“Is there anything we can do?” said Kirk.

            “Only one thing,” said Saavik. “Get him off this planet. His ageing is part of what’s going on around us.”

            A few meters away, a small sinkhole opened up, and Genesis crumbled in. Flames shot out moment later. It seemed David had spoken the truth; the Genesis experiment was a failure.

            “So we still need to get Spock to Vulcan to remove his Katra from Bones and give it back to him,” said (Y/N).

            Saavik nodded. “Yes.”

            Kirk looked around for inspiration and picked up a Klingon communicator. He made eye-contact with his crew, and they nodded. They trusted whatever decision he made. And there was only one ship left in the sky—the Klingon Bird of Prey.

            Well, we’ve already committed a few treaty violations. So have they. And I’m willing to do anything for Spock.

            “Klingon Commander, this is Admiral James T. Kirk,” said Kirk. “I’m alive and well on the planet’s surface. I know this will come as a pleasant surprise to you. Our ship was the victim of an unfortunate accident. Sorry about your crew, but, as we say on Earth, ‘C’est la vie.’ ”

            (Y/N) raised a brow. It was a unique choice to provoke a Klingon, but psychological games were always effective.

            “I have what you want,” said Kirk. “I have the secret of Genesis. You’re gonna have to bring us up there to get it. Do you hear me?” Around them, Genesis trembled. “I’m waiting for you! What’s your answer?”

            The earthquake grew stronger, and (Y/N) held onto Spock’s body tighter. They were not losing him again.

            “Drop all weapons!”

            The crew whirled to find a Klingon with a phaser pointed directly at them. Kirk obeyed, tossing his phaser to the ground. It was time to risk everything.

            “Over there.” The Klingon gestured to the side. “All but Kirk.”

            The crew obeyed, but as (Y/N) tried to pick up Spock, the Klingon pointed at them.

            “Leave the Vulcan,” said the Klingon.

“Why?” demanded (Y/N).

“Because you want him with you,” sneered the Klingon.

            (Y/N) curled their hands into fists, eyes flashing angrily. “Let me fight for my Captain and Spock.”

            Everyone looked at them in surprise.

            “(L/N),” said Kirk.

            “Please, Admiral. For Spock,” said (Y/N). They looked at the Klingon. “I was here when Genesis detonated. I understand it.”

            “Very well,” said the Klingon.

            “(L/N)!” said Kirk in alarm.

            But the Klingon spoke into his communicator, and the crew began to dematerialize. (Y/N) just kept their gaze on the Klingon.

            “Give me Genesis,” said the Klingon.

            “It’s all around you. And it’s dying,” said (Y/N). “It’s a failure. What you’re looking for is pointless.”

            “It is the ultimate weapon!” said Klingon.

            “It is a failed experiment,” said (Y/N) calmly.

            They sighed and rolled up their sleeves. The ground shook around them, caving in to reveal fire and lava. Spock’s hair was graying, too. He was almost the age he’d been when they’d lost him. (Y/N) was running out of time to finish things. So they wouldn’t waste anymore.

            “We’re both going to die,” said (Y/N). “If we don’t beam out.”

            “Then that is how it shall be!” said the Klingon.

            He rushed them, and (Y/N) took the hit. They tumbled down a hill with the Klingon, rocks scraping their back and side. (Y/N) hit the bottom where a rift was opening up and scrambled away from the heat. The Klingon grabbed their leg, dragging them back, and (Y/N) kicked him. He tore at their uniform, pulling them under him to strangle them.

            (Y/N) placed two fingers on his head as they strangled them. “I’m going to get my husband and leaving here, whether you like it or not!” Their golden eyes glowed brighter, and fear pulsed through the Klingon. “So get out of my way!”

            The Klingon wrenched back at the onslaught of terror, tripped over a root, and fell into the lava teeming beneath Genesis’s surface. (Y/N) didn’t waste a second and ran for the top of the hill. They scrambled up the roots and rocks, pulling themself back to Spock’s side. His features were not his own, the dignified, wise age of their husband. (Y/N) smiled at him, held onto him, and picked up the remaining communicator. Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) copied the order the Klingon had given to get the crew beamed up.

            (Y/N) held Spock close, and as the world caved in around them, they closed their eyes. Whatever happened, they had Spock. That was all that mattered.

l

            (Y/N) and Spock rematerialized on board the Klingon vessel, and (Y/N) looked around themself, instantly on edge. They were on the Bridge, but no one was fighting. In fact, the only Klingon was handcuffed. Kirk had already taken control of the situation and defeated the remaining Klingon, promising to “kill him” after they got away.

            “You made it,” said Kirk in relief.

            “Thank god, goldie,” said Bones, staring at them.

            “Do we already have control of the ship?” said (Y/N), bewildered.

            Kirk sighed. “We will once those three decide what is the anti-matter inducer.”

            Chekov, Sulu, and Scotty were huddled around a control panel. (Y/N), filled with adrenaline at being alive and having Spock, let out a surprised laugh.

            “This?” said Sulu.

            “No, this,” said Chekov.

            “That or nothing,” said Scotty decidedly, pressing the button.

            “Did it work?” said Kirk, helping (Y/N) support Spock.

            “If I’m reading this right, we have full power,” said Sulu.

            “Go, Sulu,” ordered Kirk.

            Sulu didn’t have to be told twice. He punched it, and the Klingon Bird of Prey flew away from Genesis as fast as possible as the planet swallowed itself up into a mass of magma.

            “Goodbye, David,” said Kirk softly.

            “I’m sorry, Jim,” said (Y/N), resting their hand on his shoulder.

            “We are free and clear to navigate,” said Sulu.

            “Best speed to Vulcan,” ordered Kirk. “Mr. Chekov, take the prisoner below.”

            “Wait! You said you’d kill me!” said the Klingon.

            (Y/N) sighed. Klingons and honor and dying.

            “I lied,” said Kirk. He wasn’t interested in more death. He looked at (Y/N). “And now we’re going to get to Vulcan.”

            (Y/N)’s heart thumped, and they held Spock tightly. They were going to be alright.

l

            “Ambassador, they are on approach.” Uhura stood before Sarek. “They’re requesting permission to land.”

