#(TUMBLR NEVER SHOWED ME THIS ASK UNTIL TODAY UNBELIEVABLE)

[heartoferebor]

A very Happy Name Day, kind one. May you have another year filled with senior citizens of the desirable nature.

Thank you kindly o slutty one - I do indeed hope to have ample opportunity to continuously objectify the elderly in scandalous ways.

🙏

[bonnyskies]

deadly agenda ⇢ myg

min yoongi is a dangerous man. you’re a manipulative wife. together, you two are a deadly duo, and you both have your own agenda.

pairing — emperor!yoongi x wife!malereader ft. king-husband!taehyung

genres — angst, sexual themes, royalty!au, strangers-to-lovers!au

warnings — age-gap (reader is 20, yoongi is 28), swearing, degrading terms, mentions of death, feminization, descriptions of murder, sexual themes, infidelity, betrayal, slight voyeurism, yoongi is intimidating and reader is manipulative, basically they’re just plain evil

author’s note — i hate tumblr’s new update. i had more to write (not enough for a part two) but couldn’t because of the new 250 text box rule. but as for this story, this is probably the longest one i’ve written so far and the one i’m most proud of. anyway, hope you all enjoy and sorry for taking so long to upload this, took lots of planning and rewriting, plus i’ve been busy with school too.

word count — 7.4k

masterlist

Min Yoongi is a cautious, yet observant man.

Whoever steps foot in his palace, he makes sure to know everything about them. Who they are, they’re background, appearance, and how they approach him. Each and every thing can help him learn who he can trust, and who he cannot, who are his allies—and who are his enemies.

Yoongi stood by his palace’s entrance, accompanied with his guards and greeted his special guests, one by one as they walked up his home’s grand steps. He makes sure to take notes on each and every person’s facial expression, their appearance, chosen attire, and the certain way they walk up to him.

Anything could benefit him into knowing them. Their wealth and clan can be identified based on their specific appearance and choice of clothing. Their facial expressions help him learn what their true feelings and intentions are towards him that are hidden by their fake smiles and words. And lastly, the way they walk up to him can help him know the type of personality they have, whether that be obedient and innocent, or arrogant and untrustworthy.

The way he learns about his guests have never failed him. That was, until he met you.

Yoongi would be lying if he said he wasn’t astonished when his eyes laid on you for the first time. There were many things that left him utterly speechless when meeting you. For one, when his advisor told him that his guest would be bringing his wife, he was expecting a woman—not a man.

Another thing that left Yoongi speechless was your appearance, mostly your attire. You were dressed in feminine-like clothing, silk robes that were decorated with gold jewelry instead of fine material clothing with armor plating like what many men of royalty wear. And you also didn’t hold a blade like most men do too. Instead, you held a simple wooden decorative fan.

And lastly, your eyes.

Yoongi has a remarkable judge of character. Maybe not as good when it came to you, but still adequate. On the outside, your eyes were shining with gentleness and a kind greeting. But he could tell there was something else hidden behind them—something that left him intrigued by you.

You had an agenda—plans, and Yoongi was determined to find out what they are.

The welcoming feast was extremely dull.

Yoongi absorbed gallons of wine into his system, hoping that would help numb his mind and get through the rest of the evening without having to tear somebody’s head off from their body.

And apparently you thought the same as he did. Across the table, Yoongi watched as you fanned yourself out of boredom while everyone else were socializing with one another, an unamused facial expression shown on your face. Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle behind his glass when seeing one of the other wives say something to you and you flashed her a quick smile before dropping it back down into a straight line.

It seems his attention on you didn’t go unnotice because next thing he knew, your eyes were now on him. Yoongi was expecting hints of disgust or uncomfort from you, but instead he was met with sly smirk and a raised brow.

Yoongi watches intently as you leaned over and whispered into your husband’s ear. Your husband—Kim Taehyung then stood up from his seat and bowed his head, “Excuse me, your Majesty.”

Yoongi turned his head towards your husband, diverting his attention completely away from you.

“My wife is not feeling well at the moment, so with your permission, would it be alright if he can take his leave from the feast early?”

The entire dining hall fell silent, shocked expressions plastered on everyone’s faces at the table.

Nobody has ever dared to leave one of Min Yoongi’s feasts before. Who would want to, right? It’s considered a great honor for one self and their kingdom to be invited by the Emperor himself to attend one of his events.

Whispers began to spread amongst the guests.

“How shameless is Kim Taehyung’s wife?”

“Wanting to leave the Emperor’s feast early? Utterly shameless I tell you.”

“That Taehyung needs to discipline his wife.”

“Doesn’t he know how important his Majesty’s events are? And he wants to leave just because he isn’t feeling well? Unbelievable.”

“He needs to learn some manners—”

Anxiety swept across Taehyung’s face when hearing the gossips coming from the other royals, eyes wide and mouth gaped open with panic. “Forgive me, your Majesty, I never intended to—”

With just the clear of his throat, everybody fell silent once again and all eyes were now on him. Yoongi’s gaze would shift between you and your husband, curiosity filling his veins when noticing that there wasn’t any signs of illness presently visible on you. You weren’t trembling, your eyes weren’t red and skin wasn’t showing any signs of flushness. You looked fine.

That only caused more questions to form in Yoongi’s mind. Like, what do you exactly want, and what is your reason for being here? Because according to his advisor, you weren’t even part of the guest list until today. That only raised even more suspicions he had towards you.

And it’s not like he can just throw you out—actually, he can. It’s just that he doesn’t want to because now he’s curious, and he wants to see how things turn out.

“He can go,” Yoongi says a brief silence, immediately noticing the small smile creeping onto your lips. “But take him to see the physician and let him check him out,” and then it dropped.

“N-No, your Majesty,” you spoke up, lips parted. “You don’t have to do that—”

“You’re feeling unwell, right?” Yoongi then asks, smirking at the silence he got in reply. “Well, you should let my physician diagnose you then. Don’t worry though, you’re in great hands.”

One of his guards that stood by his side approached you and started to guide you to the physician’s office. And while you were leaving, Yoongi could see the glare coming from you and aimed right at him.

If you wanted to play games with him, he’ll play.

Wandering through the palace halls at night was something Yoongi usually does whenever he can’t sleep.

And apparently you had the same tendency too.

While mindlessly strolling through his palace’s hallways, Yoongi’s eyes suddenly landed on your approaching figure, the first thing catching his attention was your choice of clothing. You were dressed in golden inner robes, your sleep-wear, and the material was so thin and transparent that every feature about you was visible to him. The sight of your clear, smooth skin and every curve of your body and muscles made his mouth water. It was like you were purposely dressed like that to seduce him.

