry said finally.

The words were a knife slipped between his ribs. Everything hurt and he was bleeding. He shifted up, his palms cradling Harry’s jaw, his lips against his boy’s. Not kissing, just resting there, so Louis could feel him. “Promise you’ll come back to me.”

Harry’s hands smoothed down the sides of Louis’ body. “You know I can’t do that. I’ll never lie to you.”

“Promise me. We’re going to have our cottage. And our dogs. And our breakfast in the garden where nothing grows because of the wind from the sea. Promise me.”

“I won’t.” Stubborn as always, his boy. “I’ll promise you, I’ll love you all my life. I’ll promise you, you’ll never leave my thoughts. I’ll promise you, you’re my forever and my always. But promising you something I can’t cheapens the things I can.” Or the World War II AU where Harry goes off to fight and all Louis wants to do is be the boy who brings him home.

the last person on earth i could ever marry (50k)

A Pride and Prejudice AU, where Harry is fed up with rich men and Mr Tomlinson is a very rich man.

For the Sake of Propriety (52k)

Louis Tomlinson is the caretaker of an estate that is not truly his, and when his Uncle calls upon him to take it back, Louis knows he will soon be out on the streets with four overly zealous sisters to care for. His only solution: wed the eldest two off and pray for the best. When an even better solution unexpectedly presents itself in the form of the charming Mr. Styles, Louis is faced with a difficult choice. But as with all things in the regency era, reputation very well may threaten to outweigh the fleeting matters of his heart.

Back To You And Tennessee (57k)

Louis Tomlinson rises to rock and roll fame at age twenty three and is thrown into a life of luxury and excess, but being on stage isn’t easy for a boy who has always stuck to the side-lines, and Louis struggles to deal with his new fame as he joins the Grand Ole Opry and is sent out on tour with names like Liam Payne and Elvis Presley. His life takes a turn, however, when his childhood role model, Harry Styles, joins them on tour, and the two become closer than two men in the spotlight are allowed to be.

OR, the one where Louis is Johnny Cash and Harry is June Carter

I Hunger For Your Beautiful Embrace (57k)

Legatus Harry is governor of Capua and Dominus of his estate. He governs with a firm and harsh rule and has never been known to be soft. That is until Louis comes into his life. A beautiful slave who creeps into Harry’s house and heart.

But in the times of Ancient Rome, when sex, wars, and death are the entertainment of the times, life and love are rare commodities.

Paint The Sky With Stars (62k)

On 10 April 1912, Harry Styles boards the finest ship the world has ever seen. Still grieving the death of their mother, he and his sister are being sent to America to live with a callous uncle who cares more about his business connections than family. Harry prepares himself for a long, disappointing voyage alone in his stateroom.

Louis Tomlinson has borrowed and saved, and finally has enough to purchase a Third Class ticket to America. With all of his belongings in a single ruck sack, he boards the Titanic filled with hope for a brighter future. Never one to sit still, he can’t resist exploring the massive ship, and soon goes sneaking into First Class in a stolen steward’s uniform.

By a twist of fate, Louis finds himself in Harry’s stateroom, entranced by the most attractive man he’s ever laid eyes on. He keeps returning day after day, even if he doesn’t understand what it is about Harry that continues pulling him in. That’s all right; Louis has a week to figure it out, and Harry is plenty willing to help.

Except they don’t have a week. They have four days. Because on 15 April, their entire world will be turned upside down.

Or, the historically accurate Titanic AU with a happy ending.

Life Had Just Begun (63k)

Stand up. Breathe. Run. Survive.

Back on his knees, Harry can wipe the blood from his eyes and see again, blurred and in slow motion, but he can see. He doesn’t think, he just moves. He gets to his feet, stumbling as his brain goes white in time with the lightning strike.

Run. Run. Run.

It’s 1985. All the cool kids are wearing Members Only jackets and acid wash jeans. The gay rights movement might be gaining traction around the country, but for a small town in Colorado, even listening to Queen is an invitation for a beating. Louis Tomlinson’s life is turned upside down when he comes face to face with the afterlife, and is given one seemingly simple mission: save Harry Styles.

The Art of Being a Gentleman (64k)

Out of all four of the Styles children, Harry has always been the most adored. He is the handsome, intelligent, and oh so charming golden child of the family, the perfect son who will soon be married to the perfect woman, a beauty queen named Victoria Astaire. Despite how loved he is among all who reside in the affluent town of Alton, his siblings absolutely despise him. In order to stain his squeaky-clean reputation and get their traditional, old fashioned parents to despise him as much as they do, they devise a plan that involves Harry’s giving nature, the desperation of a mother and father, and a mischievous boy who doesn’t give a damn about what’s proper.

Such Good Luck (66k)

Louis smiles at Harry’s words, leaning into his touch. “Tell me again.”

Smiling, Harry takes Louis into his arms. Pressing gentle kisses to his face, Harry murmurs, “In six months’ time, I will have my twenty-fifth birthday. On that day, my portion of the inheritance will become legally mine. And I plan that very day to announce to my family that I have found love.” Harry chuckles as he runs his lips lightly along Louis’ cheekbone. “That, in fact, I found love when I was twenty-one years old, and that I have loved and been loved every day since.”

Or, an Edwardian AU where Harry is a young aristocratic lord and Louis is a working class dairy farmer. Secrets are a necessary part of their relationship, but Louis has one that could topple their whole world.

Adore You (66k)

“We invited our new acquaintances from uptown. You’ve simply got to meet their oldest son!” said his mother with a flourish, and suddenly it became abundantly clear as to why his parents had so adamantly demanded he join them in Deansville for the entirety of the summer.

Against his wishes, Harry spends the holidays at his family’s summer estate, and is reluctantly pulled into a courtship he didn’t ask for. Harry doesn’t want to get married, but Louis does. They don’t fit, but then again they really, really do.

Vaguely set in the 1920’s. Headpieces, jazz, fashionable canes, and flapper dresses, and that.

The World Turned Upside Down (71k)

In September 1984, Harry Styles starts at Manchester Polytechnic with two goals: to take pictures and to join the Lesbian and Gay Society. He’s never paid much attention to the news, but everyone he meets in Manchester supports the miners. He realises how right they are when he meets Louis Tomlinson, a striking miner who flirts with him. A month later they are both at the founding meeting of Manchester Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners, trying to bring down the government. Through letters and visits they build a relationship, in a world very much not of their own choosing.

Manchester and Doncaster in the 1980s are grim, hopeful and alive. Niall is president of the Young Labour club, Nick Grimshaw is in love with the singer of an up and coming band, Fizzy wants to know more about the women of Greenham Common and Harry and Louis are brave.

A Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners/Pride AU.

modern love (72k)

It's August 9th, 1985. "Shout" by Tears for Fears is the top song on the Billboard charts, Back to the Future has been the #1 film in the country for five weeks straight, and Harry has just moved to what he believes to be the shittiest town in the Midwest.

Louis has been wasting away in East Chicago for over five years, Harry is the most exciting thing that's ever happened to him, and both of them are hiding a dangerous secret from their best friend: they're, like, totally sprung on each other.

Chasing Empty Spaces (79k)

The year is 1934 and Harry Styles was to inherent the largest tobacco firm in the south. His parents have picked out the “perfect” girl for him to marry and he has the privilege of receiving the highest education possible. The problem was, Harry hadn’t realized he didn’t actually want any part of that future until he met a mechanic named, Louis Tomlinson.

This Feels A Lot Like Love (80k)

Harry didn’t expect for his senior year to be filled with a blue-eyed boy with sharp cheekbones and an even sharper tongue. Then again, he didn’t expect to fall in love either.

Closeted romance, false promises and stolen kisses ensues. Set in the 90’s era.

Victorian Boy (81k)

Victorian AU. Harry the virgin Duke of Somerset knows little of love, while Louis the sly Duke of Warwick knows too much. When the two dukes come together for the Bilsdale fox hunt in York, Harry finds himself drawn into Louis' bed. But when secrets from Louis' dark past come to light, Harry fears that the fox isn't the only one being hunted.

Atlas At Last (83k)

He doesn’t know what he had been expecting out of the road trip itself besides burping contests and too much shitty gas station food with Oli and Stan, but in the brief moment before Harry ambles up his driveway, Louis idly wonders if this is about to become some sort of Gay Coming of Age story.

Maine to California in ten days. In which Zayn’s an open-shirt hippie they meet somewhere in Ohio, Liam’s the pastor’s son running away from home, and Niall’s the number they call on the bathroom wall.

It’s 1978. Harry and Louis are just trying to get to San Fran in time for the Queen concert.

And down the long and silent street (86k)

The year is 1881 and if you’re alone in this world you might as well be dead, because starving dogs have no mercy.

Or: Wherein Louis and Harry are on the opposite ends of the social ladder, but their paths still cross on the filthy streets Louis calls his home. The odds are staked against them from the beginning, and even more when Louis' past finally catches up with him.

Coax the Cold (86k)

England, 1897.

English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

Here In The Afterglow (88k)

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”

1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

Resist Everything Except Temptation (100k)

The lethargic sound of heels clicking against wood resonated across the sea. Footsteps descended the staircase, every assured step creating a menacing aura as it grew closer. Perspiration gathered along Louis’ palms as the rhythmic sound halted in front of him.

“Captain,” Malik greeted.

Louis watched out of his peripheral as Malik’s boots shuffled back a few steps. Sweat matted the hair along the nape of Louis’ neck as he waited for something to happen. He felt as if a sharp blade was twisting his gut as the silence became tangible. There was a metallic slide of a sword being pulled out of its sheath, the sound startling Louis out of his cocoon of sterile shock. His shoulders jumped as the tip of a blade flattened underneath his jaw. Louis’ distorted reflection stared back at him in the polished metal. Engraved rose petals twisted his appearance as they crawled up the length of the sword. The sword lifted and took Louis’ chin with it.

Standing in front of Louis was Captain Styles.

OR The one where Louis is the commodore's son who is forced to become a part of Harry's crew when he is captured.

Butterfly Gun (100k)

Harry has never been much of a fighter, but—as always—where Louis Tomlinson is concerned, a lot of things stop being true.

1940's AU. Even after six years apart, they can't forget their shared wartime childhood.

Through Eerie Chaos (102k)

For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead.

The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.

Landslide (143k)

The year is 1976. In November, Jimmy Carter will take control of the White House. Americans are meeting Laverne & Shirley at their apartment in Milwaukee. Hotel California diverges from the reign of Kool & the Gang. And the FBI is still reeling from the repercussions of Watergate, the tragedy at Wounded Knee, Operation Family Secrets, and the strategic terrors of the anti-cult movement.

That's what Special Agent Harry Styles has been told is the basis of his mission to an abandoned farmhouse in rural New Hampshire.

With his hair grown out long and his shirt untucked, he's going undercover to do reconnaissance on suspected cult leader Louis Tomlinson, who has led a group of people out into the middle of nowhere, leaving no record of the life he'd had before. All Harry knows is what the agency gave him: Tomlinson's name, and instructions to figure out what he's doing with the eleven people he brought with him.

In the year that Harry spends undercover and under Louis Tomlinson's wing, he learns more than he ever expected.

Love Endless (series; 3 completed works/1WIP; 696k)

The year is groovy 1973, and eighteen-year-old Louis Tomlinson is perhaps the gayest teen to ever grace the gloomy, hateful town of Fortwright. Would be fine if he wasn't so viciously bullied at both home and school for such a "harmful" sexual preference.

Yeah, yeah, we've all heard this story, haven't we?

Believe him, Louis didn't think he was anything special either.

Until he found the mansion. The notoriously haunted mansion hidden deep within the forests of his tiny blip of a town in Bumfuck Nowhere, Idaho. No one with a brain ever goes near it, but Louis could use a little excitement in his life...and possibly a Band-Aid or two.

After discovering the mansion was less abandoned than he'd thought, he's now left with the most riveting mystery of a lifetime; every new finding leaving him with more questions. Who is this elusive owner, and why won't they show themselves? Why is there a set of journals in the same handwriting that span over centuries? Why in the world is there a padlock on the refrigerator...and who the hell is Alexander?

#larry stylinson #larry fic rec #larry stylinson fic rec #stylinsonlibrary #historical #masterpost

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kpopsinning · 7 years

Text

Let the Games Begin (ot7/Vmin semi-focus)

So that was how it came to be: seven unlikely friends, sort of misfits in their own ways, but friends nonetheless.

Given that, it shouldn’t have been so shocking that such unlikely friends would find themselves in such an unlikely situation on Friday October 13th.

genre: angst (horror, major character deaths, gore, murder, drug and alcohol use)

word count: 19k

A/N: This story was written for a contest to create something BTS related based on your favorite horror movie. This story is based around the Saw franchise and universe. If you are familiar with Saw, you know exactly what’s coming, so consider that. Do not take the tags lightly. Because this was for a contest based around horror, I did not hold back. In all honesty, this fic is really fucked up, so I’m sorry in advance.

You have been warned, proceed with caution :-)

Most people at the university saw them as a very unlikely group of friends. Just seven misfits living together for the sake of cheaper rent, a circumstance which eventually lead to a much deeper friendship.

Seokjin and Namjoon started off with the house, splitting the ridiculously high rent of the large four bedroom home just between the two of them for several months until they were sure they found roommates who they wouldn’t want to kick out within a month of moving in.

First came Jungkook.

Namjoon had been friends with Jungkook since the year previous when he was the younger’s floor RA. Joon had dormed on campus before he moved to live with Seokjin, and quickly developed a soft spot for his younger resident. When Jungkook realized that Namjoon wouldn’t be living in the campus residence halls the following semester, he had to admit, he was a little hurt. He was on the shier side and enjoyed having formed such a close relationship with his RA, and quite honestly wasn’t sure he could handle living in the dorms without him. One day over the summer he had asked Namjoon what his plans were if he wasn’t going to live in the dorms anymore, and the second he heard about the house he and Seokjin planned on renting, he was sold.

Namjoon was a bit surprised; Jungkook was young and living on campus was one thing, completely wanting to move out and away from his family was another. But the kid seemed sure of it, seemed determined to get out and live on his own. He insisted to Namjoon that he had a good job on campus, worked a lot of extra hours and would be able to keep up with the rent. So after a few long discussions with Jin, the two finally decided to let the younger move in with them.

Yoongi and Hoseok were the next two to move in; the almost cliche friendship between the music major and underground dancer was like something straight out of a Step Up movie. They had been friends since high school, and at the time were living in a shitty little apartment together off campus.

Yoongi had sat next to Jin during his junior spring semester philosophy elective, and the two quickly became friends. Sure, maybe they only talked so often because Yoongi was constantly dozing off in class and asking Jin to explain what was going on, but Jin didn’t mind. He was amused by his new, spaced out friend.

One day after class he overheard Yoongi grumbling something on the phone to Hoseok about how their landlord was threatening to kick them out, and Jin took the opportunity to propose him and his friend a new place to live. Yoongi and Hoseok were more than eager to take him up on the offer.

The last to move in was the couple: Jimin and Taehyung. Taehyung was best friends with Jungkook and had mentioned to him one day that he and Jimin were thinking about finding their own apartment off campus and living together. Jungkook however had an even better idea-- there was still one whole empty bedroom in the house he was currently living in, and he was sure his roommates would be glad to cut their shared rent even further. Jungkook asked Jin and Namjoon first before bringing the idea up to Tae and Jimin of course, and the older two didn’t have much of an issue with it. Jin seemed a little hesitant at first about letting a couple move in, mumbling something under his breath about not wanting to hear them fucking all night, but Namjoon just brushed him off. If Jin could bear with the amount of girls Hoseok was constantly bringing home, living with a couple wouldn’t be much different. Plus, Yoongi had mentioned he was already friends with Jimin, and if Jungkook already knew them as well they would fit right in.

So that was how it came to be: seven unlikely friends, sort of misfits in their own ways, but friends nonetheless.

Given that, it shouldn’t have been so shocking that such unlikely friends would find themselves in such an unlikely situation on Friday October 13th.

Jin was friends with one of the main founders of the biggest frat on campus, Delta Psi (friends with… tutored in microbiology… practically the same thing, right?). After the frat boy’s first well earned ‘A’ on a big exam Jin was guaranteed an invite to every party the frat threw from that day forward, even being told he could bring as many friends he wanted.

The next party the frat was scheduled to host was going to be on Friday October 13th.

Friday the 13ths weren’t always special, but when the notoriously superstitious day happened to fall during the spookiest month of the whole year, people wanted to take advantage of it. Of course any sane college student would make up even the slightest excuse to party either way, so Delta Psi decided they would throw a bit of an early Halloween celebration to commemorate such an occasion.

Jin had mentioned the party to Taehyung just four days before it was scheduled to happen. He knew that Friday was also Jimin’s birthday, so he wouldn’t have been surprised if the couple already had plans.

“Or even if you guys just want the house to yourself,” Jin added with a slight chuckle. “We’re all going to the party, so you two can be as loooud as you want, no holding back,” he teased with a wink, causing Taehyung to roll his eyes and punch his older friend on the shoulder. He told Jin he’d think about it, because truth be told he and Jimin didn’t really have any special plans for his birthday yet.

Taehyung knew his boyfriend well, and he knew he didn’t usually want to make a big fuss over his birthday. Despite that, the year previous Taehyung and the others had dragged Jimin out for a proper bar crawl on his 21st birthday. They all insisted that the only way to truly celebrate turning 21 was to legally get blackout drunk.

That level of drunkenness was certainly achieved, because Jimin couldn’t even remember the night from the moment after Yoongi opened a bottle of tequila to pregame at the house before heading out to the first bar.

But turning 22 wasn’t as special as turning 21, so Taehyung figured maybe his boyfriend would just be down to spend the night out at a party where the attention wasn’t solely focused on the birthday boy.

He brought it up to Jimin the same day Jin had told him about it as the two were getting into bed for the night. Tae was absentmindedly toying with a piece of his lover’s hair as the smaller boy shifted around, trying to comfortably snuggle himself into his boyfriend’s broad, warm chest.

“Jiminie,” Taehyung mumbled into Jimin’s hair, pausing to breathe in the familiar scent of their favorite shampoo. “Did you wanna do anything special on Friday?”

The mention of Friday, his birthday, got Jimin to stop stirring momentarily. He rested a hand on Tae’s chest and moved back a bit to look up at his face.

“Well I don’t particularly want to do anything…” he replied honestly, narrowing his eyes. “Why? Did you… you didn’t plan anything did you? Because you know after last year-” Tae chuckled and silenced his boyfriend with a chaste kiss on the lips.

“No no baby, not at all,” Taehyung defended, squeezing the hand he had rested on Jimin’s waist gently to relax him. “Jin told me today that Delta Psi is throwing another banger on Friday. Using Friday the 13th as an excuse for an early Halloween party or some shit like that,” he chuckled, amused by the way Jimin’s nose scrunched up at the mention of a party.

“So I already have to deal with the fact that my birthday’s happening on a Friday this year, but now a bunch of airhead frat boys are using the stupid date as lame justification for a party?” Jimin raised an eyebrow, and Tae had to bite back a grin.

“Well when you say it that way…” Tae mumbled, scratching the back of his neck with the hand not caressing the soft skin under Jimin’s t-shirt. Jimin rolled his eyes.

“Is everyone else going?” he sighed, and Taehyung nodded in response. “Alright alright. I mean, as long as I get to spend the day with you, that’s all that really matters to me.”

Taehyung couldn’t help but smile, giving into the sudden urge he felt to lean in and press their lips together.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make sure this birthday is a million times better than last year’s,” he assured, snaking his arms around Jimin’s waist before they both fell asleep.

The rest of the week drifted by, and before everyone knew it it was finally Friday. The group’s house was was already buzzing with excitement from it being Jimin’s birthday, but now later into the night the excitement shifted over to the party.

“Come on guys, if we get going now we’ll get there right around 10!” Jin called up the staircase. He, Namjoon, and Yoongi were all sitting in the living room waiting for the others to finish getting ready. Yoongi always seemed to be the first to be ready for a party, his already half empty flask in hand as he lounged on the couch next to Namjoon.

The group was planning on walking to the party, as the frat house it was being held at was only a little over a mile away. Walking was better than having to worry about a designated driver anyway, and it gave them some time to start sobering up whenever the decided to finally head back home.

About a minute after Jin called for the others, Jungkook and Hoseok came bounding down the stairs loudly arguing over something.

“Where’re the love birds?” Namjoon interrupted their dispute, laughing quietly as he watched the two who had just joined them start to wrestle one another.

“Don’t know, probably fucking,” Hoseok grunted, trying to maneuver out of the headlock Jungkook was holding him in and focus back on their conversation.

“What’s all this about?” Jin chuckled, dodging out of the way as Jungkook picked up Hoseok and acted like he was going to throw him across the room. Hoseok always underestimated his younger friend’s strength, and it was moments like this he was reminded Jungkook frequented the campus’s athletic center just as often as he personally frequented the dance studio.

“Kookie said he’s going to hook up with a girl tonight before I am,” Hoseok panted, finally turning the tables and shoving Jungkook against the wall. He pinned one of his leg’s in between Jungkook’s in a position he could easily knee him in the crotch if needed, and held him down with an arm across his neck.

“I didn’t say that,” Jungkook grumbled with an eyeroll, only giving Hobi a moment of dominance before easily flipping their position. “I said if I tried I could, it’s definitely not happening.” Yoongi snorted, taking a quick swig from his flask.

“Sounds like you’re trying to insinuate a bet, kid,” he chimed in, holding up his drink as if to give cheers to the two still fighting.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Hoseok exclaimed before the two suddenly went tumbling to the floor with a loud thud, limbs tangling together in the process. The sound of all five of their boisterous laughs quickly filled the space of the tiny living room, drifting upstairs so that Jimin and Taehyung could hear.

“Hear that? They’re already having fun without us,” Taehyung teased, coming up behind his boyfriend to lightly press a kiss to the exposed skin of his neck right above the collar of his t-shirt. Jimin sighed and gave a small eye roll, turning to face Tae.

“Sorry sorry I just…” he gave a another, slightly louder sigh, running his fingers through his messy, faded orange hair. “Maybe I should stay in tonight… but… I don’t know... you could still go without me,” he mumbled shyly, eyes falling down to the space in between their two bodies. Taehyung instantly frowned, hand reaching up to gently cup Jimin’s face.

“Jimin, why on earth would I go out tonight, on your birthday of all days, without you?” he questioned, using his hand to force Jimin to look up and make eye contact with him. He could see worry in his lover’s eyes, a sort of hesitation that usually wasn’t there.

“I know I know but,” Jimin paused as he tried to think of the right words. “I’m getting weird vibes. Especially after last year,” he mumbled with a shrug. “And I know it probably seems silly but I just don’t want to-”

“Today is supposed to be about you, Jiminie,” Taehyung kept his voice soft but stern as he cut him off. “And if staying in tonight is really what you want to do, then fine, that’s what we’ll do. But I promise you this birthday is going to be better than last year, and I know you’re going to have an amazing time if we go out and you spend the night surrounded by your best friends,” he insisted, an assuring smile shining through as he gazed into Jimin’s eyes.

How could Jimin say no to that beautiful, boxy smile?

Jimin broke out into a grin himself just from the way Taehyung looked at him. His deep brown eyes were so full of love and admiration... Jimin completely reciprocated all the emotions felt between them in that moment, and was completely won over. He giggled quietly and stood on his toes to deeply kiss his lover, but it was less of a kiss and more like two smiles being pressed against one another.

It was then that Namjoon rudely interrupted their moment, kicking in their already cracked open bedroom door. The two were startled and jumped apart, an intense blush creeping over Jimin’s cheeks.

“Ugh gross. At least you two weren’t fucking like Hoseok thought,” Namjoon pretended to gag, jumping to the the side to evade the way Taehyung lunged at him with a fake punch. Jimin smiled as he watched the interaction unfold, going over and slipping his small hand into Taehyung’s and lacing their fingers together.

“Come on, everyone’s waiting,” Namjoon chuckled and nodded towards the stairs, already out their bedroom door and in the hallway. Tae and Jimin followed hand in hand.

“Finally,” Yoongi groaned loudly once he saw the three emerging at the top of the stairs, sprawling out further over the couch like he was suffering. “I’m already almost out of whiskey, I’m going to die if we don’t get to this party soon.” He went into a fake coughing fit, clutching onto his flask as if it were his life support. Jin rolled his eyes, swiftly snatching the small metal container out of Yoongi’s hand.

“You don’t need to bring that, there’s gonna be more than enough liquor at this party to keep up with your alcoholic tendencies.”

Yoongi tried to protest but quickly gave up, seeing as everyone else was already making their way towards the front door. He got off the couch and caught up to the them, swinging an arm over Hoseok shoulders as they began to walk down the dimly lit street of their peaceful neighborhood.

Sometimes, at times like this, the street they lived on seemed so tranquil you almost wouldn’t be able to tell there was a lively college campus and a full street of frat houses less than two miles away. Their house was located just far enough away that they were never bothered by any school related rowdiness, and they all enjoyed living in such a simple, quiet neighborhood. It felt good to get away from the wildness that could come with going to such a popular university, but living the way they did gave them all a sort of sense of refuge away from it all. Their cramped house and makeshift little family provided them with a sense of security, and it was these moments where they could just wander down the middle of the street with nothing but a comfortable silence hanging between them that they were thankful they had all come into each other’s lives.

By the time they arrived at the frat house it was already overflowing with people, and the music was being played so loudly it felt like the entire property was vibrating. Each of the boys always had slightly different motives when attending parties like this, and quickly went their separate ways-- they knew they’d find each other again at some point when they were ready to walk home in the early hours of the morning.

Jin and Joon usually stuck together, and tonight was no different. They were both just there for free beer and to chill, so they went to the kitchen, snagged whatever they wanted to drink, then wandered around until they found a group of friends to hang out with.

Yoongi was always the most predictable. The second he stepped foot through the front door he was making a beeline for the basement, where he had been told a group of his friends was waiting for him with a packed bowl with his name on it. The whiskey he had drank before was still warming his entire body, but he was itching for some THC and the wonderful floaty feeling that came with it (really at that point, he was ready to put any substance into his system to lose himself for the night).

Hoseok usually wouldn’t attend a party unless he already knew there was a girl there who wanted to get in his pants, but tonight was a little different. He and Jungkook had actually ended up making the bet on who could get with someone first, so from the moment he arrived Hoseok had his eyes peeled for a girl who looked ‘easy’.

It didn’t take long for Jungkook to begin following Hobi around like a lost puppy. He had seemed cocky about the bet at first, but once actually arriving at the party he felt intimidated. Eventually Hoseok started to feel bad for his younger friend, as it was becoming clear to him that Jungkook wasn’t as confident as he made out to be earlier at the house.

“Alright kid, listen,” Hobi huffed, shoving two red solo cups into Jungkook’s hands. “Just go up to a girl who looks kind of bored, offer her the drink, and chat her up,” he paused to pat Jungkook’s cheek, maybe a bit too roughly. “You’re cute, use that boyish charm of yours and win someone over,” he teased with a wink. Jungkook rolled his eyes and mumbled something about not needing help, and his cheeks heated up slightly. A part of him however was thankful Hoseok was pushing him in the right direction, giving him a quick nod before disappearing into a crowd of people.

Taehyung could tell Jimin was anxious from the moment they got to the frat house. He had no doubt that memories of the previous year’s birthday were flooding his mind, and the amount of people crammed so tightly into one space certainly wasn’t making it any easier. Tae gave Jimin’s hand a gentle squeeze and pulled him into the kitchen where all the alcohol was.

“Come on, let’s make some drinks and go outside, yeah?” Tae kissed Jimin’s temple and picked up two plastic cups, quickly dumping an absurd amount of the strongest liquor he saw into each and adding a splash of mixer. Jimin watched as Tae made the drinks, unphased by the amount of alcohol in them-- he figured he’d probably need it to get through the night. Within a few minutes the two were outside, sitting around a blazing firepit with a small group of people they recognized form some of their classes. It was much quieter in the backyard, so Tae assumed it’d be a good place for them to get going until they had a decent amount of alcohol pumping through their veins.

The rest of the night went on just as any other party they’d ever attended would. They drank, hung out with their friends, and had a good time. Just a typical college party, going exactly the way anyone would anticipate it to. At some point during the night however, something changed for the group of seven boys, and suddenly things were far less ‘typical’ than they would have ever imagined.

None of them were aware of when exactly things took a turn, and they never would be.

It was around 2am when Jin felt it first. The abrupt dizziness that overcame him was not characteristic of his usual drunken state, and also came with a wave of tiredness. He felt like if he were to lean over on Namjoon’s shoulder, he could fall asleep right in the middle of the commotion of the party surrounding them. He was out of it, and was thinking to himself ‘something doesn’t feel right’ for far too long before finally shifting his zoned out gaze to Joon. His friend looked just as out of it.

Alarms were blaring in Jin’s mind to say something, get up and start looking for the rest of their friends and head back home, but his mind was processing all these sudden thoughts much too slowly. It felt like full minutes had passed before he finally was able to simply move his hand to grab onto Namjoon’s shoulder. Joon’s reaction was delayed, not that Seokjin noticed, and it took him a moment to make eye contact with his older friend.

“The… the others… let’s go,” was all Jin was able to get out. He wanted to say so much more, he wanted to voice all the panic flooding his mind, but his brain felt like it had turned to jello and all his thoughts were having difficulty moving through the thick substance. Jin could hardly even tell, but Joon was having a very similar experience. Namjoon was barely able to nod as the two stood up to search for the rest of the group.