            “Permission granted,” said Sarek. “Tell them—tell (Y/N) we’ll be ready.”

            Uhura smiled and nodded.

l

            “Mr. Sulu, you’re on manual,” said Kirk as the Bird of Prey approached Vulcan.

            “It’s been a while, sir,” said Sulu. “Here we go.” Carefully, he brought them through the mountains of Vulcan and towards the landing pad where Uhura and the Vulcans were waiting. “Retrothrusters.” Gingerly, he lowered the ship down until they landed properly. Sulu was an expert, even in a ship he’d never been in before.

            Solemnly, (Y/N) stood and, together with their friends, picked up the cot with Spock on it. They walked down the gangplank silently, approaching the awaiting Vulcans in their ritual regalia. Torches lined a path over the mountains, a fountain stood before them, and every Vulcan was ready for Spock’s Katra to be honored.

            Uhura and two guards stepped forward to them. She hugged (Y/N), understanding the emotional turmoil they were still going through, and (Y/N) held her in return.

            “Sarek is waiting above,” said Uhura softly, looking at the stairway.

            A gong sounded, and (Y/N) nodded. They held Spock’s cot tighter, and they led the trek forward. This was for Spock. This was for their husband. This was for the man they loved.

            They stepped towards the stairs, and several Vulcan attendants interceded, taking the cot from them. Sarek held up a hand, and the Vulcans paused, allowing (Y/N) to remain beside them as they walked. (Y/N) was Spock’s T’hy’la—that would be respected at this ceremony.

            (Y/N) watched him be carried before a Priestess and laid down so she could examine in. Their hand hovered over their ring, trying to assure Spock they were there, with him, always.

            The Priestess raised a hand and touching Spock’s temples. “Sarek.” She spoke evenly, voice echoing in the silence. The attendants raised a single hand each, the white dresses fluttering around them as if moved by the Priestess’s voice. “Child of Skon, child of Solkar…the body of your son still lives. What is your wish?”

            (Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat, and they looked at Sarek, gaze asking him to help Spock. Sarek looked at them and then to the Priestess.

            “It is not my wishes that are needed,” said Sarek. “It is his bonded’s, (Y/N) (L/N), child of Nikomedes. They are the family.”

            (Y/N) straightened as everyone looked at them.

            “(Y/N) (L/N), child of Nikomedes, the body of your husband still lives. What is your wish?” said the Priestess.

            “If there is a way to give him his mind back, I wish for it,” said (Y/N).

            Sarek spoke to them. “They ask for the Fal-Tor-Pan. The refusion.”

            (Y/N) nodded, not understanding the words but trusting Sarek.

            The Priestess’s eyes remained on (Y/N). “What you seek has not been done since ages past and then only in legend. Your request is not logical.”

            “It is not. But I am not entirely logical,” said (Y/N) honestly. “I will not pretend to be.”

            The Priestess raised a brow, impressed by the straightforward answer. (Y/N) did not hide behind pretense. The Vulcans could at least respect that, if not logic. “Who is the Keeper of the Katra?” she asked.

            “I am,” said Bones. “McCoy, Leonard H. Son of David.” He spoke awkwardly, but he was as firm in his desire to help Spock as any of the others.

            The Priestess now gazed at him. “McCoy, son of David, since thou art human, we cannot expect thee to understand fully what (L/N) has requested. Spock’s body lives. With your approval, we shall use all our powers to return to his body that which you possess. But McCoy, you must now be warned! The danger to thyself is as grave as the danger to Spock. You must make the choice.”

            Bones didn’t hesitate. “I choose the danger.” He looked at (Y/N) and Kirk incredulously. “Hell of a time to ask.”

            (Y/N) smiled slightly, grateful to have such supportive friends.

            Sarek gestured for Bones to step forward, and he did.

            “My lady priestess,” said (Y/N), and all eyes went to them. They slid Spock’s ring from their finger and held it up. “This is part of our marriage bond, beyond just our minds. And I am an empath. Whatever I can do to steady Spock’s katra or Bones’s mind, I will to ensure they’re both same.”

            The Priestess regarded them thoughtfully before inclining her head. (Y/N) was allowed to approach with Sarek and Bones. The other crew members were escorted out of the ritual hall to await the results.

            (Y/N) barely noticed as they walked to the podium. Bones lay down beside Spock and closed his eyes. The Priestess stood over them both, the wide sleeves of her robes draping across them.

            “Ben, wal, navu,” she said, speaking with purpose.

            (Y/N) placed their ring back on their finger and touched Spock’s face with one hand and Bones’s shoulder with the other. Closing their eyes, they focused their empathy on their husband and the bond they could still feel with him.

            Come, Spock. Come back to me. Come back. I love you.

            It was all they wanted.

l

            A gong sounded and brought (Y/N) out of the empathic meditation they’d been in. Their eyes snapped opened to find sunlight filtering through the clouds onto them, Spock, and Bones.

            Sarek stepped back from the podium, and the Priestess took her hands away. (Y/N) stood and walked down the stairs. They understood that all that could be done had. Now it was time to wait. Slowly, Bones opened his eyes and sat up. (Y/N) supported him and helped him down the stairs until he could stand. Together, they exited the ritual room. (Y/N) looked back at Spock lying on the podium.

            Please. They reached out through the marriage bond one last time. Come back to me, Spock.

            “Bones. (L/N),” said Kirk as they left. The entire crew was waiting for them, never having left for a moment.

            “I’m alright, Jim,” said Bones.

            “So am I,” said (Y/N). Their empathy was certainly tired, but it had been used for a good cause. They paused and looked at Sarek. “Will Spock be alright?”

            “Time will answer,” said Sarek.

            (Y/N) turned around, and their eyes widened. Spock was standing and being clad in a white robe. On their left hand, their ring felt warmer. “Spock,” they said softly.

            Spock turned as if hearing them, and his dark, steady eyes landed on them.

            “(Y/N),” said Sarek, and they tore their eyes from Spock’s to look at him. “I thank you. What you’ve done is—”

            “There is no world where I would not have fought for him,” said (Y/N) softly. They loved Spock. They always would.