Another thing that caught his eye was the small, slightly torn grayish book that was in your grasp, which was where your complete attention was on because you still haven’t noticed his presence despite the two of you walking towards the other.

“Hello, your Highness,” you jumped out of fear, eyes wide and closing your book when your gaze landed on him. “May I ask why you are wandering around my palace this late at night?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you simply answered, fingers tight around the cover the book, which only made Yoongi even more curious as to what you were exactly reading. “And it seems you are having the same problem as well, am I correct?”

Yoongi only hummed in reply, taking another small step towards you until you two now stood only inchest apart, him towering over you and staring down right at you. “Is there something wrong with your chambers? I can tell my servants to move you and your husband into a more comfortable place for you—”

“No no, your Majesty,” you were quick to interject. “Everything is perfect. It’s just that I’ve always had trouble sleeping at another royal’s residence, that’s all.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but find your reason funny, because he has always had trouble sleeping when there were other people staying in his palace.

A brief silence came between you two before Yoongi spoke up once again, “I’ll be taking a quick walk around my garden, you can accompany me if you like.” He didn’t wait for your reply before leaving, but when hearing the sound of your footsteps behind him right after, a smirk grew on his lips.

“You know, you never really introduced yourself when we first met,” Yoongi then brought up while the two of you made your way to the gardens.

“Forgive me, your Majesty,” you bowed your head apologetically before replying, “My name is ___, Kim ___.”

“It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Kim ___,” Yoongi reached down and took your hand into his, pressing a soft, yet tender kiss on the back of your palm, smirking at the evident blush forming on your cheeks. “And I’ve got to say, you are looking quite well for someone that claimed to be feeling sick not even three hours ago,” and that is when your smile dropped.

“Must’ve been my anxiety,” you were quick to reply back, your eyes never leaving his. “After all, I am staying at the Emperor’s palace for the first time.”

Yoongi was impressed honestly, he had to admit. For everything he had to say against you, you had something say right back at him. There isn’t a lot of people who have that type of skill to think of words—believeable words right on the spot. Anybody would believe what you were saying—too bad he isn’t just anybody.

“Must be...,” Yoongi just says, eyeing you slightly. His gaze then shifted onto the book in your hand. “What are you reading there?”

“Oh this,” you held the book up, “It’s called Flowers of the Region—a guide to every type of flower that is grown and can be found in both the South and the North. It’s my favorite book.”

“Well, that’s fortunate,” Yoongi points out, “you like flowers, and we so happen to be going to my garden. What’s your favorite flower?”

“Lily of the Valley,” you answer with a smile. “Have you heard of it?”

“I have,” Yoongi replied, his interest towards you growing even more. Lily of the Valley, despite the beautiful features of the white flower, it is proven to be quite deadly when digested. “They are only found on top of the Southern mountains—but lucky for you, I happen to grow them right here in my garden.”

Your smile grew even wider. “That’s great.”

The rest of the walk to the gardens was in silence with you trailing forward while Yoongi stood back. And with your eyes focused on the path in front of you, Yoongi couldn’t help but send glances at you every once in a while, his eyes burning into your back, admiring at the clear view your smooth skin through the thin, transparent material of your inner robes.

He surely needs to give whoever crafted your sleepwear a raise—and a big one too.

When the two of you finally got to the gardens, you were left instantly speechless at the sight of the many plots of different flowers, ranging from beautiful, vibrant ones that were quite common to dark, mysterious ones that you’ve never even seen before.

Yoongi couldn’t deny how adorable you looked though when seeing his garden for the first time, eyes wide, shining with admiration and your mouth gaped open.

“This is beautiful,” you gasped, leaning down and running your fingers delicately over some flowers.

“Thank you,” Yoongi stood beside you, “I make sure my gardeners take good care of this place.”

Silenced filled the atmosphere as Yoongi stood back and silently watched you admiring the many flowers. Normally he’d be annoyed for someone touching his property, but for some odd reason when it came to you he didn’t mind so much. Perhaps it’s because this might be the only way for him to get close to you and learn about your true intentions—or maybe he just really wants to fuck you.

Yoongi found himself once again staring at you, watching as you bent over to get a closer look at one of the flowers, giving him a perfect view of your ass and hips, both in which he wants to grab and caress with his large hands.

“So,” Yoongi spoke up after some silence, “how exactly did you become the new Lady Kim?”

Yoongi instantly noticed the way your body tensed from his question. “I was his Highness’s personal servant. When his wife suddenly passed away, he was a complete mess and I was the only one that stayed by his side through the entire mourning process. I was the one that comforted him whenever he was feeling down, I made sure he was taking care of himself and helped him with his royal duties.”

Yoongi then noticed your shoulder slumping. “After about a month or so, he started seeking me for a...different kind of comfort.” Sex. “Soon later he decided to make his new wife—the new Lady Kim.”

“You don’t seem so happy about the change in position,” Yoongi commented, “I’m sure this is much better than being a simple servant. You’re a royal now.”

“Oh, I am,” you quickly corrected him, “But being a man and having a feminine title can sometimes make things complicated.”

“Well then, don’t make them complicated.” Yoongi suggested, “You’re not a servant anymore, you’re a royal. They may not respect you now, but you have the power to make them do so.”

“Don’t worry, I know,” you told him sternly. “They’ll learn to respect me. Whether that be the hard way or the easy way—it’s their choice. So you better watch out, your Majesty, or something bad might happen to you,” you laughed softly.

Yoongi released a forceful chuckle, eyes briefly squinting at you suspiciously. It may have sound like a harmless joke, but to him, he could hear the small hints of truth behind them. “Oh trust me, I will. I wouldn’t want you as an enemy.”

“And you as well,” you replied, eyeing him back.

Silence came between you two again, Yoongi leaving you to inspect his garden in peace while he stood back and watched you. It wasn’t until an hour has passed you spoke up again, yawning, “we should head back to bed, your Majesty. We have that conference in the morning with the other royals and we need the energy.”

“You’re right,” Yoongi agreed, nodding and stepping aside so that you could walk ahead of him and back inside the place with him following right beside you. “Let me walk you back to your room.”

You didn’t say anything, only held your head low to hide the small grin on your face as the both of you made your back to the chambers. And as you two got closer to your destination, you both were froze at the sound of moaning.