The entire world seemed to tilt to one side as they stood, and they had to brace themselves on each other to get their bearings. They wanted to ask if the other was okay, they both had the mutual thought… but both were quickly losing the capacity to even form words.

Namjoon and Jin found all five of their friends in similar states to their own.

Namjoon had found Hoseok and Jungkook upstairs in a bedroom that appeared to be the designated room for hook-ups. Hoseok was sitting on the bed, his hands roaming over the body of the petite girl perched on top of him, but his face was vacant of emotion and his eyes weren’t anywhere near the half naked girl in his lap.

Jungkook was sitting on the opposite end of the bed to Hoseok getting… a bit more attention from the girl who’s head was in between his legs than Hoseok was. Along the same lines as Hoseok, by the look on his face you would have never been able to tell he was receiving a blowjob. If he weren’t so impaired, Joon would have certainly had more of an adverse reaction to what he walked in on, but with how much he was struggling to simply hold his own train of thought to find his friends, he couldn’t be bothered to do more than smack them both on the cheeks and tell them it was time to get going.

Now.

The girls they were hooking up with were very disgruntled by Namjoon’s intrusion and seeming disregard for their entire existence, but all Joon cared about for the time being was getting his friends out of the frat house.

Jin went to the basement first, because he knew that was where he’d find Yoongi. He was correct in his assumption, going downstairs to find his younger friend sprawled over a tattered couch surrounded by his obviously high friends. Yoongi looked like he was fighting to stay awake, head snapping up every time it lolled over to the side. Despite his tiredness he was still clutching onto the bong they had been using as if it were his lifeline, his other friends too high at that point to care he was hogging it without actually using it. Jin walked over to him and pried the glass from Yoongi’s sweaty hands, setting it aside on a table before taking Yoongi’s hand and pulling him to stand. Yoongi was trying to say something to him and Jin could tell, probably some sort of protest, but his words were just one big slurred mess.

Jin and Namjoon met outside at the front steps, instructing the three inebriated friends they’d dragged with them to stay there and wait. They still needed to find Taehyung and Jimin, Joon having not seen them upstairs and Jin not seeing them in the basement.

They ventured back into the cramped house, the world feeling as if it were moving too quickly around them as they tried to make their way through the masses of bodies surrounding them. Everything sounded like their ears were filled with water and the lights which were already dimmed for the sake of the party were much too bright.

After stumbling through the kitchen and going out to the backyard, they finally found Tae and Jimin. The couple was lying together in a hammock across the patio, Jimin on top of Taehyung with their limbs tangled together.

When Jin went over and nudged Tae’s shoulder, he responded slowly. Jin would have probably noticed the delayed reaction if he wasn’t having such trouble processing his own senses himself.

“Get up… leaving,” Joon grunted when he came up by Jin’s side, pushing lightly on Jimin’s shoulder. After another stretched out minute of thinking they all realized Jimin was unconscious in Tae’s arms, and such a realization to Taehyung was sobering.

Seokjin and Namjoon almost fell backwards at the speed with which Taehyung was out of the hammock and standing, carrying his boyfriend bridal style and expectantly looking at his older friends.

“Let’s get going.” Tae’s voice was shaky but he barely noticed it. He was fading as fast as the others, but he was vaguely aware that all of a sudden his entire purpose in the universe was to get Jimin home safely.

While he couldn’t properly voice the thought, Jin realized it would be better to walk around the perimeter of the house rather than try to go through the bustling party with Taehyung carrying Jimin. Instead of saying anything he just grabbed Namjoon and Tae’s sleeves, tugging them in the direction of the gate leading out of the backyard.

Once back out front, Namjoon went over to the three still sitting on the front steps as Tae and Jin began heading to the street. They were all sitting there with the same vacant expressions of their faces, and fighting to stay awake. Joon mumbled something incoherent and motioned for them to get up and follow, and after struggling to understand what he was getting at for two minutes too long, they got up and followed him towards the other three.

The walk home was like a fever dream. They were stumbling beside each other in a huddled group in the middle of the street, occasionally needing to stop one another from falling forward.

The worst part of the whole thing? The wordlessness.

The lack of communication between them might have been the most detrimental part of it all. They were each stuck in their own heads, telling themselves, ‘It’s just me, everything is fine, we just need to get home, I just need to sleep it off.’

It wasn’t even purely the fact that they were each convinced the fog in their minds was something they were only personally experiencing-- they probably wouldn’t have been able to voice an intelligible thought if they could think one.

A pair of headlights rounded a corner a few blocks down, following them from behind.

None of them noticed.

Jungkook was probably the odd one out here. While all of the others were solely focused on making it back to the house, using every ounce of their little remaining energy to keep from falling asleep right there in the middle of the street, Jungkook was hyper aware of everything going on-- and that was the scariest part for him.

He was aware of the haze clouding his mind to the point the simplest of thoughts were increasingly difficult. He was aware of the blood pounding in his ears so loud it almost hurt, yet at the same time was dampened by the way the functions of all his senses were diminishing. He was aware the entire world was spinning and blurry, feet knocking into each other as he was so disoriented he could barely move one in front of the other. He was aware of his heart rate, so fast it was almost as if it were vibrating in his chest. He was aware. He was way too aware, and it scared him even more that he couldn’t find any words to express his panicked state.

He knew he didn’t drink this much. He knew this wasn’t right. Every lucid part of his mind was screaming ‘Something is wrong, something is wrong, something is wrong!’ over, and over, and over again.

The headlights were drawing closer.

Yoongi went down first. He and Hoseok had been walking with their arms around each other, and when Yoongi suddenly collapsed under his own weight it was enough to drag Hobi down with him.

It was then that the headlights behind them stopped. It was time to wait, and watch.

What was happening in seconds was perceived as hours to those still standing. Tae tried to turn around when he heard the sound of bodies hitting ground, but shifting his vision caused him to trip over his own two feet. He crashed down, landing like deadweight on Jimin who was still out cold. Jungkook’s eyes widened, the screaming voice in his brain growing louder.

’Something is wrong! Something is wrong! Something is wrong!’

Jungkook and Jin watched helplessly as Namjoon leaned over to try and reach Yoongi and Hoseok, but that was all it took for him to collapse in a heap on top of them.

The youngest and the oldest made eye contact, holding each other’s gazes as their minds worthlessly tried to form some sort of cohesive thought. They just needed to say something, one of them just needed to think enough to--

Jungkook went down. Jin hadn’t even caught it at first, the delay of his perception so slowed he didn’t realize it happened until his eyes shifted down to Jungkook’s body which was now joining the others on the asphalt.

The headlights approached and pulled up besides them. The man driving was impatient. This was taking too long.

Jin staggered forward a few steps towards the van that had driven up to the side of the street. Oh how badly did Jin want to be thankful, did he want to show this stranger who had found them at such a dire time how grateful he was he stopped for them.

The man got out of the car, and Jin was hit over the head with something hard.

He was finally ready to begin setting up his game.

The walls of the room were cement bricks like you’d see in an unfinished basement, painted a pure intense white. They harshly reflected the LED lights hanging from the ceiling, flooding the room with an unnecessary amount of light. The floor was completely bare, plain concrete, and there were large metal doors on two walls opposite each other.

Hoseok woke up first.

Absolutely nothing felt right from the moment he began regaining consciousness. He couldn’t move, and he couldn’t remember much of anything after arriving at the party. As he started to come to, he became that aware something was in his mouth; it was oddly shaped and he thought possibly made of metal from the very vague taste he could get of it, bitter and foreign.

He tried to move his head, as if to roll over to the side, but it was no use. That was when he realized he couldn’t move his arms and legs either-- his wrists and ankles were bound holding him spread out like a starfish. The more he became aware of himself, the more he became aware of everything that was wrong. Whatever position he was in, he was upright, and he could only tell that from the way his legs and feet tingled with numbness, presumably from his blood rushing down to them.

It was like he was hung up, mounted on a wall like a hunter’s prized game.

He tried to open his eyes and he wasn’t sure what hurt more: the feeling of the layer of crust covering them ripping apart as he attempted to do so, or the bright white light that filled the room suddenly flooding his sensitive vision. The light itself nauseated him to the point where if he could, he might have doubled over.

Hoseok could barely make out whatever contraption was fixed on his head and partially shoved into his mouth out of his peripheral vision. He had to blink several times, long and slow before his eyes could even begin to focus on anything surrounding him. Once he started to glance around, the contents of the room he was in made him wish he had never opened his eyes.

The first thing his eyes settled on was Jungkook, or at least... his body.

The youngest member of the friend group was dangling in the center of the room directly in front of him with a thick rope around his neck fashioned into a noose. His neck was at a noticeably unnatural angle, and his back was to Hoseok.

It was probably better that way.

Hoseok had to blink a few more times, his brain refusing to comprehend the sight before him. He frantically attempted to look around the rest of the room for answers, maybe even answers he didn’t want, or maybe some sort of proof this was just some kind of fucked up dream, but his range of view was limited with the heavy metal device holding his head in place.

From what he could make out, four of his other friends were each slumped on the floor in four separate corners of the room: Yoongi and Namjoon were in the corners across from him he could tell, but the two in the corners closer to him were just out of sight. He had to assume it was Jimin and Seokjin, because a second later he realized that past Jungkook there was a table closer to the further wall. Taehyung was strapped down to the table with what looked like old fashioned medical restraints, and hanging above him were some sort of absurd blade-like weapons that looked like they were taken straight out of a medieval museum.

The four in the corners looked limp and lifeless, but if he focused hard enough Hobi could tell that they were still breathing. Thick, metal chains were fixated to rings at each corner of the room, and the end of each chain attached to what looked like collars around their necks.

Hoseok’s head was spinning, and this time it wasn’t from the lingering side effects of whatever drug he had been slipped at the party.

This had to be a dream, it had to be, he refused to believe otherwise. He had just gotten too fucked up and the alcohol was messing with him. This was all just some completely fucked up lucid dream.

Every part of him told him not to look at Jungkook, like he knew that if he looked at him again the sickening realization he didn’t want to admit to himself would hit him like a ton of bricks.

He looked anyway.

It was as if some part of him had expected something to change, had expected the body hanging before him to disappear like this all really was a dream… but it wasn’t.

Jungkook’s skin was waxy and taught, and Hoseok couldn’t pull his eyes away from the rope wrapped around his crooked neck… Hoseok was thankful he couldn’t see the younger’s face, if thankful were even a conceivable word in any aspect here.

Hobi tried to cry out. He tried to scream and yell, anything to get someone’s attention, to wake one of the others up. His attempts were pathetic; whatever was filling his mouth was making communication near impossible, but he tried anyway. His muscles strained and flexed as they pulled against the restraints pinning him to the wall, but it was no use. He had never felt so useless in his entire life.

Tears had began to well in his eyes from sheer frustration, but just then, two of his friends laying on the floor began to stir.

When Yoongi started to wake up, the first thing that hit him was his pounding headache. He was never one for hangovers, so that was his first clue that something was wrong before he even opened his eyes. What further pulled him into consciousness was Jimin’s sudden screaming from across the room. Yoongi groggily began trying to sit up, hands flying to the heavy weighted, collar-like brace around his neck. Visions of the night before started to flood into his mind, but he soon realized there was a distinct cut off point where everything became blurry and he couldn’t remember anything after it. He vaguely remembered someone offering him LSD... He never thought he’d try hallucinogenic drugs but-

“Yoongi? Yoongi please tell me you’re awake, god please wake up.”

Yoongi didn’t even realize he was still half rolling around on the floor with his eyes closed until Namjoon’s voice cut into his own thoughts. Yoongi finally peeled his eyelids open, his eyes shooting right past Namjoon and to Jungkook’s body hanging in the center of the room.

“What the fu… did I fucking take the LSD last night? Is this real? Am I still fucked u- OW WHAT THE FUCK?”

Namjoon cut off Yoongi’s rambling with a sharp slap to the cheek.

“Fucking pull yourself together Min, take a look around you. This isn’t the time for your idiotic drug addict bullshit,” Namjoon hissed, getting back up walking more towards his own corner of the room. Yoongi was still trying to wrap his head around everything as he slowly stood upon shaky legs, taking a moment to take in his surroundings.

Jimin looked like he was in physical pain from how hard he was trying to hold back tears, having realized it was impossible for him to reach Taehyung with the metal collar chaining him to the corner of the room. Taehyung was strapped down to what looked like a table you’d see in a doctor’s office, only much dirtier and dingier than what would be in any sane modern day medical facility. Jin and Namjoon were both pacing, Joon occasionally trying to communicate with Hoseok, who Yoongi realized was bound to the wall opposite the side Tae was more towards. Yoongi couldn’t even begin to explain whatever apparatus was bound to Hoseok’s face, and he could feel his heart lurch at the sight of his friend in such a helpless position.

That was when reality really started to set in for Yoongi, because that was when his eyes once again made their way towards Jungkook. It was at that point that Yoongi doubled over, vomiting up the little contents that had been in his stomach all over the concrete floor besides him.

Taehyung didn’t know what was more terrifying: the huge blades hanging above him, or not being able to see enough of the room to fully get a feel for what was going on. There was a restraint similar to the ones on his wrists and ankles over his neck, and it was so tight it was almost a bit difficult to breathe and made turning his head impossible. He could just barely see the body hanging in the center of the room out of his peripheral vision, but from the mumbles and cries he could hear coming from his friends, he could tell he didn’t want to see it in the slightest. What was making his heart hurt the most was the sound of his boyfriend’s sobbing, which he recognized far too easily. He wanted to hold his lover and tell him everything was going to be okay, that they’d find a way out… even if he wasn’t too sure in those statements himself.

Taehyung hated feeling powerless, and everything about being strapped to that table made it probably the worst possible position he could have been put into.

“G-guys I…” Taehyung was surprised at first by the hoarseness of his voice, but then again, he really had no idea how long they’d been out for, so it probably shouldn’t have been such a shock. “Please… please can someone… can anyone please just t-tell me what’s going on?” His voice was shaking as he spoke. Being unable to see anything clearly other than the menacing blades hanging above him, he felt so out of the loop. He could hardly make out the jumbled conversations going on between the others, but thought hopefully they were in better positions than he, and maybe knew what was going on.

“They probably can’t, but I can.”

Everyone jumped slightly at the sudden voice, then immediately froze. It sounded as if it were coming over a shoddy speaker system, like you’d hear in a department store that probably had the money for better equipment but chose to not spend it.

“What’s going on you fucking cock sucker, what did you do to Jungkook?” Yoongi spat, looking as if he were ready to lunge at the anonymous voice addressing them. The others all visibly winced at the mention of the elephant in the room; of course Yoongi was the most ballsy and would demand an explanation right away while all the others were still having difficulties facing reality. Seokjin rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, be a dick to the one who’s probably behind all this. Min Yoongi, everybody,” he grumbled, shooting a glare towards Yoongi’s corner of the room. They all knew Yoongi was the most stubborn of the group, but this really wasn’t the time for him to be showing it.

“Oh don’t worry, I have plenty of answers for you,” the voice chuckled. “Actually, I also have a set rules, and this is going to be a fun little game for us all.”

Okay, now he had their attention. Jin, Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin all nervously looked between one another, a thick tension suddenly filling the room.

“Last night at your stupid little frat party, a student at your university I am currently mentoring assisted me by slipping you all Ketamine at some point after your arrival. Honestly you all made this a bit too easy for me; I told him I was looking for a group of 6-8 people with already relatively close relationships, and he knew you seven would be the perfect participants.”

It was sickening how obvious it was that this man was amused by all of this just from his tone of voice. If their heads weren’t already spinning from the situation as a whole, they most certainly were now. Just the thought that someone who had been at the party with them last night, one of their peers, maybe even a friend was working with the horrible man doing this… all of their stomachs were churning.

“Now, I take a lot of pride in my games, and they usually require a lot of elaborate setup. I guess my student misjudged your one friend’s weight and didn’t give him a high enough dose and well uh…” he paused and sighed, almost as if fiending disappointment. “He woke up much too soon, right in the middle of my preparation. Brat put up a hell of a fight, I’ll give him that, but I couldn’t have him ruining my game so early on. It’s bad enough I had to suddenly make last minute adjustments to account for one less player, so I decided to just take care of him right then and there. I figured he’d make a nice little reminder for you that I make the rules here.”

Player. God the way the used the word ‘player’ was enough to send another bought of fear coursing through their veins. Namjoon squeezed his eyes shut, having to squat down and put his head in his hands. The thought of Jungkook fighting to protect his friends was too much, and Joon didn’t even want to listen to whatever else this monster had to say.

“But anyways, let’s get right into the fun stuff,” he continued, voice perking up a bit like he was excited for what was to come. “The first game you’ll play involves your friend on the wall.” Their eyes drifted over to Hoseok, who looked like he was visibly starting to panic. “All of my traps and games will result in either life, or death, with no negotiation.”

Before he could even go on, they all began looking between one another again and shifting uncomfortably-- especially Hoseok and Taehyung in the most helpless positions. They couldn’t even convince themselves at this point this was all a joke; Jungkook’s body was serving exactly the purpose it was intended to.

“However, through cooperation and teamwork, you can all possibly get out of here alive… just don’t let the stress get to you too quickly. Our first few games are timed, so try to stay level headed, alright boys?” He spoke as if he really had pure intentions of helping them all escape with the advice, and his false kindness made them all feel even more sick.

“Once I am done speaking, a timer will begin counting down 30 minutes. My invention currently attached to your friend’s head is spring loaded and secured to both his upper and lower jaws from inside his mouth. After 30 minutes is up, if you four on the chains have not succeeded in disarming the device, his mouth will be permanently ripped open. Think of it like a... reverse bear trap.”

Hoseok made a strangled sobbing noise. Yoongi, Jimin, Namjoon and Seokjin felt like their stomachs were tied in knots.

“To disarm it, you will need to use the items I’ve left for you on the table underneath your friend in the middle of the room.” Their eyes shot to the table under Jungkook which they hadn’t even noticed until mentioned. “You should see a scale and two knives. The scale is connected to the timer counting down for the reverse bear trap to go off. Fill the scale with a combined pound of your own flesh, cut off your bodies with the knives, and the device unlocks.”

Yoongi hunched over like he was going to start throwing up again.

“Don’t even bother trying to approach him, or your friend strapped to the table yet. I assure you there is no other way to free them from their confinements, so I suggest you don’t waste your time.” Again, his ‘advice’ did nothing but anger and upset them all more.

“Once the device is either disarmed or goes off,” he paused, and they could practically hear him smiling at the thought of his invention being put to use. “Your collars will unlock and you will be allowed to roam freely. Another 30 minute timer will begin however, this one for your friend on the table. I like to call his ‘The Pendulum’.”

He sounded so proud of his clever little name for his trap, and the shift of focus to Taehyung made Jimin’s stomach lurch.

“The blades above him will begin slowly swinging and lowering. If you don’t free him soon enough, well… they won’t stop until they’ve hit the the table.” He was interrupted momentarily by Jimin trying to hold back a cry, but he went on speaking anyway.

“The key to unlock his restraints is inside of your friend with the peachy hair.”

Yoongi, Jimin and Seokjin’s eyes all flew to Namjoon, who immediately went pale.

“I guess he could try purging it back up, but it’s honestly probably been too long since I lodged it down his throat. It’s most likely at least to his small intestine by now.”

Now it was Namjoon’s turn to double over, feeling as if he was going to be sick. They all already knew where this was going.

“You’re allowed to use the knives already on the table if needed, but do whatever you wish to retrieve the key.” He paused and chuckled again. They all felt like they were going to explode if they heard that chuckle one more time.

“Once your friend under The Pendulum is either freed or killed, there will be a break before any more timed traps. I will speak to you again then.”

There was another interruption in his speech, as if he were pausing for dramatic effect. He let the reality of the situation weigh heavily on all of them briefly, but they would never be near ready to process the severity of any of this ‘game’.

“Alright boys, I would say let the games begin but uh...” the ominous voice chuckled darkly, and the five pairs of eyes which could immediately went to their young friend’s body still dangling right in front of them like some sort of fucked up carnival prize.

“It appears they already have.”

There was a loud clicking noise coming from near Hobi; the timer had begun.

Something inside of Yoongi shifted. He didn’t think twice before going over to the table in the center of the room and picking up one of the knives.

“Do you guys think this is going to be easier if we do it for each other? Or on our own?” His heart was racing as he looked towards the other three who were supposed to be helping, but they were all standing there, unmoving.

“Y-yoongi you’re seriously gonna-” Jimin began, but Yoongi was quick to cut him off.

“Stop wasting time and get over here! Do you fucking see Jungkook?! Does it look like we have a choice?!” Yoongi tried to keep his voice steady and harsh, but he failed and it cracked. All the panic he was feeling was showing no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, hands shaking as he held the knife. Yoongi couldn’t even look towards Hoseok, he just wanted to focus on freeing him. He knew that if he looked over and saw the fear in his best friend’s eyes, his heart would break and he wouldn’t be able to concentrate.

“He’s right we… fuck we have to,” Jin choked out, some common sense starting to come over him. He went up to the table near Yoongi, and Namjoon did the same. Jimin stayed back, almost as if he were paralyzed in his corner of the room.

“I-I remember some major arteries I learned in anatomy… The best way to do this is probably to focus near our shoulders and the backs of our thighs…” Yoongi was racking his brain for more information, suddenly really regretting sleeping through half of his required science course sophomore year. “They’re fleshy but don’t have huge arteries…. I think….” He added the second part in a whisper. “We should stay away from our calves and biceps… too much bleeding…” His voice got even quieter, clenching the blade tightly in his hand.

“Do… do you want one of us to-” Namjoon hesitantly reached out for one of the knives, but was interrupted by Jimin finally joining them at the table.

“Stop it! You aren’t seriously going to… to do that to him are you?!” Jimin faltered, but Namjoon grabbed the knife and ignored Jimin’s words.

“Yoongi, take your pants off and we’ll focus on a shoulder first, that way we can use the pants as tourniquets maybe? Cut them up into strips?” Jin was trying to think rationally like Yoongi, but Jimin was clearly growing too anxious and he began crying again. He was far too overwhelmed to come to terms with everything going on. Yoongi nodded at Jin’s words and began undoing his pants with shaky hands, Namjoon and Jin waiting to cut up the material. Jimin watched in horror as the three began cutting up the clothing with the knives, in disbelief over what they were about to do.

“Are you gonna fucking help or not Park? Hoseok doesn’t have much time,” Yoongi’s voice cracked again. Jimin blinked a few times, clearly having the most trouble out of the four trying accepting reality. After a moment, he slowly began helping ripping up strips of fabric.

“Joon, w-will you… fuck I don’t think I could do it to myself but we… we have to…” Yoongi ran his hand nervously over one of his own shoulders trying to mentally process… how the fuck does one willingly go about cutting off a piece of their own flesh? Namjoon’s eyes widened a bit, nervously glancing over to Jin.

“Namjoon if you can’t… maybe I could…” Jin let out a heavy breath, running a hand hastily through his hair.

“Fuck please just someone do it,” Yoongi’s voice broke again as he held out his shoulder. “W-we have to start or… or we won’t… we won’t finish…” he choked out, not even wanting to consider the possibility of Hoseok’s potential outcome. Namjoon wordlessly passed the knife over to Jin, not sure he could be the first one to go.

Jin gripped the knife firmly, using his free hand to steady Yoongi’s arm. Yoongi looked away from his shoulder; he could usually handle pain pretty well, but he knew this was going to be on a whole new level, and he didn’t want to see a second of it. He didn’t need the mental image of one of his best friends slicing off a piece of his own arm burned into his mind for the rest of his life. Namjoon offered his hand to Yoongi, and he took it and squeezed it, hard.

“Jimin, tie off the top of his shoulder with a piece of his pants. We can use the rest of the fabric as a bandage after I… um…” Jin let his words hang in the air, nodding towards the pile of fabric they had cut from Yoongi’s jeans. Jimin’s breath hitched in his throat and he hesitated, but did as he was instructed.

Minutes had passed, too many minutes. They were all spending too much time thinking, and not enough time doing.

“A-alright Yoongi are you rea-”

“Seokjin please just fucking do it,” Yoongi’s voice was strained from how hard he was clenching his jaw in preparation for the pain to come. Jimin tightened the knot of the makeshift tourniquet one last time before giving a subtle nod to Jin.

As he first began to press the blade of the knife into the pale skin of his friend’s shoulder, it was much more difficult to cut than Jin anticipated it would be. He told himself it had to be some sort of mental blockage; there was no way it was any harder to cut through human flesh than it would be to cut any other sort of meat, right? He took a deep breath, shaken from his thoughts by the pained hiss Yoongi let out.

“Fuck fuck fuck please just get it over with fuck please,” Yoongi choked out. Namjoon winced quietly from how hard Yoongi was grasping his hand, but of course he wasn’t going to complain.

“I’m going I’m going,” Jin replied shakily, continuing to make the cut, but this time applying a bit more pressure.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jimin stammered, peeling his eyes away from the rush of blood dripping down Yoongi’s arm. Yoongi knew exactly what Jimin meant, he could feel it: the oozing blood making it’s way down over his forearm to his fingertips, dripping onto the floor.

Eventually Jin did it, throwing the piece he’d cut off onto the scale as fast as he could-- he didn’t think he could stomach to hold it for much longer than he had to. Namjoon immediately released Yoongi’s hand, grabbing more of the ripped up pants to quickly fashion a bandage for his friend.

“Fuck that hurt just as much as you’d fucking think it would holy shit holy fuck,” Yoongi groaned, stumbling slightly from the severity of the pain. Jin had to try and hold him up as Joon worked on stopping as much of the bleeding as he could. Jimin had to force himself to tear his eyes away from the gaping hole he had just watched his friend gouge into his other friend’s own flesh, instead glancing at the number on the scale.

It was more than he expected, but it wasn’t enough.

Time was ticking away and they all silently knew it, wishing they had a way of knowing exactly how much was actually left.

Once Joon felt he had wrapped Yoongi’s arm up as best he could, Yoongi took a step back and shook out his arm as if it were a much less severe injury. He looked over at the scale hopefully, mouth immediately hanging open.

“That’s it?! Jesus christ it felt like you cut my whole goddamn arm off!!” He cried, throwing his unharmed arm up in frustration. Jin frowned and ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Yoongi I did what I could it’s…” he paused and licked his dry lips nervously. “It’s a lot harder than you probably think.”

Yoongi grumbled something to himself, pacing back and forth and few steps.

“Well? Who’s going next?” He asked bluntly, eyes jumping between the other three. They all glanced around nervously at each other before looking down at the ground, realizing none of them were prepared to volunteer to go next. Yoongi gaped at them, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He scoffed, picking up one of the knives and glaring at them. “I swear to god if one of you doesn’t offer yourselves I’m just gonna-”

“Yoongi stop, this is exactly what he wants,” Namjoon held his hands up in defense. “He wants us to get mad, turn on each other. But we need to stay as calm as we can and focus on-”

“Your focus should fucking be on saving your friend’s life Namjoon,” Yoongi spat, eyes filling with rage fueling from his frustration.

“Yoongi, he’s probably right,” Jimin barely whispered, keeping his eyes low and away from Yoongi’s fury filled ones.

“Oh, so now you have something to say Jimin? I don’t see you jumping up to help get Hoseok out of that-”

“Guys please stop,” Jin cut Yoongi off, but it was no use. The stress of the situation was finally getting to a breaking point, snapping something inside of Yoongi. Before Seokjin could say anything else, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jimin were all bickering around him, and Jin ended up getting in on it too. Insults and harsh words were flying about, getting so lost in the argument even more time slipped away from them.

At some point Yoongi’s eyes flicked over towards Hoseok, who looked void of any and all emotion from his position on the wall. He looked as if he had accepted his fate.

“Guys… guys!” Yoongi raised his voice, finally putting an end to the fighting.

“If one of you doesn’t just volunteer just… just fucking start on my leg or something… we’re running out of time!” His voice sounded strangled, so unbelievably desperate to get his best friend out of that… thing. There was a moment of silence, only filled with Yoongi’s heavy breathing from how worked up he was.

Yoongi and Hoseok’s friendship went back even before university. They grew up in the same hometown and attended the same high school, both sort of outcasts in their own ways who naturally gravitated towards one another. It wasn’t surprising to anyone that they’d decide to go to the same college as well, like two peas in a pod, never straying too far from one another.

Bile rose in Yoongi’s throat at the thought of getting out of that place, and not being able to take Hoseok with them.

“You’re right Yoongi,” Jin mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Here, why don’t you guys do my leg instead. I guess the back of the thigh like Yoongi said would-”

There was another audible click from near Hoseok.

It’s a part of human nature to turn your attention towards any loud or unanticipated sound, and that’s exactly what all four of them did out of pure instinct. In return, they all got to witness the reverse bear trap in its full glory.

What they saw was nothing they would have ever willingly watched.

The amount of blood that flew towards them was part of what startled them the most, splattering so far it was almost impressive in a sickening way.

And the sound… oh god the sound… the crack... It was nothing compared to the sound of a regular bone breaking, there was more… more ripping.

Jimin immediately screamed and began sobbing, burying his face in his hands to shield his eyes from the horrific sight before them. Yoongi fell to his knees, every ounce of willpower in his body to keep going completely drained away in a matter of seconds. Namjoon and Seokjin stared at one another, trying to do anything but listen to the sounds still coming from Hoseok, a heart wrenching realization washing over them all that this death was not quick, or painless.

Their time to react to Hoseok was brief, shaken from their short -lived grief with another click, this time from Tae’s side of the room.

The blades began swinging.