            Sarek gazed at them and inclined his head. “Spock chose well.”

            Two attendants guided Spock down the stairs before leaving him. He stood in the white robe and was escorted past the crew. Each member of the Enterprise crew kept their eyes on him the entire time, and (Y/N) twisted their ring.

            Spock passed each crew member, and he looked at them. His eyes landed on (Y/N), and he paused. He turned to them fully, and (Y/N) gazed back. Slowly, Spock shed the hood of his cloak, and sunlight hit his face. (Y/N) looked back at him warmly. Spock took a few steps towards them.

            “…I know you,” he said.

            “You do,” said (Y/N) gently.

            “You…fought to bring me back here,” said Spock.

            “You would have done the same for me,” said (Y/N).

            Spock furrowed his brow slightly. “Why would you have done this?”

            (Y/N) slipped his ring from their finger and held it up. “Because sometimes the needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many.”

            Spock paused before reaching up and taking the ring. He looked from it and its blue stone to the Vokaya in (Y/N)’s ring to (Y/N)’s golden eyes. He gazed at them intently. “…You’re safe.”

            (Y/N) smiled at him with tears shining. “Yes, Spock.”

            “And the ship…?” he said.

            “It’s safe, Spock. You saved all of us,” said (Y/N), stepping towards him.

            “(Y/N),” said Spock, slipping the ring properly onto his finger. (Y/N) felt the bond solidify between them once more. “You are (Y/N). My t’hy’la.” He held out two fingers.

            “I am.” (Y/N) touched two fingers to his. “I am.”

            Spock pressed his fingers back before looking back at the others. Bones winked and tapped his forehead. Uhura, Sulu, Scotty, and Kirk grinned. Saavik nodded to him. Spock looked back at (Y/N).

            “T’hy’la,” he said firmly. This was the person he loved, his spouse, his t’hy’la. Even without his mind, he’d longed for them. His heart always would.

            “Always,” said (Y/N), pulling Spock in.

            And Spock pulled them in right back. In both Vulcan and Celian manners, he kissed them. Spock was back. (Y/N) and Spock were reunited.

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So, when your friends in your dorm made you get dressed, which was opposite to what they wore.They wore short dresses or crop tops, pretty much anything revealing at least 80 percent of their skin. While you went with a black short sleeved button-up shirt, a gray blazer rolled up to the elbows with matching gray plaid dress pants and a pair of black dress shoes. (And wire framed glasses if you wore them)

Safe to say, you stuck out like a sore thumb against your friends. And also, unfortunately for you, that means you caught the attention of four certain vampires of the night. They already had an eye set on your friends to be their meal for the night. They looked easy. Just some simple flirting and they would be set. It was only when one of them wrapped an arm around your shoulder, urging you to join in their night of fun did their attention fully turn to you.

You were on the opposite spectrum of your friends. They want to party and have fun while you wish you were still stuck inside reading a new book, or hey, even getting a head start on one of your assignments. And the wave of emotions from everyone around you, made you want to turn back, but your friends weren’t having it, telling you to “live a little”.

Taking interest, the four followed your little group into the music shop you all piled into. Your friends are going towards the pop section while you are heading towards classical and alternative. You weaved your way through, avoiding any kind of accidental contact with the other customers. Being an empath was difficult already, touching someone made the emotion even stronger and that made you a little squeamish.

Keeping yourself busy, you leafed through the records, not noticing the group of vampires stalking up behind you. It was only until one of the blondes, who you would find out named Paul, casually draped an arm over your shoulder, leaning into you and speaking into your ear did you jump in surprise. You were surrounded on all sides, by four very handsome boys around your age.

Of course, not only being surrounded by them makes you turn beet red, but the overwhelming feeling of pure, unfiltered lust transferred from Paul to you. And you weren’t just feeling it from him. You felt similar emotions from the others, but there was a strange feeling or desire underneath it all? Almost like a hunger? You couldn’t really place it. But nonetheless it hit you like a tidal wave from how strong their emotions were. Just from that alone told you that they weren’t normal.

You felt like prey under their gaze and your friends urging you to have some more fun, did nothing to help your situation. If anything they encouraged the boys to steal you away into the night. You rarely went out so they didn’t see the harm.

Much to your luck, for which it seemed to have left you, the boys practically hung off of you, touching you at any chance they got. The only one that seemed to back off was Dwayne. He noticed pretty quickly that you weren’t used to touch or didn’t like it per se. He also thought it was a little weird that whenever he touched you, a little bit of anxiety crept it’s way into his mind.

By the end of the night, much to your surprise, they all sort of didn’t touch you as much, but they did also help you loosen up a little. They showed you around the boardwalk since you revealed that you never stepped foot on it before. They brought you around the shops, to which Marko would ask questions about your fashion choice. He’s never seen anyone wear what you wear and it made you blush when he said that he liked the look, but only on you.

You went on a couple of the less intense rides, of which David was a very smug bastard when you suddenly clung to him after one of the spinning rides they brought you on. It wasn’t something you normally did and that's when David felt what Dwayne did. A little bit of fear crept in. Your touch did something to him, and that’s when he decided that you weren’t going to be their next meal. (He would never admit it, but he decided not to kill you long before that)

That night, the boys didn’t walk away with a meal, but they did walk away with your number and where you went to school. And they were definitely going to make visits.

Weeks go by from that night, and within those weeks, the boys showed up at your campus almost every night following. You thought it was weird in the beginning, but you warmed up to them and even started to like them… like… really like them. And that terrified you. But when all four admitted their feelings, having the desire to date you, you were happy to take them up on their offer.

When you told them you never really dated nor were you really comfortable with PDA or weren’t a touchy person. Which was a little bit of a lie, you craved physical touch but it always seemed to bite you in the ass so you had to force yourself to stop.

But from that information, the boys seemed to deflate a little, upset that they couldn’t be touchy or overly physical with you. The ones that took it the hardest were Paul and Marko… mostly Paul. He practically had to beg you just to hold his hand.