Yoongi was confused at first as who it could be, but when turning to you and seeing the hardened expression on your face, he knew.

“O-Oh, Taehyung—f-faster, please!”

Yoongi was speechless. He knew many royals took on concubines while being married, but he didn’t know someone could so shameless as to bringing them to another person’s residence alongside their spouse. “Your Highness—”

“Don’t bother, your Majesty,” you spoke calmly, eyes hard and emotionless. “I’m use to it by now and it doesn’t really bother me anymore.”

“Really, it doesn’t?”

You shook your head. “At first it did, but after sleeping with my husband so many times I have learned that the only person he cares to satisfy is himself.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle. What kind of husband doesn’t have the desire to satisfy is own wife? Maybe he should take you to his chambers and show you exactly what you’re missing. “Well, I-I’m still sorry for you.”

You simply shrugged your shoulders, “it doesn’t matter, your Majesty. Have a good night.”

Yoongi watched as you then opened the door went inside the chamber, causing your husband and the woman to stop and look at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t mind me,” you said to them, not even bothering to glance at them, shocking Yoongi. “I’ll be on the balcony reading my book. Just let me when you two are done.”

Taehyung’s attention instantly went back to the woman that was straddling his lap when hearing your words, hands kneading her breasts and hips and started thrusting back up into her, causing moans to erupt from both of them. Yoongi didn’t why, but the sight of them made his blood boil.

Maybe he should go in there and fuck you in front of your husband? That’ll show him what he is missing out.

Yoongi continued to watch through the crack in the door as you walked past the couple and went onto the balcony. And once you were out of his sight, that’s when he finally got a clear view of the woman on your husband’s lap, and he instantly recognized her. She was one of the servants that accompanied you and Taehyung here. Yoongi distinctly remembered seeing her earlier today, serving you tea after you got back from seeing the physician.

Yoongi glared at the couple, scoffing at the sight. What did that Kim Taehyung see in that whore of a servant that you don’t have?

You are far more enticing than she is.

Taking one last glance at the shameless couple, Yoongi retreated back to his chambers. And while he did so, his mind suddenly went back to you. How did someone so...unique end up with a man like Kim Taehyung? He’s a weak person, a shame to royal blood. You deserve to be with someone with real power, someone who would never leave you unsatisfied, both physically and emotionally. Someone like me.

Yoongi could feel himself harden just from the thought of you.

Damn you for having this type of power over me, his mind cursed. Yoongi has slept with countless of other royals before, both men and women, and he has never encountered someone like you.

You are truly something else.

“Damn,” Yoongi mumbled out to nobody in particular, palming himself through his robes. “How the hell am I going to get rid of this?”

And right on queue, a young servant boy just happened to be walking right by Yoongi when the question ran through his head.

“Stop,” was all he said, making the servant boy freeze in his place.

“Y-Yes, your Majesty?”

Yoongi took slow, intimidating steps towards him until he was towering over him, using his hands to cup his chin and forcing the servant boy to meet his eyes. “How would you feel having the honor of spending the night with your Emperor?”

The servant boy couldn’t stop the small smile from forcing on his face. “I-I would love that, your Majesty.”

That was Yoongi needed to hear before leaning down capturing the servant’s boys lips with his, hands moving to his thighs and hoisting him up in his arms and carrying him into his chambers, lips never separating.

“You’re a eager one, are you?” Yoongi chuckled against the servant boy’s mouth, moving his lips down his neck and forcing a whimpering moan from him.

“I-It’s my duty to serve y-you, your Majesty.”

That brought a smile on Yoongi’s lips.

Yoongi couldn’t find you anywhere the next day.

He couldn’t find at you breakfast, he couldn’t find you during the conference with the other royals and their wives, and he couldn’t find you at lunch. Now as dinner was approaching, there still wasn’t any sign of you anywhere.

But he had no problem finding your husband. Wherever he saw Taehyung, he saw that whore of a servant trailing behind him like a pet—but you no where to be seen.

Yoongi thought about approaching him to ask about your whereabouts, but he couldn’t help but think of the consequences that would happen afterwards. But that still didn’t stop him from sending glares at the younger royal and the servant every now and then, which didn’t go unnotice by either of them.

“Is there something wrong, your Majesty,” Taehyung finally asks, breaking the tensed silence between the two of them. “You’ve been staring at me all day today and haven’t said a single word.”

“Oh nothing,” Yoongi simply replies, eyes still trained on him while twirling his glass of wine. “Just wondering where your wife is at right now, since everyone else is here. Is he still not feeling well from last night?”

For a very very brief moment, Yoongi could see panic glinting in his eyes before answering, “o-oh yes, your Majesty, he told me that he’s still feeling unwell so I allowed him stay back in the room.”

Liar, was Yoongi’s first thought, eyes glaring even more at the long, black-haired royal.

Everyone at the table could feel the tension between their Emperor and the young royal, and still no one chose to speak up about it.

Yoongi had a reputation. He is the first ever Emperor to achieve the throne through combat rather than family bloodline—and he is also the youngest ruler to ever be placed higher than a simple king. But that weren’t the only things he was known for. He was also generally known for being intelligent and quite reserved, and cruel if absolutely necessary, and also able to hold a grudge. It may sound simple, but everybody knew that if their Emperor had something against you, your days were limited.

So that’s why nobody chose to speak up when seeing the menancing glares their Emperor were sending at the youngest and only surviving Kim. Because they knew if they intervened, they’d only anger him and get on his list, and that’s the exact opposite of what they want to do.

“Your Majesty,” his advisor suddenly whispered right beside him. “I think it would be a good idea to continue the meeting. Some of your guests has some things to say about the...improvements you’re doing to the North.”

Yoongi clenched his jaw, eyes scanning over Taehyung once more before turning his attention to the other royals. “Sure,” he then says, “which one of you want to speak first?”

Not even a second later, Park Jimin, ruler of the Park Kingdom stood up from his seat and spoke. “Your Majesty, my council and I believe that the border that you have placed around my region is completely unnecessary.”

“How so?” Yoongi asks, leaning back against his chair with an amused look on his face. He had to admit that he was impressed that the blonde man was the first to speak up. He may not be the youngest royal out of everyone, but he certainly is the one with the least experience when it came politics.

“For starters your border cuts right through my kingdom’s river, slicing our water supply in half,” he starts, voice slightly raising. “And the amount of wood you required for the construction of the wall resulted in about ninety percent of the forests in my region to be completely cut down, forcing most of my workers into unemployment.”

