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peaches-writes · 4 years

Text

seven hundred and one

description: seven centuries and you always seem to bump into hyunjin at least once in every one of them member: hyunjin genre: fluff, childhood friends to lovers au, slow burn (technically it is), historical au, vampire au (vampire!skz, implied incubus!hyunjin idk yall decide), witch au (immortal!reader), a sprinkle of established relationship towards the end, implied fem reader word count: 10.3k warning: explicit language, mentions of blood, murder, death, trauma, arson, suggestive (i turn 19 & suddenly i get brave lmao) note: hyunjin playing a thousand years on his post-mucore vlive that happened to fall on my birthday did things to my feelings + took a lot of liberties w the history & nature or vampires if that’s okay + if the narration is confusing just tell me lmao + established relationship au’s in detail makes my head spin ew cheesy stuff

zero

You have always been a traveler even in 1319 when you were still twelve and mortal. Being born and raised into a coven of witches at a time when witchcraft and other non-conforming practices were punishable by death, you naturally had to be for your own safety. Growing up, you had to move from village to village with your family, helping villagers in secret as your main source of income then leaving before word would inevitably and uncontrollably spread; thus leaving you with little to no room to grow intimate attachments with people who are not kin.

Not that you minded the last, anyway, because your mother would always remind you that you can always go back after some time. Korea was vast, then, but there were only a few places you could go to in a cycle. Then, you met Hyunjin.

Hwang Hyunjin has always been a prince, but especially in 1319 when he was still twelve and human. Besides his undeniably regal looks and naturally graceful disposition, he was also a noble in King Taejeong’s court. Of course, you’ve already forgotten his exact title at the time after centuries of living but you do have an inkling of a memory wherein he mentioned something about being related to the king somehow—this said memory being the first time you met him.

You don’t remember all the specific details now but you’re quite certain that you moved to the capital Hanseong in the first place because your mother’s services was requested by the king himself to treat one of his daughters, the only time the monarchy acknowledged you. You can also faintly remember being allowed to wander on your own at the marketplace right outside of the palace courts on the day you arrived only because you competed with your cousins over who can unpack their belongings the fastest and won.

Even now, over seven hundred years later, you’re still thankful that Chaeyeon and Chaeryeong somehow forgot some of their bags in your carriage that day or else you would’ve missed bumping into Hyunjin completely.

He was receiving his chosen bouquet of carnations from a flower stall at the market entrance when you approached, the bright colors of the display chrysanthemums initially catching your eye. As you asked the stand owner about the blue flowers, you noticed that Hyunjin didn’t seem to have any intentions of paying, prompting you to stop him from walking away to ask, “Aren’t you going to pay for that?”

Hyunjin momentarily froze in his steps before turning around to you with raised eyebrows, his head slowly turning from you to the pink flowers in his hands. After this brief pause, you then heard him laugh in amusement for the first time, confusing you further in the moment. “I, uh, I don’t have to. It’s—it’s free for me.”

Ever the curious child, you then asked next, “For you? Why?”

Hyunjin would confess to you later on, some time when you briefly met at an art exhibit in 1880s Spain, that he only entertained you because no one has ever asked him such question in a long time when you did. Because of his status, people both inside and outside the court would leave him alone to do whatever he wants and so he thought it was refreshing that you did otherwise when you first met. He also mentioned something about finding you cute in the fashion of your time but you always dismiss this in embarrassment. You were only seven, for crying out loud.

And so, taking a step closer to you, he then lifted the bouquet up to the level of your faces after he leaned down to your height and, with a mischievous smile, loudly whispered to you, “I’m from the palace courts—an important person to the king!”

Hyunjin still insists at present that he did tell you exactly what his title and relation to the king was but every time you challenge him to tell you what he said, he would clumsily steer the conversation away to something else. Besides this, you have always agreed that you furrowed your eyebrows deeper at him in response and replied, “Still, you should pay. Earning money is difficult these days.” which piqued Hyunjin’s interest in you further.

“I will,” He assured you smoothly, bringing the bouquet down after and turning to the stand owner. Gesturing to the chrysanthemums you’ve been eyeing, he then continues, “if you let me pay for your chrysanthemums. The reason why I couldn’t pay is because my money right now is too big, anyway.”

You protested against his offer politely, reasoning out that you had no intention of buying, but with Hyunjin’s status as a noble also came a persuasive charm to him. “Didn’t you just move here? I can tell with the travelling hanbok.” He pointed out to you, already gathering the best-looking chrysanthemums before he could even hear you say ‘yes.’ You started showing signs of giving in after some five minutes of friendly banter, prompting his optimism. “Consider this as a welcoming gift!”

You had no choice but to accept the flowers in the end with the promise of giving him something in return when you meet again around the palace courts after briefly mentioning your reason for moving to the capital. Holding your bouquet on your left hand to mirror Hyunjin’s bouquet on his right, you then extended your right hand to him before you could part ways. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” You then introduced yourself, already too focused then on thinking of how to repay Hyunjin. “In case I forget and you want to look for me.“

“Hwang Hyunjin. I would definitely not forget but really, you don’t have to repay me.” He smiled as he took your hand in his, reluctantly letting go only when older passersby gave you curious looks. “I just hope you have a good stay here in Hanseong!”

You then made a bracelet out of one stem of the chrysanthemums almost a month later as payment, preserving the petals inside transparent beads with an enchantment that would prevent them from losing their vibrant blue. By this time, you have been seeing Hyunjin almost every day around the palace grounds and with this, he has been slowly piecing together the entire reason for your court presence. With the bracelet, you indirectly confirmed your true nature to him and he wholeheartedly accepted you with a hug behind the hallway pillars.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

You‘ve been best friends ever since, even when you had to leave two years later. At present, Hyunjin still wears the bracelet—even when you insist in making him a new one.

“I like it.” He always tells you whenever you would bring it up. “I liked it then, I like it now, and I’ll like it forever.”

“It’s ancient.” You would scrunch up your nose in response. “You could literally sell it at the local museum.”

“Well, that says a lot about your age, doesn’t i—ow! Ow, I won’t say that ever again just sto—ya, stop hitting me!”

seven

Your family briefly returned to Hanseong five years after your stay to attend one of the elder princesses’ wedding, the same princess your mother has been tasked to treat when she was hired by the king. You were eighteen and almost ready to part with your coven in the event that your mother will ask when you turn nineteen in the fall, having grown particularly proficient in brewing potions after you first left the capital. Hyunjin, on the other hand, became a more prominent public figure in the courts at nineteen as talks of the king appointing one of his sons as crowned prince become more frequent, thus initially making your first reunion awkward.

“Should I address you as Your Highness?” You asked between your teeth as you carefully curtsied back at Hyunjin, glancing on the corners of your eyes in case the passing servants were sparing you looks. “I don’t really know how these things work.”

“No, no need, I don’t think anyone really cares.” He chuckled with a shake of his head as the two of you then simultaneously stood up straight. Looking around the two of you after, his grin then grew wider when he looked back at you before he engulfed you in a hug, startling you— even more when he lifted you up slightly from the ground and spun you once. “Oh, Y/N, I missed you!”

“Y-Ya! Hyunjin, p-put me down, someone could see!” You scolded him instinctively while frantically looking around for any signs of his or your relatives. “Hyunjin!”

“Don’t mind them!” He countered back at you, burying his face into the crook of your neck with a deep inhale after putting you down. “I missed you. You haven’t written since late Spring!”

You shrugged, feeling strangely cold when he pulled away after. “I’ve been—well, we‘ve been busy. It’s the summer so a lot of people are asking for us and most of my cousins, um, parted with us after my last letter.”

“Oh.” He frowned, having thought of it negatively at first. “I’m sorry about that.”

You remember distinctly shaking your head reassuringly at him over his apology, waving your hand dismissively in front of him at realizing that he misinterpreted. “No, it’s alright. When you turn nineteen, you’re given the choice as tradition—most of my older cousins just so happened to choose parting ways with us.” You then explained, even giving him a small smile. “It’s nothing personal. It does give us the younger ones more work, though, hence why I couldn’t write.”

With your explanation, Hyunjin then smiled. “Oh, oh, I see.” He muses. “Then, I’m glad we meet again after a long time! I really was starting to worry you were taking longer to reply!”

“Well, we’ll be staying here for two weeks—that should be enough time to catch up.” You then matched your smile with his, following him to the palace gardens when he offers you to, ‘for old time’s sake’ he reasoned. “Then at the end of the week, we get to attend a wedding! Honestly, I’m really excited, I’ve only ever seen weddings from afar when my aunt would perform rituals for good weather.”

“Then you’ll be in for a great time! Weddings are absolutely lovely, especially here in court!” He promised you that afternoon before proceeding to recall to you the countless weddings that have happened within the confines of the palace courts in his life.

Only, the wedding somehow ended in catastrophe when the day actually came because of a group of hired assassins who managed to get to nearly every one of the royal family in attendance including Hyunjin.

“Hyunjin!” You cried for him amidst the stampede and the fire that has somehow started from one of the guest tables, Chaeyeon and Chaeryeong tugging you in the opposite direction by your arms and waist waist and preventing you from running back to his bloodied body. “Hyunjin!”

“Y/N, no, we have to leave!” Chaeryeong scolded you countless of times that night, tears streaming down her own face in fear as your mothers and aunts ushered your entire coven to retreat back to the woods. “We have to go!”

“B-But Hyunjin!” You insisted in between sobs every single time, your attempts at escaping your cousins’ grasps becoming weaker and weaker until they eventually managed to reunite you with the rest of your coven after. “We can still save him—I can save him! He’s still conscious, for God’s sake!”

Hyunjin received two fatal stab wounds to his chest and stomach that night as one of the assassins’ last few victims before fleeing because of the fire, pushing him on his stomach to the ground in his own pool of blood. Even with the fear and panic coursing through your veins and your blurry vision as you navigated your way through the chaos, you knew that you could heal him quickly with the right enchantments and potions and that you could carry him with you all the way to the forest where your needed herbs could possibly be available but your cousins wouldn’t listen to you, forcing you to abandon your friend that night for your own sake.

You remember vividly, even to this day, this particular image of Hyunjin seemingly dying on the ground, eyes pleading you to follow your cousins as he clutched his chest and choked on his own blood, because it still gives you nightmares every night despite the assurance that he was eventually saved. Hyunjin laughs at you over this now but whenever you would scowl and hit him in the arm for making it seem as if he thinks of his human death as a joke, he would immediately pull you into his embrace and apologize.

“I’m sorry.” He always whispers in your ear at present, stroking your hair and hugging you significantly tighter each time. “It’s just that it’s all in the past now and I’ve let it go way back. I just hope you do too because I’m still here—and I’ll always be.”

“I don’t think I can—not in a hundred more years, I think.” You would frown in response, also recently acquiring the habit of gathering fistfuls of his shirt in the process. “It’s too—it’s too—“

“I understand. Shh. I’m sorry, again...”

nine

In the event that a family member turns twenty-one, your entire extended family gathers to perform a ritual on the full moon after their date of birth in order to grant them immortality which can only be broken by willful death. It was an ancient and seemingly controversial tradition unique to your family, the elder generations were close and wanted to be close with everyone in this fashion.

When you were younger, with your innocent sense of adventure, you’ve always looked forward to being the recipient of this particular ritual at the thought that it would give you more time to explore both in and, hopefully, out of Korea. But when it came to the first full moon after your twenty-first birthday, you felt nothing but dread throughout the entire night.

“I just think it’s meaningless!” You cried into Chaeryeong’s shoulder once you’ve managed to return to your lodgings, pulling your knees closer to your chest as the two of you sat in your bed. “Why should I continue living when I have nothing to look forward to anymore? When someone else deserved to live?”

Chaeryeong still feels guilty about it even at present, often apologizing to Hyunjin whenever she would come across him, but she felt this feeling the heaviest in this moment hundreds if years ago as she stroked your back comfortingly. “I’m so sorry, Y/N...I know anything I can say right now wouldn’t make you feel better or make what happened right but I’m so sorry. It was you or him and Chaeyeon and I had to make a choice.”

“But w-we could’ve—we could’ve s-saved him!”

“I know, I know, and I’m sorry...”

“Hyunjin, my best friend—“ You sobbed until morning despite Chaeryeong’s pleas for you to sleep. “My Hyunjin, he’s gone because of me.”

And until morning, Chaeryeong kept an eye out for you in case you did something to yourself as you mourned. “None of it was your fault. If anything, it was mine.” She told you over and over again until you fell asleep at sunrise. “Y/N, please...”

Chaeryeong and Chaeyeon ended up watching over you closely for the two months that followed, wary of your actions until you confronted them again about it and assured them that you weren’t thinking about doing something else that could potentially harm you.

You then completely parted ways with them after.

eighty-eight

You have already travelled the entirety of Korea on your own once when you unexpectedly meet Hyunjin again. Eighty-one years after his supposed death and with a new king already on the throne, you‘ve almost forgotten all about your childhood best friend because of the passing time that it completely startled you when you saw a glimpse of his face in the crowd of a village somewhere in Pyongyang.

He smiled at you from afar in the brief second your eyes first met, even subtly tipping his hat as he walked towards you from the opposite direction which effectively froze you in the middle of the street.

Shaking your head in thought, you frowned and look away at the seemingly random remembrance of the past. You’ve always thought then that you’ve already forgotten most of your childhood, especially those that ended in tragedy, and so you instantly felt a wave of disappointment in yourself at suddenly seeing a familiar face of the past in the crowd.

But when you looked up and see that Hyunjin has already reached you on your spot, your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes began to sting in the moment as tears threatened to fall at the sight of seeing your best friend’s smile again in person. You then instinctively held out a hand to touch his hanbok. “Y-You—y-you’re—“

“I-I’m alive...” He stammered out almost in the same fashion as you, his grin only growing bigger after the longer you stood frozen in front of him. When you don’t respond immediately in prolonged shock, he then lifted you up in a hug, planting your feet right on top of his this time as he pulled you impossibly closer to him. “I missed you, very, very much. I thought I’d never see you again.”

It took you a long moment to hug him back, making some passersby look. “I thought I—I thought that I’d never see you again.” You reply once you find your voice again, warily lifting your hands up to his shoulders as if he might disappear. “How are you—h-how are you alive?”

Pulling away briefly to examine his face, you then added, “A-and you look the same...”

At first, Hyunjin only shook his head at you, still overwhelmed at finally seeing you again to care about explaining. “I’ll, uh, I’ll explain everything later.” He whispered to you, pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes as he sighs in relief. “Please, just...let me hold you for now.”

After this scene in public, Hyunjin then took you to the lodgings where he was staying at with his friend, Seungmin, whom you would eventually came to realize was the vampire who saved him that night along with the fact that your best friend was now a vampire himself. “I was passing by the palace grounds on the way to a safe passage to the next village.” Seungmin elaborated further on Hyunjin’s story over a cup of tea and buckets of crying. “When I saw the fire, I got curious and approached then I saw Hyunjin trying to crawl out to safety so I helped him up, took him to the forest, and turned him.”

Seungmin would also tell you much later on, when you meet again by chance centuries later in 1930s Thailand, that he also didn’t know first-aid at the time so his immediate alternative was to turn Hyunjin in panic, having seen another friend of his, Chan, do it in a similar extreme emergency situation. Hyunjin also laughs at this at present, especially when he first found out, and you’d let yourself giggle occasionally but you always make sure to thank him sincerely after, even when he always assures you that it’s nothing. “You helped me reunite with my best friend.” You would tell him, your voice always low enough so only Seungmin would hear even with Hyunjin’s enhanced hearing. “You didn’t just saved him that night, you saved me too—just eighty-one years later—so thank you.”

And so, you ended up travelling with the two for almost a hundred and fifty years, eventually meeting Seungmin’s other nomadic friends while helping Hyunjin adjust better to his new lifestyle and developing skills. You only had to forcibly part ways after because your mother sent you a letter all the way from Xinjiang, China, requesting for your presence at a family member’s funeral.

“The mourning period for our family is is fifty years,” You explained to the two on the morning you had to leave them. You were staying in Beijing during this time in 1657. “and she was my mother’s favourite sister, I have to be there for her, especially.”

Hyunjin had a slight frown in his face until you left on a horse-drawn carriage that day but he straightened it out into a thin line and pursed his lips once: when he came to hug you goodbye as you were packing, wrapping his arms around your waist in a back hug. “Write to me, please?” He pleaded over your shoulder. “If we really have to be apart again for a long time, then at least write to me.”

You nodded at his request, swiftly turning around to prperly hug him back. “I will, promise, just tell me where you’ll be next.” You instructed him, pulling away after to hug Seungmin goodbye. “Please take good care of yourselves and always be careful.”

“We will.” Seungmin assures you sincerely, having grown fond of you in a familial way over the years. “You take care, too.”

“I’ll see you again very soon!”

Hyunjin received a letter from you almost two months later, thus beginning your hundred years long correspondence.

three-hundred eighty-eight

When the fifty-year mourning period for your family ended, your mother asked you to stay with her longer, prompting you to write to Hyunjin that you’ll have to extend your time away before being free to meet him again. Simultaneously, Hyunjin began writing to you about his and Seungmin’s adventures with Chan, Minho, Changbin, and Seungmin around Asia, especially the possibility of him and his friends of the same nature forming a coven amongst themselves and how he had somewhat developed a vampiric gift, the latter of which he couldn’t write to you about explicitly until you accidentally met again in person a month before your extended stay was over.

Well, you’re still not sure at present if you really did meet in person at the time because, besides some subtle inaccuracies in the memory itself, there would be times at present when Hyunjin would insist that you did and times when he would deny it completely in embarrassment. “You know, maybe you were just fever dreaming me up, then!” Hyunjin would tell you now whenever he feels like denying it as a slight blush creeps up his cheeks, coughing awkwardly in between and making sure to run as far away from you as possible. “Or maybe—ha!—did you have a crush on me as early as the 1600s? You know, they do say that distance makes the heart grow fonde—ow!”

But dream or not, this memory is still burned at the very back of your head even hundreds of years later and it’s embarrassingly awful that all of your telepath and clairvoyant friends either joke or complain to you about it from seeing fragments of it replay in your thoughts often.

In this memory, you met Hyunjin in your house at Xinjiang while your mother was away to run errands. You consider this as one of your biggest hints that this was a dream since Hyunjin and his friends were in Laos until you met with them halfway later on along with the fact that he appeared in your bedroom of all places when you have long made it a habit of placing all kinds of protective charms in this particular space of yours.

“H-Hyunjin?” You called out for him when you saw his reflection in the mirror as you worked on your desk, glancing over your shoulder with a fond smile on his lips. Turning around, you then jumped up from your seat and right into his arms, laughing in disbelief when you felt him encircle his arms around your waist. “Hyunjin! When did you get here? How did you get here? I thought you’re in—”

His laugh that followed still echoes at the back of your head occasionally, even more the feeling of his lips pressing a feathery kiss on the fabric draped over your shoulders. “Doesn’t matter, I’m here.” He dismissed with a sigh, pulling away from the hug after in order to gently cup your face in his hands. Tilting his head down slightly to level with your eyes, a smirk then formed on his lips as he studied your features carefully and added, “I missed you. You look even more beautiful than when we last met.”