Aside from that, while dating you, the boys were very different in their ways of showing you affection. David never made a huge deal about PDA. Yes, he wanted to hold you just a little on the boardwalk. Yes, he wanted to be able to kiss you in public, but he respected that PDA made you a little uncomfortable and backed off a little. The most he did in public was a kiss on the cheek when nobody was looking or rubbing your back to calm you down while out.

He was also one out of the two who stayed in with you the most. Mostly it would be him sneaking into your dorms, making himself at home in your bed as you work on assignments or just wanting to stay in and maybe watch a few movies if you were in the mood. Some nights he would be able to get you to sit in between his legs as you worked, peaking over your shoulder, watching as your brain worked away. It was those moments that got him worked up and you knew about it. Seeing you work your hardest did something to him, and it made you a nervous, flustered mess which turned him on even more.

Of course, David being David, he was the first one of the boys to actually make out with you. Your emotions you could handle, but his dominating nature and equally dominating emotions sent you into a dizzy state. It was so much that you practically became putty in his hands. And he enjoyed it very much.

Marko, oh boy, did he practically give you a heart attack almost everyday. He was a little devil and would sneak into your dorm when you weren’t even there. He would go through your stuff while you were in class and when you would come back, you would find him scribbling and sketching stuff in one of your journals that you hid away with some of your personal writing.

You would even question him on how he got up to your room. You needed keys and your dorm was on the third floor of the building you were in. He would always just shrug with a smile and just tell you he has his ways. Though every time he did that, you noticed that your window would always be unlocked. Maybe you just forgot to relock it a couple times?

Not that Marko didn’t love your fashion, it was different, unique, it was you. But he did have fun getting you to try things that him and the other boys usually wore. It was always a fight, not really, to get you out so Marko could have fun picking out clothes for you. You hated getting clothes on your own, and Marko always made you feel a bit more comfortable with the idea.

Marko is one of them who tries to get you out the most. Who wants to stay cooped up all day? Not him! And that means you're going out with him. No if’s, ands or buts! He dragged you everywhere, whether it be to the boardwalk or to a diner, or just some new place in general, you were going with him.

There are times when being an empath was hard as fuck around him, his chaotic nature sometimes effected you and on a handful of occasions you surprised the shit out of him when you did something out of character that matched him. But he loved how awkward you could be, how flustered you got made you unbelievably adorable to him and that’s what he loves.

Paul is the one that drives you almost insane from his emotions. This boy is either excited or horny. Or both. He loves physical affection so he unfortunately has to hold himself back a little. Yes, he’s upset about it but he doesn’t want to make you upset so he does it for you.

The amount of times this boy has been able to stay late at the dorm is insane. He once even stayed over a couple of times with the request of getting black out curtains for the day. It was a weird request but you got them. You honestly loved it when he stayed over. He would be asleep in your bed all day as you sat or laid next to him reading a book or even playing yourself in chess.

Paul, even though he wanted to go out a lot, was pretty good in what places you would like best or you preferred to stay away from. He once took you to an empty parking lot to step away from all your school stress. Having nobody but yours and his emotions was nice. He sometimes was the best at making you relaxed when you had bad anxiety.

When Paul tries to take things one step further, it gets you all hot and bothered and sometimes you just want his overflowing emotion of lust to just burst so you wouldn’t have to be anticipating it for so long. Multiple times he’s been able to makeout with you in some of the empty classrooms at your school or in the back of the library, almost getting caught in the process.

Dwayne. Sweet Dwayne would almost follow you around everywhere if you asked. He found everything about you interesting. He took the time to listen to your studies and even helped you with your work here and there. Not that any of the other boys didn’t take interest, but Dwayne was pretty much getting an education through you. Learn and spend time with his partner? He loved it.

He would mostly come onto your campus during your night classes. Meeting right outside the class and then the both of you going to the coffee shop that was open late on campus for a little date. He knew you didn’t like being surrounded by people so the two of you would always sit in a little corner in the back, having privacy. He would always walk you back and just spend the night with you.

Surprisingly, he was the first one to really cuddle with you. Actually cuddle with you. Being around Dwayne was easy. His emotions weren’t up and down, he was calm for the most part and just content with being with you. Because of that, without thinking, you sat in between his legs one night as he was laying on your bed and laid back against his chest, proofreading a paper. You smiled when you felt how happy he got, but he hid it with a soft smile, running his fingers in your hair.

Out of all your partners, Marko was the first one to learn of you being an empath. It was on one of your date nights when he got his first taste of it. Some surf nazi was harassing you and Marko being the protective boyfriend that he was, was ready to start a fight. Out of fear for your boyfriend's well-being, you immediately held him back and forced yourself into a calm state of mind, forcing your emotion onto him, telling him, repeating over and over for him to calm down. His anger immediately went away and he was beyond confused as you dragged him away from his attempt at starting a fight.

Let’s just say he looked at you in awe after explaining what you were to him. Never once has he ever heard of it, but he was very intrigued. He asked you loads of questions which some had you blushing. You were his socially anxious partner and you had power over peoples emotions. That’s awesome in his eyes.

The secret didn’t last much longer as he dragged you back to the cave so you could tell the others. And each had their own unique reaction to it.

Paul of course was on the same page as Marko. He thought it was cool. More than anything, when he found out that you felt that everything he did, he smirked and just asked if you felt every bit of how much he wanted you. You couldn’t lie and just nodded, too embarrassed to say more. Paul was your horny, excited boy and it made you turn red every time.

Dwayne wanted to learn more about it. How did you get it? Were you born with it? Was it difficult to control? You revealed everything. You were born an empath and sometimes it is a little difficult to control. Dwayne then finally understood why you didn’t touch them as much, you felt everything they did. It was already tough to deal with your own emotions, it would be hell to deal with four other people's emotions. But it also made him burst at the seams when you said you're able to be physical with him more because he’s not as wild as the other three.

David was ecstatic. Though he didn’t show it. He had a feeling you were different, he just didn’t think being an empath was your little secret. He saw it on the same level of mind manipulation, stuff that he did. They were both psychic abilities and you just need practice with them, good practice. He also couldn’t help poke at you, asking if you knew just how much he wanted to go some nights. He was smug as fuck when you said yes, wanting to shrink under his gaze.