Yoongi continued to listen closely with his hands laced together and resting on top of his chest, rocking back and forth in his chair with an intent glint in his eyes.

“I also find it completely unfair how your border only crosses over my kingdom but no one else’s.” Jimin continued to rant, jamming his finger repeatedly angerly against the table while keeping his eye contact with him. “I think it’s not for protection like you have claimed many of times, but as a prison, to keep my people in check. You’re nothing but a—”

Yoongi slammed his hand heavily onto the table, instantly silencing the young royal and causing everyone to gulp nervously. He may at times find it amusing when someone fights back, but he will never allow anyone to talk down against him, not in his own residence.

“You think I built that wall as a prison?” Yoongi asks, chuckling when the blonde man didn��t reply. “Are you forgetting what happened before I built that wall? Spies from the South would come right into our territories and would gather information on us, murder our people in their sleep—that’s how your parents died, am I correct? Some spy that sneaked into their palace assassinated them when they were asleep? It would such a shame if the same thing happens to you—after I take down the wall, of course.”

Yoongi smirked when noticing the seeing Jimin’s jaw clenching and hands angrily balling into fists. “So don’t you ever accuse me again? Because everything I do is for the best of my people, not just yours. The wall is only bordering your land because your land is the only one that connects with the South.”

Jimin’s head hung low, hands unclenching and lips dropping into the frown.

“So before you come at me, you should make sure that you have all the information, do you understand me?” Jimin nodded and sat down.

Everybody tensed when Yoongi then stood up from his seat and slowly, intimidatingly made his way to Jimin’s chair. And when placing his hands on the younger man’s shoulders, Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle when feeling him jump slightly underneath his touch. “Normally I’d kill anyone who spoke to me that way,” leaning down, he whispered into Jimin’s ear, sending chills along his pale skin, “but I’ll let it slide for once since you’re new to this whole thing.”

“T-Thank you, your Majesty.”

With one last pat on the shaking man’s shoulder, Yoongi pulled away, and he was standing straight again, his eyes suddenly fell on your figure who stood near the entrance of the conference hall. But you weren’t alone, no, three servants that he couldn’t recognize was with you. The four of you seemed to be in a deep conversation, and with everybody focused on him, nobody noticed you.

Yoongi’s eyes slightly squinted out of suspicion when seeing you then bow your head at the three servants, a smile on your face before each of you went your separate ways.

Yoongi is definitely going to look into that.

“Now,” returning his attention back to his guests, Yoongi leaned himself against the table, keeping close to the blonde man that was still trembling. “Does anyone else have anything to say to me?”

“N-No no, your Majesty,” Jung Hoseok, another royal spoke up, gulping anxiously as he tightened his hand around his wife’s who sat beside him. “We have no complaints whatsoever, you’re doing an amazing job—the perfect ruler.”

Kiss ass, Yoongi rolled his eyes, pushing himself away from the table. He then shifted his attention towards your husband and asks, “what about you, your Highness? Anything to say?”

Taehyung shook his head. “No, your Majesty.”

“What a bunch spineless people,” Yoongi’s mind scoffed, and he couldn’t agree more.

His advisor then rose from his chair and spoke up, “okay everyone, thank you all for attending his Majesty’s annual end of conference feast this year. You may all now return to your rooms and get some rest before heading back to your own residences in the morning.”

Yoongi stayed back and bid farewell to everyone, and once everyone was gone he left the conference hall with only one thing on his mind—you. He was determined to find out what exactly were you and those three servants were discussing about. Yoongi was so rapt on you that he didn’t even hear his advisor calling out of him to come back.

He practically jogged to the chambers hall, heading straight to your room and when he got there, just as he was about barge right through the door he was then stopped by a sudden sound. Moans could be heard on the other side of the door—female moans. Yoongi’s hands were already hovering over the door handle before he opened it slightly to where there was only a crack, giving him the view of seeing your husband with same servant girl from the night before.

Yoongi watches as she claws his back, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he place open mouth kisses along her bare chest and thrusted deep into her, causing loud, pleasurable moans to erupt from both of their mouths.

“T-Tae,” the young servant girl gasped, hands running up and down his sweaty back and fingers digging into his marked, glistening skin. “I’m close.”

“Me too, love,” he groaned back, leaning down and capturing her lips into a passionate kiss. “Together, okay...?”

Utterly shameless, Yoongi shook his head and pushed away from the door with disgust. Just as he was about to continue searching for you, he froze at the sound a voice behind him—a female voice.

“Are you looking for Lady Kim, your Majesty?”

Yoongi turned around and was greeted by one of your servants, hands laced together and hanging in front of her with a wide smile on her face. “No, I’m not,” he quickly replied, shaking his head. He expected her to just nod her head and leave, but instead she released a small chuckle and turned around, saying in a soft tone, “follow me.”

Yoongi was hesitant, eyes burning suspiciously into the servant girl’s back as she began to walk away. But he soon decided to follow her despite the constant warnings that were running through his head at the moment.

The servant’s gaze was trained on the path in front of her, not even bothering to acknowledge the glare she was receiving by platinum-haired man that was trailing right behind her.

The warnings that were consuming Yoongi’s head started to get louder as he continued to follow her deeper into his residence, parts of his home that he hasn’t even been in.

Yoongi stopped in his place when the servant led him to a room with dark, double doors. “What is this,” he asks with a cold expression, causing the young girl to chuckle and open the door without saying a word to him. He was about to question her even more but when he got to see what was behind the door, leaving him speechless.

Standing right in front him was you, along with over a dozen guards and servants that were from many different kingdoms. Some of the guards and servants were part of the Park Kingdom, some were from the Jung Kingdom, and others were from your own home.

“What’s going on here?” Yoongi asks, his eyes glancing across the many different pairs that were staring right back at him.

“They work for me,” came out of your mouth. “We are all part of movement that believes that the North needs a change in leadership—which is you. You’re the only that deserves to rule the North, not these cowards.”

Yoongi was speechless. For once in his life he didn’t know to say. For the first time he wasn’t the one that was planning in the shadows, plotting against somebody—but instead it was people who he has never even met before. “Why,” was the only thing that came out of his mouth.

“Because war is coming your Majesty,” you stepped towards him to where you stood only inches away from his face, staring up to meet his eyes. “My agents told me that the South is planning an invasion into our territory, and the way the other kingdoms are ruling their land—we won’t survive this war. You are the only one that is capable of leading us to victory.”