Hyunjin insists that you’re exaggerating this part but his closest friend and current roommate, Jeongin, is a mind reader and the poor boy accidentally sees through your thoughts that it isn’t every time he brings it up, making everyone in the vicinity feel awkward and embarrassed. It also doesn’t help that, in this memory, you’re quite sure that Hyunjin surprised you with a kiss after, urgently crashing his lips onto yours and backing you up to your desk.

You always make sure to keep it in a part in your thoughts that Jeongin can’t read but, besides your genuine shock, you initially didn’t pull away from the kiss because of the feeling that the gesture somehow affirmed your previous doubts on your almost four hundred years-worth of feelings for your best friend. You didn’t kiss him back with as much force as he did, even when he almost drew blood from biting your bottom lip or when he smoothly slipped his tongue in your mouth as his hands took hold of yours on the sides of the desk, but you thought a lot about him in the moment—mostly about how you were questioning your feelings for him prior to when he appeared out of nowhere.

It also definitely didn’t help that he kept whispering ‘I missed you so much’ in between gasps of air too. It still makes your heart melt to this day (and Jeongin disgusted whenever he passes by you and accidentally hears your thoughts. “Can you two please just stop being horny over each other all the time? It’s been 700 years.” “Yang Jeongin, get back here!”)

You realized, as Hyunjin moved to trail desperate kisses down your neck, that maybe you did have a crush on your best friend and it was okay even if it was just because of the longing to see him after years or the loneliness of eternal life. You liked him a lot, maybe you even loved him as early as this moment you’re not even sure anymore but you’ve always been certain from that this very moment, you never wanted to be apart from him for too long.

But it still scared you after a while, even when you already felt assured over your previous qualms, and you unknowingly pushed him away because of this, right as he tugged on your clothes and snaked a hand up your dress. “Hyunjin, stop!” In a wave of fear, you pushed him away with an enchantment, making him fly all the way across the room until his back hit the opposite wall. “S-Shit, I’m so sorry, I—“

In response, you remember him shaking his head reassuringly. “It’s fine, don’t worry.” He assures you, his voice just barely above a whisper. “It’s just that I—nevermind, I should be sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/N...”

Before you could even say anything else, however, he vanished into thin air right in front of you, leaving you even more confused than before.

When you do actually meet Hyunjin and the others a month later, you couldn’t bring yourself to confront him about it somehow even when you were quick to notice that he was avoiding you after Minho proudly boasted to you that he started training Hyunjin to navigate other people’s dreams. Besides the fact that it made heat rise up to your face alarmingly that Changbin started joking about you trying to lure all vampires within the vicinity into sucking your neck dry, you also didn’t know how to approach Hyunjin in the case that you had to inevitably tell him your feelings. Though you had a clearer idea of your feelings then, you still weren’t ready to confess it to him yet.

So, reluctantly, you had to part ways again because of this, you coming up with a lame excuse to see your cousins all the way in Europe at the thought that you wanted to think your feelings through again while also giving Hyunjin his much needed space. You ended up leaving the group in 1763 somewhere in Shanghai, a hundred and nineteen years after the incident.

“Ah, I don’t think I’m suited for the coven life anymore.” You pointed out awkwardly at Hyunjin as you hugged him last at the ports. “It’s just—not the same, I guess. I think I have to travel on my own for a while...”

Even with the awkwardness, Hyunjin still hugged you tightly anyway and even planted a familiar kiss to your shoulder. “Write to me again, okay?”

“Always.” You assured through the frantic beating of your heart. You notice him catching your hand in between the two of you when you pull away from the hug, almost rendering you speechless. “I’ll see you when I see you. It’s just goodbye for now.”

Jeongin once spilled to you one day that of all the similar situations after that Hyunjin has let you go after seeing you again, he always thinks about this one in particular the most and how he should’ve asked for you to stay; and you hit the younger boy with one of your books in response for snooping. But still, it has also made you start wondering lately if things would’ve changed if you parted ways differently then.

“Yes, it’s goodbye for now.”

four hundred ninety-nine

The next two hundred and four years would then be spent in an unconscious game of cat and mouse between you and Hyunjin. Whenever Chan and Minho would let him, he would follow you by your letters around Europe and Africa and he would more often than not miss the opportunity of approaching. When he did manage to catch up with you, you would go to lunch with him and show him around the place you’re staying at until the tension eventually died off as you occupied yourselves with other things.

Hyunjin first saw you again in Crete in 1818 when you started to learn foreign forms of witchcraft, missing the chance to approach you only because you disappeared from his watch because he chickened out last minute from recalling your previous incident in his mind. He would then see you again in 1825 Austria, studying the stars with Chaeryeong and a friend, Yuna, until he missed you by a boat ride to Egypt, then again in 1861 Congo when he would got in the wrong carriage and somehow ended up in in Algeria.

You eventually noticed, of course, how his return addresses seemed to pattern yours but you never brought it up until you he first caught up with you in 1884 Spain, when you went to the same art exhibit and ended up talking for hours until the tensions from almost a hundred years before completely vanished. “Are you following me?” You asked him teasingly mid-conversation as the two of you observed the Spolarium. “You have accumulated wealth from 400 years and you spend it by following me?”

Hyunjin froze instinctively, an easy giveaway from him in your years of knowing each other. “What? No! I’m just—ya, you’re not the only one who can like travelling!” He quickly denied until you giggled in amusement, making him confess everything truthfully later on over lunch.

You then ended up dedicating two hours to recounting all the times you almost met, laughing at almost every one of them because of Hyunjin’s undeniable clumsiness. By the end of his tales, he’s pouting at all your teasing in defeat as he asked, “Can’t you really live with us again? We’ve all moved back in Korea, you know—well, except Seungmin since he’s back in his trying to get all kinds of educational degrees in the world phase again.”

You didn’t want to admit it to him then up until now but you’ve thought about the exact same thing countless of times in your travels. Learning new skills and travelling the world has always been something you thoroughly enjoyed, you are a traveler after all, but you also couldn’t deny that you’d miss seeing Hyunjin more than anyone else you’ve met in your whole lifetime.

Without you knowing, you’ve realized that somewhere in between the correspondences you’ve managed throughout the centuries and the frequent meetings around the world, you’ve completely fallen in love with your best friend. You were sure of it then.

However, before you parted ways again three years later to head further West while Hyunjin had to hurry back East for sneaking out from Minho this time, you answered his question with, “Let me think about it.”

And, surprisingly, he understood. When you wrote to him from Brazil six months later, he replies with a long letter detailing his adventures halfway across the world in New Zealand as well as Middlemist’s Reds pressed in between the papers—one you would scold him later on once you found out that they were extremely rare.

“Where did you put those rare New Zealand flowers, by the way?” Hyunjin asked you just last week, almost as if he remembered at the same time as you.

“It’s somewhere.” You mused absentmindedly over your cup of coffee, hand instinctively going up to fiddle with the pearls on your ears where you discreetly hid the flowers.

six-hundred eleven

When you met Seungmin by chance in 1930s Thailand, you immediately asked him about one of the earliest models of the 35 mm film he acquired from his own travels and the photos he took. Since Hyunjin was in California with Jisung, Jeongin, and Felix while Chan, Minho, and Changbin stayed behind in Korea, Seungmin showed you how the film worked by letting you see the photographs he took of your friends, especially Jeongin and Felix who were still new to their family at the time but you’ve immediately welcomed as your little brothers. The photographs mostly depicted them candidly in their day-to-day and though you have countless of similar photos now in your own smartphone, you couldn’t help but tear up at seeing these photos in particular at the time.

“Hey, don’t stain my photos now, the film’s expensive.” Seungmin chuckled as he patted your shoulders comfortingly with one hand while the other took the photos from your side of the table. “What’s wrong?”

You sobbed into his shoulder that afternoon, attracting the attention of some passersby at the restaurant you had breakfast together at. “I-I, uh—I missed everyone.” You told him, the first time you ever confided in someone else these very thoughts. Not even Chaeryeong, whom you would stay with every five years or so, knew this. “It’s just—it’s so lonely now and I...I love travelling but it just feels empty now—”

“Then come home. Come home when you think you’re ready, we’ll all be waiting for you—Hyunjin will be waiting for you.” Seungmin finished your thought for you gently, momentarily removing his hand from your shoulder to separate Hyunjin’s photos from the pile. Passing them to you again, he then adds, “If it makes you feel better, you can keep his photos if you want but for a little request.”

You then left Thailand to live with your mother in India four years later with Hyunjin’s photographs tucked neatly in the pages between his letters you’ve collected over the years in an enchantment pouch, acquiring them from Seungmin in exchange for photographs of you he would pass on to Hyunjin later on.

Along with the other photographs you would collect of Hyunjin and your other family and friends, these particular photos now line up almost all walls of your apartment in Seoul.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, though you’ve never confronted him about it, keeps your photos in his wallets and at the back of his clear phone case. Every time someone from the art gallery where he works in would ask him about it, he would always say that he DIY-ed them with his grandparents’ film and a coffee staining technique he got from YouTube.

six-hundred forty-eight

Your mother willfully passed away in 1967 by ingesting a concoction of poisonous herbs you reluctantly helped her make. She was 2,022 years old and surrounded by all of her daughters in her deathbed on that fateful Sunday morning—some of whom you’ve only met when you came to live with your mother again. Your relatives then came a week later for another 50 years of mourning and, as one of the elder daughters, you were tasked in helping cater to everyone in the time that you had to be secluded from the world in old rituals and traditions; thus, halting yet another plan of reuniting with Hyunjin.

It impacted you greater this time, not only because your mother was the one who passed away but also because you’ve already planned on returning permanently to Korea and reunite with Hyunjin this time. After six hundred years, you’ve finally sorted out your feelings for your best friend and fifty more years of being apart suddenly felt too long with this.

And, as if he had read your thoughts, Hyunjin visited you in your dreams on the night before you would enter into the fifty-year mourning period. Having gained more experience in honing this gift of his by this time, he somehow managed to fashion your dreams into happening against the backdrop of the familiar 1300s Korean landscape.

You dreamt of approaching Hyunjin at a flower stall in front of a marketplace akin to when you actually first met. Instead of having his back turned to you to pick on the carnations, however, he was waving at you with his arms outstretched for a hug, hanbok and everything.

“How did you do all this?” You asked in disbelief as you hugged him back, taking in all the detailed scenery from his shoulder. You knew that, in the real world, he was back in Korea by this time and helping Seungmin set up his own film company, easily giving away the dream nature of your meeting. Still, you touched all of the flowers and the fabric of his favorite red hanbok anyway, marveling at how his gift has grown since the last and only other time you experienced it.

“Lots of practice.” He shrugged with a proud grin, reluctantly letting you go after to take a good look at you. “I didn’t do anything weird to practice though, I mostly just terrorized Jisung in his dreams.”

You scoffed at him, hitting his chest playfully. Looking around again and even chuckling at how your dream was even filled with people, you then commented, “It’s beautiful.”

“I thought you needed some cheering up after what happened with your mom.” He explained, picking up a handful of carnations from the stall. Passing them to you, you were quick to notice how he didn’t let go of your hand after, prompting you to encourage him by lacing your fingers together. “I’m so sorry again. I’m sorry I can’t be with you right now, too.”

“It’s okay.” You assured him with a shake of your head, mustering up a smile. “Just reading your e-mails and receiving your photos were already comforting for me.”

"I can hop on a plane right now, if you need me.” He offers only to receive more assurance from you otherwise. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, finally letting go of his hand after. “I’m sure just...let me dream with you right now.” You confirmed, earning you an understanding nod from him. Smiling at this, you then asked, “So, what do you have for me here?”

Hyunjin then led you around your dream for the entire night, happily taking you to places you frequented when you were still children. You ran around the palace grounds, recounted village stories, ate popular foods of your time period, and laid in the grass of the palace gardens until you had to leave for an early start of your day when you suddenly felt someone shaking you awake from the physical world.

Reluctantly, you parted ways at the marketplace at the end of your dream.

“See you in 50 years?” He smiled sadly at you as you bid your goodbyes, awkwardly standing in front of you with his hands on his back. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

You nodded with a hum, a stray tear suddenly finding its way down your cheek. “I’ll come home in 50 years, I promise.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened at this, his mouth hanging agape as he stuttered, “W-Wha—?”

Before he could even coherently form his thoughts, however, you’ve already reached up to his cheek for a kiss before disappearing, leaving him alone in his own thoughts.

Before you could enter isolation with the rest of your family in the morning that followed, you then made sure to e-mail Chan and Seungmin instructions to arrange your flight back to Korea in 50 years, asking them to not tell Hyunjin towards the end of your long message.

six hundred ninety-eight

You returned to Korea on February 18, 2017 just as Chan and Seungmin have arranged for you, moving into one of Minho’s old apartment buildings where you still live at present. Following their further instructions, you then spent a whole month visiting all of your friends in their respective homes all around Korea (even Jeongin whom you met right under Hyunjin’s nose by visiting him in their home while his roommate was away for work) with your money you’ve entrusted Changbin to manage for you until you returned. You made sure to meet Hyunjin last, timing your reunion right on his 719th birthday.

Your closer group of friends threw him a surprise party in Gangnam on this year, renting an entire hotel building for yourselves and your other friends from all around the world. When you met Hyunjin that night, you had helped Felix bake and deliver his seven-tiered birthday cake for him, casting a spell on the candles so that they would explode in colorful fireworks and dust sprinkles all over the red velvet cake before they eventually fade. You eventually made your presence known to him when Jisung and Minho turned off the lights to the halls as he made a wish, standing next to him when he opened his eyes.

“Happy birthday!” You greeted him with a sheepish smile, laughing nervously when he jumped back in surprise.

Hyunjin, however, quickly recovered from his initial shock and lifted you up the ground easily, moving the two of you away from the cake so he could spin you around twice in a hug. “You’re here!” He exclaimed happily to your shoulders before putting you down, hugging you even tighter now that you’re stationary. “You came!”

“I’ve actually been here for a month.” You confessed bluntly, hugging him back by his shoulders. Your friends all cooed and gushed around you, eliciting heat to rise up your neck again (especially when Seungmin took out his camera to take photos) but Hyunjin only moves you away from everyone, still hugging you close. “I, uh, I moved in Minho’s old penthouse and everything. I’m staying this time.”

At your last revelation, only then did Hyunjin pulled away from you, his hands moving down to your elbows as his eyes widened in disbelief. “R-Really? You’re staying this time?”

“Permanently.” You answered with a smile, chuckling when he releases a relieved sigh and turns to everyone, happily telling them of your plans to stay. “I told you I was coming home.”

“That was what you meant?” He repeated, earning him a nod from you. With that, he then hugged you again. “I’m glad...finally.”

You then spent the rest of the night catching up with everyone at the party but most especially the birthday celebrant himself whom you couldn’t seem to get off of your side throughout most of the night. You ate, drank, sang, and danced with until early morning, until Hyunjin pulled you away from the naturally dying festivities to watch the sunrise with him at the rooftop.

“I wondered why you’ve rarely replied to my messages on social media lately.” He frowned at you once you’ve reached the rooftop, settling on a random bench with the perfect view of the rising sun. “You could’ve told me you already arrived! I wanted to show you the gallery I’m working in these days!”

“I’m still getting used to social media!” You defended yourself with a chuckle, pinching his cheeks and pulling them up to a smile which immediately makes Hyunjin laugh. “And I wanted to surprise you! I planned it with Chan and Seungmin 50 years ago—actually, even way back with Seungmin when we met in the 30s.”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at you with this. “Hm? You did?”

“You remember when Seungmin and I met in Thailand in the 30s?” You asked, Hyunjin nodding along in response. “Before we exchanged our photos, he sort of talked me into it. I figured that I was getting tired of travelling for a really long time and he assured me that I can come home when I want to...that I can come home to you and everyone else...”

Next to you, Hyunjin smiled as you spoke, the side of his face glowing faintly in the oranges and pinks of the early sunlight as he sat with his body turned completely to you. When you trail off with your words, he then muses, “Yeah, you can always come home to me...I missed you so much.”

“You always say that whenever we reunite.” You point out without any hint of malice in your tone, pulling your legs up to the bench and pressing them close to your chest.

“Don’t you miss me too?” He frowned teasingly, poking you on your sides.

“Of course, I missed you too. I missed you everyday when we’re apart.” You assured, shrugging. “It’s just...”

When you turn to Hyunjin, your eyes widened when you realized that he has leaned in closer to you, pressing his forehead to yours when you finally meet his gaze again. “Can I confess something?”

Speechless, you could only muster a weak nod then.

“I’ve always missed you, even from when you first left me when we were younger because I’ve loved you even then.” He whispered just inches away from your lips. “I’ve loved you and waited for you for almost seven hundred years.”

You thought he’d kiss you after his declaration but he only looked up at you in anticipation after, as if he was expecting you to say something. Caught off-guard, you let a brief pause pass by first before replying, “I-If you’ve always had, then why did you let me go each time?”

“Because you’ve always been a traveler.” He answered, slowly closing his eyes and leaning in again. At this point, it felt as if he was only waiting on you to lean in on your own accord, the realization knocking out the air in your lungs. “And I’ve always hoped that you’d come back to me forever when you wanted to, if you wanted to—and now here we are.”

“Here we are.” You repeated slowly, finally closing the small gap between the two of you with your hands going up to his hair.

Unlike when Hyunjin first kissed you centuries before when you were still unsure of your feelings, this particular kiss was slow and almost feathery against your lips but somehow it also felt similarly urgent and heavy, bearing all of your hidden emotions of seven hundred years. Hyunjin only deepened the kiss when you whispered ‘I love you’ to him when you first pulled away to catch your breath, smiling uncontrollably when you kissed him again.

“I love you too.” He replies when you have to catch your breath again, pulling away completely this time so he can gaze down at you fondly with his hand on your cheek never leaving your side to pat your head affectionately. “Always.”

Hyunjin didn’t ask you to be his significant other afterward, not even when he took you home, but you both agree that there was an unspoken agreement between the two of you that day, especially when he didn’t leave immediately after dropping you off, preferring instead to trap you in between himself and the back of your front door while peppering kisses all over your face.

“Still not cool, though.” Jisung teases every now and then at present, making Hyunjin roll his eyes every time. “You could’ve at least been a little more romantic with a confession or something! You’re from the 1300s, for crying out loud! Didn’t you guys court people and stuff?!”

“But we’re in 2020 now.” Hyunjin has resorted to replying to this lately, even doing as much as chucking something at the younger boy (often Seungmin’s baseball bat for some reason). “Anyway, I’ve known Y/N for 700 years. It’d be even more uncool when you say you’ve pined over each other for 700 years and have only been dating for a year.”