Taehyung had stayed quiet through the whole ordeal of attempting to free Hoseok. By what he was able to hear he could only imagine everything that was going on, and there were silent tears streaming down his cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut when the blades above him started moving, hope of being saved diminishing by the second-- if they couldn’t handle what they needed to do for Hobi… Taehyung had to admit to himself that he wasn’t sure they’d be able to do it for him either.

Part of him tried so very hard to hold onto the tiniest little bit of hope that Jimin would make all the difference.

It was then that the collars around their necks suddenly unlocked, just as they’d been told they would, and Jin, Namjoon, and Jimin all took them off and threw them as far as they could into their respective corners. Yoongi’s brows furrowed, hands reaching up and fiddling with the thick metal.

“What the… mine… mine isn’t coming off.” His voice sounded pathetically weak from the emotions caught in his throat as he tried to push Hobi out of his mind. Despite how badly he wanted to give up, he knew this was no time to quit… he still had four other friends and his own life to help save.

“Hey what the fuck?!” Namjoon yelled, looking around the room for whatever source their kidnapper had previously addressed them from. “You said that after that thing went off-” Yoongi stood up and waved his hands as if to shush Namjoon, though his face was still slightly twisted in confusion as his fingers tried to work around the metal constricting his neck.

“Just don’t fucking worry about this stupid thing right now I can still help… We can’t let time get away from us this time.” Yoongi swallowed around the lump in his throat as his eyes accidentally found their way to Hoseok’s now almost completely limp body, tearing them away to shift his focus to Taehyung.

The moment Jimin was out of the collar and able to walk around, he was by Taehyung’s side. Jimin started sobbing again and buried his face in Taehyung’s chest, which caused Tae’s heart to shatter into a million pieces.

“Baby, please,” Tae’s voice was strained, wanting nothing more than to be able to caress Jimin’s cheek in that moment. “Please, if you stay over here by me how will you even be able to help get me out?” There was a sad attempt at playfulness to his tone, an attempt which miserably failed.

Jimin sniffled a few times before standing up, backing away from Taehyung and going against every fiber of his being telling him not to leave his side. Jimin realized the blades were most certainly descending, and it wasn’t even safe for him to stay so close. He leaned in to press a quick yet passionate kiss to his lover’s lips before walking back over to the other three. They were mumbling to each other huddled near Yoongi, since obviously he couldn’t move around as much as the others.

All of the emotions, fear, worry, and tension that had once filled the room so thickly they made it difficult to breathe were now gone. Everyone’s brains were so fried from overstimulation and exhaustion that it would take too much energy to do anything other than focus on doing what needed to be done.

“S-sorry I-I was just-” Jimin began sputtering but Seokjin cut him off.

“Don’t worry Jimin it’s fine,” he spoke flatly, staring at Yoongi with a look Jimin couldn’t quite read. Namjoon was pacing back and forth next to them, one hand running over his face and the other tightly wound into his own hair. Jimin frowned, a feeling of uneasiness settling in his stomach; clearly the other three had been discussing their next move extensively in the short time he went over by his boyfriend.

“Jimin we um… we’re gonna need your help more this time,” Seokjin licked his lips, trying to think of the right words.

“We… we uh…” Yoongi coughed, not ready to say out loud what had already been decided. “Namjoon said he wants me to try and cut the key out of him.”

Jimin’s eyes cartoonishly widened. There were so many words being left unsaid between the group… so many realities no one wanted to even begin to accept.

“N-Namjoon are… are you sure?” Jimin didn’t even know why he bothered asking something so obvious. He knew his older friend well enough to know this was most definitely a decision he felt sure of, and Jimin could tell by the way Namjoon was anxiously pacing.

Namjoon knew that there were very few ways this could end for him, and if saving one of his friends was one of the results, he wanted it to end that way. His heart felt heavy with the knowledge he hadn’t done enough to save Hoseok… that none of them even had the chance to do anything for Jungkook… he wasn’t going to let Taehyung fall victim to the same fate.

“Come on, we’re wasting time,” Namjoon breathed, going towards the table they had only deserted moments before. He accidentally looked at Jungkook’s face while he approached, wincing audibly. The other three solemnly followed him, each still having trouble themselves ignoring their young friend’s body hanging right before them.

Seokjin explained to Jimin that it was going to be the two of them to hold Namjoon down, and Yoongi was going to do all the dirty work.

“He’s probably going to try to flail a lot… it’s going to be hard,” Jin stated, looking into Jimin’s eyes for any sign of hesitation. Jimin was visibly scared, but Jin wasn’t sure if it was over what they were about to take part in, or knowing how the potential result of the following event was going to either save or kill his boyfriend.

The group of four settled on the floor, Namjoon lying shirtless between Seokjin and Jimin, and Yoongi kneeling to one side of Namjoon’s torso. Jin had both of his arms wrapped securely around Joon’s legs, and Jimin had his arms under Joon’s shoulders to hold his arms tightly above his head. Yoongi clutched the knife firmly, not even knowing where to begin.

“Yoongi, you’re wasting time,” Namjoon’s voice sounded heart breakingly defeated. A small part of him was still trying to convince himself that the quicker they did this, the quicker they’d get Taehyung out, the quicker they’d be told what to do next in order to escape, and maybe if it all happened fast enough they’d be able to get him to an emergency facility before he bled out.

A larger part of him knew that was very unlikely.

It was Namjoon’s words that shifted Yoongi into gear. He had already lost two friends today, and if they didn’t do this to Namjoon, that would undeniably make four.

Yoongi knew that by doing this they could get Tae out, and saving one life was better than losing two.

Yoongi did everything almost robotically, mind numb at that point to everything going on. Jimin couldn’t look, just holding Namjoon’s arms as tightly as he could and not focusing on the pained sounds coming from his friend. Unfortunately in such a position Jimin was vulnerable to Namjoon’s clawing and grabbing hands, which were obviously instinctively trying to stop what was happening to him. Jin actually watched, death grip on Namjoon’s legs unfaltering.

Yoongi thought maybe if he focused his vision solely on what was directly in front of him, he could try and convince himself he was working on a farm or some shit and gutting an animal. Within moments of beginning the task couldn’t even kid himself.

Who in their right mind would do something like this to an animal without putting a bullet through it’s skull first? Even slaughterers treated their meat more humanely than the way Yoongi’s trembling hands were digging through Namjoon’s insides.

In hindsight, Namjoon wondered why he hadn’t asked them to just kill him first.

Yoongi’s only reaction to finding the key was the parting of his lips, and Jin looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to make the cut necessary to fully remove it.

It dawned on Yoongi, sitting on the cold cement floor with his hands literally inside of his friend’s body, that the final cut would be the most fatal one. If he took the key out of Namjoon’s body, any and all hope of saving his life even if they got out quick enough would be gone. Yoongi hadn’t opened any of his internal organs yet, but he could feel the hardness of the key as his fingers pressed against the walls of Namjoon’s intestines.

He needed to cut open his intestinal wall to remove the key.

A stifled sob came from Jimin. Seokjin ripped his eyes away from Namjoon’s insides to see what had caused the sound from Jimin, realizing the younger had been watching the blades which were slowly lowering towards his boyfriend this whole time.

And they were getting close.

“Done.” Yoongi’s hands were trembling as he held up the key, the small piece of once tinted gold metal now coated in a thick layer of blood. Jimin abruptly let go of Namjoon’s arms, snatching the key from Yoongi’s fingers and running over to Taehyung’s side.

Jimin’s hands were shaking almost as bad as Yoongi’s as he fumbled with the key in the locks of Taehyung’s restraints, the slippery blood making the task all the more difficult. The moment every restraint was removed Taehyung rolled off the table, the blades mere inches from his body by that point; if he had sat up just the slightest bit they would have gone right into him.

Jimin and Taehyung collapsed onto the floor in each other’s arms. Tae didn’t think he’d ever held his lover so tightly than he did in that moment, Jimin’s smaller body wracking with sobs.

Seokjin and Yoongi stayed silent, the tiniest of waves of relief coming over them knowing nothing for the moment was time sensitive.

Freed from his confinements, Taehyung stood up (after giving Jimin a moment to collect himself) and was finally able to see everything he had missed from his position on the table which had obscured his view.

He felt like he was going to faint as his eyes jumped around the room, thankful Jimin was by his side to catch him as he stumbled. He saw their centerpiece first: Jungkook’s body. Taehyung had been able to see it from the beginning, barely out of his peripheral vision, but fully coming face to face with it now was like nothing he could have ever began to prepare himself for. His eyes then made their way just past his youngest friend to Hoseok.

The horrifying sight before him of his friend’s mutilated face was almost enough to make him wish he were still strapped to the table.

It was when he finally looked over to where Yoongi and Seokjin were still kneeling on the floor that Taehyung felt sobs bubbling up in his throat.

The image of Namjoon lying on the floor, unmoving, abdomen crudely ripped apart, surrounded by a pool of his own blood, was one which would haunt Taehyung’s dreams for the rest of his waking days... but more so from the knowledge that Namjoon had put himself in that position willingly to save Taehyung’s own life.

Taehyung’s head was spinning, and Jimin had to hold an arm firmly around his boyfriend’s waist to keep him upright. Tae had so many questions, yet he already had answers for many of them. He had been conscious the whole time on the table, he heard everything that had gone on perfectly clear… he just didn’t want to admit any of it was really happening.

Three of his closest friends in the whole world were dead, and there was absolutely nothing he could have done to help save them.

The anguish of such a realization was like a knife directly through his heart, and actually caused him physical pain (which was probably more so from the fact that his body was currently going into full blown panic mode). His hand reached up and clutched at his chest as he glanced towards Yoongi and Seokjin on the floor near Namjoon. He usually looked to his older friends for guidance, but he had never seen them look so weak and defeated in his entire life. It was mortifying.

Yoongi stared into the space in front of him, completely detached from the world around them. He clenched his hands into fists then flexed them all the way out, repeating the action several times. The thick coating of Namjoon’s blood on his skin was starting to dry, and he was mindful of the way it made his fingers stick together. He felt dirty, and it wasn’t from the copious amounts of blood stained all over his body.

There was so much mourning to be done between the four, so many emotions they would never be able to properly handle or release, but the solemn mood was cut far too short. There was a sound coming from the further side of the room where Hoseok’s body was still mounted on the wall. One of the industrial metal doors, both of which had almost been entirely forgotten about until that moment, made a sort of whirring noise like lock mechanisms were being opened.

The group of four looked at each other curiously. They knew their kidnapper said they would receive further instruction after a short break, so no one was sure if approaching the door was a good idea.

A heavy silence hung over them for minutes and no one moved, almost as if all the mental and physical exhaustion had paralyzed them.

“Should… should we open it?” Jimin’s voice was barely above a whisper, even more strained than it had been before from the sobbing that had overcome him when he finally got to Taehyung. Seokjin stood up.

“He’s gotta say something if we go in there… right?” He proposed, nodding for the couple to follow him since Yoongi was still bound to his corner of the room. The room seemed even more eerily quiet than it had ever been as the sound of Jin’s boots scuffing against the concrete echoed around them. Taehyung gave Jimin’s hand a reassuring squeeze before pulling him along to follow Jin.

The door was uncomfortably close to Hoseok’s body, and it took all of their willpower to not look at it. Jin grabbed onto the wide handle of the door, thankful once he realized that opening it would block their view of Hobi’s body. He lugged the door open, and four hearts immediately dropped at the sound of a timer somewhere in the room starting, a sound they were sad they recognized and had heard too many times already.

“What the fuck!” Yoongi suddenly screamed and three pairs of eyes looked over to him, stomachs tying into knots over the new site they were faced with.

In Yoongi’s corner of the room, where the chain his collar was attached to connected to the wall, two horrifyingly large blades had projected from the corners of the walls parallel to the floor. Yoongi was now standing, realizing his chain was shortening and he was being pulled towards the blades which were perfectly level with his neck.

He was being dragged in to be beheaded.

Before anyone else could say anything over Yoongi’s distraughtness, a bone-chilling voice filled the room again.

“Ah, I see you triggered the next timer! Did you enjoy your break?” His voice was sickeningly sweet, but not enough of a facade to begin mildly fooling any of them. Yoongi was moving at a sluggish pace, but it didn’t matter to the other three, they had already all too painfully learned that time really was of the essence.

Jin and Jimin were staring at Yoongi with gaping mouths, but Tae was getting impatient waiting for further instruction. He wanted to know how to get Yoongi out, and he wanted to know now.

Taehyung let go of Jimin’s hand and stuck his head into the room through the door which Jin had just opened, but was immediately confused by what he was faced with. The room was small and simply contained a folding table with some sort of tank on it. It was about the size of a 20 gallon fish tank, filled almost halfway with what looked like razor blades. Only razor blades… what looked like probably hundreds of razor blades… and also filled to the very brim with liquid.

“Your friend will continue to move at this pace, and I’m actually not sure how long it will take for his head to be removed.” Seokjin and Jimin snapped out of their trance and joined Taehyung, trying to hear whatever their kidnapper was attempting to explain to them over Yoongi’s confused cries for help.

“His collar can only be removed with a key, a key which lays at the bottom of that fish tank. But if you-”

Taehyung didn’t wait for any further instruction, stepping forward and going to plunge his hand directly in. He could handle a bloody hand if it meant saving Yoongi. He needed to do something, he needed to be of some sort of help, still feeling powerless from not being able to do anything previously.

Seokjin stopped him, grabbing Tae’s arm and roughly yanking him back.

“Let him finish talking you idiot!” Jin scolded, and the voice just laughed.

“Ah, so eager, but your friend is right,” he explained, chuckling darkly. “The liquid filling the tank along with those razors is my own personal concoction, but what you mainly need to be worried about is the high concentration of cyanide. Anyone here take chemistry?”

They could hear it in his voice, that smirk again. He was being smug, he knew exactly what he was doing, and he was loving every second of it.

It was all part of his game.

“You need to maneuver around those razor blades carefully. Even the slightest nick will allow my wonderful mixture access to your bloodstream, and keep an open wound submerged too long and well…” He paused for another chuckle. That fucking chuckle.

“Cyanide suffocates from the inside out, starving your blood cells of oxygen. Let those oxygen lacking cells become too numerous and get to your brain? Cardiac arrest and a coma are sure to ensue, usually within moments. A beautifully painful way to go from when I’ve witnessed it occur.”

Taehyung already felt like he was suffocating, choking on a lump stuck in his throat. If Seokjin hadn’t stopped him…

“So I suggest taking your time retrieving that key!” His voice was almost sing-song-like. He stayed quiet for a second, long enough for Yoongi’s loud mouth cursing up a rage filled storm in the other room to ring through their ears once more.

“But not too much time.”

There was no time to think strategy, not with the unknown element of how long they really had to save Yoongi. For a split second Seokjin considered how eager Taehyung had been to stick his hands in the tank at first, but now knowing what was at stake, Jin knew his younger friend would not be fit for the task. Tae was impatient, and would undoubtedly try to go too fast and cut himself up on the razors.

“I’m doing it,” Jin stated, stepping up to the tank and dipping his hand in. It wasn’t a question; Seokjin felt that out of the three of them he’d perform the best at this sort of thing, and a subconscious part of him also knew he shouldn’t ask the couple to separate themselves so soon after being reunited.

“Seokjin wait please! I wanted to-” Jin wouldn’t give Tae time to speak, plus he already had his hand in the liquid almost elbow deep.

“This isn’t up for debate, please just be quiet and let me focus,” Jin mumbled. His fingertips began delicately pushing at some of the more superficial blades, testing to see how easy or difficult this was going to be.

Difficult. He determined very quickly it was going to be difficult.

“Jin, please be careful,” Jimin whispered, one hand anxiously clutching onto the fabric of Taehyung’s t-shirt. He was fully aware of how stupidly pointless it was for him to say, but the silence hanging over them as Jin attempted to focus was deafening. Even Yoongi had gone quiet, having heard all of their kidnapper’s instructions and being able to partially see what was going on past Tae and Jimin’s bodies blocking his view of Seokjin through the doorway of the small room.

Now it was Yoongi’s turn to feel helpless. For a control freak like him, being in a position where his fate solely lied in the hands on others was mind numbingly difficult to process. He was also a realist however, and gave up his frantic yelling the moment he began to realize he had no choice in the situation at hand.

All he could do was wait, choosing to keep his back to the blades he knew were gradually inching closer to his neck.

After the first full minute, Tae couldn’t handle it. He stepped forward away from Jimin and went up to Jin’s side.

“Seokjin please, maybe I can help. Just let me try and-”

“Taehyung shut up!” Jin snapped, not nearly intending on sounding as harsh as he did, but he was really feeling the pressure and didn’t need a presence so close to his side making things more stressful. Jimin reached out and pulled Tae back towards him closer to the doorway, snaking his arms around his boyfriend’s waist to keep him in place. Taehyung’s body immediately felt compelled to relax into Jimin, so used to usually just being able to melt their bodies together into one, but there wasn’t a single cell inside of him at the moment with the ability to relax even if he wanted to.

Jin hadn’t ever concentrated so hard on a single task in his entire life. It seemed there was no way to do it correctly, his fingers fearful of accidentally applying too much pressure or making a wrong move.

“Guys… how’s it looking?” Yoongi’s voice was a surprise to all, but Jin didn’t shift his focus away from his hand inside of the tank. Jimin and Taehyung looked back at their older friend, and Jimin’s eyes widened when he realized how close Yoongi was getting to the blades.

They both turned back around towards Jin. Yoongi was moving faster than they previously thought, and was getting too close for comfort.

The couple didn’t say anything, realizing Yoongi probably hadn’t been facing the wall on purpose. They didn’t want to give away on their faces or in their voices the hopelessness that had come over them when they turned to look at him, but Jimin’s eyes widening the slightest was enough. All the answers Yoongi needed were embedded in the silence from their lack of response.

Yoongi’s knees began shaking slightly, and he was actually kind glad the two had turned back around. He was the type of guy who still needed to hold onto some sort of pride in any situation, even if it was the most miniscule amount. He would have felt humiliated if they had seen the look of defeat that had washed over his face.

It was the look of someone so weak and beaten down, they were ready to accept their doomed fate.

Taehyung’s mind was racing, facing an internal dilemma. Should he tell Jin how little time their friend had left? Or would that just pressure him too much more? Before he could even answer his own questions, Jimin spoke up.

“Jin… Jin h-he’s close,” Jimin whispered so quietly he wasn’t even sure Seokjin would be able to hear his words. Jin’s movements stilled, thoughts reeling as he took in a deep, long breath.

Neither Taehyung nor Jimin expected what their older friend did next.

Seokjin plunged his second hand into the tank, both hands immediately diving into the mass of razors.

“Jin what are you doing!” Jimin cried, both he and his boyfriend stumbling forward to try and pull Jin away. It was too late, Jin’s face contorted and he hissed in pain, sealing his own fate as his hands worked their way deeper into the tank.

“Back up,” he hissed, fighting against the two grabbing at his arms and forcefully digging his hands further and further down.

“Jin please,” Jimin choked on a sob, but Tae already knew Jin had made his decision. The determination on his older friend’s face as he searched through the pile of blades for the key that would free Yoongi… Jin knew exactly what he was doing. Taehyung willed himself to step away and give Jin room, gripping Jimin’s arm and taking him back with him.

“Give him the space he wants,” Tae’s voice was strained and Jimin’s eyes scanned over his boyfriend’s face in shock. He couldn’t believe Taehyung was expecting them to just stand there and let Seokjin do this to himself, but Jimin could tell Tae wasn’t happy about the decision either. Tae looked like he was clenching his jaw so tightly it must have hurt, and his expressionless face had turned to stone. Jimin reached a hand up to cup Taehyung’s jaw, pressing his own face into the crook of his lover’s neck so he didn’t have to look at Seokjin.

Another full two minutes had gone by, one since Jin began searching more aggressively. It felt like both of his hands were on fire from the burning sensation of the chemicals rushing into his self-inflicted wounds, and he knew there was absolutely no going back now.

30 more seconds. It seemed like the razors were indefinite. No matter how hastily he grabbed handfuls of them, feeling the way the unforgiving slivers of metal dug into his palms, every time he moved them to the side more would just fall back down into the small ditch he was making.

30 more seconds. Jin couldn’t even see his hands. Maybe it was because his vision was starting to go blurry. Their kidnapper was right, it had only taken minutes from the first small cut for him to begin feeling the effects of the toxins entering his system.

45 more seconds. Jin could hear the couple nervously mumbling to each other, Jimin sounding more and more distraught, like sobs were catching in his throat with every breath he took. Jin was starting to lose feeling in his hands, but maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

He forced his hands the rest of the way, the remaining blades scraping into his skin hardly even eliciting any sensation. Through bleary vision he almost missed the reflective shine of the key, but thankfully noticed it and directed his hands towards the more desirable piece of metal. His weak fingers struggled and grasped it clumsily, but with great effort he was able to retrieve it and toss it out of the tank in Taehyung and Jimin’s general direction before collapsing onto the floor.

The effects of the poison were hitting him hard. He felt like all of his limbs were aflame but numb at the same time, and it felt like his face and chest were being crushed by a thousand tons. His whole body was trembling as it went into shock, and he began writhing. Taehyung and Jimin just watched momentarily, horrified. Jin’s hands were completely mutilated and oozing blood all over the floor surrounding him.

“Fucking get him out,” Jin was barely able to choke out, feebly nodding towards the key on the ground near Jimin’s foot.

The couple was frozen from the trauma of their eldest friend’s state for only a second, Tae scrambling to grab the key and yanking Jimin out of the room. He didn’t want to look at Jin any longer anyway. They had to hurry, they had to save Yoongi, they didn’t have any time to-

Jimin was screaming before Tae’s brain could even begin to process what they returned to the room to see.

This couldn’t have been happening, there was no way the universe could be this unfair to them. Jin had just given up his own life trying to save Yoongi’s… how could there have not been enough time?

Jimin broke down, falling to his knees and covering his face with his hands as his entire body shook with sobs. Taehyung couldn’t pull his eyes away from Yoongi’s head, which was now separated from the rest of his body. It didn’t even look real, save for the appallingly large pool of blood surrounding the portion of Yoongi’s body pulled into the corner.

“He didn’t even say anything, he didn’t even call for us…” Tae was speaking more to himself, not eve sure Jimin could hear him over his crying. Taehyung was stunned. It had to have been slow, it had to have been painful... They’d seen the rate the chain had been drawing Yoongi into the corner…

Taehyung laughed. His laugh was usually melodious, warming like a cup of hot tea on a cold winter’s day. But now it was a laugh void of any and all emotion, simply a cover up, a pained expression of the thought that had popped into his head.

Taehyung knew his older friend too well. Of course Yoongi would go quietly. Even at times like this his ego was far too large to want his friends to see him in such a weakened state… even in his last few moments.

Tae dropped the now useless key, the small piece of metal clinking against the floor too softly to be heard over his boyfriend’s sobbing. Taehyung somberly walked over to Jimin, crouching down and wrapping his arms around the smaller boy.

What more could he do? If you had asked the couple two days ago, they would have both eagerly told you they were all the other needed in the whole universe.

But now they only had each other, and they both felt nothing but emptiness.

Jimin had stopped crying within minutes. Every part of him just felt so unbelievably deadened, he was all cried out. He let Taehyung pull him in closer, their limbs tangling together on the cold cement floor, Jimin half on top of Tae’s lap, just holding one another.

Everything inside of Taehyung was building, bubbling up like a Coke bottle filled with mentos then tightly sealed off. He could feel it in his face and throat; that embarrassingly weak feeling when you know you’re about to cry but still try to hold it all in anyway. He sniffled, burying his face in Jimin’s neck.

Taehyung hated feeling weak.

He was supposed to be the strong one. He was supposed to be Jimin’s rock. He was supposed to hold their world together when it felt like everything was crumbling down around them.

But what did it even mean to stay strong at that point?

Jimin had gone through this with Taehyung before, moments where Tae was clearly trying too hard to put up a front that he was invincible. Jimin obviously didn’t expect such resilience from his boyfriend; Jimin knew what it meant to be human and to be vulnerable. He knew sometimes he had to coax it out of Tae, had to convince him it was okay to show those emotions he was so desperately trying to subdue. It was okay to be weak in front of him, and that’s what Jimin was there for.

Jimin reached a hand up and tangled his fingers gently in the hair at the base of Taehyung’s neck, massaging the soft skin lightly. He didn’t really need to say anything, as there was nothing to even be said at that point.

What Jimin felt when he felt the first sob jolt its way though Tae’s body, could possibly be described as relief.

“I’m here Tae, you still have me Tae, you’re always going to have me Tae,” Jimin mumbled the words into his boyfriend’s temple, using his entire being to hold Taehyung together as he fell apart beneath him.

A small part of Jimin was afraid he was making a promise he couldn’t keep, and it showed in the way his voice cracked while he spoke.

After everything they had just been put through, Jimin wished that that moment would last forever. He didn’t want to know what would come next, he didn’t want to get up just to be forced back into the reality of the room filled with death. If Jimin could spend the rest of his life on the floor with Tae, tightly holding onto each other like they’d shatter into a million pieces if they let go, he would.

A clicking noise came from across the room. The second door had finally opened.

“Tae… Taehyung,” Jimin cupped his lover’s cheek in his hand and guided his tear stained face from the crook of his neck. “T-the other door just opened.” Jimin’s voice was barely a whisper, he didn’t want to get optimistic in the slightest. He didn’t even want to consider the possibility that the door could lead to their freedom, as there was no room left for hope here. Tae sniffled a few more times, wiping his cheeks and eyes with the palms of his hands. Jimin lovingly used his thumbs to wipe away the few stray tears he missed.

“A-are you ready?” Taehyung asked the question even though he knew neither of them ever would be. They were both leaving the same thoughts unspoken.

Who was to say what would lie beyond that door? And who was to say either of them would survive whatever they might have to face…

Jimin nodded, standing up once Taehyung laced their fingers together. They both took a moment to absorb everything around them, saying silent goodbyes to their friends. With heavy hearts, they approached the newly unlocked door, hand in hand.

Taehyung was the one to open the door, but they were both a bit surprised by what they were faced with.

Could they be considered surprised at that point? What had they even been expecting? The outside? No, that would be too simple compared to every elaborate detail put into this whole ordeal. Their kidnapper himself? No, he was probably too cowardly to actually partake in any of his own dirty work, which was why he remained anonymous behind hidden cameras and speaker systems.

But they were in fact surprised, because when Taehyung gingerly pulled open the heavy metal door, the first thing they noticed was that this new room was filled with natural light.

It certainly wasn’t much, but it was enough to make their hearts swell at their first glimpse of the outside world in who knew how long. The room was about the same size as the room they were already in, but this one had small rectangular windows lining the tops of the walls close to the ceiling, allowing for a tiny amount of sunshine to seep in. The positions of the windows hinted to them they were underground, maybe in a basement, but also gave them a teasing sense they were inching closer to escaping.

Tears welled in Tae’s eyes at the realness of the sunlight. What time was it? What day was it? How long had they been in that horrible, horrible room?

Jimin tightly squeezed Taehyung’s hand, pulling him from the swarm of questions swirling through his mind. Tae turned to the side to look at his boyfriend, heart dropping at the terrifyingly pale look of Jimin’s face. Tae had been so overcome by emotion just from the sunlight that he hadn’t even looked at the rest of the room. He followed Jimin’s gaze, eyes landing on the table before them.

It was the same kind of table that was under Jungkook’s body in the main room, the one which had the scale and the knives intended for them to butcher one another with. It was the same kind of table that was in the other side room, the one which had the tank filled with poison Jin had fallen victim to. But this table only had two, simple items on it.

A handgun, and a single bullet.

There was also another door across the room, but it wasn’t a prison-like industrial one as all the previous had been. No, this was a plain wooden door, one like you’d find in any average house or apartment... a door which reminded them too much of home.

But then their focus was back on the table, the gun, and the singular bullet. Waves of nausea came over them at what it could possibly mean, but they didn’t need to consider it for themselves much longer, because before they knew it an all too familiar voice was addressing them once again.

“Congratulations, your freedom lies right beyond that last door.” He sounded almost disappointed in a way, like he didn’t want the game to come to an end. “I’ve been watching you two, and I had a feeling you wouldn’t leave each other’s sides.”

The death grip they had on each other’s hands only tightened, and Taehyung pursed his lips. Tears were brimming and threatening to spill onto his cheeks once again.

“I regret to inform you that I will only be unlocking the final door when that bullet puts an end to one more life.”

Taehyung was shaking, ears refusing to hear the words being spoken to him.

“Please,” he choked out, not even sure if he could be heard by their kidnapper. “Please don’t make us do this, haven’t we been through enough?” If the man could hear Taehyung’s strangled pleas, he chose to ignore them and kept talking.

“The death may not be committed by suicide. I am watching.” There was a lightness to his tone that was completely unnatural, the levels of fucked up someone had to be to say those things incomprehensible. “There will be no time limit. A shot through the skull will be the least painful, in case you had any doubts.”

The silence that followed his instructions was ear splitting. The couple stood motionless, hands still locked together like vices, staring at the gun in front of them.

There weren’t words in the dictionary to describe the emptiness inside of them, the heaviness of the grief weighing them down, how broken and defeated they felt... They had been through so much together, and not just in the last 12 hours. Jimin and Taehyung were soulmates, and they had known that from the moment they fell in love.

But suddenly they were star-crossed lovers, doomed to go on with life without the other by their side.

“Kill me, Taehyung.”

Jimin’s voice was so quiet, Taehyung almost missed what he said. Once Tae was able to register the statement he wasn’t sure what hurt more, the words themself or the ease with which Jimin spoke them.