Yoongi turned towards your followers. “Do you all agree with him?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” one of the guards spoke up. Each and every person then stepped forward and began to speak loudly on their opinions of their leaders.

“Park Jimin is too young to be King—he doesn’t know how to rule.”

“He can’t even hold a sword properly.”

“Jung Hoseok is a spineless man!”

“Damn right he is! The moment the South comes barging intl his palace, he’ll do whatever it takes to save his own skin and not his people.”

“Kim Taehyung is shameless bastard who would rather spend his time fucking his servants than leading his own Kingdom.”

Yoongi could see you snicker at that comment.

“He spends our taxes buying whores instead of using it to improve our home.”

“None of them belong on the throne!”

“They are right, your Majesty,” you stared at him with a small smirk on your lips. “Out of everyone, you’re the only that deserves to rule us. You are the one who will lead us to glory.”

Yoongi stared down at you with such desire. He may have found you attractive before, but now he couldn’t help but find you utterly irresistible. “So this isn’t just some power trip? Doing all this just to get to the top?”

Yoongi had his suspicions already about the war. He has heard from his own agents that the South were planning on some sort of invasion, but there wasn’t any evidence that confirmed that. So sadly he hasn’t been able to do any preparations—at least, none without the other royals knowledge of it.

You shook your head. “I don’t care about power, your Majesty—only survival, and you’re the best way to achieve that.”

“I see,” Yoongi reached up and stroked his chin, “how would you all do this anyway? Kill the rulers of each Kingdom can be tricky, and what about their heirs?”

“It’s quite easy,” you answered with a small grin. “They all have their jobs,” you nodded at your followers, “once they are home and unguarded, that is when they’ll strike. And as for their heirs, well, that’s not really a problem.”

Yoongi raised a brow. “Jung Hoseok’s wife is unable to bare a child, and he also doesn’t have any younger siblings to take over. So once he passes, rulership of his Kingdom immediately goes over to you. Same goes for my husband and Park Jimin.”

“I see,” Yoongi hums, biting inside of his cheek. “So what’s my job then?”

You smirk. “The only thing you have to do is have your succession speech ready, your Majesty.”

“But I have another problem,” Yoongi added. “Many people already disagree with our war with the South. How will we manage to persuade them that this is necessary? It’ll be difficult since three of the four leaders of the North are dead.”

“Trust me, your Majesty,” you spoke with such clarity and a smile on your face. “Everything is planned out and you don’t have to worry.”

Yoongi didn’t replay, eyes briefly glancing at the people that surrounded him. You must’ve noticed his still cautious state because next thing he knew you were signaling everybody out, telling them to “get some rest and prepare for your departure in the morning.”

“Why are you doing this exactly?” Yoongi asks the moment you two were alone in the room. “Because there is no damn way you’re doing this just for survival. I mean,” he suddenly chuckles, “you are giving complete control of the North. What is your angle here? Are you going to kill me after all this is so that you become Emperor?” Yoongi was starting to get frustrated. He has never had trouble understanding someone before until he met you. And now because of you, his mind was a complete mess.

“That’s not my intention at all, your Majesty,” smiling up at him, you placed your hand on his shoulder, smirking at the feeling of him tensing underneath your fingertips. “All I want is for the North, my home—your home to finally come out of its shadow that it has been forced to hide in for centuries.”

“And you think I’m the one that can do that?”

“Yes,” you nod, fingers dancing across his chest. “I’ve read records of previous Emperors and you’re the only that deserves that title. Unlike the other ones, you are resilient, intelligent, ruthless if necessary, and you even fight alongside your men which no other Emperor has done before.”

As each compliment came out of your mouth, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel himself starting to get hard underneath his lower robes, and you running your hands seductively over his chest definitely wasn’t helping.

“How should I repay you for your kindness then,” Yoongi found himself melting against your touch, his hands finding their way into your waist. “Because someone like you definitely deserves an reward for their loyalty.” Yoongi then turns you around in one quick motion, causing you to gasp at the sudden action and feeling his strong chest pressed up against your back and lips brushing against your ear.

A tiny moan escaped from your lips when feeling his hard length suddenly rub against your ass, you yourself starting to get hard as well. “Should I buy you plenty of jewelry, or maybe a large palace just for you?” Yoongi then pushed you up against the wall, smirking at the small gasp that came from you. “Or perhaps,” another moan came out of your mouth when one of his hands slipped underneath your robes and caressed the soft flesh of your behind, “make you wife?”

Yoongi chuckled when feeling shiver against him. “Yeah, you would like that, huh? Being my wife, an Empress, ruling right beside me?”

“Y-Yes, your Majesty,” you stuttered out, tilting your head back from the sensation, giving Yoongi the opportunity to lean down and leaving wet, tender kisses along your neck and bare shoulder, leaving dark bruises that’ll be near impossible to cover up tomorrow morning.

“Good,” Yoongi left another mark on your skin, dragging his finger across your ass, teasing your clenching hole with his fingertip. “Then how about we—secure our deal, then? And when you nodded, that was all Yoongi needed before turning you around to face him and crashing his lips down forcefully onto yours. The kiss was rough, yet tender and filled with lust. With your hands around his neck, Yoongi’s slid down to your thighs and hoisted you up into his arms, deepening the kiss with his lips moving in perfect sync against yours.

The kiss was like a drug that neither of you couldn’t get enough of.

“Please, your Majesty,” you whimpered against his lips, which made Yoongi want you even more than he already did. “Can you please h-hurry?”

Yoongi smirked against your lips, pulling away. “Don’t worry, my love, just be patient.”

It was quite ironic though, because Yoongi was everything but patient when it came to you. He couldn’t wait any longer. Instead of carrying you all the way to his chamber, he laid you on the closest flat surface which happened to be a table and tore your robes completely off of you, leaving you bare and them in ruins.

Yoongi decided to take his sweet time with you, dragging his lips across your ankles, up your legs to your meaty thighs. He then began to leave open mouth kisses over your abdomen and up your chest, teasing your nipples with his tongue and grazing the wet muscle over your collarbone. Yoongi continued his assault on your body until he reached back up your lips, capturing them this time into a soft, passionate kiss which you gladly returned without a second thought, hands sliding up to his shoulders and helping him strip from his own robes, revealing his pale and toned body.

Your mouth watered at the sight of him, eyeing his define muscles, the way his abs clenched as he climbed onto the table and hovered over you, and the way his biceps bulged as he held himself above you. “Y-Your Majesty—”

“Yoongi,” he cut you off, pulling away and moving his lips to your throat. “Call me, Yoongi, my love.”