It was pretty much that same night when they revealed what they were to you, a part of you was terrified, but the side that won was your love for your boys. Plus you were curious. There were these feelings of hunger you could never place being around them, and now you know.

Some time passed from that night and things changed in a good way. David started helping you with your ability, giving you tips and pointers and even turning some parts into your’s and his date night into mind games. He showed you that he could manipulate what people perceive as reality and encouraged you to practice controlling and feeling emotions of those around you. He would be so proud of you when you were able to turn an arrogant, cocky surf nazi into a blubbering mess one night with just a glance his way.

David was also never the best with romantic feelings, so you being an empath helped him a lot. He rarely ever said I love you to your face but you didn’t need him to, you felt every bit of his love towards you and you sent it right back to him, which would have put him in a good mood all night long.

With you getting even more control of your abilities, you could officially now block out others and just focus on your own, which meant you could be as affectionate as you wanted with your boys. Which meant making up a lot of lost cuddle time with Paul. Good luck to the others, cause this boy will drag you to his little nest and not let go of you for days.

It was during those times that you let your own emotions of love flow into him and you made him melt in your arms every time you did. Without a doubt he would still catch you off guard and make you a blushing mess. Especially with all his comments and suggestions on you two should fuck in an empty classroom or on the teachers desk after one of your night classes.

Marko will definitely join you and Paul on your cuddle sessions or steal you away. If anything, You help keep Marko calm and he really enjoys it when it’s just the two of you. You help him keep his anger in check most of the time but he will ask not to hold him back if he needs to defend you and his family. His anger is his strength, and he will need it.

Marko likes to see you play with people’s emotions just as much as David. He’s a little evil and likes to push you to your limits but also backs off if you need to stop or don’t want to do it.

Dwayne is curious. Again, a little more publicly affectionate than David but keeps a lot of that hidden for just the two of you. Sometimes he’ll let you dump some of your own emotions onto him, not wanting you to deal with stuff on your own.

Dwayne will also be telling you to take some of his own emotions so you can stay anxiety free during your exams or anything related to school.

Even more time passed and you finally finished up your year at college, of course you still had a year or two more left but the boys didn’t want you to be aging anymore. You were theirs and they were yours. Without hesitation, you said yes to turning into one of them. They not only loved you for you but they were there for you more than anyone else in your life. How could you say no?

Everyone in his friend group had stood out to you, but Nakajima Atsushi in particular had caught your attention right away. Not only from his weirdly chopped hair, dual coloured eyes and friendly looks, but also from the whirlwind of emotions you could feel beneath the surface of a boy who still seemed to need to learn so much about the world.

You almost had been scared by this, but he had been nice to you, and your interest eventually ended up in romantic interest- And now you were here, together, and regularly sleeping at eachother's apartments.

"Are you okay..?" You softly whispered, moving the blankets so you could move closer to your boyfriend, currently whimpering softly, his own blanket already having been kicked to the side. Still asleep. Still having a nightmare about events in the past.

Struggling to wake him up, you instead focused to let out a calming aura instead, the presence of it quickly making Atsushi still again. He woke up a minute or two after, still visibly shaken, but able to breathe.

------

Atsushi, eyes focused downwards, trailed the edges of his cup of tea with his fingers, searching for words as he waited for the drink to cool down.

"I.. I didn't mean to wake you, sorry." He tried a sheepish smile, though it didn't quite erase the frown he had been carrying on his features since he woke up. He felt bad. And he felt bad that he was feeling bad.

"I'd wake up ten times a night if it'd mean I could help you." you whispered, and Atsushi looked up, seeming like he just got tugged a bit more out of his current troubles. Right- He had more right now than then. More that he didn't want to lose.

Atsushi leaned in, lips lightly brushing against yours in a quick peck.

"Thank you."

You could practically feel the judgment pouring off of him in waves without looking at him. Groaning at your ruined relaxation, you rolled your head around to stare at him, quirking a brow. “Out with it.”

He mirrored your expression, although with much more disdain and arrogance than you could ever muster. “I beg your pardon.”

“I don’t need to go over there and touch you to know that you’re judging me. Spill it,” you muttered, sitting up and stretching, arching your back into it with a sigh you felt all the way down to your toes. You tugged your hoodie back down from where it had exposed just a sliver of the skin of your stomach, and Loki’s eyes quickly flitted from it back up to your face. Interesting.

“If you must know,” he closed his book, leaving it to rest on his lap, “I am honestly astonished that one could descend so far into a vegetative state without going comatose. I do not believe you have moved from that spot but to sleep or gather food in days.”

You stood, brushing cookie crumbs from your sweatpants absentmindedly. “And?”

“It is almost impressive, were it not such a waste. There is much to be done, and yet you are perfectly content to waste away watching others live their lives.”

As if he was one to talk, sitting there drinking his tea without a care in the world. “And what is there to be done exactly?”

“To begin, the decorations from Christmas and Hanukkah remain on display, and the kitchen is almost out of provisions,” he rattled off with a shrug.

Well, that second one certainly would need tending to. Normally the groceries were delivered twice a week from a food order that everyone contributed to, but you had forgotten about it when it hadn’t been brought to your attention. Perhaps a bit of fresh air would do you some good. You left the room without another word, quickly dressing and making yourself presentable to the public before coming back out into the living room with Loki’s wool pea coat draped over your arms.

“C’mon, Muscles. You can help me carry the groceries.” You held up his coat for him in invitation, shaking it lightly.

He rose, smoothing his hands down his white button-up shirt to come to a stop on his hips. There weren’t any wrinkles to be found on his outfit, but you would touch that body at any opportunity if given the chance, so who could blame him? “You expect me to accompany you to the market?”

You popped up a hip and mocked his rich, velvet accent that admittedly sent shivers of pleasure down your spine. “You expect to eat, don’t you?”