Another bout of silence came over the room, thick and uncomfortable and begging to be broken. Everything Taehyung could possibly say in that moment refused to come out, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

“Taehyung, you have to kill me.” Jimin repeated himself, unsure if Tae heard him the first time. Taehyung did, he just refused to acknowledge any sort of reality for the time being.

“Jimin I absolutely cannot do that there is no way-”

“You have to. Taehyung you have to and you will.”

Taehyung had never heard Jimin speak so firmly and confidently, even through the defeat laced in his tone. Tae felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest at Jimin’s decision as to how this was going to go.

“Listen to me Tae,” Jimin’s voice was still somewhat shaky but he chose to ignore it, stepping in front of his lover to take hold of both of his hands in his own slightly smaller ones. “You should know by now that I can not live without you. In fact, I probably wouldn’t still be alive if you hadn’t come into my life two years ago.” Tears were welling in Tae’s eyes and he just continually shook his head, refusing to come to terms with their situation. Yet at the same time, he knew Jimin was right. When the couple met two years ago Jimin was at a very low point in his life, and it was partially in the way Taehyung helped him through such a rough patch that they fell in love.

“You are stronger than me. You have always been stronger than me,” Jimin went on, reaching a hand up to catch the tears that were falling from Tae’s eyes with his fingers. “If you are the one to leave this place, life will go on for you. And I know you don’t want to admit that right now, especially… especially without the others,” Jimin’s voice cracked at the first actual out loud acknowledgment of the other’s deaths. “But it will. You are truly the most resilient person I’ve ever met, and you’ll keep going. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard it’s going to be, but you’re Kim Taehyung and I know you’re going to find a way.” Now it was Jimin’s turn to let a few tears fall from his eyes.

“You have to be the one to live Tae, and you have to do it for me.”

Taehyung felt like he was falling, like the whole world was crumbling around him, yet he still found solace in his lover’s eyes. The way Jimin held his face, the way Jimin gently wiped away his tears, the way Jimin still somehow managed to have a smile on his face… His entire life was falling apart, but Jimin still managed to find a way to keep Taehyung grounded.

Yes, Jimin was smiling. He couldn’t help it. Even at such a dire time Jimin was so unbelievably fond of Taehyung, his heart so overwhelmingly filled with love for him… how could he not try to enjoy their last few moments together?

“Jimin, you’re asking me to shoot you,” Taehyung felt like he was suffocating, unable to process the words he had just said.

“I’m asking you to save yourself Taehyung. And I’m not even asking you to, I’m telling you to.” Jimin sniffled, turning his head to the side to wipe his eyes on the back of his hand.

Taehyung fell apart, giving in to every single emotion that he’d been trying so hard to suppress up until that moment. He pulled Jimin into his chest so tightly he practically smothered him, but Jimin didn’t mind in the slightest. He needed to feel Taehyung’s warmth one last time, he needed to feel his lover’s body pressed against his own.

In that moment, they were one. They weren’t two lovers in each other’s arms, saying goodbyes they never thought they would have to. They were a single entity, two halves of a whole unit unable to function without the other, but when they let go they wouldn’t be pieced back together ever again.

Jimin was the one to pull away from the embrace, craving to look into Taehyung’s eyes. He stared, taking in every last detail of his lover’s face; from his red, puffy eyes, to his tear-stained cheeks… the only thing he wished was that he could see his favorite boxy smile one last time. Nonetheless, Taehyung had never looked so beautiful to Jimin, and Jimin hoped he could hold onto the memory of his beauty into the afterlife.

Jimin leaned up for a kiss, pressing their lips together with such passion everything almost felt right. It was a kiss so deep and filled with love, for a split second he almost forgot where he was or the circumstances of their position. Taehyung reached up to cup a hand behind Jimin’s neck and draw him impossibly closer, trying to ignore the heartache that came over him as his brain reminded him this would be the last time he’d feel Jimin’s soft, plump lips moving against his own. Jimin broke the kiss, going against every part of him telling him to not to do just that.

“It’s time, Tae,” Jimin whispered, moving his hand up to comb his fingers through Taehyung’s tangled hair one last time, like he had done so many times before. The gesture was so familiar and warming, Taehyung knew Jimin had full intentions of doing it in the most comforting and affectionate way possible… but every ‘last’ hurt more and more.

Taehyung sniffed and shook his head, but he knew Jimin’s choice had already been made, and there was no other way this was going to end. Of course he would fall in love with the most selfless person on the face of the planet.

“We have to Taehyung, you have to get out of here. Please don’t stay a second longer than you have to. Just do it, and as soon as that door unlocks get out of here, you have to leave. You have to leave and you have to run and you have to promise me you’re not going to look back, not for a second.” Jimin used every ounce of strength left in him to keep his voice as steady as possible, keeping his eye contact with Taehyung firm. “Promise me that, Tae.”

It was truly impossibly for Taehyung to feel any more pain than he already was, so he just nodded his head.

“Okay Jimin, I promise.” The words felt like acid, foreign and wrong, buring Tae’s throat as he spoke them. He never thought he would have to say this type of goodbye to the love of his life.

Jimin gave Taehyung’s hand a squeeze, turning around and taking a few steps towards the table. Tae followed without letting go of Jimin’s hand. There was still an uncomfortable tension hanging between them, growing even heavier as they stood before the table in the center of the room.

“Do you… do you uh… know how…” Jimin couldn’t find the right words. Nothing was right in this situation, nor would anything be ever again.

Tae actually recognized the handgun, all of a sudden wishing he was blissfully ignorant and knew nothing about firearms. It was a Glock 27, the pumpkin spice latte of all guns, basic in every sense of the word.

And the bullet. The fact that there was only one bullet… Taehyung didn’t want to think that there was a chance he’d need more than one, praying Jimin wouldn’t suffer.

“Yeah,” Taehyung mumbled, trembling hands reaching out for the gun and bullet. He felt compelled to share the story that popped into his head, but this wasn’t the time for an anecdote about how his father taught him all about gun safety on a camping trip when he was 16. Taehyung released the magazine and slid in the bullet, hating the way his hands so easily remembered how to work the parts of a gun under such circumstances. He locked the magazine back in place, looking towards Jimin with tear filled eyes.

Taehyung felt the urge to kiss Jimin again; he wanted to do nothing more than pull his boyfriend in for a kiss and never let it end, but at the same time he knew they had already had their last kiss. Anything more would just make the pain intensify.

Jimin cautiously laced his fingers in between Taehyung’s once more, giving Tae a final opportunity to feel the way they fit together like two puzzle pieces. They molded together so well Taehyung knew he would never find someone whose hands fit into his own as perfectly as Jimin’s did, and his heart ached at the thought.

“I love you, Taehyung.”

“I love you too, Jimin…” Taehyung felt another sob bubbling up in his throat. “And I’m going to love you forever.”

Jimin almost audibly winced from Taehyung’s words, and he let go of his boyfriend’s hand. He knew that if he didn’t do so Taehyung would let them stand there forever, and Jimin knew he had to be the one to speed up this process or Taehyung would never get out of this torturous place.

Jimin walked over towards the door leading back to the room where all their friends bodies remained. For some reason he felt the need to be closer to them, his legs guiding him there on their own.

It hurt Tae to watch Jimin walk away. It hurt Tae even more to hold back all of the words he felt catching in his throat, but he knew he shouldn’t say anything else. He shouldn’t make it any harder to do what was about to be done.

Jimin kneeled down on the floor in the doorway, resting a hand on the cool metal of the frame. His eyes glanced around the room, fully desensitized to the disfigured bodies surrounding him.

’At least I’ll have you guys.’

He kept the thought to himself.

Jimin could hear Taehyung’s footsteps as he approached him from behind, able to tell from how loud and heavy they sounded that Tae was struggling to come closer.

For Taehyung, the click that rang through the room when he pulled back the slide of the handgun was almost like a shot through the heart in itself. Jimin sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth at the sound, fully knowing that bracing himself would be useless.

Taehyung rose the gun as he drew nearer, arm feeling as if it were being weighed down with bags of bricks. He stopped when he was about a foot away from Jimin, pressing the muzzle of the gun against the back of his head.

He wanted to say one last ‘I love you’, he wanted to apologize, and he had to clamp his free hand over his mouth as he almost let out a sob. He knew it would be worse for Jimin if he gave some sort of indication it was about to happen.

So Taehyung just pulled the trigger.

The sound of the gunshot alone was so ear splitting it hurt, but it was the silence that resonated afterwards that hurt Taehyung the most. Then Jimin’s body fell forward onto the concrete before him, and the sound it made as it hit the floor almost made Taehyung vomit.

He would never forget that sound, or sight.

Taehyung dropped the gun, unable to stop himself from staring at the gaping wound in the back of Jimin’s head. The bullet seemed to have went clean through from such close range, and in the most fucked up way possible Taehyung felt a slight sense of relief.

Jimin’s body was completely motionless, and Taehyung hoped it had happened quick enough that he didn’t feel any pain.

Taehyung was reminded that he had a promise to keep when he heard a click from across the room behind him. The final door had unlocked. He forced himself to look away from Jimin and darted across the room, dodging around the table, then swinging open the wooden door.

He was faced with a set stairs leading up, confirming his suspicion they had been in some basement this whole time. More importantly he was outside, holy shit he was outside. He sprinted up the steps, taking them two at a time, heart racing as he frantically looked around.

Trees. Nothing but trees. He was in the woods.

Taehyung started running. He ran until his legs arched and his lungs burned, but even then he didn’t stop running.

Taehyung ran, and he never looked back.

#bcgoct17 #BCGNet #bts angst #vmin angst #taemin angst #jin angst #yoongi angst #jhope angst #namjoon angst #jungkook angst #jimin angst #by kristen #tw gore #taehyung angst #hoseok angst #seokjin angst

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o0o-chibaken-o0o · 7 years

Note

Hi! Do you know of any fics where Harry and Draco are both Aurors and have to work together? I've read quite a few but haven't come across one in a while. Either permanently partners or firced together for a single case, both work for me. (Note: I have read everything by l0vegl0wsinthedark so, much as I love reading and rereading What Real Thing, I figured it would better to warn you :D Thank you so much for all of your recs, they are so, unspeakably helpful! :)

(Thank you @celticrose1989 and @awesomesauceuniverse for the requests!! I decided to combine these, since fics in which only Draco is an auror/cursebreaker are pretty rare. I was planning to also combine this with a request for just Auror!Harry (with miscellaneous Draco) to make a giant Auror Drarry list, but it ended up being ridiculously long, so that one will come later this weekend! This one is already super long as-is, so I’ve tried to limit my commentary to 2-3 lines. Let it be known that it was very difficult, hahaha.)

Auror/Cursebreaker Partner Drarry Recs

What Real Thing? by loveglowsinthedark / @l0vegl0wsinthedark (13K)- They don’t cuddle, they don’t talk about their relationship (or lack thereof) and they certainly never fall asleep in each other’s arms.I know you’ve already read it, but you can’t expect me to just not include this amazing sexy pining fluffy piece of wonderfulness in my auror rec list!!! It includes the BEST AIRPORT SCENE (not at an airport) EVER.

Higher and Higher (Temptation) by birdsofshore (28.5K)- Only Harry Potter could manage to put on a magical collar on impulse and find himself unable to take it off again. Now following Draco’s direct orders gives him intense pleasure, and Draco has a whole heap of troubles to deal with, not least the way Potter looks when the collar has him gasping with bliss. The whole situation would test the morals of a saint… and Draco’s no saint.THIS FIC!! EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED. I STILL REMEMBER CLICKING ON IT AND NEARLY ORGASMING RIGHT THERE and it totally does its description justice! Technically Draco is a cursebreaker here.

Two Weeks by shiftylinguini / @shiftylinguini (22K)- If Harry had to guess which out of he or his Auror Partner, and tentative new friend, Draco Malfoy, would turn out to have Veela ancestry, his answer would be: neither, because that is ridiculous. Finding out the answer is actually him, and that his Veela heritage is wreaking havoc on his ability to work, sleep, and above all be in the same room as Malfoy, is a surprise to say the least. But this is fine. Harry’s been through worse, and he can just sit this one out, regardless of how much his body is screaming for the one person he doesn’t want to ask for help. Can’t he?WONDERFUL FABULOUS YES TIMES 96382!! Veela!Harry but like, read it even if that’s not usually your thing. GREAT pining!!! Phone sex. P H O N E S E X.

Lift Your Open Hand by firethesound / @firethesound (19K)- With Draco Malfoy as his assigned partner for the next six weeks of Auror training, Harry had been prepared for things to go poorly. But getting themselves accidentally bonded to each other in the first twenty minutes of their very first assignment seemed going above and beyond, even for them.What could you possibly need that isn’t in this fic? Includes bonding, domesticity, bed sharing, and Nicolas Cage. Perfection

Sex on Legs in Six-Inch Heels by tessacrowley / @tessacrowley (10K)- Draco Malfoy is a brilliant freelance cursebreaker and the only one who can help the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with a very dangerous case, but more importantly, he’s wearing six-inch heels, and Harry cannot handle it, he really just can’t.One of the first fics I read and STILL one of the hottest! The sex is amazing, as is the fact that Draco wears (surprisingly practical!) heels and women’s clothing in general I LOVE IT SO MUCH

Highlands by Seefin / @seefin (16K)- The tent was a joke, that was basically the only explanation he could come up with as to why the Aurors would send he and Draco on a several-month mission with only their most basic model. Once, when Harry had been on one of the big ones, the kind of mission where there was a little Auror camp out in the wilderness, twenty or so tents all pitched practically on top of each other, he had slept in one with two stories. Actually it was more of a mezzanine level, but still. Their current one didn’t even have a fucking toilet. And if Harry were allowed to communicate with anyone other than Draco then he would definitely be lodging an official complaint right about now.This fic is so sweet and slow (despite being only 16K, idk how she does it!). I love the development of their relationship, and being forced into close quarters is especially w o n d e r f u l.

Little Talks by femmequixotic and noeon / @femmequixotic and @noeeon (11.5K)- Draco’s been shagging the Head Auror for months now, and he’s sure it’s just a fling. Until Harry asks him to a Quidditch match, that is, and things go horribly wrong.AAAH THE SEX. Also the adorableness! And the whatthefuckishappening a real DATE??? But THE SEX! And the fluff! Sorry I’m incoherent, just READ IT!

Something More by thusspakekate (9K)- After a night of heavy drinking, Harry Potter has a love bite the size of Wales on his neck and an unsigned note from the man who gave it to him in his pocket. The only problem? He can’t quite remember who he brought home with him the night before. And what’s got Draco Malfoy in such a strop?OMG pining in this one like crazy. It’s obvious why from the summary, right?? Yeah? Just….you’re already feeling the angst, I know it, just read it and let it be resolved

One Big Misunderstanding by agentmoppet / @agentmoppet (7K)- Draco will be the first to admit that his choices aren’t particularly clever, especially when they involve Potter, but this has to be the worst one yet.OH, DRACO. Poor baby sends Harry and Blaise off on a date together and then becomes a jealous wreck and it’s beautiful.

You Send Me (Honest You Do) by firethesound (37K)- As far as potion accidents go in general, and deaging incidents go in particular, Draco knew this could have been so much worse. Harry only lost about ten years, and all his memories are still intact. But the sight of him looking as if he’s stepped straight out of Draco’s Hogwarts memories has dredged up a whole mess of complicated feelings Draco thought he’d buried years ago, and Draco really doesn’t know what to do with any of it.This is a GREAT use of the deaging trope (without being at all creepy btw, so don’t worry!), and Harry has tattoooooos!! Also more pining pining pining

Tales from the Special Branch Series by femmequixotic (304K so far)- When Gavin Robards asks him to form Special Branch seven-four-alpha, Harry Potter knows they’ll have to work outside the confines of the law–even though they are the law.Are you tired of me reccing this series yet? TOO BAD I’LL NEVER STOP MUAHAHA. This list just wouldn’t be complete without it! Who could ever tire of Draco fucking Harry, his senior officer???? NOT ME!!

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by firethesound (150K)- Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.Another fic I’ve recced over and over because IT’S THE QUINTESSENTIAL BEST EVER CLASSIC AUROR PARTNER FIC IN MY OPINION so it literally cannot be missing from this list.

It’s the Love of the Chase (That Created the Ride) by lumosed_quill (14K)- Draco and Harry are new Auror partners. It’s a bit dull. Until they finally see some spell action and things get a lot more interesting (in Draco’s pants).Basically adrenalin rushes from cases make Harry and Draco crave sex and it’s amazing One Harry Potter Please (If Possible, Seduced and Ready) by faithwood (62K)- All Draco wants is Harry Potter’s friendship, just to make his new Auror job more bearable. However, after Harry stubbornly pays more attention to his secret admirer, Draco is forced to resort to drastic measures.So nearly all long-term-auror-partner fics have flangst because how could they not?? But this one stands out to me as being the FLANGSTIEST (this is a word now) EVER. Like an adorable idiot, Draco impersonates Harry’s secret admirer.

The Kaleidoscope Charm, or 50 Shades of Rainbow Magic by Omi_Ohmy (27K)- Getting Draco Malfoy as a boss was not the worst thing that happened to Harry; getting a crush on him was.Auror!Harry is assigned to work with Draco (of the Curse and Lock Breaking Dept). Also he owns a giant angel statue that looks just like him. ;D

Like Diamonds We Are Cut With Our Own Dust by raitala (11K)- Draco has borne the mark of the Dark Lord for over ten years. It is familiar to him, but he pays the price for it every day, and Harry has noticed.This fic is just so cool. It’s based on “that picture” by alekina, which I coincidentally reblogged just yesterday and is amazing and HARRY REMOVES DRACO’S DARK MARK YEP

Whoo Knew? by oceaxe (19K)- Despite having had a crush on his Auror partner for years, Draco’s been biding his time and waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his case. But when Harry subscribes to a new wizarding personals service, Draco gets a wake-up call. With new each message that arrives for Harry from a hopeful suitor, it becomes more and more clear that the time to act has arrived.MORE AUROR PARTNERS BEING RIDICULOUS PINING IDIOTS UNABLE TO COMMUNICATE, BUT THEY DO IT ALL SO CUTELY. And with owls this time!!

#rec list #drarry #drarry fic recs #drarry fanfic #auror partners #aurors #auror harry #auror draco #cursebreaker draco #i tagged the blogs of all of the authors i follow #i hope that's okay?#if you want me to remove the tag let me know!#chibarecs

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wardencommanderrodimiss · 7 years

Text

mirror, mirror

I though this fic would be some 4k words, done in a few months, when I started. I’ve spent a week shy of a full year working on this 19k horror. I’m so excited to show it to the world and I apologize for the fact that my Mahariel is named Avrian and the Witch Hunt companion is named Ariane. I know that’s an eyesore. I’m so sorry.

“I will find you, Morrigan, I swear it.”

He dreams, as he often does, of darkspawn and mirrors twisted together, blighted eyes looking back out of cracked glass, and he wakes up shaking, pressing his hands to his own teary blighted eyes. Avrian sits up, curling his knees to his chest and his forehead to his knees, trying to slow his breathing. Nearby, someone stirs.

"Darkspawn?" Velanna asks wearily. "Is Nathaniel not doing his job on watch?" Her eyes are bright in the darkness, not tainted, and Avrian grounds himself in that. Just a nightmare. Just things that happened long ago. Just a nightmare.

"It's fine," Avrian says. He sees Nathaniel's silhouette shift, turning toward them, and he shakes his head and gives his friend a dismissive wave, everything's fine. "Just a nightmare - a regular one." Just things that happened long ago.

Velanna grunts and rolls over. "Weren't you doing better about not having those?"

"Like I can control it, lethallan," he growls, closing his eyes and digging his fingers into his legs. "I... I wasn't having as many, for a while."

Then a letter from Keeper Marethari arrived in Amaranthine. Please, she writes, da'len, please send some word to Merrill and talk her out of this path she has chosen.

She means, please don't let her kill herself with that mirror, the way you and Tamlen died.

One day, Clan Sabrae will have their own land in Ferelden, a permanent place, but the earth is still blighted after over a year and a half and it is safer for them in the Free Marches for now. Avrian wishes there was something he could do to move his people back to Ferelden sooner - if they were closer - if he could talk to Merrill instead of throwing letters across the sea to find her in an alienage of all places - if - if -

If they had their own little Arlathan, maybe Merrill wouldn't feel the need to risk everything for a piece of the past better left in the past.

Avrian sends letter after letter, stubborn and unrelenting, and he forgot how Merrill so often can be the same as him, with her thick skull and bitter determination. They are at an impasse and continue to send letters, throw themselves up against the brick wall that time and space has built between them, trying to break through, trying to convince the other - that the mirror is an important piece of our past that we cannot let go, that the mirror is dangerous and our lives now are more important than anything we had then.

And he dreams, again, of those mirrors, blighted eyes and tainted veins on Merrill's face now, instead of Tamlen's. He imagines storming into Kirkwall and dragging her back to the clan, shaking sense into her, how could she willingly walk away from the clan when Avrian would once have done anything to stay? How can she stand to be so close but so far when Avrian glances across the sea and his heart aches with a longing for a home that he has tried to return to but has no more place for him? He dreams of darkspawn's claws and Tamlen's blight-twisted hands dragging Merrill away from him, he dreams of screaming after her, please, lethallan, ir lath ma, I cannot lose you like I lost Tamlen, like I lost my own life, please! He wakes shaking, angry, sad, and feeling more alone than he ever has in his life.

He doesn't sleep again that night; in the morning, his arrows do not so smoothly find their mark. "You're sloppy," Nathaniel tells him, the address of commander conspicuously lost, and Avrian yanks an arrow from a darkspawn's eye - one of Nathaniel's - and returns it to his own quiver.

"I know," he says, and the look Velanna shoots him is disgust and pity both.

Alistair comes by Vigil's Keep and Avrian grabs him before any of the other wardens can, dragging him up to the battlements where they can talk uninterrupted. "Would it be wrong," he asks, "to devote some of the Order's resources to tracking down Morrigan?"

Alistair looks at him. "I imagine," he says slowly, "that no matter what I say, you're going to anyway." Avrian nods. "Can I just ask, then - what brought this on? Why now?"

"I've been in contact with my clan," Avrian says. "Thinking about everything that I've lost, everything that I can't get back - I tried," he adds, not sure of how much he told Alistair. "I tried to go back to them but it just... wasn't right. I didn't belong there anymore. And I don't think I belong here anymore, not with the wardens. And I tried to look for Morrigan but it was just me and Zevran with no idea of where to go - with more people, more resources, if I just try again..."

I'm lonely, is the simple answer that he will let Alistair piece together for himself. I'm lonely, and I know it more than ever, writing to Merrill. I'm going to lose her like I lose everyone and that's making me think more about what I've lost. I can't save Merrill no matter how I try but I haven't tried my hardest for Morrigan, yet. She's all that's left that he thinks he can maybe get back, whatever she might have told him.

Alistair shakes his head. "You don't know how to stop hoping, do you?"

"No. I don't."

He doesn't turn over the title of warden-commander, if only because if he does, he knows his chosen successor is going to order him right back into the ranks. "This is foolish," Warden-Constable Velanna says. "This is - hopeless and foolish and -"

"Aren't you still looking for Seranni?" Avrian reminds her. It's a low blow and he knows it. It's insincere - Avrian thinks her search is neither hopeless nor foolish - and she knows it.

Her lip curls. "She is my sister, not a shemlen lover!"

But the sneer in her voice isn't as pronounced as it is when Avrian knows her to be truly angry. She looks at him, silent now, trying to judge: does she really mean this much to you? Avrian does not know how to answer her. So much he has never said: that his father was killed just before he was born and his mother vanished into the night after him, seeking vengeance or giving into despair. Did she call on Elgar'nan for strength or Falon'Din for release? Did she imagine that one day her son would take after her, carry that strength of love that bids to follow into death or unknown?

Love is not a weakness, Avrian told Morrigan, once, and she looked at him and she knew: the way he loves is a weakness, unfailingly loyal and with all of his heart, all-consuming. Love bid him to race toward death after Tamlen, and Morrigan intercepted him upon that path; now love bids him to race into the unknown after her. How does he tell Velanna that? How does he tell her that wherever Morrigan is, she is there with his child, and when he was young he told himself that one day he would be a father and never would he let his child grow up without him the way his mother let him be without her.

Something must show in his face, because Velanna's eyes soften. She means this much to you. "Stubborn," she snorts at him, annoyed and admiring, the way that Tamlen always used to call him.

"Goodbye, lethallan," Avrian says. "If anyone disrespects your command, knock some sense into them, or tell Arl Howe to."

"Oh, Nathaniel is going to be insufferable." Avrian thinks he almost sees a smile from Velanna, and he grins back at her and brushes his hair out of his eyes. She turns back to the Keep's gates and stops. "Good luck, lethallin" she says quietly. "Creators guide your path."

He tries to not look back.

Flemeth's hut still stands, upright but hollow and surrounded by blighted land and broken trees and dragon bones, broken arrows from Avrian's quiver still littering the claw-churned ground two years after the fight. The Creators lead him to another of the People, standing in the skeleton of the hut. Her name is Ariane and she, too, searches for Morrigan. "She stole an ancient text from my clan," Ariane spits. Avrian's stomach drops, and Fen'Falon shrinks away at the venom in her voice, ears flat back against his head. "What reason do you have for pursuing her?"

Avrian twists his ring. He has never told Ashalle, Merrill, Marethari, Velanna, of Morrigan's identity. He has never told one of his people that he loves Asha'Bellanar's daughter. When he answers, he closes his eyes to wait for Ariane's judgment. "I love her."

She looks surprised, and sad, and not angry.

They leave, together, and Ariane explains that she came here to ask Asha'Bellanar for help. It is brave of her, Avrian says, for few are willing to face the witch alone, and he hesitates, before he tells her that he killed Asha'Bellanar, years ago, at Morrigan's behest. He can see in her face and her eyes that she pities him, like when she said, startled, that she had heard stories of Flemeth's daughters being beautiful but never that they were able to love. She thinks him used by a witch with no heart.

Morrigan has a heart; if nothing else, Avrian's, that he gave to her.

"Do you know what an eluvian is?" Ariane asks, after some silence, time she has given Avrian to be free from her questions of Morrigan. He shakes his head. "I don't either, but that is the subject of the book that Morrigan stole. It was written in ancient elven. If we find out what an eluvian is, then perhaps that will help us find her."

Fen'Falon whines. He whines every time Ariane speaks of her; sadness at her anger, perhaps. The mabari loved Morrigan, much more than she would ever publicly profess to love him. "Do you have any idea of where to go for answers?" Avrian asks.

Ariane nods, her mouth is pressed thin. She is not happy about it.

Avrian isn't either. It feels wrong, insulting, that two of the People should have to go to the Circle, to the Chantry, to find a piece of their own history - but the fact remains that the Circle's library is the only place that they have a chance of finding information. "The book we had was once part of the Circle's library," Ariane explains. "The elf that brought it to us stole it when he escaped." She smiles a little as she says this, and Avrian grins too.

"Good for him."

The Templars at the door question letting a Dalish elf into their libraries, but not a mabari. "I'm Dalish, too," Avrian snarls, and the Templars look taken aback, like the blue-and-silver of the warden armor has washed the vallaslin from Avrian's skin. He is not Dalish, he is not an elf, he is not anything that makes him Avrian Mahariel of Clan Sabrae; he is a warden, the Warden-Commander, the Hero of Ferelden. He hates it but the Templars stammer and bow and scurry out of their way and that he can be glad for.

The book they find in the Circle library mentioning eluvians - the fruits of a search that took hours and hours of skimming for anything about ancient elves - is also written in elven. "I wish Merrill was with us," Avrian mutters, leaning his head against a bookshelf. "Or Velanna." Even if they couldn't fluently read it, they still would know more than him, and maybe that would be enough to tell them what an eluvian is.

"Perhaps they have some book on translations?" Ariane suggests, and Avrian tucks the book about ancient elven artifacts under his arm and follows Ariane back to the library's index. Part of him desperately wants to keep this book and the one on translating elven that they look up. It is their history, not the Chantry's; it deserves to see life and use with the Dalish instead of being trapped in the cold dusty halls of the Circle. It wouldn't be stealing - the Chantry probably stole it first. He whispers this to Ariane and she laughs before suspiciously looking around to make sure no one heard. "We do want to be able to come back here, right?" she asks. Avrian shrugs.

"Probably?"

Fen'Falon barks cheerfully. Avrian has discovered that sound is as close to a laugh as a mabari gets. Ariane pulls the translation book off the shelf and cracks it open, flipping through the pages so fast that Avrian doesn't know how she can see what she's looking for. "Eluvian..." she mutters. "Eluvian, eluvian..."

"Hey! Be careful with that!"

Ariane's head snaps up and Avrian has to stop himself from throwing the book he is holding in the direction of the stranger and going for his bow. Before them stands a human, marked as a mage by his robes, with his arms folded over his chest, glaring at them. "You're bending the spine out of shape!"

Ariane raises her eyebrows, not adjusting her hold on the book at all, and looks at Avrian. "We're in the middle of something important," Avrian says tersely, biting back a snarl. "We won't break your book. Please go."

"Maybe you won't break it, but you're certainly helping to make it easier for someone a few more months down the line to break it - eluvians, did I hear you say?" The mage steps forward and Ariane, to her credit, does not shrink back like Avrian does. He looks over the opened pages. "Ah, yes, I did. You know no one has actually found one, ever?"