“Yeah so better start now than never, ri—ow, Y/N! I’m trying to defend you and you hit me with a pan?!”

Without anyone knowing, however, Hyunjin did formally asked you to be his significant other when the summer came, sending you all of your letters for him by the traditional post. The delivery man looked at you weirdly when he arrived at your doorstep, there were seven boxes full of old all kinds of envelopes and bundles of papers after all, but you only smiled sheepishly at him and tipped him extra.

“Ya, why did you send me all of your letters?” You feigned complaint at Hyunjin once he arrived at your place and successfully helped you getting all the boxes in your living room. “The shipping company probably thinks I’m stealing museum artifacts right under their noses or something.”

“I thought it’d be cute to do send it traditionally!” He pouted before pulling you down on your sofa next to him and opening the first box. “I didn’t even know it was gonna arrive today!”

“What are we doing with all these anyway?” You asked, carefully picking up a random envelope. “You know some of these could break from the air, it doesn’t take a Chemist or a Curator to know that.”

“Ah, yes, but I did got these scanned on a hard drive in case they do break! We have to keep up with the times, Y/N! I’m going to have to scan yours one of these days.” Hyunjin grinned proudly as he swiftly swapped your envelope for the chronologically correct one. “Now, we’re going to look through these letters in the right order!”

As it turns out, Hyunjin had hidden his original unsent letters in between the letters you gave him, reading them aloud to you and using them to ask you to be his significant other. “We could’ve been dating ages ago!” He commented playfully in between the more intimate ones, giggling when you frowned or tear up in response. “Ah, Y/N, don’t cry please! Shh, it’s okay, baby, I’m reading these to you just how much I love you, okay? Don’t cry...”

“T-That’s exactly why I’m c-crying!”

“So, does that mean, you’re, you know, you’re saying—”

“You didn’t even have to go through all this trouble!”

Hyunjin still teases you for crying then, mostly because he feels proud that you think he outdid Changbin’s lavish proposal to his fiancé in the Maldives with this gesture.

seven hundred one

Though most of Hyunjin’s family of vampires have had and/or currently have their own history of relationships, Changbin is the first of Hyunjin’s coven who announced plans of getting married. His fiancé, Haseul, insisted; something about having waited 900 years because they weren’t ‘as lucky as some people.’

You know she’s subtly hinting at you, even going as far as winking at you from across the room when she repeated the words at rehearsal dinner earlier this evening, but you only rolled your eyes at her playfully, dismissing the thought.

“Why did you even sleep for 900 years? I still don’t understand.” You asked her after once you’ve gotten her alone, sharing a bottle of champagne on the side of the dance floor while giggling at Jeongin and his date trying to out-fluster each other on the dance floor. The DJ Chan hired has long shifted the songs from lively EDM tracks to slower love songs so, with everyone assuming that her and Changbin are busy dancing together, no one would bother the two of you for a while.

Haseul only shook her head as she chugged down champagne straight from the bottle, making you wonder if older vampires really just act as casual as she and Changbin do by default. “It’s really complicated stuff, the practice probably died down when you were born.” She waved her hands frantically in front of you, pretending to stumble after and laughing when you don’t fall for it. You’ve had enough experience living with the boys to know that vampires don’t get drunk with alcohol. “Anyway, that’s not the point! Point is, don’t wait for a sorcerer to curse you with ancient blood magic and make you sleep for 900 years before you decide on taking a big leap in a relationship like getting married! Do it now, especially now while wedding fashion still looks cute!”

You only pouted at her, taking the bottle from her hands and refilling your glass. “You know how I feel about weddings.” You pointed out in a smaller voice, effectively turning her teasing smile into a serious thin line. “And it’s not like we actually need weddings. It’s just an old ceremony that doesn’t even hold up much for us since we’ll be spending the rest of forever with each other, anyway.”

“Yeah, but...you know...” Haseul opened her mouth to counter your argument before pursing her lips at seeing your now downcast expression. “...Sorry, I...that was insensitive of me.”

You glanced over at her for a moment, furrowing your eyebrows before mustering up a reassuring smile and a shake of your head. “I—no, it’s fine. It’s just—I respect weddings for people who want them...I think I might even want them for myself if things from the past didn’t turn out the way they did. Because of that, I don’t think I’ll be in one myself...maybe if Hyunjin wants to but I don’t know how he feels about marriage or how he feels with how I feel about it...does that make sense?”

Haseul really wanted to tell you right there and then that Hyunjin personally asked her to ask you about it in exchange for him to tone down his groomsman’s speech at the wedding next week. Instead, she only slung a comforting arm over your shoulder. “I get what you mean. I wasn’t sure about how to bring up marriage to Changbin at first, too—being in a relationship even when I woke up a century ago.” She comforted you with a lighthearted chuckle towards the end, rubbing small circles on your shoulder blades. “But whatever you and Hyunjin decide to do together, I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end.”

But still, the thought lingered at the back of your mind for the rest of the night, especially when Hyunjin asked you to dance later on.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked you curiously once you’re facing him again after twirling you once. “You know you’ve had that same thinking look since you and Haseul started drinking champagne. What’s wrong?”

You looked up at him from your daze, eyes widening momentarily as you processed his words. When you regain composure, you shake your head and answer, “N-Nothing, I’m just, a bit sleepy.”

Hyunjin frowned slightly, slowing your movements. “Must be the punch, I knew we shouldn’t have let Felix put in that weird blood mix on it.”

“There’s blood on the punch?”

“Type AB, I think—”

“—What? Gross!” You scrunched up your nose in disgust, making Hyunjin laugh.

“I was just kidding, at least now you’re awake!” He pointed out in between laughter before going back to being serious. “But seriously, what’s wrong?”

You took a moment to respond, eventually settling for a sigh. “Haseul just talked to me about marriage...”

“Oh.” Hyunjin mused out loud and you’re quick to observe the way his expression falters ever so slightly, as if expecting the worse out of your next words. “What did she say?”

“She just told me again how marriage and other ‘big leaps in relationships’ need to be timed correctly or something.” You answered, pursing your lips in between. “So I told her that yeah, I agree, but I don’t know how I feel about it on a personal level.”

Hyunjin’s gaze then softened from the corner of your eyes. “Is it because of what happened before?” He asked carefully, tucking the loose strands of your hair behind your ear.

“A bit, yeah.” You nodded. “But if you’re—i-if you think otherwise, if you want to get married or something, then I’ll be okay.”

“I’m only following you, Y/N.” He reminded you, halting the two of you from dancing altogether as he becomes much more sincere with his words. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll follow.”

You smiled up at him appreciatively, lacing your fingers with his in between the two of you. “I was hoping it’d be the other way around, you know how indesicive I could be sometimes.”

“But do you want to get married?” He asked nervously after, slowly inching the two of you away from the dance floor now and into a quieter area on the sides of the hall. “Or...anything of the sort?”

“Maybe...I don’t know...” You frowned, more to yourself in frustration.

But Hyunjin only nodded in understanding, patting your head before pressing a kiss to your temple affectionately. “It’s okay, I understand. Don’t beat yourself too much over it, okay?”

Now, a week later, while you and Hyunjin were spending the Saturday afternoon in his bed, he suddenly pulls you on top of him so you’re laying on top of his chest, taking out a single blue chrysanthemum from his bedside table. “I bought this last week and asked Jeongin’s new friend to preserve it with an enchantment.” He hurriedly explains before you could even scold him for suffocating a flower inside the drawers of his bedside table. “Hear me out first.”

“What’s this for all of sudden?” You ask curiously, taking the flower and picking on the petals as Hyunjin then lifts you up with him while sitting up straight, moving you to straddle his lap.

“I’ve just been thinking...mostly about what Haseul said.” He explains, his hand then moving over to something else in his bedside drawer. “...and, of course, she has a point, I’d take someone’s word for it especially if they’ve been asleep for a huge chunk of the years humans have been on Earth but I also know that we’re a little different from her and Changbin because of what happened in the past.”

You’re immediately rendered speechless from the very start of his speech, even more when he finally finds the velvet box in his bedside drawer. Opening it in between the two of you, you wanted to laugh at the way an extra copy of the keys to his new apartment peeks out from the cushions supporting the main purpose of the box, a ring with a simple round cut diamond and two sapphires, but you end up crying first before chuckling, easing Hyunjin’s own nerves.

“Is the key really that visible? I thought I hid that pretty well when Changbin and I picked this up.” Hyunjin pouts, briefly turning the box in his direction to examine it properly and take the key out before directing it to you once again with a chuckle. “Anyway, as I was saying, marriage is cool and all but it’s not like one of us is being chased by a psycho sorcerer like Haseul so we can definitely take our time if we eventually want to.”

“But still, a little reassurance wouldn’t hurt so...will you move in with me?—or just wear the ring, come over more often, and maybe tell me you love me more than you usually do; that’s also fine.”

You hit him on his shoulder with a laugh, making him lean his head back in laughter too at his own silliness. “You really aren’t that romantic when it actually comes down to it, Jisung was sort of right.” You muse out loud, taking out the key from the cushions.

“Ya!” He protests, taking your hand anyway and sliding the ring on your finger. “If it was still the 1300s, I would’ve had to ask people’s approval, carved ducks, and everything and it would’ve taken forever! It’s been 700 years so cut me some slack here!”

Still, no matter how much you laugh after, you say yes anyway but not without making him promise that he’ll re-do his ‘proposal’ again so Jisung would stop roasting him about it.

“I will, I will,” He assures dismissively, pulling you in for a kiss. “when you’re actually ready to marry...or say cheesy vows in front of everyone, whichever you prefer.”

“That’s going to take 700 more years.” You joke against his lips with a giggle, making him scrunch up his nose in disapproval.

“Fine, I guess I can wait a little more.”

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tinysidestrashcaptain · 3 years

Text

It's Only Logical - Chapter 22

Chapter 22: The Big Day

First chapter Previous Chapter

Pairings: Logicality/Prinxiety

Warnings: None, this is all fluff!

Virgil’s eyes scanned the jeweler's case with an increasing sense of frantic paranoia. The wedding was literally two days away, and Logan had physically dragged him from his house to finally find Roman’s wedding ring. Perhaps the notion that he could find the perfect ring was one he should have deleted from his brain around jewelry store number three, but he really hadn’t expected it to be this difficult to find a damn ring! And he hadn’t MEANT to put it off this long, LOGAN, but nothing that he saw was really right.

“There are literally ten rings that Roman would wear right in this first row, Virgil. You’re getting married in 48 hours, and you can’t do that without a ring, or so I have been told.” Logan arched a brow at Virgil, who shot him a frustrated glare.

“It can’t be just ANY ring! I need a ring that’s at least as good as the one currently sitting on my left hand!” Virgil held out the hand in question, the ring of red and black melding together in a perfect mix of himself and Roman. “Standard diamonds and gold just aren’t going to cut it here.”

Just as Virgil was about to write it off as yet another failure and melt into a small puddle of panic, Logan spotted a ring in the back of a small case. It was black with a twisting motif of purple, Virgil’s favorite color. “What about that one?”

The ring that Roman had given him sat heavy on Virgil’s finger, and he looked closer at that one ring. It was...him. It would be his favorite color on Roman’s finger, for always. “Excuse me, can I see this one, please?”

“Of course, sir.” The jeweler smiled as she opened the case and pulled the black and purple ring out for Virgil to inspect. As he turned it over in his hands, he thought about how it would look on Roman, about how this flash of dark and color would gleam against tanned skin.

“I’ll take it.” Virgil’s soft smile melted into a put upon scowl as Logan heaved a great sigh of relief. “What?!? It had to be perfect!”

“I’m just relieved that perfection actually exists. What kind of best man would I be if I let you face your future husband without a wedding ring? You’d be dead before you were married.” Logan grinned as Virgil playfully smacked him.

“Yeah, yeah, you saved the day. Now let me pay for this so I can finally check the one thing I’m responsible for in this wedding off my list.” Virgil handed over his credit card with no regrets, taking the small bag from the jeweler with a grateful smile.

“That’s not true, Virgil. You’re also responsible for showing up.” Logan followed him out of the shop, giving the amused jeweler a friendly wave goodbye.

“Nah, that’s what you’re responsible for.” Virgil winked at him as he got into Logan’s car.

“Oh, so I have to add “wrangle Virgil” to my list of matrimonial duties? Thought you were looking forward to this.” Logan laughed as he started the car and drove them towards the cafe.

“Oh, I am. Probably not as much as Roman, if the sobbing over his wedding binder last night was anything to go by.” Virgil shook his head fondly at the memory. “I don’t know, I just don’t see the point of all the fuss, you know? We love each other. We’re in this for life, until we’re old and wrinkly and gray. That’s the headline here, everything else is just window dressing.”

“Don’t let Roman hear you say that! He’s worked very hard on this wedding and it means a great deal to him.” Logan shot Virgil a warning look, arching a brow as his best friend put both hands in the air like he was surrendering.

“I know, and that’s the only reason it matters to me at all. You know me, I hate all the attention, but Roman wants this. He’s been dreaming of this, and I want to give him that one perfect day, you know?” He looked out the window, face flushing at the admission.

“Yeah, I know. Why do you think I agreed to turn Roman’s backyard into his dream garden? Roman wanted to get married at his house, where we all had so many good memories with us and Mom, and I couldn’t say no even if I’d wanted to.”

“His puppy dog eyes should be classified as a lethal weapon, I’m telling you!”

“Oh, his have nothing on Patton’s, let me assure you. Seems to be a family trait.�� Logan chuckled as he remembered the way Patton and Thomas had ganged up on him last week. “And Thomas isn’t far behind. I truly stand no chance.”

“Wow, two Sanders Puppy Dog eyes at once? You are well and truly fucked, Lo. There is no escape.” Virgil gave his arm a sympathetic pat as they parked. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the rehearsal dinner. You're still good with all of us crashing at your house for it, right?”

“It’s not like I don’t have the room, Virgil. Go, have fun. Enjoy your last night as singles together, since Roman already asked me to have a guest room made up for you so you won’t see him before the wedding.” Logan laughed as Virgil groaned loudly in protest and threw his head back against the seat.

“Great. Can’t wait. I’ll see you tomorrow, Lo….and….thanks. For everything, you know?”

“You don’t ever have to thank me. We’re family, this is what we do for each other.” Logan’s face softened at his best friend’s quiet words, and he knew why Virgil had said it. Not many people would have given or done as much as he had, and his best friend hadn’t had the easiest life growing up. Of course he’d feel the need to express gratitude, even if it was totally unnecessary. “...Did you ever decide? About your mother?”

Virgil froze, his whole face shuttering like a switch had been flipped. “Yup. Not changing my mind. She may have given birth to me, but she isn’t my mother. My mom is buried out in the cemetery, and my brother is my best man. I don’t need any other family than that.”

Logan felt sentimental tears sting his eyes at that, and he blinked rapidly to keep them at bay. “Alright then. Your family will be right there with you, every step of the way. For what it’s worth, Mom would have been very proud of you. She always thought you and Roman would make a good couple, so she’s probably giggling into her tea right now.”

“Goddammit, why did EVERYONE figure us out before we did?!?” Virgil shook his head as he got out of the car, leaning down to meet Logan’s eyes. “She would have loved all this. Like to think she’s still watching, you know?”

“She is, Virgil. And she’ll definitely be watching on the big day.” He watched Virgil nod once before closing the door and heading into the house, leaving his purchase with Logan for safekeeping until the ceremony.

__________________________________________

It was a perfect day for it, tailor made with candy blue skies and balmy air scented with flowers. Everything that Logan had planted with Patton and Virgil’s help was blooming in an explosion of shapes and colors. There were white chairs set on the lawn, and a shimmery drape of fabric tied with bunches of fresh flowers marked the aisle that Roman would walk down.

Patton turned away from the window, smiling as he watched his mother and sister fuss over Roman’s gown. It was a stunning dress, an elaborate white ball gown with beading and a train, dyed red just at the bottom. Roman had foregone a veil in favor of fresh flowers woven into his hair, and Val had done his makeup in red and gold with lashes that made his eyes look stunning. His brother looked beautiful today, and he could feel himself getting a little misty. “You look incredible, Ro.”

“Damn straight he does! God, I wish I had your cheekbones.” Val giggled as she applied just a touch more highlight before stepping away to let Roman inspect her work. “Virgil is going to absolutely die. I can’t wait.”

“Oh honey, there is nothing straight about today! But I do look spectacular, if I do say so myself.” Roman laughed before giving Valerie a fond hug. “Thank you, menace.”

“You’re welcome, brat.” Val mumbled, blinking back some tears.

“You always were a queen, sweetheart. Today you just look the part.” Lydia grinned as her children laughed, then gently reached out to take Roman’s hand. She placed a beautiful bracelet of sapphires and diamonds on Roman’s wrist, fiddling with the clasp until it sat just right. “Logan asked me to give you something today. Something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue, isn’t that the old saying? He said it was his mother’s set, so now you’ve got the borrowed, blue and old all in one.”

Roman took a deep, shuddering breath, one hand gently tracing over the bracelet with shaking fingers. “I wish you could have spent more time with Minny, mom.”

“I do, too, sweetheart. She was a special woman, and it’s so sweet of Logan to think of this. And all the work he did to put this together just how you wanted? You’d better say thank you.” Lydia smiled as she straightened Roman’s train, fluffing it a little. “And Patton, you’d better hang on to him.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, I intend to.” Patton laughed as he gave Roman a hug. “Now, you ready to get out there and wow the crowd?”

“Aren’t I always?” Roman laughed as he took his bouquet from Val, straightening his shoulders. He knew it wasn’t traditional for a man to wear the dress, but he’d always wanted a gown and his family and future husband were more than supportive. He felt beautiful, regal even, and he couldn’t wait to see Virgil’s face.

Out on the lawn, just underneath an arch that was decorated with red roses and purple wisteria, Virgil fidgeted as Logan straightened his tie for him. “Not getting the jitters, are you, Virge?”

Virgil smiled at him and shook his head. “I’m not nervous anymore, not even a little jump in my belly, Lo. He’s a good man.”

“Yes, he is. A very good one.”

“I made him wait for so long. Years, when you think about it.” He let out a laughing breath as the music struck up. “Time’s up.”

Logan chuckled and took his place by Virgil’s side, feeling his heart absolutely melt at the sight of little Lily toddling carefully down the aisle in her dress, tossing flower petals, then little Thomas in his suit carrying the rings. He gave Thomas a thumbs up before taking the ring boxes with a smile. Patton entered next, his blue eyes alight with joy as he took his place opposite Virgil, Logan and Thomas, gently holding Lily’s hand.

It was sweet, watching Roman walk down the aisle to Virgil. Watching Virgil’s face light up in awed delight at the sight of his future husband. The ceremony was perfect, soft and lovely with a gentle breeze wafting the perfume of the floral blooms through the air. They had wanted to get married in the garden they would tend, in the home they would live in together, and it struck Logan as a perfectly romantic setting.