~

The once pristine glittering snow had morphed into a grey sludge that sucked at your feet with each step back from the store. Your hands were thrust out from your sides to maintain your tenuous balance as you trudged along behind Loki, who had taken the reusable bags full of food from you without protest excluding a well-executed roll of his dark eyes. His towering figure cut a path through the crowded New York City pedestrians who watched him with unabashed curiosity and trepidation as he passed. You were afforded mostly confusion as you inelegantly followed in his footsteps.

Until your foot slipped on a hidden patch of ice beneath the slurry, and a squeak of shock came from your throat as your hands flailed out wildly for something to grab onto. Concern rushed through you, strong and overwhelming, as Loki’s hands grasped yours to keep you from falling. When you looked up to him in grateful shock, and your eyes locked, tendrils of desire snaked out from his heart to wrap around yours and squeeze with the barest of heat. There wasn’t any mistaking the feelings he had at that moment, no matter how fleeting, and you both knew it.

“Thanks,” you murmured, awestruck in the face of such intense emotions that Loki worked to keep hidden.

He jerked back from you as if you had burned him, picking up the bags he had forgotten in his haste to help you. “Do not mention it. Come. I’m famished and you obviously are not suited for this weather.”

~

“Is this absolutely necessary?”

You looked up from where you kneaded the flour-covered dough against the countertop, jaw set in determination as you leaned into your work. “It tastes better when you make it from scratch. I figured someone with your impressive knife skills wouldn’t find it challenging to chop a bit of garlic and tomatoes for a simple pasta sauce. If I’m mistaken…”

Loki bristled, his eyes tightening as he made quick work of unbuttoning his sleeves before rolling them up the pale expanse of his arms. “I am quite capable of performing such a menial task.”

You dropped your gaze to the exposed skin, delighting silently in the flex of his forearms as he set to work doing as you had asked. It was quiet, calming, to work together in the kitchen. The rhythmic sound of his knife hitting the wooden cutting board timed with your rolling and kneading the pasta dough was almost musical, working with the pulse pounding in your ears at such a domestic scene to keep you very alert.

Not too alert, apparently, as when you began to cut the long floured noodles from your rolled sheet of dough, you managed to slice the pad of your index finger.

“Shit!” you cursed, dropping the knife and pulling the bleeding digit into your mouth. You quickly checked to make sure you hadn’t ruined the dough, eyes darting around the room for something to staunch the bleeding.

“Let me see,” Loki commanded quietly from behind you.

You turned to him to see his hands held out for yours, exasperation written into the firm set of his mouth. “You don’t have to touch me. It’s okay.”

“Let me see,” he repeated, gently encircling your wrist with his long, elegant fingers, pulling your finger from in between your lips.

There was that concern again, warm and soft as it wrapped around you like a blanket from where his hands deftly worked at cleaning and wrapping your hand in a band-aid. You weren’t used to people touching you, not of their own accord, not once they knew that you could feel their every emotion through the connection. It was an invasion of privacy, and more than that, it was opening them up to the possibility of you pushing certain feelings onto them - an aspect of your powers that you never used unless in dire situations on missions.

You would never do that to Loki, even with the desire that unfurled deep within your belly as you watched his calculated emerald eyes admire his handiwork. Anything that he felt, you wanted it to be authentic and coming only from him. Which was why the affection that teased just at the edges of your awareness made your breath catch in your throat, and your gaze drop to his lips as he wetted them with a flick of his tongue.

“Loki, I-”

“Perhaps I should finish the rest of the meal, so you do not risk ruining the pasta with your blood,” he commented dryly, leaving you empty as he released you from his hold.

You cradled your hand to your chest as if you could still feel the affection he had unwittingly shared on the stinging skin. “Of course. Just do what I was doing, without the stabbing part.”

~

You should’ve worn gloves for the party. Or perhaps a dress with sleeves.

The combination of so many bodies jostling around you, leaving you with just flashes of humor, lust, frustration, anger, sadness, and so many more emotions that you couldn’t name but could taste on your tongue, was too much. Tony had gone all out with the guest list for the New Year’s Eve party, and you felt positively ill at so many sensations washing over you in time with the pounding music and conflicting colognes and perfumes invading your nose.

The frigid wind on the balcony was a welcome breather, whipping around you and electrifying your senses to remove the lasting negative effects of the others from your person. Until you were just you again, as conflicted and frustrated as ever as you thought about Loki and Thor chatting amiably with amiably inside. The countdown was due to begin soon, and you didn’t want to see who the dark god paired off with to welcome in the new year with a kiss. That was one mental image you were perfectly content not to have engraved in your brain for the foreseeable future.

“The party not to your liking?”

Your chin lifted from where it had settled on your chest to watch the crowds below, all packed together and shouting their revelry into the abyss that climbed up the tower windows to reach your cold-reddened ears. “I didn’t realize it would be that crowded, and I’m not wearing sleeves.”

A coat, woolen and heavy and scented with cedarwood and spice settled over your shoulders to block the worst of the cutting wind. Your arms unraveled from around your waist to grip onto the lapels, holding Loki’s coat tighter to you. Loki stepped into your line of sight, regarding you with an unreadable expression as he leaned against the safety rail as if he wasn’t several hundred feet in the air. “That was poor planning on your part.”

“Yeah, but I look good in this dress,” you replied with a humorless laugh, swinging your hips back and forth as it to prove the point.

“You do,” was his warm reply, matching the slight upturn of the corner of his mouth as his eyes trailed down the length of your body slowly.

What you wouldn’t give to know the feelings behind that look, but you wouldn’t ever invade his privacy in that way. Not without permission. Thankfully, the cold air already turned the tip of your nose red and flushed your cheeks, otherwise the effect his searching gaze and thoughtful gesture would be much more clear. “Thanks for the coat. You always seem to be stepping up to help me, lately.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he replied in that crushed velvet voice that had just a hint of roughness to it as he took one step closer to you.

The crowd down below began counting down. You could barely hear the numbers over the roar of the wind in your ears and the pounding of your heart as Loki shielded your body from the cold with his own. His hands came up to settle over your upper arms, rubbing the soft satin lining of his coat into your skin.