"You know what an eluvian is?" Ariane asks slowly. She sounds both surprised and annoyed, that the shemlen should interrupt them - but also that a shemlen should know more about their history than they do.

"It's the old elvish word for 'looking glass'," the mage explains, and Ariane looks at Avrian and Avrian stares at the book in his hands, at the word, eluvian, eluvian, twisting before his eyes. "Colloquially, 'mirror'."

"No," Avrian breathes, and his shaking hands clench tight on the book in his hands. "How do you know?" he demands, finding his voice again, stronger. "You're a shemlen." You're wrong. You have to be wrong.

"I'm the Circle's linguist," the mage says, oblivious to Avrian's distress. "I've been studying all kinds of lost and rare languages since I was small - an eluvian isn't just any kind of mirror, you know. It's a special kind," and he's still talking, words and words swirling through the air, something about Tevinter - it's an old Tevinter artifact he hears Duncan saying, but Tevinter built itself on the bones of Arlathan. There is a thud, the book slipping from Avrian's hands, and he sinks back against the bookshelf and ignores the indignant cry of the mage. Something about being careful with that, careful, careful, Tamlen we have to be careful, we don't know what we're going to find in these ruins, and Tamlen grins. Mirror, looking glass, it doesn't show a reflection and it ripples under Tamlen's fingers, looking glass and Tamlen looks like a ghoul, like a monster, screams don't look at me and runs.

"Avrian? Avrian, are you all right?"

He's sitting curled on the floor, back against the bookshelf, trembling hands curled into fists pressed against the floor. Fen'Falon is whining loudly, pressing his nose into Avrian's neck. Ariane is crouched at his other side, her hand on his shoulder, her eyes wide. "Avrian?"

"We found a mirror like that, once." He can barely force the words out. He can barely hear himself. He doesn't know if Ariane can hear but then the mage speaks and he realizes they must have.

"You've - you've found an eluvian? You've seen one? Actually seen one?"

Ariane glares up at him. "Can you -"

Something breaks. "In an old ruin in the Brecilian Forest, we didn't know if the ruins were elven or Tevinter. There was a mirror - it didn't show a reflection - it was magic - it was tainted by the blight. I got sick from it. I only survived because a Grey Warden took me. Tamlen - Tamlen vanished. He was just gone, the mirror - took him, or - it -" The words don't come out right. The story replays in his nightmares but he can't form the words. The taint took him; he was a ghoul; I found him again. "We - I - had to -" kill him.

He had to - but he didn't. Tamlen begged and begged and Avrian couldn't - couldn't -

"Ir abelas," Ariane whispers. Fen'Falon whines louder.

Eluvian. The thing has a name, the thing that killed him and Tamlen, the thing that Merrill now gambles her life on. Eluvian. He turns the word over and over in his head. Eluvian. Eluvian. Why did his ancestors create such a thing and how did it become so twisted, so corrupted? Eluvian. Does Merrill know the word? She hasn't ever written it in her letters. Avrian could take these books to her - maybe it would be enough for her to know what the mirror is, maybe if she had answers she would stop trying to repair it, she would -

He is on his feet before he realizes, smacking his head into the bookshelves, and the mage says something and so does Ariane but Avrian doesn't hear either of them. "Morrigan," he gasps, and he feels sick, almost tainted sick, and he leans on a table to try and regain his balance. He can see his fingers shaking even pressed flat on the surface. "What is she - why -"

She knows what it can do, or she should - not as well as Merrill, but she was there to see Tamlen, she knows Avrian's story. She knows the mirror killed them. It's going to kill Merrill - it's going to kill Morrigan. They are going to die like Avrian and Tamlen died - Avrian is going to lose them exactly like he lost Tamlen.

"We need to find her," he gasps. "Now."

We need to stop her. I need to save her.

Ariane puts her hand on his shoulder and he finds himself half leaning against her, trying to steady himself, trying to ground himself, against the screaming storm swirling about in his head. Fen'Falon presses against his hip, another solid weight, another constancy. "Wait, what happened to that eluvian?" the mage asks. "Is it still there?"

"Can you stop -" Ariane starts to say, again.

Avrian lifts his head, feeling dizzy, still sick, but he forces himself to stay upright instead of sinking to the floor again. "Duncan destroyed it," he says, not caring that neither of them know who Duncan is. "He said it was too dangerous." He said Tamlen was certainly dead. He said there was nothing we could do to help him. He said the Joining was a cure. He lied he lied he lied.

"D- destroyed it?" the mage repeats, indignant, as angry he was lecturing Avrian and Ariane about the proper way to hold a book. "You..." He shakes his head and turns away, muttering to himself, "But even broken if it could still be used to find the others, if we..." He paces a small circle next to the table.

Ariane scoops the book Avrian dropped up off the floor. "What are you talking about?" she asks.

"I think - and I might be getting ahead of myself, but I think that the eluvians - they were used for communication, like I said - are all interconnected. You know where one is, so it could lead to others -"

"No," Avrian says, and he stands up straight, one shaking hand clenched on the back of a chair to hold himself up. The mage is taller than him, but Avrian is Commander of the Grey, and he has long learned how to put the fear of Elgar'nan into shemlen who know only Andraste's name. He shrinks before Avrian's eyes but does not step away.

"If Morrigan is interested in eluvians," Ariane says, her hand returning to Avrian's shoulder, "then she will also search for one. It will lead us to her." She waits for Avrian to respond. He can't find any words to speak; everything is lodged in his throat, a shrieking whirlwind of panic and longing. "What else do you know?" she asks the mage.

"Nothing for sure - I know where to look, though, for the information. This is so exciting; if we can discover," and he's babbling more words that Avrian doesn't hear.

"Exciting?" Avrian repeats. This time, the mage does step back, and Ariane jerks her hand away from Avrian like she had brushed it against a boiling pot. Fen'Falon steps back and barks like a warning. "Exciting? Fenedhis, what do you think this is? A game? A fun learning experience? You want to throw your life away chasing scraps of knowledge for - for a history that isn't even yours!" He trips on the words; for a moment, Merrill's was the face that he saw, Merrill the one he is yelling at, living now is more important than knowing how we lived in Arlathan he writes and crosses it out and writes it again and balls up the letter and throws it at the door just as Nathaniel walks in.

"I told you what discovering that mirror did to me! The Grey Wardens saved my life for a time but that's not a cure, no one has a cure for the blight! You have no idea - do you know what happens when you're not lucky enough to have a Grey Warden to save you?" He spits the word lucky; Duncan lied. There are eyes, more than this mage's and Ariane's, peering around bookshelves, staring at them, and Avrian doesn't care. "I found Tamlen again, after five months. His skin was gray and rotting and his eyes were white like mine and the darkspawn didn't even realize that he wasn't one of their own! He begged me to kill him. Isn't that exciting?"

This mage, stupid boy, stupid curious boy, doesn't deserve this vitriol; Avrian, somewhere in the depths of his mind, knows that. But no matter how angry words inked on a page are, they yell only as loud as the reader's own mind; and Merrill would read them quietly, take all of Avrian's concern and none of his fury. That anger bubbles over now, anger at Merrill and anger at Morrigan - how could she be foolish enough to toy with eluvians and how dare she steal from his people to do so - turns frustration with this naive mage into screaming rage. Avrian sinks into a chair and presses his hands to his forehead, squeezes his hands together so tightly that they hurt, joints burning with the effort, fingers hurting where his rings push against them. "You don't know what you're asking," he says. "I can't be responsible for..."

It's like the Joining, handing the cup to someone and condemning them to death by the blight. He still remembers Mhairi, her enthusiasm, her curiosity. She wasn't the only warden-recruit to die on the floor of Vigil's Keep; but she was the first. How much more tainted blood will he have on his hands? "I can't," he whispers. He can't let them come with him, and he can't not.

Fen'Falon lays his head on Avrian's knee and whines quietly. He can feel the vibration through the mabari's throat more than he can hear the sound. "I'm not going back to my clan without the book," Ariane says firmly. She touches Avrian's shoulder with her fingertips. "I knew I would face dangers when I left, and I accept this one, too."

She pursued Morrigan, knowing that she must be a powerful mage. She sought out Asha'Bellanar, alone - but even Flemeth could be fought, killed, and the taint can only held at arms' length, ever drawing closer.

"Look, whatever - whoever? - you're looking for, this sounds really important," the mage says. He's still here. He hasn't fled Avrian's anger. He doesn't know, as the wardens learned, how rare that anger is, and so how much it should be feared. "And you sound, sorry, you sound a little desperate. You need help, and I can help. I want to help. You know living in the Circle's not the most risk-free life either, right?"

Avrian knows. The first time he traversed these floors, they were coated in blood and bodies. He knows what a Harrowing is. He knows all that Anders told him. He knows the Chantry wants control of everything and that the Templars will overstep any bounds, even within the wardens. There is no risk-free life in the Circle; there is barely a life in the Circle.

He sighs. "Should I - we - take your not-arguing as assent?" the mage asks.

Avrian covers his eyes with his hands, his fingers still linked together. Mythal watch over us. Falon'Din, do not take any of us yet. Dread Wolf avert your gaze. He looks up, at Ariane's face, pulled tight with concern, and then at the mage, wide-eyed with some combination of apprehension and excitement. "Yes," Avrian says.

"Yes!" the mage crows. "Okay, okay - the repository in the basement, I know exactly where to find the exact answers we need, I'll go right now and you can come or not -"

And he's gone, running with a speed that Avrian didn't know someone wearing robes was capable of. "Oh, Creators," Ariane says, and then she races after him.

Avrian, for once, does not follow.

Fen'Falon whines. Avrian absently rubs his ears, staring blankly at the two books on the table, about the People's lost magics and lost language. They have lost so much; but somehow they always face losing more. Ariane would risk her life for a book, for that piece of their past, just as Merrill risks her life rebuilding that mirror, just as Tamlen wanted to search the ruins for any shard of Arlathan left. Is there something wrong with him, Avrian wonders, that he does not have this compulsion to die for a piece of the past? He would die for the living or for love but never for what is lost.

He remembers, then, Keeper saying that she would be interested in the ruins and its artifacts had it not put them in danger. Tamlen's life is more important than any mirror. She thinks the same as Avrian. She hasn't managed to impress that upon Merrill. Stubborn, he thinks, and he tries to make himself smile at that. Himself, Tamlen, Merrill - all stubborn, all butting their stony heads up against each other.

There are things that will never be again. Arlathan is one; the eluvians are another; and the stubborn and reckless young trio of Clan Sabrae is a third. One is dead; the other two separated, lost, and no longer naming themselves of Clan Sabrae. He wonders if there is more than the mirror and disagreement with Keeper to Merrill's leaving; he wonders if she has fallen through the hole that his and Tamlen's absence left, like he could not find his place in the clan again when he visited. The hole he left is a different shape than he is upon return. He does not fit.

He sighs. Fen'Falon licks his fingers. "Are you worried about her too?" Avrian asks, and he thinks the whimper is affirmation. "We'll find her," he says. "Her and the baby, and we'll..."

The child. Avrian told Alistair only what he needed to know in the moment, which was that Morrigan had magic that would save their lives, and Avrian had agreed to it. Alistair accepted it the way he accepted anything having to do with Morrigan; with a large amount of skepticism, and several puzzled glances at Avrian that asked why her? And they wrote a letter to Weisshaupt that was even vaguer, the equivalent of shrugging one's shoulders, and they moved on to separate warden duties.

The mabari is the only one who ever heard the full story, about a child that would maybe just be a child but may be a god. He is the only one that Avrian can trust not to judge, not to fear, and never to betray the secret. He is the only one that, when Avrian realizes he has no plan for when he finds Morrigan, cannot push him further for answers.

Avrian lays his head down on the table and waits.

The mage's name is Finn. He trips over himself as he rushes back to Avrian, babbling something about mirror shards and scrying and everything is connected, and Ariane looks at Avrian and says apologetically that they need to go find the shards of his eluvian.

His eluvian. Tamlen's eluvian, Merrill's, theirs, the one that has destroyed them. He has to go back. He has to go back. His hands shake and he squeezes his eyes shut, I can't. I can't.

"But you're not allowed to leave the tower," Ariane is saying to the mage, planning ahead, while Avrian has frozen in the past, and he shakes himself loose, stands and stumbles, holds himself up on the table again.

"The wardens get special dispensation," Avrian says. They both look at him, like they forgot that he can speak. "They'll let you leave with me." I'll make them let you go.

"Oh - no, it's fine! I got special permission to leave the tower some time ago, to continue my research, but I never had anywhere to go until now. I can just let the First Enchanter know and then we can leave!"

Avrian wonders how rare that must be, to be granted freedom. He wonders if mages have taken it and run and never come back from their research. He wonders why Finn didn't.

He finds out why Finn didn't, when they've barely crested the first hill on the shores of Lake Calenhad and Finn complains about the muddy uneven ground when it hasn't even rained in a week. "It could be so much worse," Avrian tells him, and he tells a story of when he was young, a decade and a half before, where a rainy spring left the clan stranded in open, indefensible campsites because they couldn't move their aravels through all the mud. The halla seemed a new breed that were white with brown spots. Merrill and Avrian picked flowers and wrapped them around their horns so that they would still feel beautiful.

Finn is eager to hear about Dalish life, as many ignorant assumptions as he carries. He asks Ariane if she and Avrian are related because their names are so similar, and when Ariane says that they only met earlier this week, Finn jumps to asking her if her name means something in elven. She sighs and turns the question around on him. Shemlen, Avrian thinks, and Finn is telling them about his name: Florian Phineas Horatio Aldebrant, Esquire. Avrian nearly laughs in disbelief but manages to shut off the sound before it escapes his throat. "What does 'esquire' mean?" he asks. It isn't a word that he ever heard in his tenure as Arl of Amaranthine.

Only when they settle for the evening does Finn finally ask something Avrian thinks he should have asked a while ago: "Who's Morrigan?"

Avrian looks at Ariane. She is already looking at him. They each wait for the other to speak. "Uh, did I ask that out loud or just in my head, because I do that sometimes?" Finn adds hesitantly.

"She stole a book about eluvians from Ariane's clan," Avrian explains, "and they want it back."

"But you're not from the same clan," Finn says. "How did you get here?"

"We fought together during the blight, Morrigan and I," Avrian says. Ariane's eyes are fixed on him as intently as Finn's; she is just as curious as to how Avrian will spin this tale. "She disappeared after but I couldn't just... let her go. I love her."

He still hesitates on the word, love, not because he feels anything less but because he wonders, each time, how the other person will react, be it Ariane or Finn hearing the story, Alistair who laughed and then choked on it when he saw that Avrian was serious, or even when he told Morrigan and her eyes went wide and then sharp, anger to hide fear.

"And she left?" Finn asks.

Avrian sits forward and stares into the fire, remembering when he sat around a larger one with Alistair, Leliana, Zevran, Wynne, and others, or when he sat with Morrigan at her tiny separate camp, her desperate attempts to keep emotional distance from the rest of them by keeping physical distance too. The light catches off of Fen'Falon's fur; he has been here, always. "It's complicated," he says, and he doesn't look at either of them, not wanting to see their pity for his stubborn denial and the way he clings to a Witch of the Wilds who would sooner eat a man's heart than keep it. "It wasn't..." Wasn't her choice? But it was, for all it might have been a choice born of her thinking that she had no others, no way to live but how her mother did. "She..."

He twists her ring on his finger and then puts his head in his hands. "It's complicated," he repeats. "But I promised her I would find her. This is the first that I've found her trail and I can't let her go again."

"And with the eluvians," Finn says, and Avrian looks up at him to see his eyes widening and eyebrows raising as he comprehends, "you're afraid that something will happen to her like what happened to..." He stops. Avrian never said who Tamlen was.

"To my brother," Avrian says.

"Did she know?" Ariane asks. "About Tamlen?"

Avrian nods. "She was there when I found him." She was the one who killed him, because he wanted it, and because I couldn't.

He dreams that night like he has many nights before, screaming for Merrill but unable to reach her before the taint has devoured her as Tamlen rasps kill me, please, but the next ghoul to appear out of shattered silver shards that show no reflection has shemlen ears and her eyes fade from golden to blighted white. When he jerks awake it is with a leg spasm that kicks Fen'Falon in the rump, and the mabari glares at him before shuffling away, closer to Ariane. Avrian presses his hands to his forehead and stares up at the open sky, star-speckled, and he remembers suddenly, in Orzammar, looking over endless crafted merchandise until he saw his own eyes staring back at him. He flinched then as he still does now, but the golden craftsmanship drew his attention back, remembering the story Morrigan told him of her childhood prize.

He has to press his fist against his mouth to stop from waking Ariane and Finn with his half-hysterical laughter. Morrigan, and mirrors, even back then.

The Brecilian Forest is empty of any clans at the moment. It has been two years since he last saw it, much longer than he ever went before; Clan Sabrae did not so much wander endlessly but make a rotation of several sites, until they ran from the blight. The Wending Wood has many of the Brecilian Forest's spirits, murderous trees, and other assorted mysteries, but it isn't home.

Stepping back into the thick trees that make the sun green on the moss below feels like home, somehow even more than returning to his clan outside of Kirkwall did. "Do you know where the ruins were?" Finn asks. Avrian shakes his head. He thinks if he opens his mouth to elaborate further, he might vomit. Home is not empty of horrors.

Ariane has a map showing the Brecilian Forest in more detail than Finn's, and Avrian can make a circle of the section of the forest that they will most likely have success searching in. "So, uh, should I expect that we'll be attacked by anything?" Finn asks nervously, squinting through the mists that cling to tree trunks like vines.

Avrian and Ariane make a game of how long they can keep going naming potential threats. He says darkspawn, she says bears, he says bearskarn and has to explain the tainted twisted monsters that he and Tamlen found in the ruins. His voice still shakes on Tamlen's name. He thought he had let go.

Eluvian.

He had. He had, but the grave that he finally set his grief down in is a shallow one, too easily scratched open to display its bare bones to the world. "Ir abelas," Ariane says, mournful eyes watching his trembling shoulders, clenched fists. "I can't imagine how this must feel, to go back."

"We had no idea." He closes his eyes, trying to stir up the feverish memories of what the forest looked like around the ruins, the pathways and gullies where the clan camped as they had so many times before. How had no one ever found the cave until he and Tamlen did? Did it awaken with the blight, stirred up by the darkspawn or was it just chance when the Dread Wolf decided to open his jaws, Mythal's grace that kept any of the clan from stumbling in sooner? "That this was where everything would change, that... that he'd already walked away from the clan for the last time, that I'd never see him again healthy, whole."

"My clan passed yours on our way back to Ferelden," Ariane says. "They told us of their losses. There was a new baby, named Tamlen. They remember him, too."

What did Morrigan name their child? If he could have gone with her - if their child was a boy - would he have, would she have let him, name him after Tamlen? Or would that be a sure way for Avrian to never live free of the ghosts of regret? "I never told anyone I found him," Avrian confesses. "I thought to spare them that."

Fen'Falon presses against his hip. Avrian rubs his ears. Ariane and Finn say nothing, letting him close his eyes and listen to the wind rustle the leaves, the stream babble against rocks down in the ravine. Something itches in the base of his skull, a pulse down his spine, a twitch like a compass point spinning, an arrow on a map drawn in tainted blood on his brain. He knows it is the cave, as surely as anything, sensing it as clearly as darkspawn or archdemons. "This way," he says, turning and leading them off the path, over tree roots and shifting soil. Finn calls for them to wait up and Avrian leans against a tree, remembering the first days after Ostagar, as he and Morrigan so easily picked their way through the wilderness while Alistair stumbled behind them. That was the second life he has left behind.

"Are you sure?" Finn asks after he has caught up to them and disturbed every bit of wildlife in the area. "How do you know?"

"I can sense the blight," he says. "I know."

Finn stares at him like he isn't sure if he should be afraid or concerned or simply accept it as fact. Avrian starts walking again and almost doesn't answer, but he stops, one hand resting on the tree next to him and says, without looking at Finn, "It's part of being a warden."

"Oh," Finn says, his tone suggesting that he really doesn't know what to say, that he really sort of regrets asking. He doesn't say more, nor does Ariane, and the silence that falls is the unnatural stillness of a blighted area, the way Avrian remembers returning to the cave with Merrill and Fenarel. Do you hear that? Merrill asked, and that was nothing.

He leads them down the path and then off of it, through brambles and dead leaves that cover the ground so thoroughly that they will never all finish rotting away. The sensation of the taint tingles down his spine, churning over and over in his stomach now as they draw closer. Every heartbeat is followed by a sharp jabbing sensation, a muscle spasm in his chest, like his blood is trying to tear free of his body and join what else of the taint lies nearby.

"Here," he says, stopping, and for a moment he wants to fall to the ground and bury himself in it, give in to the calling a decade or two before it will become unbearable. Simpler, if he were to now. Of all the world, the Brecilian Forest, home to the paths he grew up on and the tombs of his long-ago ancestors, the trees within which Tamlen's ashes were scattered, would be a good place to die.

"Here?" Finn repeats in disbelief. Avrian pushes through the brush until he finds the sudden drop, easing himself down against the cliffside as far as he can before he drops the rest of the distance. Without turning he knows that the cave mouth gapes open behind him, waiting for the unwary to descend down the gullet of the earth into the cold stone where tainted beasts await.

"Here," Avrian says. Here, a lifetime ago, he and Tamlen stood.

I don't like this, Avrian said, slinging his bow back over his shoulder and resting a hand on the dagger at his hip. We need to be careful. There has to be some reason we've never seen this place before.

We should at least check it out, Tamlen said. He still had an arrow nocked to his bow in case the humans came back around again. See if there's anything interesting before we go running back to Keeper. Don't want to drag her out here for nothing because you're scared of the dark and won't go in first. How dangerous can it be?

If he closes his eyes he sees himself, only two years younger but also so much more, hair pulled back in tight braids that Ashalle's deft fingers could weave faster than he was ever able to. He wears his hair loose and curly now and some nights fumbles trying to braid it the way he never practiced enough because long after he received his vallaslin, Ashalle was still willing to help him. His eyes were still brown back then, eyes he got from his mother like he took her name, and now he only has the latter, the taint having stripped the color away even long after his veins stopped looking like charcoal lines drawn against his sickly skin.

He sees Tamlen, clear skin and bright eyes and the lines of his vallaslin sharp on his face. The taint took that all from him and from Avrian it took the ability to remember him solely as he was. He sees again, unwillingly, rotting gray flesh and empty eyes, replacing the image of him alive, quick and curious and angry and affectionate and everything he was. How dangerous can it be, Tamlen asked, and the Dread Wolf grinned his terrible grin of a thousand bared teeth and said, now you will find out.

"Avrian?" Ariane asks. The way she says it sounds like she has tried to get his attention several times before. Fen'Falon whines.

"Yes?" He slides Morrigan's ring up his finger and back down, twisting it and then clenching his hand in a fist.

"This is it?"

"Yes." He opens his eyes. "This is it."

Here, once, he did die.

Ariane stands at his shoulder, her arm brushing against his. "If you don't wish to go in -"

"No." He surprises himself with the force that he manages in the word when otherwise he feels lightheaded and faint, the way he did when the taint first tried to claim him and failed. "You and Finn aren't going in without me. Stay behind me, don't touch anything." He steps forward and turns around to stare them both down. "And if anything attacks, stay back. It's probably blighted."

The cave mouth narrows and then widens, the dirt beneath their feet switching to the stone of the ruins. Nothing has changed, not to Avrian's memory; tree roots stretch down from the ceiling and cut across the corridor, and the statue of Falon'Din stands tall, almost untouched and undamaged by the ages. "Did our ancestors truly live down here?" Ariane asks. "It's so... cold."

Tamlen asked the same question. Avrian has an answer now. "Likely. We did once live in Cad'Halash - Cadash Thiag." They went there looking for Shale's old life and found some of Avrian's ancestors, too. He kept the old diaries, cracked spines and flaking pages, that they uncovered and he copied down to new pages everything he could read. It was mindless but he needed that at the time; it was better than thoughts of broodmothers and ghouls and shrieks. "The dwarves there took in elves after the fall of the Dales. And east of here is an old elvish temple. Whoever of our people lived here long ago didn't mind the stone."

He traced the steps of his ancestors' rituals and found in their tombs spirits desperately crying out for peace, fluent and begging in a language that Avrian only has pieces of. The way the trees had woven their way down through the broken stone looked the same there as it does here. The forest, their home now, reclaimed their homes then.

All Tamlen wanted to find from these ruins was knowledge like this, anything to bring back to Keeper to impress her and make up for whatever trouble he had caused. It was something that, for once, Avrian hadn't been an accomplice in. It was something that ceased to matter when Tamlen brushed his fingertips across the poisoned mirror.

The larger open hall has a floor made of cracked tiles and walls coated in spiderwebs. Avrian steps over bones on the floor; people, he thinks, not animals. What other lost souls did the Dread Wolf swallow up? "I told Tamlen we should turn around," Avrian says. "But he'd done - something stupid, like always, I don't remember. And we heard about this cave, that it was full of old elven artifacts, and he thought if we could learn something and bring that knowledge back to Keeper, it would make her forgive him for whatever he did."

He stops in the middle of the room and sees that Ariane and Finn have also stopped, watching him. Fen'Falon circles the two of them protectively, his ears laid flat back like he is staring down a threat, but the threat is everywhere. "Tamlen would have killed to know anything like what I learned from Cad'Halash."

He died for it instead, just a few nights before they came to the thiag.

"I wasn't even supposed to be out hunting with him that day, but I asked Master Ilen if I could help him another day and go with Tamlen instead. Keep him out of danger, I said, but usually he just got me into it instead. Even now, he's still causing me trouble. I wouldn't be a warden without the mirror, wouldn't have found the mirror without Tamlen. Everything that I've been and done - that's him. His fault."

Avrian let go of his brother's ashes but the grief will undoubtedly always linger and guilt flows through his veins like the taint that is Tamlen's legacy. His ghost is Avrian's life. "He'd be proud, probably, that he can cause trouble for me even after his death."

It is still hard to say. His death. He's dead. Tamlen is dead.

"I never did get to help Master Ilen like I was supposed to."

He kneels to examine a broken arrow on the ground, wondering if it was one of his or Tamlen's, fallen from a quiver or fired into a giant spider that has since rotted away. The echo of his voice fades back into the unnatural silence. Something about walking through the empty ruins again, among the dead, reminds him of returning to Ostagar, giving Alistair's brother a pyre like later they would for Avrian's. The sensation of omnipresent wrongness, of not nearby darkspawn but of blight encompassing everything feels more like the Deep Roads.

The longer he wastes lost in the past, the farther Morrigan can run, and the more chance there is of Ariane or Finn falling victim to the taint.

He stands and leads them through the broken corridors and a path he tread twice before, over two years ago, but it is burnt into his mind the way that memories of overwhelming fear are sharper than anything else surrounding. The door to the mirror room is closed. It shouldn't be, he thinks. It took both him and Tamlen working together to push the heavy stone open and when he left again, after Fenarel and Merrill and Duncan, he did not shut it, thinking that if Tamlen were to somehow reappear inside, as sick as Avrian was, he would not have the strength to open it alone. To starve or waste away from sickness inside would be a terrible fate, he thought then. The reality he later witnessed was worse.

Who was here after him? Did they suffer like Tamlen did?

He doesn't mention this to Ariane or Finn; they do not need to carry the burdens of the deaths between these walls. "See if you can find a key," he says, kneeling down and examining the keyhole, taking lockpicks from his belt to find out whether he can pick through without Zevran or Sigrun over his shoulder helping him.

The answer to the question is that it will be answered another day. Finn rushes back, after how long Avrian isn't sure, announcing that he found this key within the hands of a skeleton. Ariane's face is pale in the faint light, bluish from the stone, paler than she should be. She seems to have realized the implications. "Thank you," Avrian says, taking the key and straightening up. He throws his shoulder against the unlocked door and it yields to him alone. He is stronger than he was. Everything changed.

The twin statues still stand flanking the empty frame and the shards that never showed a reflection, but instead something that only Tamlen saw, are scattered all across the stone pedestal and the floor below. It must have been then, right after Duncan shattered it, as Avrian screamed at him and Fenarel paced the room looking for a hint about what happened, that Merrill took one of those broken pieces, thinking to study it and cleanse it. Marethari told Avrian that Merrill turned to blood magic in that pursuit, and maybe once Avrian would have been horrified by that. After Morrigan and a baby with an Old God's soul, blood magic meant nothing, especially not with the taint to fear. He wonders how disappointed Keeper would have been in him if he told her of the strange old magic that he let Asha'Bellanar's daughter weave in exchange for his life. He wonders whether he or Merrill would be the one fallen further from grace in the Keeper's eyes, then.

"Is one piece of it enough for your spell?" Avrian asks.

"It should be," Finn replies. Avrian tells him and Ariane to wait at the door and steps forward alone to retrieve a single shard, hoping that that will lessen the risk of contamination of them. "And this might be a long shot to ask, but you wouldn't happen to have any lyrium with you, just in case I might need...?" He trails off as Avrian sets his pack on the ground and digs through it until he pulls out a few vials of the blue liquid.

"I kept them on hand for mage wardens," he explains. He forgot to leave them behind at the Keep.

Ariane sits cross-legged next to Finn, looking at the shard Avrian has set in front of them with another warning not to touch. A few wisps of magic drift toward it from Finn's fingertips. Avrian turns away and walks back up to the frame, looking up at the statues standing so much taller than him. Who are they supposed to be? Perhaps Falon'Din and Dirthamen - death and secrets. Or perhaps Fen'Harel himself crafted the eluvians and gave them to the People. A gift, with a price, offered up like his slow arrow.