Virgil’s vows were earnest and heartfelt, prompting Roman to blink rapidly and fan himself to avoid crying. Roman’s own vows were poetic but heart wrenchingly honest, and Virgil kissed his hand after they exchanged rings. It was perfect, Virgil looking handsome in his suit, Roman looking flawless in his gown, and the crowd broke into spontaneous applause when Virgil swept his husband off his feet and twirled him around before kissing him. Barbara topped off the ceremony by popping the first bottle of champagne to toast the happy couple.

“You do good work, sweetheart.” Patton said as he clinked a champagne glass against Logan’s.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“It’s like a family tree. They two of them sprung from a branch on your tree. You aren’t family by blood but it amounts to the same, really. It’s their connection to you that brought them together. They did the rest, but the connection started it,” Patton said softly, watching his brother beam from Virgil’s arms as the photographer snapped pictures.

“That’s a sweet thought. I’ll take it.” Logan sipped his champagne and blinked back the sting of sentimental tears. He’d been mentally wrestling with his own thoughts and feelings lately, and watching the joy on his best friend’s face today was settling his heart into the comfortable acceptance that this was something he might just want for himself. “I wanted to talk to you about something, actually. It can wait until after Roman has his big day. By rights, a wedding day should belong to the bride, after all.”

“Oh? What did you want to talk about?”

“Let’s just say it’s about connections.” Logan gave Patton’s cheek a fond kiss. “I need to run back to the house really quickly. With all the excitement today, I forgot the very special bottle of champagne I had for the bride and groom.”

“I can go get it,” Patton offered, running one hand down Logan’s back with a smile.

“It’ll be faster if I do it. Fifteen minutes, tops.”

As he walked to his car, he was stopped when Barbara called out to him. “Hey, Logan! Hold up!” She paused by Logan, slightly breathless with a crying Lily in her arms. “I’ve got a cranky little girl here who won’t go down for her nap. Car rides always put her out. We can take mine, it has the car seat?”

“Sure. It’s going to be a quick run, though.”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter. She’ll be out like a light in a minute.” Barbara gave him a grateful smile as she expertly wrestled Lily into her car seat and started towards Logan’s house. As advertised, the baby’s head started to droop and she quieted before they even got out of Roman’s driveway.

“Works like a charm.”

“From what Patton tells me, it does the same for Thomas, too. She looks so sweet in her little pink party dress.”

“Everything looked so beautiful today! If Shir and I ever renew our vows, I want it to be just like that. Flowers, family and friends. I always thought I’d want a big church extravaganza, but this was so romantic.” Barbara said softly, smiling as she drove.

“It was just perfect for them. So nice to--wait. Slow down! Stop the car!”

“What? What’s the---oh my god!”

They both stared towards Minny’s Garden. Logan had closed for the day to allow everyone to enjoy the wedding. But someone, he could see, had been there. Someone still was. Several of the outdoor displays were overturned, and a car was parked sideways on the grounds, crushing one of the flower beds.

“Go. You and the baby, get back to Roman’s right now.” Logan said, reaching for the door handle. “Call the police as soon as you get there.”

“Don’t! Don’t go in there right now.” Barbara gave him a horrified look.

“It’s my place.” And he was already running.

A/N: Okay, here we are. This is the second to last chapter, and I'm so sorry I made you all wait this long. I hope the ending lives up to everyone's hopes. I'm sorry to say that I lost my tag list, so I apologize to everyone who was on it. :'( Also, there is no difference between this version, the Wattpad, and the Ao3 versions for this chapter and the next.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logicality #prinxiety #it's only logical #iol fic

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ruby-assassin · 4 years

Text

Galton pride

this took me a whole year to write and i’m recyling mood boards....it’s a bad time for me

Nova looked up at the float. Tomorrow was Galton’s anual pride festival, and her team got their own float. “So, it came out nice.” She said looking at the fringe on the side and the signs and posters hung on it. Ruby had hung many “protect trans kids” poster as Oscar hung small bi flags on the elevated part they’d be standing on. Dana added flag from her house that had the words “girls love girls” in pink. Adrian has drawn some good pan posters too. Novas contribution had been the huge “love always wins” sign on the back of the float. She’s decorated it each of their flags for their sexualities, she thought it looked nice. “Nice?” Oscar asked. “It’s totally sick!” He high-fived Ruby who was grinning and covered in blue and pink paint. “Can you imagine us on this tomorrow?” She said as she climbed back on to it. “I’ll be here like ‘Trans right!’ And Oscar will be over here eating cotton candy that looks like a bi flag. And Dana will sit up there being gay and loving women! And Adrian will stand there with his pen and make rainbow renegades pins. And nova will stand here,” she pointed to the center of the float. “And wave awkwardly as she does.” Oscar and Adrian laughed. Dana yelled a ‘hell yeah!’ And high-fived Ruby. “Hey, I’m not that awkward.” Nova fought with a smile on her lips. “You say that now until you see the pictures of yourself tomorrow.” Oscar laughed and held out one of the beaded necklaces in the bi flag colors to Nova. “Wear that tomorrow, for solidarity.” He said as he put his own on. She smiled and put hers on too. “Okay guys, we need to be here at seven tomorrow. So wear a nice outfit and try and include some pride items too.” Adrian said as he shooed ruby and Dana off the float. “Ruby, didn’t you say you had face paint?” Adrian asked. “Yeah! I should have all the colors we need. I might not have all Dana’s colors though.” She said sadly. “It’s alright Ruby, I have my own anyway.” Dana winked at her and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Okay well, let’s get home and rest before the main event tomorrow.” Adrian smiled at his team.

The next morning Nova showed up to the warehouse they were starting at earlier than needed. She wore a black T-shirt with a small bisexual flag colored heart where a breast pocket would be. Her hair was down as always and she wore a pair of dark denim short since it was hot. The necklace Oscar had given her was around her neck. Her combat boots made an echo in the large building as the only other people here were the council, Adrian and a couple civilians doing maintenance. Adrian waved Nova over to where he and his dads were sitting, an area with a couple chairs and a supply of donuts, coffee and waters. “Hey.” Adrian said with a smile. Nova smiled back and sat next to him. “Hi.” She smiled. “Hi Nova, how are you?” The captain asked. She turned to him, she still felt weird about everything that happened between her and the council. Sure she had tried to kill him, and sure she did hate him from the time she was a small child, but they mended everything with multiple meetings and countless crying session (all of them recorded from the captains office or the interrogation room). “Im good, I’m excited to be on the float this year. I’ve come to all of the pride parades you’ve had so far.” She tucked hair behind her ear. “It’s nice to see that you guys are not only representing the lgbtq+ community but encouraging the people in it.” This was something that’s never changed in her mind. She loved the colorful flags and the face paint and the shirts she bought herself every year, though she had to hide them from the others. Unlike Adrian’s parents, Nova’s uncle wasn’t supportive of this kind of stuff. Most of the Anarchists were like that too, leaving Nova with internal conflict and self hatred that filled her need for her Uncle’s approval. “It’s nice to hear.” Hugh said with his classic smile. Adrian swiped his hand over Nova’s and caught her attention. “Wanna go and put some finishing touches on the float?” He asked as he held up his pen. Nova nodded and stood with him. “I’ll see you out there.” Nova said to the super couple as they walked off, hearing them chuckle.

“So, you want to help me paint my face?” Adrian asked as they made it to their float. He pulled out his marker, ready to sketch out some paints. “Sure, though I’m not quite the artist you are.” Nova smiles as she hoisted herself up to sit on the float next to her boyfriend. Adrian smiled back at her as he drew the pots of paint on the different colors of fabric or tinsel that covered the wooden float underneath. “Well, I don’t think a tiny flag will be too hard.” He said as he finally drew a paint brush too. Nova took the small brush from him and dipped it in the blue paint, using her other hand to take his glasses off. “Stop smiling so much so I can paint your face, dork.” Nova said as she patted the apples of his cheeks as he smiled. “Sorry.” He said trying to be serious. “Force of habit.” Nova let out a small laugh and continued the stripes of color on his cheeks. When she was finished she nodded. “Some of my best work.” She said simply and handed the brush to Adrian. “My turn.” She said and leaned her face towards him. Adrian just laughed at her enthusiasm and drew up some purple paint. “You really are excited aren’t you?” He said as he dipped the paint brush in the first pot of paint. “I am.” Nova said, stopping when the paint bust was swiping against her tanned skin. “I’ve always loved the parade. My uncle was homophobic and it made things really weird, especially when I got a crush on a girl for the first time. I wanted to talk to him, but hsse shut down the conversation as soon as I asked ‘is it okay for two people of the same gender to be in love?’ It was scary and new and I had no one to explain.” Nova kept her eyes closed and waited for the cool sensation of the paint on her skin again but it didn’t come. When she opened her eyes Adrian was looking at her with a sad look. “Nova,” He started. “Nope. I don’t want pity. I just wanted to tell you. Some backstory, ya know.” She said and pushed hair away from her forehead. Adrian tried to look less sad as he went to paint her face again but it wasn’t working. “Stop being sad.” Nova said with determination. “No. That was a sad story.” He said and pouted extra hard. “Hmmm, will a kiss make it better?” Nova said as she leaned towards him. He perked up. “Actually,” Adrian said and smiled. Nova laughed and pressed her lips to Adrian’s. They shared a small kiss before they pulled back and Adrian continued to paint her cheeks. When Dana and Narcissa arrived they were talking about the days events and holding hands. They had started dating a while ago and Dana had invited her girlfriend to join them on the float today. She was explaining how after the parade they would all be free to enjoy the festivities and stalls the Narcissa when they arrived next to the float. “Hey.” Dana smiled and sat on the edge of the float. “Good morning.” Narcissa supplied as she leaned next to her girlfriend. “Hi!” Adrian smiled as he finished painting nova’s face. “Hey guys.” Nova said as she turned around to look at them. The group held a steady conversation even as Ruby and Oscar joined until the council stood on their own float and announced that the parade was gonna start soon so they had to get on their floats to prepare. Ruby, who was wearing a trans flag as a cape, climbed up and held her hand out to Nova with a smile. “This is gonna be so fun!” She said as Nova climbed up with her. “I ave no doubts about that.” She said as the others made their way onto the float.

The sun was hot, but Nova could barely feel it over the vast amount of happiness and excitement she felt as the floats made their way down the street. People waved and called out to them as they waved and smiled. Their float had a built in speaker and was playing various songs the council had approved. Some little kids on the sidewalks danced along as they passed, the sight making Nova smile. Ruby and her were on the middle podium, swaying and singing along to the music with smiled. Oscar was tossing out rainbow bead necklaces while Dana and Narcissa were crouched on the edge of the float talking to a girl who was walking along the sidewalk, she looked to be about 13/14 years old and seemed absolutely infatuated with the two girls holding hands. Adrian was on the back of the float, tossing out the rainbow renegades pins he’d made the night before. It was fun, Nova was having the most fun she had ever had and she was being herself while doing so. She didn’t have to hide in an alleyway and make sure no one saw her face, she didn’t have to stash away her pride wear before heading home tonight. She didn’t have to pretend anymore. Ruby grabbed both of her hands as an upbeat song started and started to scream the lyrics and jump around. She looked so happy. Nova matched her level of enthusiasm, singing along as Ruby had introduced her to the song that was playing a couple weeks prior. As the song came to a close, Oscar came to join them on the podium, making a joke about how Nova was stealing his girlfriend. Nova and Ruby both laughed, Ruby pulling Nova into a tight side embrace, squishing their cheeks together. “We’re in love, don’t even try to come between us.” Nova laughed and turned to kiss Ruby’s cheek, earning a wild giggle from ruby. Oscar pulled his girlfriend away from Nova and swatted at her like a cat. “No this ones mine, Adrian is down there, go kiss him.” HE made a pouty face as the two girls laughed at him. Nova eventually let herself down to stand with Adrian fro the last two blocks of the parade. He smiled at her as she stood next to him, a group of fan girls going wild at the sight of them together. Nova let how weird it was slip as she wasn’t ready to let it ruin her mood. The two of them smiled and waved all the people around them while talking about Adrian’s previous experiences the the parade. Nova laughed along with his stories and putting in her input where it was needed. As the float came to a stop at a street near the park where the stalls and activities were placed, the group hoped off their float and stood by the entrance, Nova’s excitement bubbled up inside her. “You look excited.” Dana smiled at her. “I’m overflowing with positive emotions.” Nova whispered. “Then lets go!” Ruby yelled, leading thier charge into the festivities.

#renegades #supernova #archenemies #nova artino #ruby tucker #adrian everhart #dana bell #nova mclain

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67-chevy-baby · 4 years

Text

Teach Me

Pairing - Dean x Reader / Eventual Cas x Reader / No Destiel

Rating - 18+ Only!!

Squares Filled - Kink Bingo: Voyeurism and Castiel Bingo: Smut

Tags - Voyeurism, Smut, Fingering (Female Receiving), Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Squirting, Finger Sucking, Masturbation, Unprotected Sex, Use of Grace, A little bit of a Threesome (NO DESTIEL in this one), Some Fluff at the end, and I think that’s it.

Word Count - 2,969

Beta - @winecatsandpizza

Fic Aesthetic - Yours truly

Written for - @spnkinkbingo and @castiel-bingo

Dean couldn’t keep Y/N quiet. Her pleasure-filled screams echoed through the halls of the bunker as he flicked his tongue rapidly over her clit, two of his skilled fingers curling inside her searching out her sweet spot. He was just glad that they were alone and didn’t have any close neighbors because he was sure the cops would have been called by now. Edging was one of his favorite things to do to her. Dean loved seeing her beg. He always thought she begged pretty.

“Oh God, please… Dean, please! Need to cum…”

Dean knew she was close. The way her needy moans became pants as her walls started to tighten around his thick digits was his key to stop. He pulled out of her, chuckling at her low whimper.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Sweetheart, I didn’t give you permission yet. You gotta be a good girl. Only good girls get what they want. Think you can do that for me?”

Y/N’s chest was heaving, and she swore the moment anything touched her throbbing clit she’d explode, but Dean always knew what she needed. Especially when she was in a submissive state like this. She felt Dean’s calloused hands slide slowly up her sides, goosebumps rising in their wake. His lips sucked at the pulse point just below her ear sending a shiver down her spine.

“D-Dean…”

His lips ghosted along the skin of her throat ever so lightly. It was getting hard for him to hold back himself, so he could only imagine how she was feeling. His fingers found her slick folds once again, her walls fluttering around nothing before he slid one into her. The action wasn’t anything near what she needed, but it was better than him not touching her at all.

Y/N began to raise her hips to meet the lazy thrust of his finger. All she needed was a little bit more, just a little more, and she’d be soaring into pure bliss. Dean’s sound of disapproval brought her back to reality, and she almost sobbed when he pulled out of her.

“Ah, Ah, Ah. Didn’t say you could move, darlin’.”

“Fuck, please… please Dean. I-I need it.”

Just as Dean was about to give in and grant the release they both needed, a flutter of wings sounded in the corner of the room. Y/N scrambled up the bed, covering herself with the sheet just as Dean threw his black t-shirt on and grabbed his pistol off the nightstand.

“Y/N? Is everything alright? I heard you calling for De-”

The familiar figure of Castiel stood clad in his usual attire looking halfway between confused and embarrassed as he took in the scene before him. His head tilted slightly before he spoke again, his attention fixed on Dean curiously.

“Dean, was it you that was causing Y/N to cry out in distress?”

Y/N watched as Dean put his hands on his hips, rolling his eyes.

“Dammit, Cas … Y/N wasn’t distressed. She was enjoyin’ herself.”

Cas’ eyes narrowed to thin slits finally realizing that they were completely naked save for Dean’s tee. He walked forward slightly, picking up Dean’s boxers for a moment before dropping them back onto the pile of clothes on the floor.

“Oh, I understand now Dean. This is how humans participate in the act of intercourse. My apologies for interrupting.”

Y/N watched as Cas awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other before looking at Dean expectantly.

“Cas? You okay, buddy? I was kinda hoping to get back to uh … well, ya know …”

Cas’ blue eyes wandered over their bare skin slowly, and Y/N didn’t miss the hint of redness that tinted his cheeks.

“Dean? I would very much like to learn how to make Y/N enjoy herself as you did. Can you teach me?”

Y/N’s gaze darted to Dean’s as he looked at her, the silent question was understood and she nodded slightly. A moment later, Dean stood from his spot at the foot of the bed and walked slowly towards his angel friend. Cas looked at him curiously as the fabric of his signature blue tie slid through the hunter’s thumb and index finger.

“Well, first things first Cas, you’re wearing too many clothes.”

He looked crestfallen at Dean, grasping the lapel of his trench coat lovingly.

“I like my clothing Dean. I don’t see why it would matter if I took all of it off or not.”

Y/N held back a laugh, shaking her head as Dean scrubbed a hand across his face.

“Cas, buddy, you gotta be naked. It’s uhh … it’s easier to …”

He sighed heavily, the annoyance thick in his tone.

“Trust me on this, Cas. Okay? It’ll make Y/N happy.”

Moments later, the ever-so-powerful angel of the Lord stood there in nothing but his white boxers. Y/N hadn’t realized just how muscular he was underneath all the layers of clothing he normally wore. His biceps were notably distinguished, his chest looked firm, and his deeply defined Adonis belt was deliciously inviting.

“I still don’t see how my lack of clothing would make Y/N feel pleasure, Dean.”

Just as Dean let out another exasperated sigh, Y/N patted the bed welcomingly and scooted over.

“C’mere Cas, let me show you what Dean means.”

The angel stole a hesitant glance at Dean, watching him nod towards the bed. Cas swallowed thickly and made his way over to where Y/N laid invitingly.

Cas watched as her delicate hand patted the thin fitted sheet. Her fingers sliding over the fabric made his pulse quicken. It wasn’t until Dean sat on the end of the bed that he came to his senses.

“Go on, Cas. You have to feel how smooth her skin is. Y/N’s got the prettiest skin doesn’t she?”

Indeed, Cas always admired how beautifully porcelain it was. He just didn’t think he would ever get this opportunity. Celestial beings weren’t supposed to participate in acts like this. Sexual desires rarely crossed his mind, mainly because it was wired into his genetic code to serve God.

Ever so slowly he extended his hand, allowing it to come to rest on Y/N’s bare hip. Not only was her skin soft, but this simple touch seemed to electrify his body. The celestial energy within him made everything more heightened. An instinct he never thought he would’ve possessed took over.

Y/N returned the gesture by stroking her fingertips along the side of his cheek. She watched as Cas closed his eyes, the initial contact making him shiver. He’d never been touched so intimately before. The sensations from it alone caused his breath to hitch, and she hadn’t even got him completely naked yet. He hadn’t even noticed Dean move to the chair in the corner until his gruff voice broke the silence in the room, egging him on.