And your eyes fluttered closed just before his lips brushed against yours at the last second. Love unlike anything you’d ever felt before matched the caress of his smooth lips over yours, catching in your heart and coaxing out a warm glow of happiness that you weren’t sure began or ended with the man cradling you in his arms. It was untainted by darkness, driven from the purest sense of adoration and affection that you had experienced from another soul.

His forehead rested against yours once he allowed you a moment to breathe, quite kind of him after having stolen the very breath from your lungs. Hope, sharp and bright, teased out from him and into you to make your fingers curl into his black suit jacket. “I am not one to easily speak my emotions freely with others. But you must know…”

You nudged your nose along his, your heart soaring at the physical contact and the shared joy that danced between you to the tune of your drumming heartbeats. “I do. You can’t exactly hide that from me.”

He gathered you into the warmth of his embrace, tucking your forehead beneath his chin with a relieved sigh. It was safety and contentment and promise and a love so new and bright that you hoped to never find its shadow. “No more hiding. Not in this new year.”

~~~

Little Bit o’ Loki taglist: @myownviperroom @grahoundart @darealbellabelleoftheball @boubouinscarlet @iamverity @rt8815 @lots-of-loki @otakumultimuseoc @ms-cellanies @rosierossette

Your childhood memory could be whittled down to a series of chairs. Plastic chairs that stick to your bare legs in the summer. Metal seats that scrape and drag across the tile. Sometimes you’d get nice, soft chairs, or a couch to hang out on. Those typically turned into naps.

It was during one of these memories in a spinning chair that you started to feel. The secretary you’ve been plopped next took one glance and went back to her computer. Her annoyance was coming off from her like a horrible smell. Every click on the keyboard was like a gunshot right to your temple. Just made worse by watching her; click click click she’s banging into your head. Something had to be said…

“There’s magazines by the couch, why don’t you go read them?” She suddenly orders with a quick spin of her chair.

The verbal slap took you from the chair and onto the couch. Your feet hit the ground maybe twice, practically jumping onto the couch. This sending another hit of annoyance right to your head; eyes closing against it until the secretary looked away.

Those magazines did little to help with all the new feelings. Being further away from her helped with annoyance but now frustration was rearing its ugly head. Frustration and a lie bursting through your system with colors that’d make a sunset jealous. No amount of staring at articles and pictures of people way richer than you could get rid the emotions.

With both hands on either side of your head it was only a matter of seconds before Mama Moira appears kneeling in front of you. Snapping at the secretary to reschedule everything and that they are not done just yet.

“I’m sorry,” you had muttered in the car.

“It’s okay, they weren’t going to give me anything. Lawsuit threats will do that.” She says, a gentle hand rubbing your back.

“They’re threatening you?” You ask.

“It’s more like an,” she pauses to think how to best explain. Her hand pausing in it’s movements as she things. “it’s an aggressive suggestion. Nothing to worry about, Sweetie.”

“I think they were lying, though.” This idea was coming out of your mouth before you stop it. The soft hand of comfort has that power. “They’re lying about law suiting you.”

“You try calling that bluff with a lawyer next to you,” She says, pulling her hand away. “Oh, Sweetie, could you hear through the door? I’m so sorry.”

“No, I mean-I couldn’t hear. I just know they’re lying, mom.”

“How could know that?”

“I just do, okay.”

Moira was one of those rare mothers who wasn’t going to dig and dig for info you couldn’t give. Instead she focused on the road ahead of her, both physically and metaphorically. Mentally listing off all the people she could pay or guilt trip into watching you.

Whether you looked like her or not Moira was your mother, you just happened to be the question baby. Someone she loved more than anything but also an ironic reminder of her memory loss. In the interest of saving time she didn’t dwell on it too long, now just living with the new nickname of ‘Mama Moira.’

Moira never outright said what happened after following your advice. Only that your babysitter lasted for a single night, then you were back in a chair. This time sitting in the room just a few feet behind your mother. Staring at magazines while trying to feel something you didn’t really understand.

0-0-0

The closest Charles got to looking through a hospital window at his child was cerebro. The first was just to check up: How were you doing? Healthy? Happy? Back then you were just a baby staring at space. Sometimes into Moira’s face who would either coo or talk to you like a colleague. Asking for a baby’s opinion on whether there were any typos in her report.

He never really learned whether she did fix those typos. Over the years you became just another one of his children. A blue bundle of stars in cerebro that grew every time he searched for the others. Teachers and students came and became part of the school as your chairs were moved inside the meetings.

Once or twice he sat in on those meetings with you. Setting just on the edge of your mind without intruding on any secrets. Just enough to taste your empathy, and see your legs swinging while on sitting on those chairs. The unexpected consequence of his check ins came from the emotions connected to his brain.

A warmer, cool blue of pride that’s felt in your head without seeing who it was coming from. Typically, these stupid emotions came off strongest from the person closest to you. The closest was a woman whispering into another woman’s ear. She was like you, someone sitting just behind the action. Briefly mentioned as the translator, she wrote and spoke quietly.

Focusing solely on her and the blue faded in exchange for a mix of orange from fear and green from focus. Green was so overbearing only the slightest hint of anything else showed, and only when she was listening and writing. No hint of blue to be found.

Focusing on the others and the color could be found there sometimes. But those gave off a darker color blue then the cooler one. These were cocky, proud of themselves. They’d bleed into red when Mama Moira a certain thing, and then into fear. Sometimes into a silver lie, and those were the ones you had to remember. The rest you just had to try your best to not completely forget.

The cool blue color was easy to forget about over the years. It was just one of a rainbow of colors you were forced to learn about through your short life. From chair to chair they ranged and changed; little books filled with charts that became meaningless as more colors were added.

More chairs, more colors. One even being a helicopter, where you were supposed to be ease dropping on the emotions of your guide. Instead you were distracted by the many controls and buttons that somehow made sense to the woman behind the controls.

Although that woman was beaming a blue pride (probably from having a curious child audience) the cool blue wasn’t seen anywhere. By that point you had all but forgot about it. The curiosity only lasted as long as that first meeting had.