Fen'Falon growls once at the mirror's frame before looking up at Avrian and woofing softly. "I told you to wait at the door," Avrian scolds him. Fen'Falon sits defiantly. Not for the first time, Avrian wonders if the mabari can sense darkspawn and the blight like the wardens can. He was tainted too, after all.

He scratches the mabari's head and sits down on the pedestal, back to the mirror. Fen'Falon still faces it, and if the Dread Wolf comes, like story of the Keeper's old courser hound, the mabari will chase him off. "Yeah, yeah. You won't let me be alone."

With the toe of his boot he prods one of the mirror shards. It scrapes against the stone floor with a sharp sound that sends a shudder through him. "Do you miss her too?" he asks. Fen'Falon bumps his head into Avrian's shoulder in response. "I bet she doesn't miss you leaving her dead rabbits." He whines sadly. "I know, it was a gift. She just didn't know how to appreciate it." Avrian smiles a little at the memory of the first time he overheard Morrigan confronting the mabari about his actions. He wraps his arm around Fen'Falon's chest and scratches his side. One of his back paws twitches in response.

"You would've liked Tamlen," he says. "He would've liked you. You would've been insufferably annoying together." He rests his elbows on his knees and stares at his hands. "He would've hated being a warden, though, even more than I did. And he would have hated all our friends, at least at first, maybe forever. He didn't want to give any humans a chance, ever."

The blue of the warden uniforms would have matched his eyes, if they didn't stay fogged over even after the Joining like Avrian's did from being exposed for too long. Would he have tried to run as soon as he and Avrian - thought they - were cured, or would he have been too proud to? He would have thought Friendly Wolf was a stupid name for a war hound. He would have smacked Avrian upside the head for falling for Morrigan so quickly. He would have thought it a fool's errand to run after her.

Would have. Would have. Would have. Didn't. Couldn't.

His eyes burn and he can't swallow the shudder or blink back the tears. Fen'Falon whines and licks his face. "Thanks," he says hoarsely.

Ariane is calling him and he stands and wipes tears from his eyes and dog spit from his cheek. "We've found it!" she crows.

"Well, we've - I've - seen it," Finn amends, "but we don't know where exactly it..."

"Describe it," Avrian says, offering him a hand to help him stand.

"It's Ferelden, north, on the coast but not on the coast, cloudy like it's always cloudy -"

"The Storm Coast," Avrian says. "Anywhere from Amaranthine through Highever to West Hill."

"There's an old ruin, a tower, and underground, down and down, that's where the eluvian is, and up on the surface there's this creature guarding the way down. It's like - like it's wooden, like tree bark, but alive? A bunch of legs and spindly like some kind of insect, but it's huge and -"

"A varterral!" Ariane exclaims. "I bet that's a varterral!"

Avrian frowns. "It can't be near any city or town. We would have heard if humans were stumbling across a varterral."

"It's empty," Finn says. "There's nothing around, boulders, bare hills, barely anything growing, and - dragons! There's dragon skeletons all over, just their bones and skulls all across the ground."

"The Dragonbone Wastes," Avrian says. Finn finally looks up from concentrating on the shard. "I've been there. It's in the western reaches of Amaranthine, nearly into Highever. We fought darkspawn there, after the blight." He stares at the mirror shard, willing it to transform into a map, show him the exact way home. "A varterral would have been a great help," he adds. Clan Sabrae had one of its own on the Sundermount, to protect from the seemingly endless river of demons that spilled from its peaks.

"I don't know of any clan who lives there," Ariane says. "It might be ancient. Do you think it was left there to protect the eluvian?" She shudders suddenly. "I hope we don't have to kill it to get past."

"Maybe it will recognize you're both Dalish?" Finn suggests. His voice squeaks a little.

"Yes, but you aren't," Ariane points out.

"We can worry about that when we reach it," Avrian interrupts. "We have to get there first."

"Then let's go!" Finn says, more enthusiastic than he has been in a while. "And more importantly, let's not spend any more time here. This place gives me the creeps." His mouth twists like he suddenly regrets what he said. "And you probably want to leave even more."

He does, until the moment he is pulling the doors closed, and he freezes, hands still resting against the stone. Two years ago he was the last to leave, long after Duncan had. Merrill and Fenarel waited for him as he tried to tear the packed earth walls apart with his bare hands like he would find Tamlen buried there. He finally walked away feeling that he was abandoning Tamlen by doing so, feeling that something within him got lost. Avrian got lost.

Maybe he still is.

He still feels that he is leaving something behind.

He jams the key back into the lock and twists, but his ancestors' craftsmanship is strong, and it isn't until Finn comes over and melts it down the middle with magic does it yield to Avrian's wishes. The lock is jammed and the piece left twisted off in Avrian's hand, end where it broke still glowing like a coal with the heat of Finn's magic, he turns and throws as far as he can, falling beneath tree roots and broken rubble. He does not hear the metal clatter against stone.

"Let's go," he says, and he ushers them in front of him. He will be last out again and he runs his hand against the wall as he passes back through the halls. The stone beneath his fingers is smoother than he anticipated. Someone once lived or worshiped down here. Could they have foreseen that it would one day become a blighted tomb? He steps over a skeleton and looks back at it. Its armor looks elven. "Falon'Din guide you gently to the Beyond, lethallin," he whispers. "May the Dread Wolf never catch your scent."

The golden light filtered through the trees reaches into the cave mouth. Avrian stands there, blinking up at it, and Fen'Falon waits for him halfway out, as though afraid that he will decide to stay and let the tomb that tried to claim him before take him now. As a warden, one day he will never come back up to the surface. Mythal wills it, it will be a long time from now.

"Finn," he says, and he almost says it like an order before he remembers that he is not commander and Finn is not one of his wardens. If they were wardens, and this a darkspawn tunnel - they had Dworkin's explosives for that. "Do you think any of the spells you know would be able to collapse this cliff here?"

Finn follows his eyes up above the cave mouth to the hill they climbed down from. "I could try?" he offers.

"Please do," he says. "I don't want anyone to be able to stumble in there ever again."

It looks like more of a mess than a natural landslide when Finn is done, but Avrian climbs over the piles of overturned dirt and clumps of grass and stomps hard on the ground experimentally. It doesn't collapse beneath him and he walks a few large circles to make sure that no hint of the tunnel below is exposed. "Is that good?" Finn asks.

"Yes. Perfect. Thank you." He scrabbles back down the shifting earth to where Finn, Ariane, and Fen'Falon wait. No one else will die there like he and Tamlen did. He has sealed their tomb and buried it, to be lost to the ages like so much else of their ancestors.

The taint still reaches for him as he walks away, clawing down his spine and scratching at his stomach as though from the inside out. Do not leave, it begs. Stay. Stay.

He turns his head to look back over his shoulder, the whispers in his skull behind his ears pulsing in time with his heartbeat. "Dareth shiral," he breathes, another goodbye to Tamlen though he has said so many in so many places already. Maybe one day it will be a final one and the ghost at his heels will settle.

Over a campfire between Denerim and the Wending Woods, Ariane taps her fingers on her knees like she is finding the courage to ask something she has wanted to for a while. "That ring you have," she says. "You play with it often."

Avrian stops, realizing that he has it in his hand now, halfway through the process of switching it from one finger to another. "Morrigan gave it to me," he says.

Ariane's eyes widen. "Oh." She frowns at the fire, shadows flickering across her face, and she glances back up at Avrian. "A ring is a significant gift. In human cultures, too, does that mean...?"

He doesn't mean to laugh but he does, once, sharply. "No, no," he says. "It wasn't a marriage. It was just - a practical thing, she insisted. Enchantments to help keep me from being killed."

She found him and Alistair in Fort Drakon, death in the wake of her and Zevran and Leliana, by the time the two wardens had barely cleared the fog of some likely concussions from their heads to figure out a plan of escape. Avrian's thought process had begun with something like: Alistair has long arms. He can grab the keys off of the guard's belt. He thought he was hallucinating when he saw Morrigan.

"You've put yourself through so much to search for her," Ariane says, pulling him back to the present, away from the memory of Zevran suggesting that the simplest way out of anywhere was always to find a window, Morrigan can heal our broken legs yes? "What will you do when you find her?"

In his dreams, he weaves together the perfect combination of words that makes her understand that whatever her mother taught her to believe, she does not have to live her life alone. She needs not hide. He will help her keep their child safe from anything that may come.

"I don't know," he admits. "But I can't lose her again."

Ariane looks sad when he says this, like she did when he first told her that he loves Morrigan, but the pity he once saw in her eyes is absent now. "We will find her," she promises him, and he remembers he once promised Morrigan the same thing, I will find you. "I swear it."

She has her own reasons to not give up the chase, but he could not have anticipated her care and concern. "Ma serannas, lethallan," he replies. "This would be a lonely journey without you." She beams and then ducks her head, picking up a stick from the ground and prodding the fire, though it has been crackling brightly without help. "And you, Finn," he adds, and the human boy, sprawled out on his back on a bedroll out of the firelight, absently scratching the mabari's ears, suddenly jerks his head around. "We would be lost without you."

Finn waves a hand dismissively up in the air. "Yeah, yeah, I know I'm crashing the Dalish party, slowing you down when without me you all know how to navigate dirt, mosquitoes, bears, and all those other unpleasant things about the wilderness. I know you didn't invite me along and didn't want me to and I just followed because I'd learned everything I could from the books about ancient elves and the eluvians. You don't have to -"

"Finn," Avrian repeats, and he is suddenly reminded of Alistair, Anders, brushing off insecurities, anger and fear and loneliness with jokes and rambling. What is it about the Chantry that makes the people it raises turn out like this? "I mean it. We'd be lost. Do you know what happened the first time I went looking for Morrigan without anyone who had a clue to guide me?"

Of course he doesn't, and Ariane doesn't, but Avrian sits back, propping himself up with his hands behind him, and stares up at the clear star-filled sky while he lets his words sink in. "Took a wrong turn at Kirkwall and ended up in Rialto."

"That doesn't make any sense," Ariane says. "Where did you mean to go? Even if you -"

"Ariane," Finn interrupts sternly, and then he drops his voice into a mock whisper. "I think he's joking."

"Creators forbid," Avrian says. "I have never in my life had a sense of humor and I certainly won't begin now." Finn laughs loudly and Ariane shakes her head, grinning like she doesn't want to find this funny. "This is a life lesson about having purpose and a clear destination in mind, to never wander idly -"

Ariane rolls her eyes. "Yes, of course, hahren," she says in the way that Avrian and Tamlen used to placate their elders before rushing off into another misadventure.

"- or else you'll find yourself in Antiva, assassinating assassins with your best friend, an assassin once hired to assassinate you."

"Sorry, what?" Finn asks, horror and disbelief and confusion all rolled into the two words.

Avrian's hands slide out from behind him until he is sprawled on his back, shaking with laughter. "We didn't know what else to do." He folds his arms beneath his head. "And I had never been north of the Minanter River, and he had been talking about going home, so I went with him."

"But you'd been to the Free Marches before?" Finn rolls over onto his side and props his head up with his hand. "What was Antiva like? Besides being full of assassins - my parents are nobles. Even I've heard of the Crows. Not that I've been anywhere near Antiva, or anywhere besides the Circle, really." Despite his complaints about the outdoors, the dangers and the general nuisances, he sounds almost wistful.

Ariane asks him where his parents live - West Hill - and Finn talks about how he is privileged as a Circle mage for getting to have contact with them, even if that contact mostly gifts him with hideous knitted hats. He asks Ariane where she is from, where she has traveled, and Avrian listens, his face turned up to the stars speckled across the clear sky. He read a book about the stars once, telling of the official constellations named by Tevinter, some of which were once speculated to have been images named for the gods of the elvhen instead. In the clan, there were a few common stories of the stars and so many more made up by generation after generation of children.

"So where's home for you, Avrian?" Finn asks, interrupting Avrian's attempts to remember where in the sky is Bellitanus, the Maiden, the Old God of Beauty.

It feels like a weight is coming back onto his chest, a sinking feeling dragging his tongue down and making it exhausting to speak words. I don't have one anymore sits heavy and bitter in his mouth. He closes his eyes. "We stayed mostly in some part of Ferelden or another. When the arlathvhens happened we would spend a while before and after in the southern Marches. Cumberland, Kirkwall, Ostwick. Furthest northeast we got was near Wycome."

He remembers Finn's earlier question, before he and Ariane began speaking of parents, something that Avrian does not have. "Zevran and I mostly traveled along the coast of Antiva. Antiva City was beautiful. I spent most of the time feeling like someone was going to mug me and leave me for dead in the middle of the street, but it was beautiful. Rained a lot, but not like Fereldan rain. It was warm."

"Do you ever feel tired of never getting to stay anywhere?"

He wants to say no, thinking of the people of his clan who he loves, the culture he is proud of, how his people took in Pol and others from alienages who fled the only life they had known for the chance to never settle. The alternative is worse. Ariane is saying something like that. Amaranthine's bustle was a crushing vice and its arl would rather deal with wolves than nobles. Vigil's Keep's old stone walls caged him - but so did the glances in Clan Sabrae's camp from the people who he grew up with, that pity in their eyes when they see the shadow of Tamlen and the blight nipping at his heels.

"Yes," he says when Ariane has gone silent, "but I've never found anywhere I want to stay, either."

Home for the Dalish is never a place but is a people, their people, the elvhen people, but Avrian thinks he has always let his concept of home hinge too much on individual people. Without them it has not mattered whether he is alone in a shemlen city or alone surrounded by his clanmates. He can hear Keeper now, this is no way to live, da'len, because the clan and the people should always come before a person, but this kind of loyalty, wasting away to bones for the sake of it, is bred into his blood. His mother left her clan, Mahariel, for his father, love outweighing fear of the unknown. When he died she chose again to follow. She loved him more than she feared death. She left her son her name, Mahariel, and a legacy of unwise, dangerous, and self-defeating choices.

Love is a weakness, Morrigan said, and he argued but he has always understood what she meant. For a time he chased death just like his mother did; he didn't find it and he finds that fortunate, now.

He had neither of his parents. He wants his child to have both.

He finds a voice to speak with again in the morning. Every footstep along the road through Amaranthine, through the wood and past Vigil's Keep looming tall over all the surrounding plain, is ground he has traced before. The stories he tells are his own experiences, of his Grey Wardens, but already they feel distant, blue-and-silver armor that he does not belong in as surely as he does not belong in Clan Sabrae or in Denerim. He tells Finn that he is the kind of person that he would recruit for the wardens and Finn sputters for a moment, weighing accepting the compliment without reservation against his disinclination to spend his life fighting. Ariane rolls her eyes.

"What will you do after this?" Avrian asks - an open offer to go to the wardens if he wants, but never to be forced upon him should he not. When Finn answers, it is to suggest that he would return to the Circle to turn his firsthand experience and research back into academic papers, but he sounds uncertain now, equal to the wistfulness that Avrian could hear when he asked about Antiva and the Free Marches.

"Back to the Circle?" Ariane repeats, aghast. "But you could go anywhere!"

"And spend all that time running from Templars?"

"It's not like you'll be free of them in the Circle, either. My clan could give you advice on where the best places with fewest Templars are. It's something we have to worry about, too."

"Don't go to Kirkwall," Avrian says. He wishes his clan hadn't - he wishes they had left, and left Merrill behind, rather than spend two years at mercy of shems that will one day lose their patience with the clan camped on the outskirts of their city. Their varterral isn't meant to protect them from soldiers and Templars.

"There's a lot of reasons I would never go to Kirkwall," Finn replies. Avrian does not ask. He worries enough over the stories he knows.

He tries to write a letter to Merrill that night when he takes first watch, sitting close enough to the fire that sparks leap through the air and land on the pages of his journal. With his thumb he blots them out into little ash marks around the words, eluvian, Ariane's clan has information, this Circle mage has information, they would be willing to share -

He tears the paper from the binding and throws it onto the fire and watches the edges blacken and curl until it crumbles into ash. She would think him trying to placate her, or this too at Keeper's behest when Marethari would probably disapprove of his fool's errand, too.

I went back to the cave, he writes on a fresh sheet. Sealed it, and he drops a large blot of ink on the page trying to think. So no one can die from that eluvian again, except you.

He scratched out the words and then rips the page in half and crumples it. Fen'Falon whimpers. "What am I even supposed to say to her?" he asks. It's a pointless question - it isn't like Fen'Falon knows Merrill, knows what would convince her, knows how to make her stop. And Avrian knows her - knew her, thought he knew her - and where has it gotten him? "What am I supposed to say to Morrigan?"

I love you. Please. Please don't.

He presses his face into his hands. That hasn't ever worked before. How many times will he beg it of the people he loves?

He closes his journal and tucks the ink back into his bag. He lets the fire eat the words he'll never send to Kirkwall.

Bones litter the hilltops, ribs broken to sharp edges that scrape the black sky, skulls leering down with jagged grins. If the Forgotten Ones might still lurk anywhere in the mortal realm, it is here in these wastes. What is it that draws dragons here to die? Do they feel something different than this cold unease that clutches at Avrian's spine? He fought his way through these wastes two years before, descending to the deep to confront beasts that even his nightmares could not create. It is quiet now, and even Finn has not spoken for a while since they began upon the winding path across the uneven ground and between the peaks crowned by bones.

He looks around for any sign of his ancestors, some broken ruin of his people, but nothing in the crumbled archways marks them as elvish in origin. Who would choose to venture into the graveyard of dragons for anywhere else to go? Avrian scrambles up a nearby hill, up the boulders and sliding on moss, and scans the wastes for an idea of which direction to continue in. For a moment he entertains the idea that some of the Architect's darkspawn, or perhaps even Seranni, may still linger in the area, with some knowledge of where the eluvian is hidden. He closes his eyes, breathing in the scent of the mud and the damp air and reaching with his mind for any trace of the blight.

He calls for that which most often calls him and his reply is the sound of the air passing through his lungs. He is alone.

"It all looks the same," Finn says when Avrian returns to the path through the gully. "How do we even know where to look?" He shakes his head. "The ancient Tevinters probably hid it here hoping that the magic of dragon bones would strengthen its power."

Tevinter, of course, Tevinter - it is the Imperium's ruins that they seek, not those of Avrian's ancestors. A bubble of anger bursts in his stomach at all that is lost, all that was stolen, and Morrigan - Morrigan simply follows a long precedent of taking without asking, without compensation, thinking to know better, to better use it. Standing with his boots sinking in the rotten leaves, bare treetops branching and silhouetted in shapes like his vallaslin, Merrill's hopeless quest makes sense. As Avrian has loved people, Tamlen, Morrigan, more than his own life, so she loves the People more than her own life.

Funny, he thinks, that Tamlen, the troublemaker, who took them by the hands and led them into his schemes and their inevitable punishments, was the one who pulled them back from destroying themselves. Funny that he should be their anchor, holding down flighty Merrill from chasing dangerous dreams of the past, holding up Avrian who would too easily allow himself to drown. Somehow the ties of clan and culture were not enough to keep either of them once Tamlen was gone.

"But we still don't even know what it does," Ariane is saying. "Strengthen its power to do what?"

"Communication," Finn says. "Somehow, the ancient Tevinters - and I guess the elves too - used them to communicate."

"It's a mirror," Ariane says. "What would a mirror -"

They continue talking, throwing ideas at each other, as Avrian starts again along the bare path, letting it take him where it may. They have no other leads. He bends down and tries to tug part of a dragon's rib free of Fen'Falon's teeth. He pulls away, growling though he wags his stumpy tail, and when Avrian reaches again he bounds away, entire body wiggling with excitement. "Fen," he calls, sighing. "Fen, that's not a toy. You're going to make something angry."

"Everything's dead here," Finn says. "Sure, the bones are all magic, but it's not like -"

"Let me stop you," Avrian says, raising a hand in a motion to cut him off and directing his firmest glare at the mabari. "And I'll just tell you about the time I fought a dead dragon in the Blackmarsh."

Halfway through the story, Fen'Falon drops the bone.

When he finishes, Ariane is shaking her head and Finn laughs in disbelief. Avrian loves that tale to watch the struggle on listeners' faces of whether or not such a thing could truly happen. He can picture how Morrigan will react when he tells her: immediate acceptance of its truth because she has seen too much at his side through the blight, but exasperation that surely he should know better than to toy with forces stronger and stranger than he knows.

And yet, that is exactly what she does.

Ghilan'nain, guide me, he prays, tilting his head back to the sky and the cold coastal wind. Give me a sign to show me the way home.

Now that Finn reminded him that Tevinter last held the eluvians, he can recognize the archways as resembling those that line the Imperial Highway. Would the magisters have marked the path to their stolen treasure or instead would they hoard it, keep it secret? Housed in an old ruin, Finn said, but nothing of a road. And guarded by a varterral - what Keeper set one at its doors after the Tevinters left? How do these histories jumble together?

Avrian leads them off the path over the rocky ground. They move slower now, meandering, waiting for Finn catch up, unused to the uneven footing as he is. Avrian expects a remark from either of them about how he does not know where he is going, how this has turned to confused wandering when they are so close to their goal, but they give him silence as they traverse the wastes searching for anything that could be a mark in the right direction.

Ariane finds it first, calling him over to examine an old warding glyph. It has faded, magic long worn off, but the symbol he recognizes as a sign that Marethari and Merrill refresh each time they return to Sundermount: be wary. A guardian dwells close by.

Fen'Falon whines. When Avrian looks at him, he stretches forward a moment, one foot lifted, pointing; and then he whines again and presses close to the ground. "Do you smell something?" Avrian asks. "Hear something?" He places a hand on the mabari's back to find that he is shaking. "What's wrong?"

Ariane draws her swords. Finn clutches his staff so tightly that his hands shake and his knuckles are white. Avrian sloughs his pack from his shoulders and nocks an arrow to his bow and steps forward. There is always one way to find out.

He emerges from between boulders into a clearing, the ground inset with smooth stone and circling by broken archways between boulders, like this once enclosed a courtyard. To his left, a tower stands, topped by a dome and weathered by too many years. A shriek splits the air, not like the sound of shrieks - something earthier and deeper, but higher-pitched than the echoing rumble of dragons.

He remembers then that the curious and foolish children of the clan were always told to tread lightly on the Sundermount, and not just because of spirits and spiders and ghosts of the dead. Their own guardian, spun of wind and earth and wood with life breathed into them by the Creators, was just as dangerous.

And through all the years he never heard it angry. He never heard its roar.

The varterral looms into view on top of the tower, its movements insect-like silhouetted against the dark sky. Behind him, Finn chokes out a question and Ariane answers breathless and awed. Avrian does not listen to their words and takes several more cautious steps forward, standing exposed beneath the tower, amongst the tall columns. The creature's eyeless head swings about and slows to fix on him. It scuttles from its perch down the side of the tower like a spider. "Andaran atish'an, mirthadra elgar," Avrian says quietly, and the varterral stops as the vibrations of his voice carry to it, waiting above the ground for his next words. "Var shemlen na vhenallin. Ir garas ghilas vir'eluvian. Las mala'enaste."

"You think you can convince it?" Finn whispers from behind him. Ariane shushes him with a hiss.

Words uttered in the old language are not enough - perhaps nothing grants a shemlen entrance or perhaps guarding the eluvian is too important to allow even two of the People to pass - and with another cry the varterral springs. Its movements are fluid, graceful even, but it lands heavy, stone cracking beneath its feet on impact. "Run!" Ariane yells.

Finn needs no convincing but Avrian runs toward the creature, weaving between its legs as it slams feet down in locations he stood a moment ago. The skin on its underside is lighter in color, like pale flesh rather than brown-gray bark or stone, and Avrian lodges an arrow in its throat and one in its stomach. It skitters backwards with a speed that golems and ogres and even dragons lack and it turns with ease, rather than taking a ponderous few seconds that give an easy opening.

Its huge jaws open to a gaping maw that is half of Avrian's height and the carved teeth along its jaw drip acid. The droplets sizzle when they hit the ground and the great body shudders, head bobbing forth and back again. The skin along its throat ripples. Fen'Falon is barking and Avrian sees him from the corner of his eyes, starting to approach and stopping to cower back, loyalty to his master at war with instincts of self-preservation.

Apathy and exhaustion trained Avrian out of his a long time ago.

But still he has seen that look in dragons but also his own mabari vomiting twigs onto Leliana's boots, and he runs, dodging and leaping erratically and the poison the creature spits forth hisses on the ground behind him. "Distract it!" he yells, vaulting over a boulder to land in the hollow where Ariane and Finn have hidden. Finn clutches his staff like it is all that tethers him to this world and not the Beyond. Avrian stands, firing an arrow over his shoulder in the direction of the varterral. "Finn - fireballs, lightning, distracting wisps, anything. There’s lyrium somewhere in my bag if that helps you. Ariane, I need your swords." He swings his quiver from his shoulder and pushes it and his bow into her hands. "Lay down cover fire for me."

Ariane blinks, fumbling for a moment between his bow and her swords, but the blades are in his hands. For a moment he is Commander of the Grey again, surveying inbound darkspawn and giving orders over the nervous chatter over the new recruits, taking input of move quicker, exercise less caution, take the risk, from Sigrun and Oghren, and slow down, from Nathaniel, and Velanna stands aside, haughty, aloof, acting as though every suggestion Avrian could make is a stupid one. He learned to tell the difference between when she approved a plan and when she genuinely thought it was a bad call.

He thinks then, suddenly, that he will miss her most.

She would be right to call this one an idiotic idea, though.

"What are you doing?" Finn asks. Avrian peers back over the rocks, expecting to see the varterral bearing down on them - surely it can hear or smell them, surely they are out of time. But it has turned from them, spitting and snarling down at Fen'Falon, barking and sprinting between pillars as bubbling acid splatters to the ground around him.

"Fen!" Avrian yells, scrambling up onto the boulder, grasping for the bow that he does not have with him. The varterral's head swings around. "Get out of there!" He forces himself to stay crouched in place, watching helplessly as his mabari bolts out of the way of the snarling creature. "Finn, Ariane, get its attention, get it over here!"

"I thought you were - what are you going to do?" Ariane demands. The arrow she shoots clatters off of the varterral's thick shell.

"I'm going to kill it if you just -"

"Hey!" Finn yells. He throws a fireball at the varterral. It explodes near its head. "Hey, ugly!" He stands exposed now, between boulders, and the varterral abandons its pursuit to scuttle toward Finn. "You want the nice tasty human? Come over here!"

That would not have been Avrian's first, second, or third choice for get it over here. "Finn-!"

The mage shrugs his shoulders and waves his staff. His second fireball flakes apart at the varterral's feet and it scrabbles back, shaking heat from its legs, and it snaps at another arrow flying past its jaws. Finn takes the moment to run, shouting insults back at the creature. It tilts its head back and forth, its nose following Finn's path through the hills. Avrian gages the distance to the varterral - too far without being able to take a running start, or just in range - and he sucks in his breath, braces himself, and leaps.

Ariane screams and then Finn does. The varterral shrieks when Avrian lands on its back, flailing for hold as it bucks in an attempt to throw him off. He slides sideways down its back, leaning his weight forward until he is about to fall headfirst to the ground. He stabs it, driving both of the swords deep into it, and it shrieks, tossing its body about, but with free hands he grabs hold of the top of one of its legs and hangs as he slips the rest of the way from its back, kicking at the air.

A wave of heat batters one side of his body and the residual flash of fire fades sooner than the warmth. The varterral howls and jerks backward but does not seem to move. Avrian glances down at the ground nearly ten feet below him and sees that ice has encased one of the creature's feet. As it tries to chip away at the ice, another of its feet is frozen to the ground. Avrian pulls himself up again onto its back, pulling a sword free as he inches his way up toward its head. Spindly hands, strangely small and thin for the body like the Creators belatedly realized they wanted to give the creature hands but had only a few twigs left to build those, scrape at the ice and then the varterral twists its upper body to swat at Avrian. He stands, a hand on its shoulder joint to balance, and when from its movements the pale flesh of its throat and chin become visible, he stabs upward, into its head.

The roar that breaks loose from its jaws is a strangled sound and its head and neck fall forward, sending Avrian tumbling over himself and over its head. He catches himself from its nose, hanging in front of its gaping mouth. Its neck is flecked with more arrows and Avrian kicks the hilt of the sword to drive it in deeper. The varterral's body spasms one last time and its legs not iced in place splay out in every direction. Avrian tumbles to the ground with it.

He lays dazed, sprawled on the ground half beneath a leg, for a few moments until the clouded black sky stops spinning. "Fenedhis," he gasps. Slowly, he sits up, dragging himself away from the varterral's body. Fen'Falon's angry barking fills his ears and the mabari rushes up to headbutt him in the face. "I know, I know, I'm an idiot," he says, leaning his head against the dog's shoulder.

"Avrian! Avrian! Avrian, are you dead?"

He snorts and regrets the movement, lungs sore from impact, but the fear starts to ease from their faces when they see him partially upright. "That was -" Finn struggles for a word.

"Reckless," Ariane says.

"Yeah," Finn agrees, "but also amazing."

Tamlen would be proud. The thought wells up in laughter in his chest and he doubles over, wheezing from his aching body and from mirth. He lets himself ignore Ariane and Finn's onset confusion and concern. Tamlen would find it hilarious. He would have laughed, or maybe he would have been the one to suggest that tactic - or maybe he would have done it himself, without suggestion, with Avrian yelling after him, because Tamlen could never have witnessed Avrian being the troublemaking brother-in-arms that he always wanted. It was his ghost just over Avrian's shoulder, whispering in his ear - it was his bones beneath his feet and the shadow of the trees that his grave should become like someday - that shaped him into this.