“Y-Yoongi,” you tried out, heart warming in both of your chests once hearing his name come out of your mouth. It sounded right coming from you. “Please—”

“Don’t worry, my love,” Yoongi reassured you, moving his lips back up to yours. “I’m here, I’m here. Let me show you how it feels to be loved by a real man, yeah?”

The night was then soon filled with nothing but the sound your combined moans, skin slapping and the shared whispers of sweet words between one another.

This was the start of something new.

“T-Taehyung, faster, faster please!”

The sound of the woman’s moans and the bed’s headboard banging against the connecting wall to your room made your blood boil. Your hands clenched into fists and teeth biting angrily down onto your lips.

“Be patient, my love,” you could hear your husband say through the thin wall, making the rage that flowed through your veins grow more. “Let me cherish you, beautiful...”

“Your Highness,” the sound of a man’s voice tore you out of your thoughts, “I’ve done what you’ve asked me to do.”

“Everything’s prepared and ready?”

The guard nodded his head once you turned around, “yes, your Highness. The only people remaining in the palace are your loyal followers. Everyone else has been sent home.”

“Good,” only came out of your mouth before leaving your chambers with the guard following closely behind you. You walked over next door and didn’t bother knocking before barging right in, your husband and the girl instantly jumping to cover themselves with the thin bedsheets.

“What the fuck?!” Taehyung curses loudly, staring at you with wide eyes and wrapping his arms around the girl’s waist, pulling her close. “What are you doing here? I told already you that I’m staying here tonight.”

“I know,” you replied with not even a single ounce of emotion heard in your voice.

Taehyung’s eyes then shifted towards the guard that stood beside you. “What’s going on here?”

You didn’t say anything, only smiled, and that caused fear to form in the pit of Taehyung’s gut. With just the simple nod of your head, the guard walked over to the servant girl and snatched her by her hair, tearing her away from his grasp and yanking her off the bed and onto the ground.

“Stop—” Taehyung tried to reach for her but stopped when the guard pulled out a dagger and held the sharp blade against her neck, tears shining in her eyes. He then turned towards you, eyes glistening as well, “why are you doing this?”

“Change,” was all you said before nodding your head again, giving the guard the order to slide his blade across the girl’s throat, killing her instantly and letting her limp body collapse into the ground.

“N-No no,” Taehyung didn’t hesitate this time to jump out of the bed, despite being completely nude and taking her now lifeless body into his arms, blood staining the ground and his skin, and tears spilling uncontrollably from his eyes. “She was pregnant...”

“Oh well.”

Taehyung’s head shot up from your heartless comment, his teary eyes shining with a newfound rage. Before he had the chance to say anything the guard approached him from behind and wrapped his arms tightly around his neck. He immediately began clawing at his arms, trying to gasp for air that was becoming harder and harder to obtain, eyes bright red and nearly bulging out, tears slipping from them and sliding down his cheeks.

The last thing he saw before he took his last breath and eyes slowly closed was you standing in front of him with a sinister grin on your lips.

“Your Majesty.”

Yoongi glanced up from his book to see his personal advisor standing right in front of him by his library’s entrance. He hummed in reply, signaling for the young man to continue. We’ve gotten word from Lady Kim—” Yoongi glared at him, causing his advisor to pause and correct his words, “—I mean, ____’s agents that they have completed their duties.”

“They have?” Yoongi asked with a raised brow. He knew you were more than capable of doing this, but he thought something this major would take at least a week to accomplish. He didn’t expect to hear about any success a day later.

“Yes, your Majesty,” his advisor nodded. “The Jung palace is flames at this moment and there is word that Jung Hoseok himself and his wife were in their chambers when the fire happened. And as for Park Jimin, he was found murdered in his bed with a dagger in his chest. Some say it was one of his concubines that done it.”

“What about Kim Taehyung?” Yoongi found himself asking, his mind instantly thinking of you. “Was ___ successful?”

“Yes, your Majesty he was,” his advisor answered. “I was informed about Kim Taehyung’s death by ___ himself.”

Yoongi couldn’t stop the smile forming on his lips. “Good.”

“Would you like to start writing your succession speech now, your Majesty?”

“Yes,” Yoongi answered. “We’ll have the succession conference next week, and make sure every minor clan leader comes so that they know who is in charge now.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” his advisor nodded his head, and before leaving he turned back and said to him in a teasing tone, “oh, and someone is here to see you.”

Yoongi was about to ask him who it was, but he stopped himself when his eyes suddenly landed on you standing in his library’s entrance, his heart stopping in his chest at the sight of you. “H-Hey,” he stuttered out, cringing at the sound of himself. In all his years of living, nobody has ever had this type of power over him—but he wasn’t complaining either.

“Hello, your Majesty,” your reply sent tingles all over his body—and he loved it.

There was nothing but silence afterwards between you two because there wasn’t any need for words. The only thing you two needed to express the feelings you have for each other was your eyes—the passion, the lust, the want that shined in them.

This is just the beginning for you two.

would you guys like to see a drabble series of these two in the future maybe? emperor yoongi and his male wife.

TAGLIST:

@ben-c0c, @sombreboy, @theclawofsa, @joongtoons, @xavi-in-kpopland, @ephemeralkookie, @yoshiure, @illbeyournightmare, @sonderkook, @spaceisbigger, @catboygyu, @justqueerandhereforthetea, @xxminilah​

[1ddotdhq]

💿Sun 13 Dec ‘20💙

Happy Birthday, Fine Line! Have a Louis show! (Seriously, why can’t I get cool shows for my birthday like that??). So today’s been a busy week, huh? 