“Yeah, buddy that’s it. Kiss her next. See if you can find the spot on her neck that drives her absolutely wild.”

Y/ N’s gaze flitted from the angel’s slightly-parted lips to his cerulean eyes. It made desire begin to pool in her abdomen seeing him like this. She’d always had feelings for Cas, but it never seemed possible that she would be able to explore those desires. His mouth descended onto her neck, kissing and sucking at her fair skin.

Y/N’s back arched into his toned chest at its own accord, his lips continuing their journey south. His ocean-colored eyes looked up through his thick lashes at her reaction to his kisses. It never occurred to him how such a small gesture could have such an effect on someone. He wanted more, needed to see Y/N come completely undone for him.

Cas marveled at her beautiful figure laid out before him. Beads of sweat collected in the valley between her breasts, her chest rising and falling as she looked down at him with want. He gracefully kissed his way back up to her bowtie lips, capturing them in a passionate caress. His tongue danced with hers expertly, the thickening of his cock evident on her upper thigh.

The moment his lips left hers a needy whine fell from her lips. Y/N looked over at Dean and felt her walls clench again. Seeing him fully naked again with his cock in his hand, hard and leaking, drove her absolutely wild. Her body began to shake again, her hands fisting the sheets.

“P-Please… I… I can’t… I need…”

Dean chuckled as Cas looked over at him with slight confusion etched in his features. He bit his lip, nodding at the angel to keep going as he slowly increased the speed of his hand on his cock.

“Dean, did I do something wrong? Y/N seems to be in distress again.”

A low moan fell from the elder Winchester’s lips. It was getting harder to focus on being a teacher when he was getting the hottest live show he’d ever seen. Eventually, he shook his head and tried desperately to form a coherent sentence.

“Nah buddy, I bet her pussy’s soaked. Just look at the way she’s breathin’. You see the way her eyes roll back in her head just from your hands and mouth touching her? That’s just the tip of the iceberg, Cas. You really wanna hear Y/N lose it, then you gotta find her sweet spot.”

Dean stood up and joined his angelic friend on the bed, carefully spreading Y/N’s legs. He showed Cas his middle and ring fingers for a moment before dipping them into the slick folds of her sex. Cas didn’t miss how her back arched off the bed or the way she whimpered. Dean didn’t keep them inside her long though. This wasn’t his show anymore, but he wasn’t upset. If he was honest with himself, teaching turned him on more than he thought it would.

“You see that? Now you try…”

Cas slid his left hand up Y/N’s thigh, his fingertips ghosting over the goosebumps on her skin. He took note of how she sucked in a breath the moment his fingers grazed her folds. Dean was right, she was very wet. Ever so slowly, he began to smooth them up and down, his cock throbbing in his boxers every time a new plea fell from her mouth.

“Is this her sweet spot, Dean?”

His hand never faltered as his blue eyes met Dean’s lust-blown ones. The hunter shook his head and bit his lip, his voice thick with arousal as he spoke.

“Not quite, Cas. I’ll help you find it though. Those two fingers you’re touchin’ her with? Push them inside her. Then, I want you to curl them upwards.”

Cas did as he was told, and the moment he curled his fingers the prettiest moan he’d ever heard filled the room like a prayer.

“Oh, Castiel!... M-More… please!”

Cas didn’t have to be told twice. Virgin or not, he could tell he’d found the spot that drove her crazy. He began to rub his fingers along the bundle inside her, his other hand rubbing his own arousal through his boxers to gain some relief. Dean praised him, egging him on as he used his thumb to draw circles around her clit.

“That’s it, Cas. Fuck... keep moving your hand like that, and she’ll cum in no time. You think we should let her? You wanna see her squirt? She tastes like Heaven.”

Cas wasn’t sure what Dean meant by that, but he loved the way Y/N’s walls squeezed around his fingers. He continued to thrust his fingers in and out, a little faster each time. His eyes went wide as he watched Dean lowered his mouth towards where his hand was.

“I’m about to show you another spot, Cas. This one’s called her clit. Y/N’s about to become putty in our hands. Ready, buddy?”

Cas nodded, licking his lips as Dean closed his mouth over Y/N. Almost instantaneously he felt her walls clamp around his fingers. He couldn’t believe he’d never experienced anything like this before. Why would his Father keep something this pleasurable hidden from his brothers and sisters for so long? A few seconds later, Cas felt something wet gush over his vessel’s hand.

“Oh, fuck! C-Cas…. Dean I… I’m gonna… Right there!... OH, FUCK!!”

Dean sat back on his heels, his chin glistening with Y/N’s juices. A smirk formed on his lips before he gestured to where Cas’ hand was.

“Good job, buddy. You know, for an angel you’re not too bad at this. Taste her, Cas. Then, I wanna see you fuck her.”

Cas did as instructed and slowly removed his fingers from Y/N’s heat. He curiously observed the way they glistened with her wetness for a moment before sucking them between his lips. His eyes fluttered closed as he tasted her. Dean was right, she was delicious and he needed more. Before he could stop himself, he settled between her quivering legs. His instincts took over and soon he was devouring her like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Sh-Shit! CAS!! Ohholyshityes… yes… YES!” So good… Oh, you’re so good! AH!”

Dean’s jaw went slack as he watched the scene play out before him. His cock jerked in his hand, and he began to stroke himself faster. The coil of his arousal tightening with each passing moment he watched Cas work Y/N over.

“Jesus, Cas… Look at you, making her a complete mess with your mouth. Fuck… yeah, make her sweet pussy cum again… C’mon, buddy… you can do it. Make her scream…”

His words gave him the fuel he needed. He closed his mouth over the same spot Dean had before and sucked. He could quickly tell that she was sensitive, so as if on queue he used his grace to hold Y/N in place while he moved his tongue in circles across her bundle of nerves.

“Ca...Cas… Cas, OhmyG-... M’gonna… Fuck, I’m gonna… CAS!!!”

He released her clit after her second orgasm calmed down and sat up next to where Dean was standing. His pupils fully engulfing the blue of his eyes. His cock was painfully hard in the confines of his boxers, so he took a moment to remove them.

“Cas, I think she’s ready for you. God, I can’t wait to see you fuck her and watch her cum with you buried inside her.”

Cas had never had something so filthy be spoken to him, but it unlocked something inside him. Something primal that needed to be sated, and it was something only Y/N could provide him. He positioned himself between her legs and pushed inside her, not stopping until his hips met hers. He heard her cry out and stopped, his eyes looking down into hers as he waited for her to adjust to him.

“Please… please, Cas… fuck me…”

The moment the words left her lips, he gave in and began a punishing pace. Dean marveled at the way Y/N looked from this angle. He knew he wasn’t going to last like this. Seeing his best friend fuck the girl he loved senseless would be his undoing. He stood there fucking himself into his hand while the most obscene noises filled his ears. It all became too much, the sound of skin slapping against skin, the stream of Enochian chants coming from Castiel, and the sound of Y/N begging for him to cum sent him over the edge. Thick ropes of his release coated her chest and neck as he gripped onto the headboard for support.

“Mmm, fuck Cas… Yeah, buddy… fuck her just like that… She feels amazing, doesn’t she? That tight pussy squeezing your cock like a vice. She’s close, I can tell.”

He leaned down close to her ear and flicked his tongue over her earlobe.

“You like when Cas fucks you, sweetheart? His cock feels good splitting you open… I can tell. You gonna cum for us? Gonna cum all over him?”

The moment Y/N’s walls fluttered around Cas he was a goner. With a guttural cry, he stilled inside her, his release filling her completely.

For a few moments, no one said anything. It was all just heavy breathing and the occasional whimper from Y/N. Dean broke the silence and ran a hand through his sweat-slicked hair before slipping back into his boxers.

“That was… wow… We gotta do that more often. He padded across the room to the door and gave the Cas and Y/N a lopsided smile. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up. You two should do the same and then we can talk about all this.”

He was gone seconds later, but before Y/N could move to get up herself, Cas shook his head. “Allow me.” With a quick snap of his fingers, they were both clean and back in their clothes. She smiled at him and threaded her fingers with his. “That was amazing, Cas. I… I don’t know what we do from here, but I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” Cas smiled and leaned down to kiss her temple. “I may be somewhat ignorant of intimate feelings, but Dean seemed pleased with what we just did together.”

The two made their way to the Bunker’s library completely sated. If you’d told Y/N a year ago that she’d be fucked into oblivion by an angel of the Lord while one of the most beautiful hunters that ever existed watched, she would have laughed. Now? Now, it was safe to say that anything can happen, and she couldn’t wait for Dean to give Cas another lesson.

Tags: @desiree-0816 @jensens-snackles @thinkwritexpress-official

#spnkinkbingo #castiel bingo #dean x reader #cas x reader #dean winchester x reader #castiel x reader #'pala writes

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wait-there-was-a-plan · 4 years

Text

𝐃•𝐎•𝐋•𝐋•𝐇•𝐎•𝐔•𝐒•𝐄

p•r•o•l•o•g•u•e

Words: 1686

Trigger Warning: Dolls, terrifying situations, missing people, kidnapping[kinda??? Could be read as such]

If I need to add more let me know, but note this is an attempt at some spooky horror

S•T•O•R•Y

It was supposed to be a joke.

Just a fun trip to a spooky shop on Halloween. It wasn’t supposed to end up like this.

Virgil had always loved the fall season. Perfect hoodie season, and of course the spooks. So when his best friend Remus suggested they get Janus and investigate a creepy looking shack that was parading as a toy shop. Janus loved the idea, but mostly cause it to let the 15-year-old sneak out of his house when it was dark. What his fascination was with sneaking away from his older sister’s care, Virgil would never know.

Virgil was of course incredibly anxious. So he left a note on his bed in case anything did happen.

Remus was standing with his hands on his hips looking extremely proud. Janus was the oldest but somehow Remus tended to take the lead. Virgil was never sure why, but he never really cared. It was just always like that. Remus would lead them all into adventure, Virgil got them out of trouble, and Janus made up any excuse they needed. They had a good thing going on. Things were always exciting with them.

Remus was spouting ideas about how to break into the small shop while Janus was telling Remus that there was absolutely no way they were using fire. Virgil was looking at the shop window as the two behind him went back and forth.

“Guys. The store is open.” The emo spoke up, pointing to an old-fashioned sign that read ‘Come in! We’re open!’ in bright colors.

The other teenagers paused and turned to look at the front of the door.

“Its midnight,” Janus said with a confused look. “What kinda toy store is open three am?”

“The Dollhouse apparently,” Virgil replied, looking up at the wooden letters above the door.

“Maybe it’s too lure in children so they can make toys out of them!” Remus chirped, all two happily. Virgil shuddered at the thought.

“Oh, that must be it.” The snake-like teen said rolling his eyes. “Are we going in or what?”

Before the others could answer Janus moved forward, opening the door and holding it open for Remus who skipped inside, but when the emo hesitated the eldest paused for a second.

“You okay?” He asked. “You don’t have to come with us. We can walk you home.”

“I’m fine,” Virgil told him with a dismissive shrug, and when the other gave him a questioning look the emo rolled his eyes. Janus was always protective of him. Remus too, but the human rat didn’t seem to ‘need’ protection as much, at least by the eldest’s standards. Thus Virgil got the most ‘babying’ from him. Not that the emo always minded. It was nice to be reminded that he didn’t need to do something, or to be assured it was fine. Still, it wasn’t always needed.

“Really. I’m fine. Let’s go.”

“Alright, if you say so.” Janus gave him a nod before going into the shop.

Virgil followed behind, looking around the shop. It was almost like stepping through a portal back in time. He didn’t know the exact time period the shop reminded him of, but it was definitely something he could imagine seeing it in a black and white photo if that made sense. Shelves lined the walls, all filled with dolls to the point quite a few of them looked ready to fall off. Everything was made out of wood that looked extremely old and strangely enough, despite the unlocked door and opened sign no one was in sight. Remus was already behind the only counter in the room messing with the old metal til.

“Remus! Quit playing with that!” Virgil told him, as Janus disapprovingly shook his head.

“Remus! You’re going to trip the alarm or something!” The snake told him. “They’ll think we’re trying to rob them.”

“I’m just looking!” The rat whined, rolling his eyes at the other’s worry. “Besides, no one’s here to see anything and this place doesn’t look like it has any alarms.”

“You don’t usually see alarms, Rem.” Janus frowned.

“If no one’s here, maybe we should go.” Virgil mumbled, mostly to himself.

Remus’s head tilted to the side a bit and he smiled mischievously at the anxious boy.

“Awwwww, Virgin.” He said. “Got a bad fweeling?”

Despite the mocking tone, Virgil knew if he really wanted to, they wouldn’t keep going, no matter how much fun Remus was having breaking into tils.

So the emo rolled his eyes.

“No. We just..came. Saw the shop. So we’re done here right?” He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Awwww, you don’t have to put on a big brave face for us! If you’re feeling like a pussy-”

“Remus.” Janus warned.

“Whoops.” The rat shrugged slightly. “My bad.”

The two mature teens sighed heavily.

“Okay, what else do you want to do here?” Virgil spoke up looking between them, earning a wicked smirk from Remus.

Oh dear.

“Let’s go back here!” He said turning and gesturing to a doorway with those hippy string bead things in place of the door. Virgil didn’t know what they were called, but he did know that the sign above the door said ‘staff only’.

Janus paused looking at Virgil, who sighed and shrugged.

“...Alright, remus. Just for a minute or two.” He told him. “Then we need to-”

Remus was already off exploring the back of the store.

“Remember, Verge.” Janus spoke up before they went in after him. “You can leave whenever you want. We won’t get mad.”

Virgil just nodded softly and followed him before Remus could break anything.

The room was much larger than the store front. With a lot more shelves and on bookcases but various doll parts and supplies substituted the books. A small desk littered with tools was in the back corner. Running along the walls about waist level there was a long shelf built into the wall, with various completed dolls that must have been waiting to be put out front and be sold. Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil could see Janus move to a large human sized doll near one corner and Remus move to the back of the room.

Virgil’s attention was caught by a completed doll. While there were many different types of dolls in the shop, porcelain, wooden, a few marinate dolls and barbies here or there, this was seemingly the only stuffed one. Or at least the only stuffed one Virgil could see. It had yellow yarn for hair and two blue beads for eyes. A small sweater around it’s blue shirt while the bottom of the doll was just black to infer it was wearing pants.

The emo picked it up looking at the eyes. Why this one had caught his attention, Virgil wasn’t even sure. He normally liked the gothic things, and this was for sure not gothic. It looked like something you would give a three year old. Though, there was just something unnerving about them, like the doll was watching him somehow. Which was just absolutely crazy. Dolls couldn’t watch him. Dolls couldn’t watch anything!

“You’re kind of a creepy fucker, aren’t ya?” He asked with a nervous chuckle. Why was he talking to the doll? And why was the watching feeling replaced with disappointment? Was the teen going crazy?

Virgil swallowed his own spit, setting down the doll.

“Ooooookkaaay.” He mumbled. “That’s enough dolls for me. Hey, Rem-”

Just as the emo started to say his name, Remus let out a scream worthy to be in horror movies.

Virgil turned around quickly seeing the human rat holding onto one of the sculpting tools that was laying on the desk, very tightly from the looks of it. But it was hard to tell with a bright light coming from the desk. Remus’s screams got louder and more horrified as his hand seemed to shrink and start wrinkling. It became stiff and shrank slightly, cracking before smoothing out into a pale color that could only look real on a doll-

Wait, no…

His hands were turning into glass!

Virgil froze. Janus ran over to their screaming friend trying to pull him away from the light before it just got brighter and suddenly Janus was starting to scream too.

The emo didn’t know what to do, the only thing running through his head was his friends’ terror and pain filled screams. It was only when something wrapped it’s hands around Virgil’s arm did he realize he needed to move. He spun to see who had grabbed him, horrified to find nothing but dolls there, one with its hand somehow holding onto his sleeve. He stepped back, feeling his chest grow tight, and his breathing quicken.

“VIRGIL-”

Janus’ scream made him turn again, this time met with the large doll the screaming friend had been looking at before right in front of him. Virgil looked past him, locking eyes with Janus, where Remus was he wasn’t sure anymore. The teen couldn’t be seen anymore. But Janus...Janus looked terrified. The emo had never seen him so scared.

Virgil could hear another scream leave his remaining friends, words,but he couldn’t make them out. The next thing Virgil even knew was he was running through the shop, hearing loud heavy footsteps behind him.

The teen literally jumped out of the building, landing on the pavement hard. He turned himself over, scurrying back as he looked at the giant doll in the doorway. Frozen. Just staring at Virgil.

Virgil didn’t really remember making his way home. But he woke the next day to his mom waking him up for school. So he went, hoping it was just a dream.

But when he got to school, Janus and Remus weren’t there. They weren’t there the next day.

The last time Virgil saw their faces was on the news as the news anchor talked about two missing kids, and asked anyone with any information to please speak up and go to their families or the authorities.

Virgil never did.

…….

And he never will.

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harrieatthemet · 6 years

Text

Holiday: Ch. 10

A/N: holy fuck you guys, this chapter has opened the door for the most drama chapters ever. Next chapter......just.... holy fuck.

I couldn’t breath. My sides were hurting, and I nearly spit out the iced tea that had been swirling around in mouth. Chelsea sat across from me, eyes wide as she howled and hollered at what Tess had just said. The table was practically shaking, glasses clanking against the coffee table as Cori slammed her hands down while trying to catch her breath. Tess rolled her eyes, tucking a piece of her white blond hair behind her ear. I swear I thought I was going to choke, dumbfounded and in hysterics as the worlds fell from Tess’ mouth.

“I swear to God, you guys,” Tess stated, “actual anal beads! And he had the nerve to ask why I never called him back.”

“Where do you find these guys?” Cori snorted, sipping her water to try and calm down.

Tess just shrugged, shaking her head in disbelief before throwing her hands up in defeat. This was a Friday afternoon tradition for us. Everyone would come by for a few hours during the day, just to lounge around and gossip on my patio. Cori, Tess, and Chelsea had been my friends for as long as I could remember. They were the only close friends I had here in LA, and had moved out here just before I did. We had grown up together back home in New York, and were the biggest menaces throughout our entire childhood. Tess had always been the mischievous one, always a little sexually promiscuous and free spirited. She’d always done her own thing, marched to the beat of her own drum. It made the rest of us look forward to the colorful stories she’d have each week, some new guy and some weird bedroom experience. It made Cori get chills, since she was so reserved and shy when it came to just about anything. When Tess would get to telling her stories, she’d just laugh along and play with a piece of her dark brown hair. Chelsea lived for it, and lived vicariously through Tess, much like I did.

“Anything new going on with you, Ell?” Chelsea asked curiously, hand on her belly as she sipped at her lemonade.

“No,” I lied, “nothing really. Well nothing interesting, I mean.”