He accepts the hand that Ariane offers to help him to his feet. "Are you all right?" she asks, looking him over with concern, only letting go of his hand when he nods.

The breaths he tries to take before he speaks ache, as does the motion of leaning over to draw one of Ariane's swords forth from the varterral's body. “Sometimes you have to wonder how you came to the point of killing one of your people’s own ancient guardians,” he says, to provide some, any, sort of explanation. Finn laughs nervously like he isn’t sure if it’s a joke. Avrian isn’t either. Velanna would be angry with him over this, if she knew. Merrill told him once that a varterral killed will always one day rise again for as long as it is bound to a location to guard. The thought lessens some of the guilt until he tries to imagine telling her that he threw himself at this danger chasing down the greater danger of the mirrors, when he broke their friendship apart criticizing her for burying herself in researching the same greater danger.

Morrigan pursues it too, and she is closest – closest to danger and closest to save. He hands Ariane her sword and accepts his bow back and goes to find his pack.

The arched doorway of the tower leads them into a dark expanse. Shadows bear down on his head with stifling weight, and the stairs, stone worn by hundreds of feet hundreds of years ago, spiral down into a similar blackness. Avrian fumbles for the pouch on his belt where he keeps flint and tinder, but cold orange light appearing behind him throws his shadow long against the old walls. He steps down while behind him Ariane and Finn argue about whether Finn with the light in his hands should actually be first or last in line. Fen'Falon barks at them.

"He agrees with me," Finn says. "You should go ahead. I -"

"Didn't you listen? He agrees with me," Ariane says.

It was like this with the wardens, too, some days, his pace slowed by the need to stop arguments behind him and herd everyone into position. "He says you both should start moving," Avrian calls up at them. His voice bounces off of the stone around them. White spots flicker across his vision from the attempt to adapt again to the darkness ahead after glancing straight at the fire.

He waits until they are right behind him, and he draws an arrow from his quiver and dips the fletching into Finn's fire to make his own torch. "If you're not going to hurry," he says, lowering his light so that he can see the path beneath his feet. They are close. The air in most of the ancient ruins he has traversed feels the same as this: cold and thrumming with the kind of energy like a storm. He bounds across the stairs two at a time until the spinning makes his head and stomach twist in knots, and then he holds one hand along the wall to keep himself balanced. A thousand years of dust and dirt rubs off on his fingertips as he watches his feet to avoid glancing down the center of the spiral at the emptiness he could fall into.

He jumps down the last five stairs and turns in a circle until the light finds a break in the walls, a doorway that lacks clear shape or decoration, nothing like the arched entrance he first passed through. The tunnel ceiling is low enough that he can touch it. Whoever built the tower above seemed to give up below and beneath his feet the ground has the crunch of hard-packed and slightly damp sand. It is winding but mostly level and he runs. He runs until the movement blows out his torch and then he fumbles his way along until Fen'Falon and Ariane catch up to him, and Finn moments later, panting, wisps dangling in the air around him. "You can't slow down?" he gasps. "Just for -"

"No."

Avrian's fist is clenched tight enough that his ring digs into his fingers on either side. If she really does not want to be found, he cannot take her by surprise or catch her no matter how fast he runs. She will vanish, would have vanished as soon as she noticed that his movements formed a pattern of pursuit - if she noticed, if she still kept track of him, if she had not given up assuming that he gave up.

He likes to think that she knew him better than that.

The tunnel spits him out into a huge cavern and he freezes simply with shock at the expanse. The path continues twisting through a still lake. Faint light illuminates the area like a cloudy dusk and dusty fog hangs in the distance, shrouding the broken columns that rise from water and the archways halfway crumbled that hang like stalactites, fangs from the skull of the ceiling. Into the mist, dragon ribs curl up from the ground alongside the path, sentinels long dead flanking the hill marked by one of the only undamaged structures. Two statues rise out of a pedestal, turned toward the tall mirror that peaks in a point between them.

The eluvian casts its own light. Hues of bold and unnatural purple shimmer and drift across its surface.

Silhouetted in front of it, close, too close, stands a woman.

"The eluvian!" Finn breathy voice echoes loud, excited and fearful, all at once. "It's - glowing?"

Avrian runs.

"Morrigan!"

She doesn't turn or even flinch. She must have known. Fen'Falon barks loudly, rushing up to Avrian's side and then past him, galloping toward the eluvian. At the second bark, Morrigan does turn, shadowed by the light behind her, but she kneels down and reaches for the mabari that careens into her arms, yapping with delight. Her greeting is more enthusiastic than she has ever been with him before, patting his neck and rubbing his ears.

When she lifts her head, though, her smile fades, and her golden eyes lock on to his. Is it anger or sadness that she turns on him? Avrian falters. The ten feet between them feels deeper a gulf than over two years. "Come no closer, please," she says. His chest clenches at the sound of her voice, cold, betraying nothing, but the firm set of her eyes falls into something regretful. "One more step and I will leave - for good, this time." She stands, scratching Fen'Falon's head as he whines, and she steps back toward the eluvian, brushing her hand across the surface. It ripples beneath her fingers like water.

"Morrigan," he pleads, and he isn't sure at first what argument he means to make, where to even begin - two years and he stands here like a memory, with Tamlen then, the ripples multiplying as lightning crackles across the surface, that is the same, and the outcome, she was there, she helped him build Tamlen's pyre. "Get away from there, vhenan, please -"

"’Tis not tainted," she says, and something in her voice has softened as well as on her face. "Not as yours was. I have gone to great lengths to find this; I would not have activated this portal were I not sure."

He has left behind everything to find her; he cannot lose her. This picture has presented itself to him in nightmares. He cannot stomach the thought, can barely swallow screaming panic as the air hums with the metallic, almost musical, shriek of the eluvian. "Please," he repeats. "Vhenan, please."

She takes one step forward, and then another, and Fen'Falon weaves his way around her legs, behind her, placing himself between her and the eluvian. "Did I not ask you to swear to not follow?" she asks, almost accusingly.

Fear has tangled together with relief and he wants to scream and kiss her and drag her far away from here, but horrible heartbeat after heartbeat has passed and he is still here, she is still here, nothing has burst forth from the mirror in blight and blinding light to take her from him. “You waited,” he says. He cannot shut his eyes to the bones, the eluvian, the ruins, but the confusion of the conversation is familiar, the same sort of years ago. Love is not a weakness. Why must you leave when the battle with the archdemon is done? Where will you go? Why can you not tell me?

"And should you give me reason, I shall step through." She eyes the eluvian with some sort of pride. "To activate this portal even once was difficult. It will not be used again."

"A portal?" he echoes and the ground sways, or maybe it is him, shaking, sickly, crushed under the weight of memory and grief and guilt. A portal - I see something! Tamlen says, excitedly, leaning close to the mirror, nose to the churning surface. A city? A - something's moving!

A portal. Tamlen, vanished from the cave, from the forest; Tamlen in the Frostbacks, south of Orzammar, north of Cad'Halash. Avrian had barely wondered how, only why, a question he has continued to ask across years and now again more than ever.

"Yes, a portal," she says. "To another place, beyond this world and beyond the Fade." Her eyes finally move from him, up past him, and she says, louder, "You will find your book by my campfire. It was quite useful to me."

Avrian glances over his shoulder in time to see Ariane frown and then he turns quickly back to Morrigan. She has not disappeared as soon as he moved his eyes from her. The eluvian has not snatched her away. "You stole it," he says and the indignation that rises does not feel his own, but something by proxy from all of his people, shouldered in this brief moment by him alone. "You could have asked to borrow it, you could have asked for help, you could have -"

She folds her arms across her chest and shifts her weight on her feet, frowning, and she says, her voice gone cold, "Do you pretend to know me at all? Or do you cling to some idealized memory and it is that which you pursue, not the woman who truly stands before you?"

"Allies and friends aren't a bad thing to have," Avrian says. Another conversation from long ago, by campfires in Redcliffe and the Brecilian Forest, near different kinds of danger that still necessitated fear of the taint. "You could have, rather than go to a people who have so little and try to make an enemy of them by stealing one of the few things they have kept." As bitter as the frustration that falls from his tongue is, it dissipates instantly, and exhaustion batters him in heavy waves. "Did you think you would leave less of a trail if you just disappeared?"

"Perhaps it was my mistake to think that you would not so easily collect the band of cast-offs that you needed to reach your goal." Her lips twitch but then the look is gone. "You will never understand me," she says, and her tone is harsh, but she still cannot harden her face into anger over the sad regret crossing her features, framed by the strange shadows of the eluvian’s light. "Nor I you."

If he knew that it was what she truly wanted, not simply Flemeth's influence shaping her to believe she cannot be anything otherwise, he could let her go. He could carve his heart from his chest.

Even softer, she adds, "You kept the ring."

She sounds surprised.

"Of course I did."

"Tell me, is that the reason you came? Because you who once argued that love is not a weakness do not know when to let go?"

She saved his life; she is the mother of his child; he tried and cannot live with the ghosts in his clan but does not wish to die with the wardens; and he thought about none of that as soon as Finn uttered word about the mirrors. He is afraid for her; he is afraid to be alone.

"I love you," he says. "Isn't that enough?"

She blinks her golden eyes shut and slowly shakes her head once. "Then help me understand," he begs. "What is your plan for the eluvians? For the child? For -" He stops. "Where is our child?"

"He is safe," she says, and his head spins with worry, with glee, a son, does he look like Morrigan or like me or like both of us or neither, I have a son, "and he knows nothing of the destiny that lies before him. He is an innocent, but to prepare him for what is to come, I must have time, and power. More than that I dare not say, not even to you. If I cannot have your trust then instead you may give me your anger."

"Prepare for what?" Avrian asks. "What is coming?"

She teased him often for having so many questions for her and everyone. She does not look so amused now. "Change," she answers. "The world is changing, and soon, I will assure you, it will look to be a very different place. I will not be caught by surprise. I will preserve what I can of a world that has already long been corrupted, and I will not resist what is to come as so many others do with every fiber of their being. Sometimes change is needed. Sometimes, change is what sets us free."

"Is freedom what you want?"

He expects the question to be one that she scoffs at, rolls her eyes and answers in words that make sense only to her, but she looks taken aback and manages to say, "What I want is..." before she trails off, blinking, and then she looks down at her hands. "What I want," she repeats, more firmly, "is unimportant now. And you," she adds quickly, like she knows he will protest and press that point unless she does not give him an opening, "would do well to, if you must hunt and interrogate anyone, hunt Flemeth, not me."

"I killed Flemeth," Avrian says. She saved his and Alistair's lives and they killed her, put a sword through her skull like they would the archdemon half a year later. Her bones, picked clean, sank half into the muck of the Wilds, a monument to the mad reckless loyalty that carried Avrian back to her hut to see what should have been a confirmation of her death two years ago.

"My mother," and she utters the words with something of a sneer, "has tricked her way past death. I thought she craved immortality. I thought I knew her supposed ends, and the means by which she aimed to reach them. I was wrong." The admittance is heavy, alarmed. It is almost fear that flashes across her eyes. "So very, very wrong. She is no simple blood mage, no mere abomination - she is not even truly human."

If it was not to steal her daughter's body, then what was it that Asha'Bellanar wanted of Morrigan - and what was it that she aimed for the soul of an Old God? Have they still played into her talons? "What is she?"

Morrigan's eyes are wide. "I am not sure."

"And if she wants revenge on us for her... death? If she -" He lets out all of his breath and closes his eyes. "She's why you're running."

He expects her to argue, as a point of pride and resentment toward the creature who called herself her mother. Perhaps it is time that had blunted that edge; perhaps it is necessary concern for a helpless child. "There is much in the world that would like to do me and the child harm."

For one stupid, stupid moment, Avrian wonders if she even named him.

"I'm the Warden-Commander of Ferelden," he says instead. "I'm the Arl of Amaranthine - I have a fortress, I have armies. If we need to kill Flemeth a dozen more times - whatever it might take to keep you and our son safe - I can offer it. I kept the ring so that if you needed to - if you wanted to - you could find me. So that if you needed a home, Amaranthine would welcome you."

"I wish to owe no one nothing. I will have no debts incurred on my behalf." She takes a few more steps toward him, down from the pedestal, but she glances away, out over the water.

"It would not be a debt, vhenan. That is not how love works."

She turns back, raising her head, her chin jutting out at him, the picture of regality and arrogance and he loved her in spite of that and because of that and he loves her now still. "I will have no one die protecting me when I may protect myself."

"Then let me come with you."

He blurts the words like a panicked reaction, desperate for anything that she will not dismiss immediately, any way to show her she does not have to live life alone. Morrigan's mouth falls open and then closes in silence. He wants to close the last of the distance between them but he forces himself to remain where he is, not close enough but too close to the mirror and the echoing crackles of activity that cascade across its surface. "Help me understand - wherever you go, wherever you choose to live free, outside of the world, away from the dangers - let me follow. Let me come with you."

It seems that is the one argument she was unprepared to have, the one request she did not expect to hear. "You... you cannot know what you ask," she says. "You would give up - everything? The power and prestige of Amaranthine?" She stumbles across the words, speaking faster than usual, composure flaking apart. She hesitates, before seeming to realize that her values – power, survival – are not the same that he was raised with, and she goes on. "How many times did you say you would return to your clan after the blight? Should you not be with them?"

"I tried," he says, a confession never made out loud that he probably should have put word to long ago. "I tried to go back to the clan, live that way again, I did. I've changed too much to have a place with them and I never wanted the place I have in the wardens. I want to be with you, Morrigan, wherever that may be."

“Truly?” she asks, quieter. “Truly, you would – for me?”

“I would. I will.”

It is a welcome change to want to live for love, rather than to wish to die.

She does not speak but closes the years between them and takes his face in her hands and kisses him. Two years ago they stood outside of Denerim’s gates and he pulled her to him like he does now and hoped, hoped against hope, that she would change her mind. “Then let us go,” she says, her forehead against his, her mouth at his ear. The word us flips his stomach in a kind of childish giddiness, the same of when he presented her with a golden mirror, beaming, trying to draw forth one of her rare smiles, rarest laughs.

He reaches up to take her hand, tangle her fingers with his, and he turns halfway around, nearly tripping over Fen’Falon who is suddenly behind him. Finn and Ariane both seem to be conspicuously looking anywhere else and he can’t help but laugh. Ariane clutches the book to her chest, fingers curled protectively around the edges, and she tilts her head as she says to him, “You never mentioned you had a child.”

He tried a few times to tell even Alistair, Zevran, Leliana, but the words never came, never properly formed. He never let Oghren quite understand why he snapped and hissed with more fury ever directed at any of his own friends, for walking away from his family to join the wardens. Ariane, helpful as she is, close as they quickly became -

“No,” he says. “I didn’t.”

She hums acknowledgement of his words and he steps forward, not releasing Morrigan’s hand, to face her. “Ma serannas. Ma malava halani, lethallan.” He reaches out to touch her hand, still clasped around the book, and he turns then to Finn, patting his shoulder. “And thank you for your help, lethallin. Take care of each other.”

Fen’Falon barks, sidling up to them and demanding some last ear rubs. Morrigan tugs on his hand, drawing him back toward her, up the steps to the eluvian. He tries not to look back. They stand shoulder to shoulder, Ariane with her hand raised in farewell, the book open in her other palm and Finn holds the other edge, pointing to something on the page, nudging her with his elbow.

His hand in hers might be trembling and then it slips away when he cannot make himself move with her, up close to the warping surface that spins before him, dark and storming. The air around it vibrates and the hairs on his arm stand on end. He is locked in place, ghosts dragging him back. She touches her fingertips to the surface and spiraling circles move in waves out from her hand. Everything in him is screaming, get away from there Tamlen, Merrill, Morrigan, two years of nightmares congealing in this moment.

You’re not going to leave without taking a closer look at it, are you, Avrian? I wonder what it is.

It’s a portal, Tamlen, and I am taking a closer look than I ever wanted to.

If he faints from this nauseous feeling, hopefully he will manage to fall forward through the eluvian.

Tamlen would find that funny too.

“Come, my love,” Morrigan says. Fen’Falon nudges Avrian’s hip, urging him forward, and when he doesn’t move the mabari trots forward himself, to Morrigan’s side, tongue lolling, entirely at ease. She glances back at him, eyes piercing through him, down to his heart. Does she remember Tamlen’s rotting body, screaming at Avrian to kill him? – She was the one who did, after all.

The mirror sings and parts around her like a sheet of falling water and she is gone and he cannot feel his heart beating frantically in his chest anymore. Fen’Falon practically bounces after her, and he disappears, and Avrian is there, still, unable to breathe, he is a ghost, some warped memory stripped down to bones of the man who last stood before an active eluvian.

Fear looms in front of him, confronting him, daring him to run. Cold shards of fear cut between his ribs, reaching for his heart.

He loves her more. He follows her through.

Avrian’s words to the varterral: Greetings, honored spirit. Our shemlen is a Friend of the People. I come to go to the path of the eluvian. Grant us your blessing.

Avrian’s farewell to Ariane: Thank you. You helped me.

on ao3

#warden mahariel #morrigan #is there a ship name for that. like a standardized fandom thing.#morrigan/warden #GUYS I FINISHED IT I'M SO HYYYPE #avrian mahariel #trash kid writing #well i guess this is an oc tag #otp: mirror mirror

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daily-yoificrec · 7 years

Text

May 2017 rec roundup

As people wished, here is a top ten list for fics that were updated/posted in the month of May that I recommended! (Under read more. All fics have additional comments/thoughts on them)

1. no chandelier or spotlight (see you better lit) by drowsycyborg || Rated M, 7k (WIP)

“This is Katsuki Yuuri!” Viktor exclaims. “He’s a writer. The one who wrote the screenplay for the Best Picture, David, I know you were asking. Anyway, he’s Yuuri, and also my—”

“—boyfriend,” Yuuri finishes with a smile. “I’m Vitya’s boyfriend.”

Or, the one in Viktor is an actor and Yuuri is his no-name writer friend and they pretend to date.

Comment: GOLD. SUDDEN GOD HOLY SHIT THIS WAS GREAT AND AN ABSOLUTE DELIGHT TO FIND. ACTORS AU AND FAKE DATING AU, BUT NOT IN THE USUAL FAKE DATING SENSE THAT YOU EXPECT FROM ACTOR AUS. 10/10 RECOMMEND IT’S OFF TO A GREAT START I HAVE BEEN EXCITED TO REC THIS ONE EVER SINCE I READ IT TWO DAYS AGO

щ(゜ロ゜щ) I LOVE IT

Addition: okay so, I love actor aus and I love fake dating aus, and while together they’re somewhat common, this one has a different take that’s incredibly refreshing and just overall great. The existing relationship between Victor and Yuuri is fabulous, and just — I wholly endorse this. Even though it’s only in its beginning I have really high expectations for it.

2. The nostalgic feeling of the familiar by myoue || Rated G, 19k (WIP)

Yuuri’s the one who suggested being fake engaged in the first place, tugging Victor along on such a convoluted plan at the start of cherry blossom season.

“So, I brought him as promised. My boyfriend.”

Victor’s hand jerks. “What?”

“My fiancé, actually,” Yuuri talks swiftly over him.

Victor’s hand jerks again, nearly spilling tea over the sides of his cup.

Comment: This??? This fic is like??? Finding a sudden treasure in the middle of the fucking desert??? It’s so good??? I did not expect to suddenly find such a good fake relationship fic in the middle of Hell Month??? It’s contemplative and touching and quiet, and it looks fantastic so far.

HIGHLY recommend, like goddamn.

Addition: contemplative and touching and quiet indeed, this fic has a certain tone that takes your breath away. Victor’s perspective in this, being unable to entirely understand Yuuri, is such a great thing in how he’s confused but also surprised but also delighted. This too, is off a good beginning. Also, fake engagement trope? hell yeah.

3. Yuuri Enchanted by the__magpie || Rated T, 57.8k

At birth, Yuuri Katsuki was given the gift of obedience, although he quickly learns as he grows up that it is a curse. He has to obey any command given to him, even if it puts him or others in danger. Too afraid to face the terrifying outside world, Yuuri stays in his home town of Hasetsu, until a chance encounter with Prince Victor urges him to venture outside of his safe bubble. Determined to break his curse, Yuuri begins on an adventure involving fairies, ogres, true love, and courage he never knew he had.

Comment: I’ve recced this before, but it’s finally completed, so it earns another rec! It was an enjoyable read all the way through, and while I did scream in frustration a little at Yuuri, I really do love this fic and the way it ended. A really good read for anyone that likes fairytale-esque fics.

Addition: While I wasn’t familiar with the souce material, and waas taken off-guard at times, this fic was a fun ride all the way. Victor and Yuuri are terribly cute in this, and Yuuri’s determination is a wonderful thing, even if he does some stupid things occasionally. But overall it’s just... a really solid fic, and I’m very happy to have read it to the end.

4. The Ties That Bind by QueBae | Rated T, 31.8k (WIP)

Summary: The first time Viktor saw Yuri Plisetsky was by pure chance at a private rink in Moscow, skating for his dedushka. He thought they would never meet again but it seemed he was lucky in life.

“Papochka!” Yuri called out and Viktor swore his heart stopped beating. Yuri hadn’t addressed him as atsets, heck, he didn’t even call him papa! Yuri said papochka. Papochka! It was a more affectionate, almost cutesy way of calling your papa and it was quickly turning to be Viktor’s favourite word. Did Yuri know that Viktor was somehow his father?

Then Yuri started dashing towards Viktor and all his earlier doubts regarding Yuri had been wiped clean from his mind. Viktor immediately darted off and all that was running through his mind at the time was Yuri, Yuri, my son, Yuri! Viktor had waited to hold this boy in his arms, wanting to tell him how proud he was and how much he had grown. Viktor decided he didn’t want to waste any more time being separated from his Yuri.

His little boy, Yuri.

Or the single dad feat. ballet AU I’ve always wanted to write that no one asked for.

Comment: I fuckin love this fic. The summary is deceiving, but in the best way possible. Victor is so very over his head that it’s obvious, and little child Yuri is a great mix of spitfire and cute that other fics don’t balance out well. Yuuri as a character interests me as well, and the latest update was just so sickeningly cute ugh *clutches chest*

Addition: I live for fics that have a parental relationship, not just focusing on the vicyuu. Victor in this is wonderfully lovestruck, Yuuri is a wonderful parent, and Yuri is portrayed in a way that fits with the behavior of a child but still, at the essence, has the characteristics of the canon Yuri we know and love. I tremendously recommend this. （。＞ω＜）。

5. Once You Go Greek by Defiant-Dreams (baterina_1234) || Rated M, 39.3k

Even when Viktor was still rushing, he already knew that one day, he was going to be the president of Mu Sigma Delta. Here are three things Viktor’s learned from Mu:

1) Go for what you want.

2) Make use of what you have.

3) Everyone in Alpha Kappa Omega is an asshole.

But then Viktor meets Yuuri Katsuki and he finds that he’s no longer sure what he wants anymore.

Or:

a fraternity fic where Yuuri and Viktor are in rival frats, but they fall in love anyway.

Comment: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

that is all

Addition: now a complete fic, it was very very cute, with appropriate amounts of drama and a dynamic that worked out wonderfully. My emotions ranged from ??? to ?!?!?! to !!! and there are really no words to describe this accurate. But it was fun, and has a lot of value as something to reread because of the sheer amount of amusement you get from this. The author also does really well with portraying sexual tension between Victor and Yuuri (lol) and tied together with the fraternity setting, it’s delicious.

6. next to you, i still dream by shamusiel || Rated E, 51.2k (WIP)

They had said that, like humans, the eyes of a dragon could be a window into the soul. Every emotion laid bare to the world. It was just rare that any man lived long enough to properly look.

After dragons were slaughtered and driven out by humanity, the ones that remain were scarcely seen again.

Yuuri is a dragon, Viktor is a human prince.

Comment: I’ve been following this since chapter one, and I really like it! their relationship in the beginning is really nice/pretty organic, and I look forward to how the story continues on. Worldbuilding is also quite nice.

Addition: The dynamic between Victor and Yuuri is something wonderful. I want them to live long and happily together, despite their differences. This story has a wonderful fairytale-esque mood to it. The execution to this classic conceit is a delight, and every update has me smiling and excited for more.

7. Beautiful by ipona || Rated E, 11.5k

Yuuri Katsuki lives in the same apartment building as The Most Beautiful Man in the World, but somehow he only manages to run into him when he’s a complete mess.

AU where they’re not ice skaters, basically just a story of Yuuri and Viktor falling in love.

Comment: afjdsa;alkjfsadljfdksal; CUTE. SO CUTE. SUPER CUTE. A DELIGHT TO READ.

o(≧∇≦o) SUCH A GOOD CUTE READ AAA

CUTE

Addition: honestly, there’s not much to say about this other than it’s just so goddamn cute. There are like, three versions of this AU for yoi already, and I love all of them, and they’re all cute, but each of them are unique to the author and I think that ipona has just. Ipona’s take on it is tremendously cute.

8. Nocturne by Nostalgia-in-Starlight (UniverseEndingParadox) || Rated M, 11.2k

It’s a charmed life, rife with luxury and glamour and a doting husband who gives him the world on a silver platter. But it’s also a peculiarly lonely life, being married to the underboss of one of the biggest ‘yakuza’ in operation. Victor wouldn’t trade it - or his husband - for any other world.

Or.

A day in the life of Mafia Wife!Victor.

Comment: Oh heck yes. This is just *clenches fist* this has so many little things that I enjoy the heck out of. It’s short but I really really look forward to the next chapter. The obvious affection they have for each other is like, everything I love in Mafia AUs.

Addition: it is now a completed fic! The relationship between Yuuri and Victor is just delicious. You can tell how much they love each other, despite their unusual circumstances. I would love to read more of this verse, but the moment that the author has chosen to write about their relationship has gotten my heart wishing for their happiness.

9. tu oublieras mon nom by aquamarine_nebula || Rated M, 3.4k (WIP)

tu oublieras mon nom - you will forget my name

Viktor gave him a megawatt smile. “You look lovely today, Yuuri,” he said, his voice lowering, head cocking a bit to one side. “What brings you here?”

He could have taken his every movement from a point-to-point guide on flirting, let alone the actual words, and Yuuri knew this because of the intense training he’d had to carry out on understanding body language. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been trained on how to deal with Viktor Nikiforov flirting with him.

“I hired him,” Mr Giacometti said.

Viktor blinked.

“As my bodyguard,” Mr Giacometti continued.

Yuuri gets a job done, fulfils a long-time dream, and probably begins falling in love in the process.

Comment: Oh. My. God. This is the unexpected gold I found today, super duper recommend. It’s off of a really curious beginning and I’m just??? I’m bouncing with excitement at how it can possibly continue. If you read one of the fics on this list tonight, make it this one.

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

Addition: goddd it’s such a great beginning. I want more of this as a series.

10. Bottle Me Your Smile by Ncj700 | Unrated, 17k (WIP)

In a tiny village on the edge of the kingdom, Yuuri Katsuki – common as mud Apothecary owner – embarks on a goal to achieve a childhood goal. With the help of the world’s greatest magical, he will achieve it. Apothecary AU for @banacotta.

Comment: *YELLS FROM THE TOP OF A SKYSCRAPER* I love fantasy and worldbuilding and this fic starts off with great worldbuilding. The first chapter begins with Yuuri’s beginnings, and introduces us to the setting, and the narration does wonderfully in giving information in a way that it’s never infodump. We’re also given glimpses at other characters too, and Yuuri’s personality is distinctly shaped during the childhood that the first chapter tells. Plus there’s already foreshadowing of future events/goals/dreams of Yuuri, and basically if you like fantasy/magic aus with solid worldbuilding, read iiiiiit.

Addition: honestly, I think this is still one of the best fantasy fics with worldbuilding I’ve read. Even though it’s only one chapter so far, it’s an amazing first chapter, and I have really high expectations of it.

#yuri on ice #fic rec #yoi #fanfiction #may 2017 #monthly summary

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brofisting · 6 years

Text

As you might know, I’ve recently gotten into hockey! It’s objectively bad, but so is basically everything, and fanfiction is objectively good, so I think in the end it works out okay. You might enjoy it if you like:

tricking yourself into loving sweat-soaked weird-looking sports jerks

serious codependency

“no homo bro but i’m desperately in love with you”

the concept of grown men sending other grown men to The Sin Bin

sex tears (hockey fandom is really into sex tears)

Instead of organizing these by team or pairing, since there are a lot of those and I’m not out here to rep for anyone in particular (b/c apparently the point of sports is to make those decisions yourself and then suffer for them for the rest of your life), I’ve decided to rec you the fics I personally have enjoyed the most, which should be a fairly, uh, interesting cross-section of what’s on offer, but should not be taken as a comprehensive one. Now, without further ado, allow me to present...

(A HOCKEY RPF FANFIC REC LIST)

In approximate order from shortest to longest.

GENERAL WARNING: These are all RPF, and feature fictionalized depictions of real people. If that makes you uncomfortable, don’t read them. Many of these stories also include depictions of homophobia. Some include graphic descriptions of injuries. Please check each fic’s tags/intro for any more specific warnings, or with me if you have a concern about a specific story.