It is, of course, Fine Line’s anniversary, and the celebration kicked off last night, with a twitter emoji (it's Harrrry! Doing the FL pose so so tiny!) and the DYKWYA website changing. It’s pink and black and blue and white, and now tells us that we’re “loyal” and “marvelous” and “memorable” and “powerful” and “rare” and “real” and “staying six feet apart” (or 70 other lovely options). So either HSHQ got their thesaurus out, or they tuned into Louis’ show last night, because that’s EXACTLY how I would describe it. Anyways, the day started with a Harry sighting! Well, a video from last week that is, of him doing a MakeaWish FaceTime in a blue snapback. And then there was a Harry Lambert interview, where he directly addressed the discourse around Harry’s fashion choices, saying, “Harry will never wear something that he doesn’t want to wear...I always say, 'I‘m not doing my job if I’m making someone wear things' because I just think if someone gets comfortable in what they’re wearing, then it doesn’t matter if I think it looks good.” He went on to say, “There’s never an element of me forcing him to wear anything”. So - TAKE THAT, transphobes! We all recognize that saying “the mean gay man is making Harry look gay/genderqueer” is, uh, a REALLY bad take, right? Anyways, hopefully that’s the end of it, but we all know it won’t be. He also told us that Harry chose the (fake) pearls, asking “can I just wear these every day?” and they were only replaced with real ones after that strand broke, that he tried to get H out of the Vans for the Golden vid but he said nah, and about the Golden and WS videos “I kind of saw it as the same man just in a different place in the world” which, well- yeah? But the implication that that man was not Harry is interesting. Aside from that, we got some more terrible merch from HSHQ (including a shirt that is a glove with legs stuck on it, wtf), a few celebratory tweets from HSHQ, The Forum, Jeff Azoff (there's a theme here lol) etc, AND! A post from Harry himself: “I couldn’t be more grateful for you all continually finding new ways to change my life. Thank you for listening, and for everything else. I love you always, but especially today. H”. What? That’s his name, isn’t it? 

But, of course, H wasn’t the only one celebrating online today! Louis came back and answered some of our questions about the show. The first is that he sold over - are you ready for this? - OVER 160,000 tickets for the show, making it the biggest online show of 2020 by a solo male artist, and the third largest overall of the year. Even the Sun had to admit how “exceptional” that is, describing the show as "the equivalent of eight nights at London’s O2 Arena." Doing the math, this means he raised over $3.1 million from ticket sales alone! HOLY SHIT! Hearing that, Louis came on twitter to say (in reply to a quote by his PR company lmao), “This is truly incredible. No major label, no radio, yet here we are. The feeling of support I get from you all every time I do something is unbelievable. Forever Thankful! And they never see us coming!”. Of course, this incited another round of label discourse, wondering if this means he is still an unsigned artist. Does this simply mean the livestream wasn't put on by a label, yes, does Louis absolutely know about the discourse and is he being deliberate, I would also say unmistakeably yes. Which is not to say we know ELSE it might mean -- is he signed to an indie? Still label shopping and waving how much more they need him than vice versa in the hopefuls' faces? Signed but the contract doesn't start until there's a record in play (which when you negotiate your own contract and establish artistic freedom, as we can be very sure was Louis' priority, is what labels DO - they don’t manage every aspect of an artists career)? Signed by a major label, but shading the FUCK out of Syco about radio play for Walls? What we DO know is that it wasn't a label that put the livestream on, and damn if that doesn’t make it 1000% more badass. “Memorable”, “powerful”, and “rare” indeed! He’s still early in the process of LT2, as he told us yesterday, so we might have to wait a little longer to figure out what’s happening business-wise, but he made sure to tell everyone that his fans were an integral part of his processing the most inspiring way possible: “the power and the magic comes from the people you guys,” I COULD CRY that's MY inspirational leader THANK YOU. He goes on to say “don't undermine your role in all this... together with your support we're unstoppable!” He also called us “fucking relentless” (god knows that's true) as Walls hit the charts AGAIN, and talked about how the money raised will go a long way. “WE did that!!”

And with that, let’s talk a little bit more about last night’s (“bold”, “extraordinary”) show! ‘‘Copy’ is making its rounds on the internet, but YouTube continues to take down recordings of the show, which SUCKS, because everyone should be able to see it! Maybe in a few days when some time has passed, they’ll let it go up without an issue, or maybe they'll answer our pleas (come through one more time Louis!) and put out a DVD (and live album too how about, YES? Yes.), til then there are the downloads going around tumblr! Good thing we got Louis' seal of approval or just imagine the discourse. The ‘H’ shirt Louis was wearing last night is a Reebok shirt, which was being distributed in a few different places, such one where you could get a discount if you used the code ‘HL40’ and another where it was $28, lol. Was it the loudest Louis shirt ever- I mean I would say an unqualified NO but many are voting YES and are reeling so that's really fun! Welcome to the gang guys. Not likely to win any awards for being loud with such incredible competition but still very good SBBing-- Louis was wearing a stuffed bear t shirt in rehearsal pics. When you know you know, I guess! ;) The band is also soaking in the praises (as they should!) and have been re-posting fans’ stories on Instagram all day (as did LTHQ) - cheers, boys! 

Today’s Liam and Roman alarm was ALL us (well, not allll us, Roman did explain that the alarms would feature fans every Sunday, but then he handed the mic over). “Waking up to Liam and Roman is the best thing EVER! I don’t know why it gives me so much serotonin,” said one fan. I do! It’s because Liam is a real, live puppy dog and he’s so genuinely sweet to his fans. Love him lots, but I love him even MORE when he’s ON the advent alarm!

[koreanmadeingreece]

Why, why, why (11)

University student!Yuta x reader

Genre: slight enemies to lovers au, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and several mixups

Summary: You just got into uni and decided to move in with your childhood friend!Taeyong at the city where you are going to study. As you’re about to start your new, adult life, you meet his friends, and you realize that not everyone likes you. Nakamoto Yuta in particular almost seems like he hates you.

A/N: In this fic, Jonghyun from NU’EST appears for a while (just to avoid confusion). OKAY FINAL CHAPTER PEOPLE I’M EXCITED!!

Warnings: a little bit of smuuuut but not much hahah

Word count: 2K

Part 11/11 First / Previous 

Taglist: @melitadala @chxotickpoptrash @aiforyuu @fineapplehoe (thank you for staying with me till the very end!! <3

You mentally slapped yourself in the face and, after a pep talk from Taeyong, you were ready to get dressed and go. It was Saturday, so you didn’t have any obligations or classes, and probably neither did he. It wasn’t his turn to help with the movie night, Taeyong told you. You thought he’d have returned home by then, that he couldn’t have stayed out all night, but apparently you were wrong. You seemed to be wrong an awful lot of times lately, you thought. Taeyong had told you where his house was, yet he wasn’t in. Or he wasn’t answering the door. Considering the state he left you the previous night, it would make sense not to go back home.

The next thing you could do was call the friends that you knew he had. You sat at Yuta’s doorstep and called Johnny first, because he seemed like the most reasonable option among the ones you knew. “Hey. Don’t say my name. Is he there?”