Tess arched her eyebrow, keeping her comments to herself as she shoveled a mini muffin into her mouth. The yard was quiet, a few birds chirping here and there while the soft lull of the wind blew my hair around. I had a feeling as to what they were getting at, but I didn’t want to say anything. Not yet, anyways.

Though my friends loved me, and had always supported the things I’ve gotten into, it was safe to say they really were not the biggest Harry fans. As our divorce crept up on us, they all saw firsthand how difficult it was for me. And after the divorce, they found themselves picking up the pieces. Chelsea, out of all three girls, couldn’t stand him the most. When he left, when he moved out, she had stayed with me a few weeks just to as a helping hand and to keep the kids on a schedule.

I was quick to change the subject, chattering about anything except me. Cori was filling us in on her engagement, gushing about the wedding ideas she had and telling me she wanted Penelope as the flower girl. I swirled my tea around in my cup, listening sweetly as I watched my ice cubes clank against the sides of the glass. And as I divulged in Cori’s conversation, I hadn’t even heard the glass doors off the side of the back porch open.

I didn’t even hear the sound of boots clicking against the stone, or the whistling coming from behind me. Quinn’s incoherent screeching could be heard, even from out here on the patio. With my back facing the door, I crossed my legs and furrowed my brows as Cori slowly came to a halt on her extravagant wedding plans. Chelsea subtly rolled her eyes, and Tess muttered something under her breath and she went back to sipping her drink. It wasn’t until I felt a hand rest on my shoulder that I realized what had stalled our previously exuberant conversation.

It was Harry, standing behind me with a dopey smile. His white blouse was buttoned halfway, his butterfly on full display as his cross necklace hung loosely around his neck. I gnawed at my lip, very anxiously, as I studied the expressions each one of my friends had painted on their faces. It was the first time any of them had seen Harry here, in my home, in well over a year. I was sure that the contact, his hand resting on my shoulder and fingers grazing the side of my neck, was making them uneasy and caught off guard. Harry was really clueless as to how the three of them felt about him, which made m feel a little bad. Though I was sure he knew Chelsea wasn’t a fan, as she wasn’t very good at masking her feelings and typically blurted out whatever she was thinking.

“Lovely to see you lot! Been a good while, hasn’t it?” He chirped happily, fingers twirling around a loose wave of hair at the back of my neck.

“Sure has.” Cori marveled, cocking a brow at him rudely, which earned a swift kick from me beneath the table.

“Kids’re inside, love. Quinnie’s out like a light, put him on the couch in the playroom.” He murmured, ear hovering just above my ear.

“Thank you for grabbing them at school, sure they loved that.” I smiled sweetly, shifting in my seat as I received a death stare from Tess.

“Chelsea!” Harry exclaimed, smile wide, “congratulations on th’baby! Well into the third trimester, I see.”

“Yep.” She popped the p, resting her hand at the peak of her swollen belly.

“Hm,” Harry observed, “ ‘nd I see yeh not m’biggest fan, still. S’alright.”

“Har could you, uh-” I titled my neck and Harry’s fingers recoiled, my eyes meeting his before he smiled, “just, go in and make sure Penelope hasn’t gotten into any of my fabric samples?”

“Course,” his ring finger glided discreetly into the collar of my shirt, toying with my bra strap teasingly, “still on for dinner tonight, yeah?”

“Mhm.” I hummed, swallowing the lump in my throat as Cori’s eyes widened.

Harry nodded pleasantly, retrieving his hand from my shirt before stuffing it in his pocket. His free hand brought itself to the top of my head, giving it a playful pat before saying his goodbyes to the women sitting around my patio table. As he traipsed back into the house, shutting the glass doors behind him, the suffocating silence that was lingering was weighing down on me. All three of them were staring at me, as I went to sip at my iced tea awkwardly. I shifted in my seat again, awaiting the scolding I was about to receive for keeping my rekindling romance a hushed secret.

“Still on for dinner?” Chelsea reiterated, eyebrow raised.

“Oh I fucking knew it.” Tess snickered, sitting back in her seat.

“Sure there wasn’t anything you forgot to mention?” Cori chimed in, eyebrows raised as well while she waited for me to come up with an answer.

“Okay,” I shrugged innocently, “so maybe we’re together again, just y’know, trying it out. Seeing what happens, maybe. Told you it wasn’t anything interesting, and it’s not.”

“And I TOLD YOU! Knew I was right! I told you, Tess. Didn’t I tell you?” Cori exclaimed proudly, slapping Tess on the arm and eliciting a hiss from her.

“What do you mean? I haven’t even told anyone yet, except my parents. Well, Molly too.” The nervous feeling in my stomach had started up again, worried that Harry had blabbed without running it by me first.

“I saw that picture of you two,” Cori started, “picking up the kids at school. Knew you two were up to something, ‘cus you were all smiley. Know ya get smiley like that after a reeeaaal good fuck.”

“Oh shut up.” I laughed, smirking shyly before hurling a pretzel at her from across the table.

“Look at ‘er! She’s blushing!” Tess teased, nudging an unamused Chelsea on the arm.

“You know how I feel about him, Ella.” Chelsea cautioned, setting the conversation from playful to serious.

“It’s not- he’s different, I promise.” I assured.

“I’m just telling you, be careful. That’s all.” She answered flatly, adjusting the button on her sweater.

“Alright,” I acknowledged, standing up from my seat, “I’ve got a date to get ready for, so you guys should probably head out.”

Tess and Cori ooo’ed teasingly, scuffing the chairs up against the stone of the patio as they pushed themselves out from the table. Chelsea was quiet, just another hint for me to know she disapproved. The trio collected their things, swinging their purses onto their arms before heading towards the back door in a gaggle. I followed behind them, closing the doors behind me before peeking in the playroom to check on Quinn.

As they all approached the door, Penelope making an appearance in a fancy dress (angling for compliments, her favorite thing to do when we had guests), I bid my goodbyes as Tess and Cori slithered into their cars. Chelsea hung back, only briefly, and peppered Penelope’s face with a few kisses before sending her off to play somewhere else. Shimmying her coat on, after grabbing it from the coat closet by the front door, she stood in the doorway and gave me a look. With my arm resting up against the door and my body weight depending all on one leg, I waited for her to lecture me about my decision to get involved with Harry again.

“Just say it.” I closed my eyes for a minute, preparing myself for to scold me.

“Nice seeing you this happy, really.” She complimented, genuine smile, “Just, want you to be careful, okay?”

I nodded in agreement, leaning in to kiss her cheek to bid her farewell. Then I leaned down, placing a little peck to her protruding bump. She smiled, waving and shouting a goodbye into the house in hopes the kids would here. Once her feet stepped off the front porch, I swiftly shut the door before going full speed up the steps.

It’s not like Harry hadn’t ever taken me out before. He’s taken me a million places, like restaurants and even red carpet events. So why my stomach was fluttering and I was getting so fidgety and nervous was unbeknownst to me. Taking me out tonight, bringing our relationship to that next step (sort of?) by going out where everyone could see us and take pictures, made it official. It was like the final seal, the big confirmation that I’m sure people were looking for.

I had spent what felt like hours rummaging for a dress appropriate enough for the occasion, wanting to look appropriate enough to be photographed but sexy enough to get Harry’s attention. Though I’m sure there was no point in spending so much time in picking an outfit, as he’d probably rip it somehow trying to get it off me later.

“Ooooo pretty.” Penelope gawked from the doorway of my bedroom.

“Like it, Pippy?” I smiled, slipping in a diamond earring quickly.

Penelope nodded vigorously, adding that she liked how the back of my fitted red dress was completely opened. I ran my hands over the satin fabric, stopping just above the slit that exposed most of my right leg. She stared at my nude strappy heels, and I knew that she’d start playing dress up with them as the opportunity presented itself. I had heard the doorbell ring as I finished curling my hair, and Penelope went barreling down the steps and towards the front door. I could hear Harry’s voice, a soft murmur from where I was upstairs, as he greeted the three kids again before bidding a hello to the babysitter.

“Y’almost ready, love?” Harry bellowed, voice traveling up to the second floor.

“Coming!” I answered, standing myself in front of the mirror in my closet.

I took a deep breath in, double checking to make sure I still liked the way I looked in the dress I’d picked put. Turning a few times, I analyzed my body from each angle, running my hand over the sides and smoothing out any folds or creases. I stared at myself, long and hard, before flipping the light switch off and heading down towards the staircase.

My shoes clicked, with each step, and as I neared the landing I could see him off in the corner of the foyer. His arm was crossesd against his chest, his back to me as he held the phone to his ear. The way he was standing, body tense and stiff, let me know he was in the middle of a frustrating phone call.

“Need yeh t’stop fucking calling- no mean it-”

“Har?” I interrupted, shifting awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs.

He was quick to end the phone call, slipping his phone into his pocket before twirling around to face me. His lips parted into a little o, his eyes trailing from the top of my body all the way down to my shoes. Chewing back on his lips, he rubbed his hands together, before throwing one through his hair slowly.

“S’one bloody dress.” He mused, striding over to where I was standing so he touch me.

“Looks good? Not too much?” I questioned nervously, looking at him as he stood in front of me.

“Mmmm,” he moaned, hands settling on my hips as he tugged me into him, “just enough. Wanna rip it off yeh right now.”

“Kiss!” Quinn chanted, appearing from out of the kitchen.

Harry laughed, knowing he was aching to kiss me, but not on my lips. I pulled back from Harry’s grip, sticking my tongue out at my snickering two year old as he hung onto Harry’s leg. The babysitter came teetering in, smiling as she reminded Quinn they were playing hide and seek with Penelope. Chloe was just barely 17, but Harry and I always used her to babysit the kids. She was the daughter of one of Harry’s friends, and we both knew we could feel comfortable leaving the kids with someone who’d respect our privacy.

“Mummy and I are gonna get going, buddy. S’that alright? Can yeh let go o’ me?” Harry cooed, bending down to pry Quinn off his shin.

Quinn, sad for a moment that we’d be leaving, was coaxed back into a playful state once Chloe had bribed him with some ice cream. After the word chocolate left her mouth, he went teetering off as if Harry and I had already left, making me chuckle to myself.

I gave Chloe the low down, filling her in on bedtime and the nighttime routine. She nodded accordingly, understanding the directions clearly before getting dragged to the playroom by Penelope. It wasn’t until Harry and I heard the door slam to the playroom, Penelope’s playful squeals followed by Brayden’s shushing, that me and Harry decided to actually leave.

I was eager to see where we’d end up, my eyes studying the scenery as he flew down the parkway towards downtown LA. His car smelled just like him, the overwhelming scent of peppermint making my stomach settle down. The radio was low toned, just barely audible as him and I engaged in pointless banter. I wondered if he was nervous too, like I was. It wasn’t our first date, obviously. But it sort of felt like it, to me, anyways. We were starting fresh, and though I had repeatedly told myself to suppress any and all expectations, I was hopeful that this time we’d work.

“Sushi!” Harry cheered, pulling up into a spot in front of a beautifully decorated Japanese restaurant.

“Oh I love sushi.” I groaned excitedly, my stomach growling.

He wiggled his eyebrows, slithering out of the drivers side before scurrying over to my side. The street was lively, loads of people strolling around and stalling in front of the the stores and restaurants next to the Japanese place. Harry was unbothered, his overall demeanor very calm and chill. Gaggles of crowds never seemed to bother him. All he’d do was snap a quick photo occasionally, and always sent a few kisses or a wave. Maybe both. I was shy, always had been. I tended to shy away from the attention, as the swarms of people made me a little anxious.

Nobody really noticed us at first. With his hand on the small of my back, he smiled at the couple of people who’d noticed him. Cameras were out already, and I could see them from afar as Harry ushered me into the place.

It was a fancy little place. I enjoyed how they had the little lanterns hanging from the ceiling, how they kept the place dimly lit. The lull of music was nice, and evenly meshed with the conversations being had throughout the restaurant. Harry, in his dressy collard white button down, stuffed his hand in his black trousers as he approached the waiters stand. He greeted the man, almost as if they were good friends, shaking his hand before giving him a hug-like sort of thing. I don’t really know what it was, and I just stood shyly alongside Harry. I met the gaze of a few people once or twice, smiling awkwardly as Harry chatted up the hostess.

“Got us a table in th’back. Tha’s alright?” He roped an arm around my waist, pulling me in so he could tell me in my ear.

“Yeah, s’fine.” I answered, blushing as a few people pointed discreetly.

The little Japanese man was kind, complimenting my outfit before inviting us to follow. He weaved in out of tables, dodging waiters here and there, as Harry and I followed. He had intertwined my hand with his, tugging me along as he’d send a polite wave to a few fans that were eager to see him. I had forgotten how weird this was, being out with him. I mean, sure, I’d get a little attention when I was out with one of the kids, but not like this. As strange as it was for me, it was a little nostalgic. It sort of felt like our first date, all those years ago.

“Enjoy” the hostess smiled, extending an arm to the little table cooped up in the back corner.

“Thank you.” Harry sent him one of those charming smiles, one where his dimples were prominent and his eyes lit up.

He settled into the seat across from mine, pretending to flip through the menu even though he’d probably order a California roll like he always did when it came to sushi. He watched me as I talked, my mouth moving a mile a minute. But he didn’t mind. He just sat there, elbows on the table as he rest his chin in the palm of his hand, eyes locked into my lips. It was always something he did, even when we weren’t together. When I talked to him, he’d always look at my lips instead of making eye contact. It was a little quirky, but I always found it to be kind of cute.

“Y’mean t’tell me,” he chuckled, “yeh really didn’t date anyone after me?”

“Swear to God,” I laughed, taking a sip of my wine, “not a soul.”

“No,” He shook his head mockingly, “s’no way! Fuckin look at yeh! Not even, like, y’know-”

“Like what?” I raised my eyebrows, smirking as I waited for him to ask the question I know he’s been wondering.

“Cmon, y’know, like- an itch that needed to be scratched? Right? Get wha’ I mean?”

“Don’t think I do.” I teased.

“Sex!” He responded, voice hushed, “no sex fo’ like, wha’ was it? Year ’n a half?”

“Nope.” I popped the p, as he stared at me in disbelief.

“Really don’t believe yeh, ‘cus jus’ looking at yeh right now I’m-“

“Harry?”

Harry’s eyes squinted as someone from the front of the place called out his name, trying to put a face to the voice. It had obviously been a woman, and I turned my body in my seat to try and see if I could figure out who. It didn’t take me long, as I could see a girl come eagerly sauntering towards our table. She had on these black jeans, with rips etched up in down her legs that seemed to never end. Her top was low cut, a straight V right down the middle. It was so low that the closer she got the more uncomfortable I started to feel. With thick, pin straight black hair that ran down to her lower back, it framed her face just enough to make it hard for me to guess her age in the dim lighting. All the makeup caked on didn’t really help much either. Once she stood herself just behind my seat, I could tell that she was just barely 21. If that, she could have very well been younger. Harry took a sharp breath in, front teeth nibbling away at his bottom lip before he awkwardly shifted himself in his seat. She was bubbly, all bouncy and excited as she stood behind me. And all that perfume, a strong vanilla scent, it was smothering me. I don’t if she genuinely didn’t see me sitting at the table with him, or if she just chose to disregard me.

“Izzy,” He breathed hastily, “lovely t’see you.”

“Really been a while,” her voice was squeaky, and it was annoying me how she was acting as though I wasn’t even there, “what’ve you been up to? Being good I hope, tried calling but-.”

“Izzy, this is Ella.” Harry spoke up, my neck swiveling and looking up at her.

“Like, ex-wife Ella?” She answered, not even bothering to look at me.

“Yeah well,” I interjected, “we’re actually on a date, you kind of interrupted.”

“A date?” She reiterated, slowly.

“Yeah, mind letting us finish up our meal?” Harry coughed politely, adjusting his cross necklace.

“Oh, sure, yeah. Good t’see you.” Her voice was soft as she wandered off, disappearing into the crowd of faces.

I stuffed a piece of sushi in my mouth out of annoyance, and I needed something to keep me from making a smart ass comment. Though I wasn’t 100% sure, and it wasn’t really my place to be mad, I had just ran into either an ex girlfriend or an ex-fuck. I couldn’t be sure which it was, not that it really made a difference to me anyways. It was obvious that Harry was uncomfortable, being ambushed almost at probably one of the worst times possible. I wrestled with my thoughts for a moment as I chewed my food, trying to decide if I should just brush off the encounter or say something about it.

“Awkward.” Harry sang jokingly, finishing up the last of his sushi.

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salamoonder · 5 years

Text

Words Fail

All those long nights are finally getting to Logan. (Sanders Sides)

Wordcount: 2.6k

Warnings: Semi graphic self harm

A/N: I don't recommend reading this if you're in a bad headspace. Yes, there's self harm, and it's not terribly graphic, but I did go into quite a lot of detail about Logan's emotional state. This is the first and probably the only songfic I will ever write. Also!! sidenote, this takes place in an established platonic LAMP universe.

|| Read it on AO3 ||

There’s no dramatic inciting incident. Nothing huge that pushes him over the edge; no screaming match or offhanded, deep-stinging insult. No failure.

It’s just late, and he’s just tired, and when he goes to get up his wrist catches against the sharp edge of his spiral bound notebook and it breaks the skin. He turns his hand so the blood wells up and doesn’t drip, walks to the bathroom, rinses the cut, swipes over it with an antiseptic, and bandages it.

Then he returns to his room and conjures a knife.

His hands are shaking. He lays the knife on his bed and runs a finger over the bandaid on his left hand. It’s weird. He’s read about this. He’s clinically familiar, keeps an eye on Virgil to make sure he doesn’t flinch when people brush against his arms, that he’s not scared of rolling his sleeves up. But he’s beginning to understand that there’s quite a big difference between reading something and practical knowledge.

There’s a surprising sort of relief in what remains of the pain in his wrist. He knows a flood of chemicals went straight to his brain, dopamine among them. It’s odd that knowing something and experiencing it would be so different.

He should be horrified at himself. Absolutely disgusted.

Instead, all he feels is the numb tiredness of his third three AM study session in a row. The gently aching void in his chest where the ping of caffeine should be. The softness of his sheets, the warmth of the room.

None of those are real emotions.

He smooths his thumb over the bandaid again and he feels it. A tiny jolt of pain. An even smaller jolt of pleasure. And underneath that, mind blowing relief. Again. He presses harder.

But it isn’t enough. The pain goes away after a moment, and then it’s just vaguely unpleasant pressure.

Logan locks the door of his room and strips down to his boxers.

He knows, looking back, that he didn’t do much that first night. Not in comparison. But it felt like a lot, watching the blood bead along each slash mark on either of his thighs, trailing the knife a little further to make them symmetrical. He was exhausted and high on a feeling he’d never experienced before. Not quite pleasure, not quite pain. Something like a shot of adrenaline mixed with fear and a deep, strange contentedness that was almost satisfaction.