Without Access, Favor, or Discretion, 7iris P. K. Subban/Carey Price, PG-13, ~2k ‘Is this Habs goaltender Carey Price’s dick?’ the Deadspin headline screams, and PK snorts coffee out his nose.

the real hockey widows of new jersey, meretricula Claude Giroux/Danny Briere, PG-13, ~3k “Since when does Sylvie like you?” Danny demanded. / “Why wouldn’t Sylvie like me? I’m not divorced from her.” Claude paused, then added thoughtfully, "Also, I cook, and I’m never late picking the boys up from school.”

drop everything now, blamefincham & thistidalwave Alex Galchenyuk/Brendan Gallagher, PG-13, ~5k “It’s a stupid bucket list thing! It was really easy to get these tickets!” Alex says loudly, sitting up and glaring at her. / “Yeah,” Anna says in between bouts of laughter, “but you bought them. Does Brendan know you want to take him on a romantic date to fulfill one of his lifelong dreams?”

Closed Fracture, lightgetsin Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin, PG-13, ~6k “You’re on Puck Daddy,” Taylor said, instead of a greeting. “The headline is ‘Best Hockey Player in the World Sidney Crosby Taken Out by Eight Year Old, Breaks Arm in Mite Hockey Game.’”

Something Old, Something New, Rave Michael Latta/Tom Wilson, NC-17, ~6k “I’m into guys,” Mike had told him before they moved in together. “If we’re gonna be roommates, that’s gotta be cool with you. I don’t want it to turn out to be a thing later.”

Long in the Tooth, Ferritin4 Roberto Luongo/Carey Price, NC-17, ~6k “I’m not telling you not to train,” Bobby said. “I’m just telling you not to be completely insane about everything for the rest of your life.”

(MORE RECS UNDER THE CUT, THIS GOT... A LITTLE OUT OF HAND, LENGTH-WISE.)

yes is a pleasant country, arabesque05 Sidney Crosby/Pittsburgh Penguins Team, Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin, NC-17, ~6k “Sid,” Geno says. “Team lonely.”

As Tall As Cliffs, oflights Tyson Barrie/Gabriel Landeskog, NC-17, ~9k Tyson and Gabe both made 2015 resolutions to give each other more compliments. It turns into a whole thing, and ends about how you'd expect.

Wildest Dreams, oflights Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin, NC-17, ~10k Of all the new things going on this season, Sidney Crosby wearing panties before and after a game is not something Geno could’ve anticipated. And being interested in Sidney Crosby wearing panties before and after a game is not something he could’ve prepared himself for.

jump on a moving train, oops_ohdear Alexander Ovechkin/Nicklas Backstrom, NC-17, ~10k “Best baby need best jersey,” Alex says blithely, which doesn’t actually answer the question. It does, however, tell Nicklas whose jersey it is, and sure enough when Alex lifts it up to put it back in the bag Nicklas can see the 8 and the ‘OVECHKIN’ emblazoned on the back.

off-ice situation (& sequel), (orphaned account) Tyler Seguin/Jamie Benn, NC-17, ~11k “What’s your off-ice situation like, guys?” / Time stops completely. Tyler wants to say, ‘pretty fucking gay, to be honest with you.’

run, we’ll get there, joyfulseeker Mike Richards/Jeff Carter, NC-17, ~12k “There’s some stuff I’d like to see between here and there. So if you’re driving,” Jeff says.

King Me, Ferritin4 Alexander Ovechkin/Nicklas Backstrom, NC-17, ~12k Hockey is hockey, and politics is politics. There are kings of the game, and there are kings in their crowns and robes, and there isn't usually much in the way of overlap. (Secret royalty AU.)

like a sledgehammer, wafflehood Michael Latta/Tom Wilson, NC-17, ~13k It was probably inevitable that the thing where they stand up for each other so indiscriminately would eventually become a problem for them.

Something Old, uraneia Claude Giroux/Danny Briere, NC-17, ~13k Caelan lets out a choked laugh. “I need you to be Dad’s date to my wedding.” Claude and Danny broke up ten years ago, so that’s going to be awkward.

Romantic Motherfucking Best, lightgetsin Tyler Seguin/Jamie Benn, NC-17, ~14k Jamie’s supposed to boyfriend this shit right up, and Tyler wants to see that.

Dream the Right Dream, Ferritin4 Alexander Ovechkin/Nicklas Backstrom, NC-17, ~14k It takes him two months, one more heat, and the NHL omega entry course before he realizes that he was meant to let one of them take him through it.They don’t do it like that in Sweden.

Friday Night Arrives Without a Suitcase, marycontraire Claude Giroux/Danny Briere, R, ~15k Danny and Claude move to Berlin. Nothing really changes, until everything does.

(break something old) to build something new, Lake Claude Giroux/Danny Briere, R, ~16k In which Danny retires after being bought out by the Flyers in the summer of 2013 and stays in New Jersey, only to end up babysitting Claude's kid all the time.

The Kindness of Strangers, angularmomentum Alexander Ovechkin/Nicklas Backstrom, NC-17, ~17k Nicke has created a life of careful boundaries. (AU)

the year I got you alone, Lake Mike Richards/Jeff Carter, NC-17, ~19k “Let’s admit, without apology, what we do to each other.” - Richard Siken

Worse Than A Boy Who Hates You, omelet Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin, NC-17, ~21k The first time Sidney Crosby meets Evgeni Malkin, the crowd is on their feet and roaring and he’s flat on his ass on the ice, staring up at Malkin’s face haloed by the glaring stadium lights. (Rival teams AU.)

Just What Was Rumpelstiltskin Expecting to Do with a Baby, Anyway?, withershins Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin, PG-13, ~25k Turning to a witch to save a loved one’s life is one of the riskier gambles a person can take, but it’s one that’s arguably noble and brave. Falling in love with the witch, though—now that’s just foolish. (AU)

the washington royals, screamlet Alexander Ovechkin/Nicklas Backstrom, NC-17, ~45k An arranged marriage—or, an arrangement and a marriage. (Royalty AU.)

Fastening One Heart to Every Falling Thing, thefourthvine Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin, NC-17, ~52k Geno can’t. Sidney won’t. (Soul-bond AU.)

The Woman In Blue, Ferritin4 Alexander Ovechkin/Nicklas Backstrom, NC-17, ~54k Nicklas had been going to visit demons ever since he had taken his vows at nineteen. He could talk to God as well as the next man, and if he brought up the right topics, God had a way of listening. Sasha had been going to visit demons ever since Nicklas had found him with claws and in chains so long ago, and if God did not listen to him, it was not for lack of encouragement to the Lord on Nicklas’s part. (Fairytale AU.)

King and Lionheart, thehoyden Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin, NC-17, ~56k Sidney’s wedding day doesn’t go quite as he’d planned. He hadn’t imagined this hurried affair on the tarmac on a rainy and unseasonably cool day in early September, a month after his twenty-fifth birthday. (Arranged marriage AU.)

All The Way Through, sevenfists Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin, NC-17, ~83k “I hope you’re going to tell me that you’re in a loving, committed, long-term relationship,” Jen said. / “Well. No,” Sidney said. “We’re—it’s a casual thing.” / “Not anymore,” Jen said. “Congratulations, you’re in love.”

...BACK TO YOU. (rapidly flipping lights on and off again)

#hockey rpf #rec list #fic recs

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fortune-failing · 7 years

Text

15 reasons going to a tavern with your elf friend could be a bad idea

(After Session 38 // nothing important happens until halfway in so you can skip to the horizontal line that indicates a scene change if you want)

London

After exiting the base, London watched everyone head their separate ways, then turned towards Faelian. “Got any plans?”

Faelian

Faelian smiled softly. “Besides burning this poster that looks nothing like me, no. You?”

London

“Let me see that,” He makes a grab for it

Faelian

He lets London have it.

London

London holds it up to admire the view with a small chuckle. “I’m going to keep it.”

Faelian

“H-Huh!? But it’s so bad..” He flushes some at the thought of London keeping it. “…Then i’ll keep yours too since I also grabbed it.”

London

He quickly lowers it. “You did what?”

Faelian

“I took yours from her too.”

London

London’s face grows flustered, “What made you do that?”

Faelian

Faelian smiles nervously and looked away a little. “I dunno.. seemed wrong to take one and not the other.”

London

“What were you even going to do with it?”

Faelian

“I was going to get rid of them.” He rubs at the back of his neck a little. “Not sure if I really would have or not though.”

London

London laughed, “Getting rid of them won’t do you any good, you know. They have tons more copies in the city waiting to be delivered.”

Faelian

He sighs in a defeated sort of way before smiling again. “Yeah…pfft… I want to complain about the drawings being so bad but honestly it helps us in the long run I guess.” He ties his bag back up with London’s poster inside it. “I like your idea more anyway.”

London

“Not really. If that ninja lady could recognize us based on these, then anyone can. I’ll just keep your’s for the memory. I’m surprised you’d want to keep mine.”

Faelian

“…Well.. Aneris and Beaford were pretty close…” It was a little annoying that such bad drawings could and have given them away before. “Hm.. well there’s no way i’m going to get rid of yours if i’m not getting rid of mine. Besides the idea of carrying around each other’s picture is cute, despite how goofy they look.”

London

“You won’t think that in a few weeks when I’m still laughing over it.” He smirked.

Faelian

He grew embarrassed and crossed his arms loosely. “That’s probably true.. Anyway.. what should we do before heading to the inn? Want to go eat somewhere or something?”

London

“Food doesn’t sound bad. It’s up to you. I don’t really have plans, so I’ll be hanging out with you tonight.” Reluctantly. If only he flirted with that elf first.

Faelian

“What kind of place do you want to eat at then? I’ll pay for it.”

London

“You really don’t have to.. But, uh, let’s go to that tavern. They ought to have good stuff. And maybe we can make some money to pay for it, too.” He said with a wink while taking the lead.

Faelian

Faelian flushed at the wink and followed behind him. “I have 19k that’s more than enough for me to treat you and myself to something nice to eat. Although i’m not going to turn down the offer to make more I guess.”

London

“It has been a while, right? I know you’ve been looking forward to it.”

Faelian

“Yeah.. it has been a while…” He nods to himself. “I have been looking forward to it too.”

London

Once inside, London immediately started talking to the barkeeper about making the deal. A meal for two for a show. Little did he know the quality of the meat was related to how well they did.

London

/r 1d20+2

POS diebotBOT

@London:

1d20+2

= (6)+2 = 8

Faelian

/r 1d20+2

POS diebotBOT

@Faelian:

1d20+2

= (15)+2 = 17

London

The crowd cheered the blond on while thinking London was just some guy trying to get attention. The barkeeper supplies Faelian food and ignores London’s existence.

London

London sweats. “Guess I should have quit while I was ahead. Mind sharing?” He sits near the elf unfazed by the neglect.

Faelian

Faelian smiles softly. “Everyone has off days.. don’t worry about it. Of course I don’t mind.” He laughs a little now. “I brought you here to buy you a meal in the first place though so tell me what you want and i’ll pay for it.”

London

He smiles in return, “I don’t mind, don’t worry. But if you’re sure this isn’t enough for two people, I guess I can get something else.” He starts pondering the choices.

Faelian

“I don’t mind either way. It’s probably enough but I did come here with the thought to buy you something in the first place.” Faelian moves his chair closer to the other now. Pretty darn close as he can and does press his shoulder against London’s with a smile.

London

London tensed at the contact and stood up. It didn’t take him half a second to realize how embarrassing eating like this was going to be. “I’m going to go place my order!” He hurried away hoping no one saw his red face.

Faelian

Faelian looked surprised for a moment and then smiled. It was obvious that he had embarrassed him. How could London even think of calling himself kinky when a simple shoulder touch worked him up so much? “Alright, remember i’m buying it, okay?”

London

“Alright..” Faelian could hear him mumble it before speaking to the barkeeper.

Faelian

Faelian was just looking around the tavern while waiting for him to return. He didn’t really want to eat until London had something too.

London

London came back and it wasn’t long before he had food, too. “Is your food still warm?” He wanted to laugh, but he appreciated the thought.

Faelian

“Yeah. It’s fine.” He took a bite of his food now. It was still warm and tasted fine and that was good enough. “Hm.. you don’t really like many deserts, right?” He was tempted to bring up the fact that London ran off due to the shoulder touch but decided against it.

London

London was now seated across the table, in front of Faelian. “I don’t mind desserts sometimes. I just don’t like eating them too often. Too sweet. Why? Were you planning to get me something?”

Faelian

Faelian finished off a bite of his food before speaking again. “Yeah, I was. If you liked anything on the list anyway.” He smiled a little now, unable to resist asking. “I guess sitting so close was too embarrassing?”

London

He was about to reply but then scowled and resumed being flustered just after he had recovered. Damn elves. “Sitting side by side at a table would look silly. That’s all. If you want to sit next to me, we can move to the bar.” In spite he added, "But you know, what I’m really craving is marron glacé.” It was something clearly not on the menu.

Faelian

Faelian chuckled softly. “I guess it would look a little silly huh? I’d rather not move our entire meal and drinks.” He didn’t want to risk dropping them. “Maybe next time we can sit at the bar so we can sit more closely.” London wouldn’t have a good excuse not to sit side by side next time. “Marron glacé, hm? They don’t have that here but maybe I could find it in a bakery for you. Not sure if any would be open tonight though.”

London

“Yeah, that’s fine. Don’t worry too much about the dessert, though. I was just kidding. This is a tavern, they won’t have sweets here.”

Faelian

“Well.. they could have had pie maybe.” He had been to a few that served some simple stuff like that but he guessed it was pretty rare. “Do you even really like marron glacé anyway?” He looked at him with an eyebrow raised since it had been a joke.

London

“Uhm. Possibly? It doesn’t sound bad, right?” London smiled and looked away awkwardly. It should have been obvious at this point he had never even tried it.

Faelian

Faelian smiled a little more. It looked like London didn’t even know what that was… “Yeah, it sounds nice. We’ll have to try some together soon.” Dammit what were people even suppose to do on a date? Dates weren’t much different from normally hanging out with London, right? Except for the fact that the two people on a date were usually closer. He couldn’t exactly get closer to London though since even a shoulder touch had ran him off. He smiled to himself a little more and pressed his foot against London’s underneath the table and gave London a wink. He liked seeing him embarrassed anyway.

London

London just nodded and took a sip from his glass. Considering all of the times he had stolen Faelian’s food in the past, sharing a dessert now should really not be a big deal. But put into context, it was suddenly growing on him how embarrassing this was. With the feel of his foot, he coughed and choked on what was left of his drink before glancing at Faelian only to look away again in what he would like to call a ‘red fury.’ He did a light kick at the elf and buried half his face into his palm with a huff.

Faelian

Faelian laughed a little at the reaction he got. He crossed his leg over the other afterwards and rubbed at the spot London kicked. It didn’t really hurt though and he was still smiling at the other. “Oops, sorry I didn’t mean to do that while you were taking a drink.”

London

“N-no, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.” He uncovered his face in slight guilt. “Is your leg okay?” With a lean to the side, London was almost tempted to peak under the table to see for himself, but he knew there was nothing to uncover by looking. He could only hope that didn’t leave a bruise on his frail elf skin.

Faelian

“It didn’t really hurt, it’s fine. It must still be pretty shocking to know I like you, huh?”

London

London coughed again, only this time in an effort to cover up the words. As the fit quieted, he responded in mumble. “Yeah, I guess so..” By this point you can just assume he’s going to be blushing all night.

Faelian

Faelian just continued to smile quietly until London was finished coughing. It was fun embarrassing him. Especially since London was usually embarrassing him instead. “I thought so. Did you want to go somewhere else when we leave here or just head back to the inn?”

London

“Hm, I didn’t really have anything in mind, so it’s up to you.” He was basically done with his plate now.

Faelian

“I’d like to go back to the inn then.” It didn’t take long for him to finish off his own plate and drink. Once he had he headed over to the counter to pay for London’s.

London

London followed him with a stretch then they headed out the door.

Faelian

Faelian lead him back to the inn at a lazy pace. He wondered if it was time to talk about that thing or if it was still too soon. He glanced over at the other while they walked.

London

London seemed lost in his own thoughts while walking, so he was relatively quiet.

Faelian

Eventually they reach the inn and he held the door open for the quieter than usual London.

London

“Oh, thanks.” He passes by then takes a seat at the table. After a bit more thought, he stops and turns his head in question. “Wait, what do we do now?” It was barely 10 - too early to rest for a night owl.

Faelian

“You’re welcome.” He put his lute, bow, and quiver on the floor beside the bed before joining London at the table. “Hm.. well there was actually a thing I wanted to bring up but if you’re tired we can talk about it another day instead.”

London

“Well, I’m not tired. We can talk about it now if you want.”

Faelian

Faelian looks slightly nervous and then serious. “Alright.. It’s about something I found in the last temple… but honestly i’d been looking for it for a while. I’d looked into it some months before we met the other guys actually. I was thinking of offering it to you as a gift but i’m not sure you’d accept it.”

London

London tilts his head with a confused expression but leans in closer, now curious. “So what is it? If it’s taken you months to find, I’m sure it’s gotta be something good.” He couldn’t imagine anything he’d reject after all of that trouble, but it still made him wonder. His heartbeat quickened at the thought.

Faelian

“I didn’t actually think i’d ever even find one honestly…” He produces a small vial out of his bag and holds it out so that London can see it. It’s a small silver and glass vial with glowing pale pink colored liquid inside. “It’s a lost flower potion. It’s a potion of eternal youth.” “Before we met the others you kept bringing up the fact that you would age and die so I started looking stuff like this. Honestly the idea of you growing old and dying was frightening to me but.. you and Pawo and Beaford all don’t seem to even mind old age so why should I worry about it? I feel like I’ve grown some since I first started looking into this. If you end up dying by old age that’ll be ages from now anyway and I’ll have grown even more by then. Basically what i’m saying is that i’m offering this to you as a gift but it’s fine if you don’t accept it. I know that it’s a big deal so you don’t even have to decide anytime soon either. You could even wait years before deciding if you want it or not.”

London

When Faelian first produced the vial, London’s first thought was 'flashy’ and his eyes narrowed expecting it to be some gay perfume, but as Faelian spoke he trembled upon the knowledge. This was actually a really really big deal. He gulped. “You’re saying you aren’t as worried about me dying anymore?”

Faelian

Faelian looked shocked at hearing that and frowns. “Huh? That’s not what I meant at all. Of course i’m worried about you dying and I don’t want you to die. I just meant that if you do decide to grow old i’ll accept that.. I’m sorry if my words came out wrong that’s not what I meant at all…”

“I’m just really bad with words I guess.. especially when it comes to something as important as this. I just don’t want you to think that you have to take this potion. It’s just an option.”

London

“Ah.” Whoops. “Sorry, that’s not what I meant, either.. It’s just a lot to consider.” His hands were clenched tightly and he remained quiet for another minute before letting out a sigh. “Let me take your offer to think on it a bit. I’ll have an answer for you some time - just not too soon… This really was unexpected, haha… Do you mind if I hold on to it?”

Faelian

Faelian tilted his head and put his hand on his chin, a slight frown on his face. “What did you mean then? Of course I still don’t want you to die..” He nodded and handed the potion to London. “Just don’t sell it if you don’t use it okay? It’s priceless.” “You can wait even ten years or so till deciding to take it. It’s a really big deal after all. From what I read it’s more like it locks your current looks so if someone old took it it wouldn’t make them young again and you can still get sick like normally too.”

London

“I’m not sure.” London took the potion and stared at the pink liquid he still found suspicious looking and swirled its contents. “Will you still love me when I’m fifty years old?”

Faelian

Faelian smiled and nodded. “Yes.”

London

“Sixty?”

Faelian

“Yes.”

London

“You know humans get old and wrinkly by that age. And stinky.” He tested.

Faelian

He laughed a little bit since London was already stinky sometimes. “I’ll still love you. I’m not so vain that I’d let something like that stop me from caring about someone important to me.”

London

London tapped the bottle against his chin thinking of the next step to the questionaire and then smirked. “Even if I postpone drinking it until I’m seventy? Then you’ll be stuck with seventy-year-old me for life.”

Faelian

Faelian looked shocked for a moment. “Oh my god, London. I would, but I think you’d be the one regretting that. Don’t human bones and stuff get weak with age?”

London

“You can’t mean that. You’d be stuck taking care of me every day.” Although at that age he probably wouldn’t live too long, huh? Maybe he should have said fifty or sixty instead. “Hm, what if I was a healthy fifty-five? Then I could possibly be fit and the only downsides are wrinkles, gray hair, and possible baldness.”

Faelian

“I’ll love you no matter what. I swear it. I would prefer if you took it while you were still youngish though but fifty-five is a lot better than seventy at least.” He hoped London was joking but he would still love him if he wasn’t.

London

London leaned back in his chair, his head sinking a bit in his scarf. “You’re embarrassing.”

Faelian

Faelian smiled at the reaction he got. “If you do drink it, it will make me happy. I just don’t want you thinking that it’s something you have to do. I know that I can be annoying and clingy and that maybe somewhere along the way you might want to spend some years by yourself or something but.. just knowing you might be somewhere else alive and we’d have the possibility of meeting again I would be happy.

London

London buried his head lower before changing the direction of the conversation in an effort to save himself. "So what do you know about this thing anyway? You said you found out about it months ago?”

Faelian

“I knew what it looked like and the name of it. I knew that it was more like an age lock than an age reverse potion and that you can still get sick or be killed if you take it” He thought for a moment. “There wasn’t any bad side affects about it in the book but if you’d rather be safe we could try to find someone who knows a little more about it.”

London

“So it’s not related to all of that Ley Crystal stuff, right? I know the guardian had mentioned some dark stuff was involved with it, so I wanted to be sure.”

Faelian

“Hm.. I don’t think they could use the crystal to make this. If they could it wouldn’t be so rare as humans might have made a lot more in the past and used them. It’s probably made out of some rare plant if anything. We can check though just in case.”

London

“Well, you said you already read about it before. There probably isn’t anymore information. I wonder why it was in a temple dungeon, though.. Just a prize for quest takers? It seems weird no one would have taken it sooner.” These were useless questions. He just needed time to calm down.

Faelian

He nodded. “Yeah.. hm.. do you think many people head in there? Maybe no one’s tried before because it’s dangerous? or maybe they don’t think anything special is in it? They could have got stuck on the trials too.” There was a trial to not take anything and one to not forget anything so it wasn’t too hard to believe people might have failed and died in there. Faelian didn’t really know that London was just asking random stuff to calm himself down but he fell for the bait anyway.

London

“Who knows… I’m sure the guardians are there for some reason.” After a pause (and successfully recovering all of his composure), London spoke up in a more serious tone. “Hey Faelian, if I do return the potion to you.. and don’t take it…Hm.” He stood up and waved to him. “I’ll think on it while I take a shower. See you soon.”

Faelian

“Yeah. Hm? Aw come on.. don’t start saying something and then don’t finish it.” He waved his hand some. “I just don’t want you selling something so precious or giving it to some stranger, you know? If you want to keep it I won’t mind. Alright, have a good one.” He still had a few things to say but maybe he could bring them up later.

London

London smiled a bit before turning around, all the while contemplating if using the time to think would really benefit him. "We’ll talk about it in bed.“ He said, then immediately regretted it. Why was life after hearing Faelian loved him so difficult? He hurried away.

Faelian

Faelian smiled brightly at hearing that. "Alright.” He watched as the other hurried away to shower with an amused expression. It was pretty amusing that london was so embarrassed after his confession. It was still shocking that London had never even realized his feelings. Then again maybe it was shocking that he hadn’t realized London’s drunk confessions were the truth as well.

London

Things were peaceful for the most part, but Faelian was sure he heard London yell “Fuck!” along with a crashing noise at some point. Not long after an “I’m okay!” followed.

In time, London returned. Clean for the first time in days. “Your turn!” He smiled without a care in the world.

Faelian

Faelian jolted at the yell and crash and was in the middle of saying 'are you okay’ when he was answered. When London got out he tilted his head at him. “Feel better? Did you fall?” He peeked into the bathroom before heading inside.

London

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He laughed and didn’t respond to the second part.

Faelian

“Alright i’ll be out in a few.” He said as he closed the bathroom door. He rinsed the tub out before running himself a bath. He would stay in there longer than London did. Once he was finished he headed back into the bedroom and placed his day clothes on top of his bag by the bed.

London

While Faelian was in there, London wasted time skimming a book he had already read a million times before. When he returned, he sat up and patted the spot next to him to hurry up the prepared and organized nerd.

Faelian

Faelian wondered why he was being hurried up but he hurried up anyway and got into the bed beside the other. “Hm?”

London

Faelian could tell London actually went out of his way to get even his clothes cleaned. Although he wasn’t in nightwear, he at least removed his shoes, belt, and random accessories minus the scarf. This is only being stated to reassure everyone that he isn’t wearing his shoes in bed.

Faelian

Faelian was pretty impressed that London had cleaned his clothes up. He was relieved that London hadn’t wore his shoes to bed too. He had been close to complaining about it as they bumped his legs while he tried to sleep. “What did you want to tell me?”

London

“I guess I was wondering what you’d be doing in the future. Whether I stuck around or not. Maybe say, 100 years from now - a century.”

Faelian

“You mean if you did take the potion?”

London

“Well, actually, if I didn’t.” He added morbidly.

“But I wouldn’t mind hearing the version if I did, too.” In fact, he wanted to hear both.

Faelian

“Hm..” He thinks for a few moments. “If you didn’t drink the potion and died of old age i’d settle down somewhere and mourn you for some years. If you didn’t drink it and just left at some point i’d probably settle down for a while somewhere quiet for a few years too I guess. It would be kind of weird to travel without you if we had already spent a long time together.” “If you did drink the potion then the idea situation would be to still be by your side. If you drank it and then we separated for a while then I’d want to write to you and eventually meet up again if it was alright with you.”

London

“But what would you do after settling down? You’re only talking about a few years, I said a hundred.”

Faelian

“Hm.. after spending some years settled down maybe I’d go back to traveling for a while? I’d keep the house to come back to when I didn’t feel like traveling though. Actually i’ll probably buy a house way before then just so we can have somewhere to keep things in or something.. It’s hard to know exactly what will happen in the future since it depends on other things though.”

London

“Yeah, I guess.” London looked a little down at the thought. “You know, I don’t want to keep you from falling in love with anyone else, but thinking that far ahead is kind of sad. Before this quest, I thought at some point it would be better for you if we went our separate ways, and I figured you’d just forget about me one day, but now I’m not sure what I want.”

“Feeling special to someone is embarrassing, but I’m also happy. I’m probably just scared it’s too good to be true, or something bad will happen to ruin it, or you’ll get hurt, or something. I don’t want to have to deal with any of that.. So how do elves usually handle long-term romances anyway? It sounded like open relationships were out of the question. Do elves just stay committed all of their long lives? You live up to a thousand years don’t you?”

Faelian

“Yeah.. thinking that far ahead doesn’t do much anyway because I honestly have no idea what i’ll be like then or how i’ll feel. Whether you take the potion or not there’s no way i’ll ever forget about you. You’re my first real human friend after all. Even if you had managed to push me away I wouldn’t have forgotten about you.” He smiled at hearing that. It made him happy to know that London felt happy too. “You worry too much. Everything will be fine and even if something does happen i’m sure we can work through whatever it is.” He hummed softly before answering. “Well… some elves go for open relationships and some stay committed for life. Honestly if you do drink the potion I still want you to myself only for a while… some years at least.. and then we can be in open relationships if you really really want. Some elves can live longer or die sooner but yeah somewhere around there.”

London

“So you’ll really remember me? I think that’s all I could really ask for.. Even if it sounds a bit selfish. No one can really control their memories, though, so if you do forget me, I won’t mind. But I guess, saying that, feelings also aren’t controllable, huh? The only reason I can imagine wanting to live for so long is just to spend the rest of my life with you without having to worry about you dealing with me growing old. But if your feelings changed later, I’m not sure how I’d feel or what I’d do on my own. I’m not really ambitious, so I don’t see much of a point to it outside of traveling with you..”

Faelian

Faelian gives him a nod. “Yeah. I won’t forget about you. Elves can be forgetful but it’s usually with things that aren’t important to them, unlike humans who forget stuff with age. I don’t think wanting to be remembered sounds selfish at all.” He hadn’t really considered that London would only be drinking it for him. “..I guess that would be the only reason to drink it, huh? If you do though I can assure you that there’s no way i’d just up and leave you alone someday. That would be cruel. My feelings won’t change that easily anyway. Don’t worry too much about it though, like I said earlier you can wait five or ten or so years before deciding anyway.”

London

It seemed most of London’s questions were answered because for a bit he just nodded and remained silent, then as if for a final thought, he added, “If I do take it, what do you want to do for the rest of our lives? Just travel around? Besides not wanting to see me die are there any other reasons you’d want me to live for so long?”

Faelian

“We could do anything. We could alternate between traveling or settling down. See how the world changes as time goes by. Besides not wanting you to die the idea of having you by my side for such a long time is nice. I guess that seems kind of weird to you though, huh? Elves usually stay friends for hundreds of years so those kind of thoughts are natural for me.”

London

“Huh, I guess we can see how it goes. If I do drink it anyway. Um. Was there anything else you wanted to talk about? I’m kind of out of questions for now. I’ll think about it more in the morning.”

Faelian

He thought for a moment. “Hm… yeah that’s all. I just hope I didn’t overwhelm you. It’s your choice to make. I don’t want you to feel pressured, okay?”

London

“It is a lot to consider.. I’ll let you know what I decide later.” He now turns away from him to turn off the light. “Guess I’ll get some sleep now. Hopefully we won’t be woken up too early to leave. Goodnight.”

Faelian

“Yeah, it is.” He got comfortable under the covers. “Goodnight, London.”

London

Despite the heavy conversation, London managed a peaceful sleep.

#c: faelian

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