It was completely opposite on Charles’s end. It’s harder to forget someone when you actually know who they are. He was a father by nature; a figure to every student who has ever come into the school. They were just as much his children as you were. Seeing a bit of you, of your potential, in every one of them.

That bit hope lasted through finally being able to use his status to teach. It lasted through the adjustment to life in the chair and the care of students. It stretched into the draft when the first of the teachers began to meekly come into his office with sincere apologies. Men being called in and woman called home to help with the absents. He saw you in them too, less happily this time.

Hope began to starve after they were gone. When somewhere in the background Hank McCoy fiddles with a vial but doesn’t offer it just yet. When the school’s doors closed, and cerebro’s opened. Not searching for the children he has already lost, but the one he never forgot.

0-0-0

It’s hard to say what exactly broke the camel’s back. You’ve gotten used to keeping your sensitivity a secret. Mama Moira was open about there being others like you out there. She was open that they could be dangerous, and that you just weren’t ready yet.

Actually, it’s not that hard to find the trigger. Someone left out the wrong file and there it was: Charles Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters. Just a name and a few mentions of ‘mutant’ underlined. The poor, dumb, assistant who left it out ripping it from your hands before anything else could be read. Even with that little amount of information things started to bend.

They completely broke when Mama Moira went away. A mission where her little lie detector would be in too much danger. Instead letting one of the younger researchers play babysitter. A nice woman who saw nothing wrong with answering the questions of the curious office child. Not noticing that among the questions of what books you’re allowed there was another questions about files.

Maybe with the files you should have grabbed something about helicopters.

That nice pilot woman had become one of your favorite sitters. Letting you sit next to her during rides, showing the pedals and how to work the joystick.

The lift off was the hard part. This was the mantra working through your head over and over while trying to remember the steps. Hold the joystick, play with the peddles. Oh, snap, was it actually lifting off the ground?

Riding a helicopters as it leaves the ground is one thing. Leaving the ground, knowing that whether you fly, or crash was all up to you, was an entirely different feeling. One that turned your mantra to ‘oh no, oh no, oh no’.

“Lower the throttle, get back on the ground,” orange yellow of fear suddenly slapped the sense from you. It was coming from a voice that certainly wasn’t there a few seconds ago. “It’s okay, I’m a friend. Just go slow.”

Although he is in your peripheral vision it’s impressive that you didn’t whip around to look. Your own shock and his calmed voice making landing the only thing important. Although his voice is right next to your ear there is no change in the air at his presence. Half expecting a guiding hand to be placed on your shoulder while trying to land.

The helicopter is heavy when landing. Worse then when you lifted off the ground. An equally heavy thunk announced you’re landing safely. As safely as can be given the situation.

“Why would you try this?” The man asks.

Completely turning in the pilot’s chair you can finally look at the man. White male, average height. Long brown hair and serious scruff this side of a beard. Everything about him can be described down into a file. A file that Mama Moira has more then once left out in kid’s reach.

“Are you Professor Charles Xavier?” You ask.

“You’re not answering my question.”

“And you’re not answering mine,”

He takes a second to swallow. “Yes, I’m Charles Xavier.”

“Professor Charles-?”

“Just-I’m just Charles Xavier.” He corrects before you’re able to finish. Yellow of annoyance is mixing with the orange of fear. More yellow then orange is coming out. “Why would you try something like this? Why are you putting yourself in danger?”

Being scolded like this was keeping you in, yet another, chair.

“I’m different. Like you, like the others kinda different. She says I can’t talk about it to anyone.” Charles did not need to be a mind reader to know you were referring to Moira. “I don’t belong here; I belong with you guys.”

“Why a helicopter? Why not a car?” He asks.

“I don’t know how to drive.”

It’s like watching a computer boot up. He starts by pressing his lips together and then laughing softly. Putting his head down into his hands, his body shaking a little as he softly. If it weren’t for the blue you’ve only seen a handful of times you’d assume he was crying.

It takes a second to collect himself enough to speak again. “You can’t-you can’t fly a helicopter, either.” He sputters out, laughing back into his hands.

“It was flying, I was flying it.” You didn’t really know this man, not really. His emotions were familiar, and his face was in the file. But now he was just some guy laughing at you.

“Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry,” He says. Coughing away one last laugh. “I just can’t understand your thought process about leaving.”

At some point you were going to have to explain yourself to somebody. In the event that you were caught before take off you’d stay quiet until Mama Moira came back. If you had been injured by hitting the wrong button and crashed the helicopter, you’d play the part of the poor curious child. Now, if the plan had completely succeeded and you made it to the mansion? That was a plan you had yet to make. Probably try and wing it.

Now that you were expected to explain everything in a manner of seconds everything was coming up blank. You have already the gist out, but where were the details?

“I’ve seen what you’ve already done for your mother; how you’ve helped her and this entire base. You don’t need to leave.” He says when you don’t respond.

“I don’t belong here,” It’s a reiteration of your most important point.

He’s two different shades of blue listening to you. The first blue of pride that was slapped back into the forefront of your memory and a second one. The second was pale, almost clear, a kind of sadness that you wouldn’t be able to understand enough to describe until you’re older. This blue hurt to pay too much attention to, tears peaking at your eyes from being too close. It’s better to stay by the first blue.

This color was a representation of an A plus report card brought home after nights at the kitchen table. It was what made the slight curve in his mouth nearing towards a smile. It reflected back onto you, bringing a smile that Charles saw and made his own expression drop.

“You don’t belong at the school, either. There’s no one there, it’s closed.” He confesses.

“What?” You asked.

“Everything is gone. There’s no one in the mansion anymore, it’s abandoned. Everyone has left.” He says this as the pale blue of sadness takes over the pride.

Your plan to land and become part of the mansion took an odd turn after hearing this. Instead thinking about what might have happened if your plan had completed. Landing at the mansion just to find no one there. It would have been heartbreaking to find the mansion without anyone there. How long would you have stayed before giving up?

When you don’t say anything he walks forward, talking calmly. “Your mother is a good woman. The best thing for you is to stay here. There is nothing for you with me.”

“Why are you here then?” You say this as a demand instead of a plea. Standing up to stare him in the eyes.