Two neat, perfect lines. He didn’t go any further that night. He felt overly sensitive, like someone had scraped off a layer of skin and left him open to contagious emotions.

Well. He supposed someone had.

Logan summons the energy to clean and bandage these new cuts and then climbs into bed. He lays flat on his back, turns out the lamp, and tries not to strain his eyes looking for the ceiling. But he can’t help it. He doesn’t like sleeping on his back; it makes him feel vulnerable. He usually sleeps on his stomach or curled up on his side, but he doesn’t want to reopen the cuts on his thighs.

It takes him a good half hour to fall asleep, and when he finally does he has nightmares. Something’s chasing him, and he’s tearing through the dark with his hands outstretched, trying to clear away the cobwebs in front of him. He’s running down a long hallway that swirls and bends with colors that make his head pound. The something has loud footsteps that sound faintly of Danse Macabre each time they hit the ground. Snippets of sound. Snippets of the clarinet solo and dancing strings and the colors hammering into his head like what he imagines an acid trip must be like, and it’s all crashing over him like a tidal wave and he can’t have a panic attack in a dream, can he?

“Logan?”

He sits bolt upright, grabs at the sheets to be sure they’re covering his legs. Patton’s hovering in his doorway wearing an absolutely heartbreaking look of concern. “I’m fine,” he says without prompting. “Merely a nightmare.”

“I heard you yell,” says Patton slowly, inching the door further open. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

“No-” says Logan too quickly. “No, I’m fine.” He doesn’t add anything else so that Patton can’t make an objection about it really being no trouble.

“Alright…” says Patton, frowning at him and not moving. “Yell if you need me.”

“Will do.” Logan fumbles for his laptop to switch on his sleep playlist and waits for Patton to leave. He does, reluctantly, letting the door click softly closed behind him.

It’s essentially all over after that.

Every night after dinner Logan slips into his room and reopens perfect, symmetrical cuts along his thighs. They have to be even. If they're not, he lengthens one or the other until they match. It fascinates him to watch the skin peel away from itself, like he's coming apart in slow motion. It doesn't even hurt anymore.

He’s rationalized it a thousand different ways, because that’s what he does. He rationalizes. He reasons. That’s his damn job. He’s not causing any permanent damage, it’s not affecting his brain the way acid or crack would. He knows it’s addictive but that only means that he trails the knife further down his leg, waits a couple days, and then returns to a spot higher up, waiting for the first cuts to heal. Over and over. Straight, thick red lines. Symmetrical. Calming.

He doesn’t realize how distant he’s become. He doesn’t need anything from the other sides; his first solution is a closed door and a knife. It’s more efficient. Efficient is what he does. Not needing anybody is part of him, and he believes the other sides know that.

So when he opens his door in the middle of the night and hears a surprised squeak along with the soft thump of wood hitting flesh, the first thing he wonders is where he went wrong. How did he give himself away?

More importantly, how does he cover now?

It’s too late, though, Virgil’s already standing up and rubbing his back, a snarl half locked onto his face. “Watch it, Logan.”

“I- wh- Virgil, what are you doing up? Outside my bedroom? Wh- what?”

He’s trying to back away but Virgil’s eyes have already swept downwards and raked over each even line stacked along Logan’s legs. “Jesus, Logan. I...wow. I knew something was wrong, but.” He stops, whatever snarky thing he was going to say dying on his lips.

“It’s nothing,” says Logan, with no options left but to lie spectacularly. “Goodnight.” He starts to close the door but Virgil’s already jammed his body into the doorway.

“Logan,” he says. “Stop. Lemme in. Let me help.”

Logan frowns. “Help with what?”

Virgil’s mouth falls open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Before Logan can continue the charade, Virgil’s closed the door behind them both and turned to face Logan fully. “Look, man, I get it, denial and pretending to be fine is like, a recreational sport with you. But would you just- just slow down for five seconds and let someone else in before you do something you’ll seriously regret?”

Logan falls backward onto his bed, resigning himself to Virgil, and bites his lip. “I…” he takes a deep breath. “I can handle it.”

“Bullshit,” says Virgil swiftly. He clicks the lock on the door on and sits next to Logan on the bed. “You’ve been sneaking out of your room in the dead of night for weeks.”

Logan startles. “How do you-?”

“Logan, I’m friggin anxiety. If something’s wrong, if anything in this whole place is the slightest bit off, I’m gonna notice it. And this-” he waves a hand vaguely at Logan, seemingly unwilling to gesture directly at the cuts, “is very, very, off.” He glances down, then looks back up quickly to face Logan. “At least you’re sanitary. You are taking care of it, right? That’s why you’re sneaking out?”

Logan huffs out a breath. “Getting an infection doesn’t exactly seem fun or productive.”

“This isn’t fun or productive either! Logan, how the fuck are you so smart and so short sighted?” Virgil’s gritting his teeth. He looks like he might be on the verge of a panic attack, so Logan stands up, just to have some semblance of control over the situation. He doesn’t need taking care of. He needs Virgil to not be distressed over something so insignificant as Logan’s emotional health. He tries to ignore the outburst, moves toward the door. “I’ll take care of it,” he says, trying to diffuse. Virgil looks ready to vibrate into pieces.

“I’m coming,” he says, standing up as Logan opens the door and trailing him to the bathroom. Logan doesn’t protest. He figures allowing Virgil to see him taking care of himself will get him off his case.

He goes to get bandages out of the cupboard but Virgil lays a hand on top of his. “Let me.”

“Virgil-” Logan starts, frustrated, but Virgil’s already shaking his head. “It’ll calm me down. Please.”

“I...I suppose.”

“Great. Sit on the counter.”

Logan does as he’s told and stares at the wall, jaw clenched. Virgil runs the water, dipping a finger in to check the temperature every few seconds. He dampens a cloth and starts cleaning the cuts furthest down Logan’s legs.

A few moments pass in silence and Logan thinks maybe he’s escaped Virgil’s lecture. Of course that’s the moment Virgil chooses to start speaking.

“Logan...how could you possibly think this was a good idea?”

“I didn’t exactly-”

“No. Stop. Let me finish. You’re…” Virgil pauses to put down the cloth and press the backs of his hands into his eyes. “Logan, you’re kind of perfect,” he says softly. “And I don’t understand why you of all people would want to hurt yourself.”

Logan raises an eyebrow. “But you can understand how...other people…would?”

“That’s different,” he mumbles, and moves one shaky hand from his eye to pick up the cloth again. “We’re not talking about me right now. We’re talking about you.”

“I’m far from perfect,” says Logan. Virgil snorts. “Yeah, well. Either way you’re too smart for this.”

Logan doesn’t have an answer to that. They pass a few more moments in silence, and Virgil moves on to his left leg.

“I’m just wondering why,” says Virgil, almost conversationally. “If I knew why I could help. Maybe. I don’t know.”

Logan opens his mouth to respond, and all the carefully constructed reasoning he’s done over the past few weeks falls away.

Why does he do it? Because it takes the edge off every unrewarding night of work. Because sometimes the tension building beneath his skin is so venomous that he needs to let it bleed out. Because the others don’t understand what it’s like to push and push and push yourself beyond what you’re capable of...and then keep going further. Because it’s hard, it’s punishing, to be the “perfect” one. No errors, ever.

Because there’s nothing else to do.

But he can’t say that out loud.

“Lo?” Virgil asks softly. “This is gonna sting.” He’s holding the folded tip of a second cloth over the mouth of a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He turns the bottle over once, quickly, and sets it back on the counter. “Logan. You okay?”

Logan lets out a shaky sigh and reaches out to grip the edge of the counter. “I’m fine. Go ahead.”

Virgil bites his lip, then takes Logan’s hand from the counter and laces their fingers together. “Okay.”

It does sting, and more than once Logan finds himself tightening his grip on Virgil’s hand. Virgil rubs slow, soothing circles over the back of his hand with his thumb, and Logan wonders how someone who is literally the embodiment of anxiety can be such a comforting presence.

When Logan’s legs are completely bandaged, Virgil doesn’t let go of his hand. Instead, he tugs him off the counter, and they both wander back to Logan’s room and collapse on the floor.

“Talk to me?” asks Virgil tentatively. He’s leaning against Logan’s bed, and Logan has his head on his shoulder, trying to pretend that this is just another cuddle pile, just another movie night. He shakes his head, frustrated.

“Please?” whines Virgil.

“I don’t know how,” says Logan, and it comes out harsher than he meant it to.

“Logan, you’re a walking encyclopedia. How do you not know how.”

“Virgil, I’ve never had to deal with this before! There’s no precedent! And the more I research it- every time I see the word ‘blade’ or ‘dopamine’ or ‘skin’ I just want to do it all over again. I-” Logan stops, turns his face into the fabric of Virgil’s hoodie. “I honestly don’t know what to tell you,” he mumbles, his voice muffled.

Virgil’s curled an arm around his shoulder, gathering Logan to him. “You’re okay,” he says, like he’s talking to a child who’s fallen and skinned their knee at a playground. “You’re okay. It’s okay. Everything’s...it’s gonna be okay. I’ll figure this out. We’ll figure this out. Hey. You like music, right?”

Logan shrugs, trying to stay within Virgil’s grasp. “I guess. Not like Roman does.”

“You don’t have to like it like Roman does,” Virgil says gently. “I was just thinking. Why don’t you pick a song that you can empathize with? I dunno, might be a bit easier than using your own words.”

Logan looks up. “I- that’s- that’s actually not a bad idea.”

Virgil smiles. “You’re not the only side who can think, you know.”

“I never said I was,” Logan says indignantly, and pulls his laptop down from his bed to scroll through his iTunes library. It’s mostly instrumentals, classical music and movie soundtracks. Nothing catches his eye. Then- wait. Oh.

Logan hesitates for a moment, lets his mouse hover over the title. If anything it hits a little too close to home. “Promise you won’t make fun of me?” he asks Virgil, whose response is to hook his arms under Logan’s and pull him into his lap.

“For something like this? Never.”

Logan takes a deep breath and clicks play.

Ben Platt’s soft voice blankets the room, and Virgil’s eyes widen a bit. “Oh,” he says. “Oh. Logan.”

Logan shrugs again, almost embarrassed. The song is “Words Fail” from Dear Evan Hansen. And while the circumstances are quite different, Logan feels that the title, at least, is fitting.

They get to the line “I’d rather pretend I’m something better than these broken parts” and Virgil hugs Logan’s head to his chest.

He waits till the song ends. Then he says, “Logan, you know you don’t have to put up a front for us. That’s stupid. We love you. You know that.”

“I-” Logan swipes at his eyes. “Yeah.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“Say it back, you idiot.”

Logan laughs through a sob. “I love you too.”

“Good.” Virgil hauls Logan up by the arms and throws back the covers on his bed. “Want me to stay with you tonight?”

“Is it going to make you feel like I’m safe?”

Virgil shrugs sheepishly. “Um. Yeah.”

“Then of course.”

Logan folds himself into Virgil’s body, and Virgil reaches out and turns off the lamp.

“Promise me you’ll come to me and let me know if you ever feel like doing that. Or Patton or Roman.”

“I…”

Virgil sighs unhappily. “At least come to one of us afterwards?”

“I’ll try to do something before it gets that bad, Virgil. But I promise either way I’ll get one of you afterwards.”

Virgil squeezes him so tight he can’t breath for a minute. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Logan pauses. “I was going to say ‘I know’ but- is this one of those instances where I’m supposed to say it back?”

Virgil laughs. “Oh, Logan, you’re an idiot. You can, if you want.”

Logan wrinkles his nose. “I’m not an idiot. And I don’t want you to get hurt either.”

“I know you’re not an idiot. Goodnight.”

Logan snuggles into Virgil’s collarbone. “Goodnight.”

#logan #virgil #sanders sides #thomas sanders #mine #tw: self harm

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evilsquirrel18 · 6 years

Text

@tragedypoetry wrote this and sent it to me it is so beautiful I had to post it! I reposted it so that I could tag you in it. For some reason it only gave me the post option and wouldn't allow me to tag you. This is beautiful work!!

The corner of my eye let me witness the last red guard swirled his weapon towards her. Though my vision became hazy, my ears were perfectly in tune to her every move, the every whish of her lightsaber. With a precise swipe, he sliced open her forearm, creating a deep and intense gash. She screamed a sound so piercing, I felt it resonate in the depths of my stomach.

She turned to her head to see me, and she must have noticed the pooling crimson that surrounded me. I heard her heartbeat accelerate with rage and in a blink, that vulnerable red guard was on the ground, in a state I would be in soon. She ran over to me and cradled my head in her hands. “Ben, we have to get you out of here. Onto the Falcon, we’ll get you help. You’re going to bleed out.”

“Rey, stop. You have to go. I’m sure more of Snoke’s guards have been alerted and are on their way. You’re injured, and too weak to fight more. Please, go. Take care of yourself. Please.” I felt the weakest I ever had. It might not have been all physical. It might have been the fear that she would do what I said.

“Ben. STOP.” She ripped the top layer of her tunic off, still concealing everything, but showing more of her upper arms and collarbones. She lifted my back with all her strength, and I groaned pathetically. “I’m sorry, I just have to stop the blood.” She wrapped the clothing piece around my wound and tied it tight on the other side. I felt her head being flooded with thoughts of losing me. Fear of the only person she ever longed for, the only person she felt so connected to, the only person she so desperately needed…. The only person she desperately needed? Tears threatened to spill onto her absent colored cheeks. “I’m going to try to lift you, but you have to use whatever strength you have left to help me.”

I nodded and felt the pressure in my thighs and calves as I assisted her to help me get up. I looked at her face, and her eyes closed, and I felt as if I were levitating into her small arms. She was using the Force to carry me. I felt pathetic and small. But I could not let those emotions override me, for I felt my eyelids begin to get heavy and there was no stopping.

I woke only about 10 inches from a ceiling. The cot I was on was a dry and rickety thing that I was surprised could hold me. I looked down to see myself shirtless, but my lower abdomen wrapped in gauze. Pain built in my ribs, which pressed on my lungs, and I coughed forcefully. Where was she? Was she alright? What happened? Where am I? I heard light footsteps coming my way. It was her. She seemed to have a new beauty, raw and vulnerable, blood caked on her skin, sweat beads still radiating, hair messily framing her face, and clothes ripped and fraying. She came towards me and put her cold and tiny hand on my forehead.

“You still have a fever. How bad does it hurt? Do you need water? Do you think you need a new gauze?” I still felt that high anxiety that clouded her mind that I would not survive.

“No….”, I barely managed to whisper. I tried to crane my neck up but I had no strength, not even in my neck, to move. She ran her small fingers through my hair; such a small gesture, and yet I felt the remaining hardness in my soul soften some with her gentle touch.

“I didn’t know where to go. So I searched for a peaceful, seemingly isolated planet for you to heal on. There was something called Naboo. And I just wanted to do anything to make sure you would be okay. Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

“You.” Such an impulsive statement, though just one word. Her brow furrowed in uncertainty. Me? I’m nobody. What does he mean? I can’t fix this. What if I ruin it? What if this is my fault? And any care he once had turns to rage for me? I shivered, hearing her deep and vulnerable thoughts.

“….me?” Her eyes were so innocent.

“Here. Please.” I whispered so faint, but words that were so strong. Her face was in pure relief and satisfaction. I looked at her, just basking in the presence of serenity she gave me. Then I remembered her wounds, just as she tended to mine. Selfish bastard. “Your arm.” I looked at it, and the blood was dry and dark, but some burning, bright red still seeped from the center of the gash.

She looked down, “It’s nothing.” I felt a surge of strength come from my feet to my head. I leaned up, and reached for her hurt arm, and she winced and I heard the faintest of a whimper.

“Get me a gauze and a wet cloth. Now.” I was sure I seemed bossy and dominant, but there was no way in hell I would not let her wounds and pain go unnoticed. She came back with the two, and I winced in agony as I sat up. I pulled her small framed body onto the cot, beside me, and I wiped the damp cloth with one swipe, from her hand to her elbow. Her face was painted with pain, a shade I knew too well. I then wrapped her forearm in the gauze; tight but loose enough for her injury to breathe.

“Thank you,” she said so softly and genuinely. It may have been just seconds, or minutes, or hours. But time let me sink into her hazel eyes. I pulled her non-injured hand down, requiring her body to lay down. She seemed hesitant, but then I felt her relax. I laid down, with her back pressed to my chest on the small and quite uncomfortable cot. But there was nothing uncomfortable about being in this position. This moment.

The wound on my lower torso seemed to disappear, and all of my being was not focused on my pain, but what I could do to erase the pain of her own. Her eyes began to close, and I brushed the hair away from her neck, and I kissed the sweet skin. Not in a lustful way, nothing sexual, or trying to start anything of that sort, but to do the most intimate thing I could to make her feel protected, to make her feel safe. I don’t want his lips to stop. I don’t ever want his touch to go away. I wish our skin was stitched together. I’ve been strong for too long. I’m not afraid of anything when I’m near him. Not the darkness, not the Sith, not the conflict, not the pressure, not even what he has done or is capable of. All he is capable of right now is making me melt. Like a candle dripping wax so slowly, but so heated. My skin was overcome with a wave of goosebumps. I picked up my arm and placed my hand in her soft, honey brown hair and brushed my fingers through the strands. In moments, I paused to kiss her temple, her cheek, her hair, her ear, her jaw, and her neck. She drank in every softening gesture I gave her and I felt every atom within her fall fast asleep. It wasn’t long before I drifted off myself. I woke to her jostling around, shaking, and I felt her fear. She moaned loudly, but the decibels slowly descended into the softest, yet scariest whimpers. I touched her forehead, and it was burning, just as she said mine was earlier. With a small shake of her shoulders, she awoke with a gasp. She shivered.

“Rey, are you alright?”

“Yes, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” “You’re not alright. You had a nightmare.”

“Jedi don’t have nightmares.”

“But you’re much more than just a Jedi.” She lay silent, but I knew her mind was shouting. “Please tell me.”

“I saw you leave. You walked away. Because I couldn’t decide, the dark or the light. I saw you fade from the view, but I tried screaming, but you couldn’t hear me. And I couldn’t do anything but take the lightsaber from my belt and end it.” There was nothing pathetic about the flood of tears that escaped from my tired eyes.

She tried to speak again, but I gently flipped her towards me, wary of her wounded arm. She couldn’t even force out a mumble, but I placed a finger on her soft lips. “Shhh.” Her cheeked were stained with tears and her eyes were bloodshot. I leaned my head down, and touched my forehead to her. I kissed the tip of her nose. Another stream of tears came from her eyes, but they were not out of fear. But out of contentment. Please don’t leave me. I can’t….I won’t ever…..be able to….go on…. Her plea made every ounce of lost strength I had come back, renewed and more intense than ever. Not out of rage, but reason.

“I won’t leave. You’re mine. I’m yours. Galaxies apart, you’re still stitched to me.” Her eyes looked in mine, and her entire soul hoped I meant it. And my entire soul was sure I would make her know that I did.</p>

#beautiful submission by a beautiful writer #reylo fic #not mine #so beautiful #thank you so much for sending this to me!!!#reylo

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theoreticalsmatt · 4 years

Text

Sunset on a Highway

The gentle whirring of the engine matched with the soft rocking of the vehicle over bumps and around turns woke her. A light was flashing across her face, which was pressed into the seat cushion, almost stuck there from time alone. How long had she been asleep? The seatbelt was digging into her hip, probably leaving an uncomfortable imprint. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she looked up. Sunlight was peeking through trees passing by, hiding in between quick seconds of shadows. Reds and purples deepened the sky, giving a canvas to the impending sunset. But she had gone to sleep at night, just like every night. In her bed, of all things! Why had she fallen asleep for who-knows-how-long? Why was she in a car?

Her heart rate sped up as her breath became more shallow. What was going on? She tried sitting up, stiffness seeping from her bones through pops and cracks. Her head was heavy. It took a full ten seconds to push herself upright and dig the end of that seatbelt out of her hip. A quiet groan escaped her lips, the first sound she’d heard other than the vehicle’s engine.

“Mornin’, honey.”

She instantly froze. The gruff voice was completely unexpected, and for the first time since awakening, she realized that there must be a driver in the car.

Slowly, she guided her eyes towards the driver’s seat. A man sat there, face towards the road. He glanced back. “Or maybe evenin’ is the better word. You been out a while.”

A while? What did that mean? And why wasn’t this man surprised? She took a quick moment to study him. A light scruff on his face, faux leather jacket, and Rolex betrayed his intention for a certain stereotype, not including the layers of grease in his hair. A tinge of body odor wafted through the air, but that easily could have been her. She was planning on washing her hair tomorrow--or, rather, today--so who was she to judge? Either way, she needed more information.

“Who are you?” she asked forcefully. Speak confidently and people will listen, right? That sounded like something her dad would say.

“Oh, honey,” he said, practically tasting each word as he spoke. A soft smile crept up the corners of his mouth. “You can’t keep askin’ me that, you know we can’t talk like that.”

Keep asking him? How long had she been in the car? She needed to know. “Tell me who you are now.” The last word was almost an afterthought, but she was glad to include it. Maybe with more force--

“We can’t keep goin’ over this. Ask some different questions for once.” Agitation began to show. Shorter breaths, his hairy knuckles drumming on the steering wheel. Was she wearing him down without even knowing it? How many times had she done this to him? She decided to play along.

“Alright, fine. Different questions.” A moment of thought passed. “Where are we going?”

He laughed, unexpectedly loud. She almost jumped, or maybe she shuddered. She could hear the years of cigarettes in his voice. “You really crackin’ me up here, sweetheart! You got any more doozies like that?” He guffawed again, wheezing as he went. “Go on, try me.”

As unsettling as this man was, she didn’t feel the need to be careful with her questions. “Okay... “ Everything she wanted to know was probably something she had asked before. Was there anything he would answer? Was there anything she hadn’t asked? “What’s your favorite color?”

His wheezing died down. He squinted, as if truly pondering what color he would choose. Or maybe something else entirely. The second of hesitation was almost unbearable. “Blue.”

“Well, that’s not very interesting,” she retorted.

“What?”

“I said that’s not very interesting.” And honestly, it wasn’t. Every boy chooses blue. There’s so much blue in the world with oceans and skies. Would it really hurt the manhood to pick something different? Maybe even a shade of blue.

His voice grew gruff again, somehow more than before. “Look, you asked a color and I said one, alright?” His fingers were drumming again. “I don’t have nothin’ to prove.”

She wondered if that was a statement pointed at her directly. She sensed it probably wasn’t. “I’m not asking you to prove anything. I’m just saying there’s a lot of colors out there, and blue is probably the most generic one--”

“The hell do you know about colors?” he suddenly shouted. The stillness that followed ravaged any peace that might have come with the quiet. The air was just gone from the car, sucked out of some hidden hole. Minutes passed. Anger radiated from him. She didn’t know if she had touched on a sensitive subject, but maybe it was something deeper.

She tried reaching out. “Look I’m sorry if I--”

“Don’t,” he said calmly. “Just… stop. Stop talkin’ to me. I shouldn’t be talkin’ to you anyways.”

Confusion swallowed her. What had happened to this man that he felt he couldn’t talk to his own car-mate? Maybe some wound of his past had been reopened, thanks to her. And how many times had she reopened it, if they had had this conversation before? Her attention turned back to her situation. She was in a car she didn’t recognize with a man she didn’t know, headed to an unknown location for an unknown amount of time. Wound or not, she needed some kind of answer.

“Why not?” she said softly. She wasn’t sure if she should turn on her feminine wiles or motherly instinct to reach her driver. Maybe just caring for him, as a fellow person, would help open him up.

He seemed a bit taken aback. Perhaps this was a question she hadn’t asked before. He stumbled over his reply. “We… I--we’re just not supposed to!” The finishing note of his explanation fell flat. Not that she didn’t believe him, but perhaps he didn’t believe himself.

“Who’s we?” she asked, trying to dig deeper. The gravity of his statement began to weigh on her. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Somewhere, in the ether of unanswered questions, there was some semblance of a system with rules. Rules that this man was fearful to break. She had to know what was going on.

“Listen, I--you know I can’t tell you!” he spat out. He was growing exasperated.

She continued to push. “Why not? Why can’t we just talk?”

“Because!”

“That’s not an answer.”

“We just can’t!”

“You already said that.”

His breath was becoming more unsteady. His fingers drummed faster. Beads of sweat began to glisten on his temple. One last attempt at a defense was made. “We’re not supposed to talk to the p--.” He cut himself short. She could almost see the tail tucked between his legs.

Her mind began racing. His wasn’t the only pulse building. She was finally getting somewhere. “To the what? Passenger? Prisoner?”

A moment passed, along with a van in the opposite lane. His eyes cut to it, as if they could have heard what he was about to say. Looking back toward the road, he stared into the now falling darkness ahead. One word left his lips, voiced only by the raspiness built up over the years. Barely above a whisper, he said:

“Product.”

The blood drained from her face, her hands, everything. The moment froze, endlessly looping in her head, melting into other moments of her imagination. Maybe that’s all this was. Could she have imagined it? The nausea disagreed. Everything began constricting around her, seeming to squeeze what little breath she had left into the night. She tugged at her seatbelt, trying to create some kind of space she could control inside this trap. Her sharp yank, however, was met only with a quick stop. She yanked again, unsuccessfully, and turned her efforts to the buckle below. Her hands found the clasp… but no release. She continued to fumble around the seat, looking for any kind of anchor, something to help guide her through her mental chaos. Her hands grasped at everything in the car: door handles, seatbelts, cushions, her own clothes--anything that even remotely hinted at her freedom. With every new texture, each new grip, a little more hope was lost. Her panic only grew, reaching her mouth, pushing out groans of agony. Where was her freedom?

A quick hiss from the driver’s seat startled her. She whipped around, not ready for a new element, but was greeted only with an aroma. Where had she smelled this before? Some automotive store in her hometown? The oil change place down the street? No, her garage. It was in her garage. An open hood flashed through her mind. Her dad had tried fixing some problem in an effort to bond with her. Something like that. He never could find car problems in a timely manner, but when he did, it was fixed in twenty minutes or less.

Gradually, calmness flowed through her, and clarity followed. Why had she trailed off like that? Why was that smell here? Suddenly, the calmness felt less like a river and more like a rapid, swallowing her down an unseen current. Her fingertips went numb as she slumped over. She used the last of her will to question one last time: “Wh-... What’s going on?”

The man sighed, giving away his experience with the situation. “We have a long trip ahead. Wouldn’t be right to make you stay awake for the whole thing.”

The calmness slowly turned to apathy. Her eyes rolled upwards, looking at the night above her head. Trees melted into the darkness around, flying swiftly past her. A half moon washed away most of the stars, but some faint twinkles couldn’t hide. More darkness began to follow, wrapping her in a blurry embrace. The garage faded into her mind’s eye, and back again, blending into the obscurity surrounding her. One exhale gave her another chance. “I want to go home,” she breathed quietly.

He tried offering some comfort. “And I want to go to the moon.” Comfort wasn’t right here. Security, perhaps? Something to help settle her? “But it ain’t happenin’, sweetheart. Time to accept that.” He brought his attention back to the road. It never got easier.

#flash fiction #writing prompt #my writing

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notebookqueenofnarnia · 7 years

Text

The Just Jedi (Part 5 Narnian Star Wars Story)

Parts One Two Three Four

Summary: As the Narnian try to figure out what evil forces are at work on Calormen, Edmund finds out more about the girl he’s already in love with.

Author’s Note: From this point forward, I’ll be continuing this story by request only. It’s probably about halfway through the plot line I have planned. So let me know if you’d like to see it continue!

“Put that away! You could kill someone!” Peter shouted at (Y/N). She lowered the weapon and put a hand on her hip.

“Really?! I had no idea.” She jestured to the bodies on the floor. All of the Narnians stared at her in awe.

“She fired before I was even awake,” Susan said.

“I’ve never seen anyone move so fast,” Lucy added. “I didn’t even know you had a weapon.” They watched as (Y/N) lifted up her nightgown to tuck the small blaster back on the holster around her thigh. Edmund realized his jaw was still on the floor. He composed himself and put away his lightsaber.

“What should we do now?” Lucy asked.

“We ready our armies and take down Miraz in the morning.” Peter declared. “I’m sure Alderann and Archenland would be behind us, as well. I’ll wake Senator Organa.”

“Wait!” Edmund prevented his brother from leaving. He could see his brother’s temper reaching a new fever pitch. “We don’t even know that they were sent here by Miraz. It could have just as well have been any another guest here.”

“But-”

“Edmund’s right, Peter. We can’t just start galatic wars on circumstantial evidence.” Said Susan.

Peter opened his mouth, but (Y/N) spoke first. “I know I’m not exactly part of the royal party here, but perhaps our first action should be to ensure the safety of the other guests.”

“I don’t think we should wake the whole castle,” Edmund declared. “I don’t think we should raise any alarm. Think about it...if it was Miraz behind this, we will know the moment he sees us alive in the morning.” Everyone seemed to be in agreement.

“I still think we should check on Senator Organa and the others.” (Y/N) persisted. “If you sent your mice, Edmund, they could-” He left the room before she finished her sentence. He called Trickfoot on his comlink and gave him the instructions for the mice.

“I’ll send guards to Your Majesties to the ship presently.” The badger said.

“No, Trickfoot,” Edmund answered. “Escape would certainly raise the alarm.” One of the attackers stirred on the floor. “But, send some strong Narnians to come for the bodies. Take them to the ship. There’s only one survivor to care for. Don’t let anyone be seen.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Trickfoot signed off. Edmund returned to the girls’ room and explained the proceedings.

“So we should act like nothing happened?” Lucy asked.

Edmund nodded. “We need to see how things play out. But, everyone should be alert. Don’t go anywhere alone.”

“Ready?”

The kings and queens of Narnia and (Y/N) all nodded. Tumnus opened the doors to the castle’s great hall and they all entered. Edmund’s eyes instantly searched for Miraz.

“Your Majesties!” Senator Organa called out from the opposite end of the table. The chair closest to them slowly slid back from the table. Before Miraz faced them, Edmund closed his eyes and reached out his mind. There were many emotions throughout the room, making it difficult for Edmund, who had not done this in some time, to center on Miraz. But, Edmund took deep breaths and blocked them out. He sensed bitterness. Bitterness, anticipation, and...Edmund almost felt surprise, but all emotions suddenly turned into the warmest affection Edmund had ever felt. It was bright and loving and made him smile.

“Edmund?” (Y/N)’s voice jolted Edmund out of his head. She had placed a warm hand on his arm and gestured towards the table with the other one. Everyone had sat down and was staring at him. Edmund glanced at Miraz as he took his seat. The man stroked his bead, but betrayed no emotion. Edmund turned to asked one of his siblings about what they had seen, but realized that they were all seated some distance from him. The only person he knew was (Y/N), beside him. He asked her about Miraz’s expression.

She shook her head. “Maybe a little surprised, but I hardly know him. He just looked creepy, as always, to me.” She grimaced in the lord’s direction. “I mean really, what’s with that beard? Is he trying to look like a spear?” She giggled.

It was strange to see her smiling face as she buttered a slice of toast after having seen her last night, blaster in her hands and hair as wild as her expression. There were depths to her, and Edmund desperately wanted to dive in and discover every piece to her. He knew he couldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t. He leaned in close to her face, his mouth a breath away from her cheek.

“After breakfast, tell my siblings I’ll be going to check the survivor on our ship.” He told her. She turned to look him in the eyes. Edmund’s breath hitched at the closeness of her lips.

“You can’t go by yourself.”

“I’ll be-”

“No, it was your rule. I’ll go with you.” She did not look away. He could see the defiance in her eyes. He realized that both were true; he revered and feared her. And he should definitely keep his distance.

He grabbed a piece of toast and sat back in his chair.

(Y/N) glanced at Edmund as they walked towards the docking bay. He was pointedly avoiding her gaze and was some ways from the castle and she was never one to enjoy awkward silence.

“So....you’re a Jedi?” She asked. His head snapped towards her.

“Did my sisters tell you?”

She smiled. “No, the lightsaber.” Edmund nodded and turned his attention back to the scenery. She spoke slowly. “I thought all Jedi were to remain on Coruscant. Unless on a mission-”

Edmund cut her off and did not look her in the eyes. “I’m not technically a Jedi. It’s a long story.”

“It’s a long walk.”

That finally got her his complete attention. She found her mind going blank as she looked at his eyes, and vaguely wondered if it was some Jedi mind-trick or if she was really as infatuated with the man as she feared.

“You were a princess?” He asked suddenly.

“Yes.” She stiffened.

“But no longer.”

“Yes. Long story.”

“Long walk.”

There was a short silence before they both started laughing. (Y/N) said what they were thinking.

“I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me yours.” Edmund extended his hand towards her. They shook on it. “You first.”

Edmund told her. In a low voice as they wandered out of the city. As he told her, he realized it was a much shorter story than he had ever thought, especially as she seemed to understand his reasons for staying with his family. She empathized with him; he didn’t have to justify himself to her at all. That was a first for Edmund. Since the day he met Queen Jadis, he felt the need to justify everything he ever did. But, (Y/N) understood his loyalty to his family and his people, which only made him more anxious to hear her story.

They arrived at the ship to be met with grim faces. Tumnus was there, having anticipated Edmund’s actions as always. Edmund didn’t even have to open his mouth before Tumnus answered his questions.

“Our deepest apologies, Your Highness, but the survivor managed to escape just after dawn. We thought him too incapacitated for it, Your Highness.”

Edmund sighed. “Well, it’s not like he can tell his boss anything he doesn’t already know. Have you searched the area?” The docking bay was surrounded by soft terrain and woods. Tumnus nodded.

“Even the centaurs found nothing, Your Highness.”

“He must have gone back into town, then. Don’t worry, Tumnus, I’m sure we’ll find him. And we’ll figure out what’s going here.” He and (Y/N) turned around. Edmund smiled at her. “You’re turn.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re not more concerned at his escape?”

“Do you think he will personally be trying again? As I said before, he has no new information. In fact, this might be a gain for us if he returns to his employer. We simply have to find him. And that won’t be difficult.” Edmund told her. She smirked. “What?”

“Are you going to use a mind-trick to find him?”

Edmund felt the color rise in his cheeks. .“No. I have...eyes and ears all around us. Coming from a world of Talking Beasts comes in handy sometimes.”

She laughed at that. Edmund liked her laugh.

“Come on, Princess, your story.”

Her laughter died instantly. Edmund regretted his words immensely. He fumbled for an apology, but she stopped him.

“No, no, it’s alright. It’s just...difficult. The princess thing. It’s...” She took a deep breath. “It’s really no secret either. Galactic news, in fact.” Her attention for the first time that day, drifted from Edmund. She stared off at the ocean in the distance.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

She flashed a sad smile at him. “No, no, we made a deal. I don’t break those.” She looked away from him again and began her story. “I was Princess of Commenor, second in line for the throne. My father and mother were king and queen, of course, and I had an older brother who was to be king. He even was about to get married. In fact, I think the food for the wedding arrived the day before....

“Commenor is a very popular planet for trade. So the Trade Federation took a particular interest in our family. You know, expensive meals and gifts to ensure we’d always rule in their favor. It was....an agreeable relationship, but not always a healthy one. With the gifts also came threats when it seemed my parents weren’t going to rule the way the Federation wanted.”

“Did they bring this to the Senate?” Edmund asked.

“We could never prove where the threats came from. They could have just as well have been from our people. They often did not like our rulings either. I’m sure you know how impossible it is to please everyone....but, either way, there came a day, that day....I was in the Senate on Coruscant. For some weeks, there had been much unrest on our planet, riots on the street on such, but none of the animosity seemed directed at any one force. I thought and still think the aggression was spurred and fueled by the Trade Federation. Propaganda and rumors and such. But still no one thought....

“My family was just sitting down for breakfast and there was...they were...well, killed. And within a matter of hours of their deaths, the Trade Federation had swept in and taken control with the full support of the people. The monarchy of Commenor was dead, both figuratively and literally. Senator Organa took me under his protection, I suppose, and here I am. The princess without a crown.”

Edmund hardly knew how to process the information, let alone come up with something to say. They had arrived at the castle. He stopped her just outside the garden gate. He cleared his throat. “That’s umm...I’m so sorry.”

She shrugged and leaned down to smell a flower. Edmund thought for a moment, lost in her serene aura. “It must be...lonely for you.” She looked at Edmund with surprise. A smile grew on her face again. She stood upright and gently took his hand into both of hers. She ran her fingers over his knuckles. Edmund forgot to breathe.

“You know, Edmund, after I lost...everything...I thought I would never be happy and never feel...love or feel loved again, but since coming to Narnia, I have-”

She was cut off by his sister’s voice.

“Edmund! (Y/N)!” Lucy came running down from the castle, her skirts flying. Edmund jerked his hand away and cleared his throat. His sister stopped in front of them, panting and with tears streaming down her face.

“Lucy! What-”

“Oh, Edmund!” Lucy threw her arms around her brother and sobbed. “Lord Miraz...he...”

“What, Lucy? What!” He pushed his sister away gently. “Breathe. Deep breaths. There you go. ”

She wiped her tears. “Lord Miraz just announced that King Caspian’s ship has been attacked by pirates and everyone is dead! The King and Prince and oh, Edmund!” She launched herself at him for another hug, sobbing again. Edmund held his sister tightly, knowing exactly what he had to do next.

#The Chronicles of Narnia #narnia #narnia crossover #star wars crossover #star wars #starwarsinnarnia #narnia au #susan pevensie #peter pevensie #edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #lucy pevensie #justjedi

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