“Hi. He came here for a while last night, but he left early in the morning. I didn’t ask. He didn’t seem to be in a right state of mind, and I assume you had to do everything about it.”

“Yeah. You couldn’t be more accurate,” you replied.

“So, what are you going to do?”

“I’ll have to find him first.”

“Isn’t he at home?” Johnny wondered.

“Apparently not. Any idea of where he could be?”

“Check Mark’s house.” With that word, he gave you Mark’s number, which you immediately texted.

You: You don’t know me, but is Yuta there? Johnny gave me your number.

Mark: Y/N, right?

You: Yeah. So, he’s there.

Mark: He was, but he just left. He didn’t say where he’d go.

You: You’ve got to be kidding me. Anyway, thanks.

Mark: If you’re looking for him, just make sure you’re doing it for a good reason.

You: Don’t worry, I am.

You cursed at the universe for not letting you see him. As you sat on the steps, you leaned forward and put your head between your legs. You needed to calm down. You needed to find him. You had to put an end to this.

The safest thing you could do was wait for him exactly where you were. You knew he’d eventually show up, so you got comfortable and decided to spend the entire day there. Thankfully it wasn’t too cold, and it didn’t seem like it was going to rain. You took your phone and scrolled through your tumblr account, hoping that your mind would relax for a while.

After about forty minutes of endless scrolling, with your body practically melting on the doorstep, you felt someone coming your way and you scooted away to let them get into the building. You hadn’t realized that the person standing next to you was no other than Yuta.

“I didn’t expect to find you here.”

You lifted your head up. You panicked as soon as you saw him and got up, standing right in front of him. “I didn’t expect things to turn out this way, but here we are.”

“I went to your place today, but you weren’t there. I assume you were here all this time, judging by how sleepy you look.” He paused. “Come in.” He took out his keys and led you in the apartment. His place was beautiful. It wasn’t huge, considering he was only a student, but the decoration was unbelievable, and he also had it pretty clean.

“I came here first thing in the morning. I left my house around the time you probably left Mark’s.”

“You called Mark? Wow, I didn’t know you’d care so much about this.” He was looking straight into your eyes, his gaze piercing you, yet at this moment he looked away. He was…embarrassed? You wanted to talk to him, but he beat you to it once more. “Look, the way things are right now, I can’t do many things. I assume you know how I feel, considering that you’re here and that Taeyong probably told you. You’re in love with another guy and I thought I could handle it, at least until I saw you like that.”

“Yuta, I-”

“No. Let me finish. Y/N, I’m in love with you. I don’t know how it happened, how I got to this point, but it’s true. I know you’re committed to someone else, but I just have to get this off my chest.”

“Yuta, wait-”

“Just let me say this. I can’t believe what’s going on because I was the one who brought it to myself. My ego didn’t let me be nice to you and get to know you in time, so it was only natural that I’d lose you. I know that this changes everything, and you probably won’t want to see me for a while, but you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. Your eyes,” he paused, and you managed to see one little smile forming on his lips for a moment, “they made me fall in love with you in the first place. You don’t know how many times I wanted to break his face whenever I saw you with him, but I knew he wasn’t at fault. He was good to you, so I had no say in this. I want you to be mine, Y/N.” He stopped talking and looked towards you, eyes watered, ready to cry.

“Yuta, shut up,” you said, and watched his face literally explode.

“I tell you all that and you-”

“I broke up with him.”

“What? Why? But, yesterday,” he couldn’t believe it.

“I ran outside to find you as soon as you left, but it was too late. I couldn’t bear the thought that I was the reason your smile faded away. Yuta, I’d do anything to see you smile again,” you said. He wasn’t moving. He was waiting for you to explain everything to him, why you did what you did. “I liked Jonghyun, and I think I stayed with him because I thought I couldn’t be with you. That night at my house, after we went out, I got scared. I knew I couldn’t trust myself around you, so I tried to focus on my relationship. Apparently, that only made it more difficult for me to realize that I’m in love with you.”

“You’re,”

“I’m in love with you, Yuta. I want to be around you, I want to spend time with you, hell, I know I would’ve kissed you that night if Taeyong had let us. I tell you bad jokes just to see you smile.”

“Your jokes aren’t that bad,” he smiled and took one step towards you. You read his movements and came closer to him as well. Moments later, you finally did what you couldn’t before. Your lips against his, it was the softest, but at the same time most passionate sensation you’d ever felt. You were in love with each other, and it was all you ever needed. You deepened the kiss, taking the time to savor the feeling of being so close to him without restrictions. You were young, you were in love, and you could enjoy it all you wanted.

You broke the kiss and looked at him to see if the same thing was on his mind, but you got your answer from his look. You took his hand and led him inside, only to stop and realize that you had no idea how the layout of his house was. He laughed and took the lead, showing you the way to his room. You found yourselves standing next to the bed, awkwardly taking each other’s clothes off. Your shirt came out first, then his, and then your pants. He stopped for a second, only to look at you.

“I’ve seen this sight before, and it hurt me that it wasn’t my hands that touched you. Having you so close to me like this takes my breath away.”

You placed a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m so sorry, Yuta.” You pressed your body against his, without it being sexual. You just wanted to let him know you were with him and you weren’t going anywhere.

“I want you to be mine.” He kissed you once more, taking off your bra. He softly placed you on the bed, his body on top of you, kissing your neck and your collarbones. He got up only for a second, to get your panties off you. You gently pulled him close, as he was only a breath away from finally being yours. His hand roamed on your body, finding its way to your clit, a finger entering your folds, and then a second one.

“Yuta, I want you,” you moaned, showing him that you were ready.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, and you didn’t know why. You liked how much he respected you, but you couldn’t even imagine a world where you wouldn’t want this.

“More than ever.”

He reached out to his nightstand and took a condom, rolling it on his length. He came on top of you, and with a gentle motion he was inside of you. You couldn’t believe how you stayed away from him for that long. He started moving in a slow pace. “Y/N,”

“Yuta,” you moaned his name as he brought you closer to your release.

You felt so close to him at that point. You had your release at the same time as his. He got up and disposed of the condom, then came back to the bed and laid next to you.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he laughed. “Why are you here, in bed, with me?” he asked.

“Maybe because you’re all I ever wanted, you idiot.” You placed your hand on top of his stomach, your head on his chest. His hands were wrapped around you, and you spent the entire afternoon in bed, bodies intertwined as if you’d never let go.

“You know, I wanted our first time to be special. If it ever happened, at least. I had no idea you’d come here, or that we’d end up like this,” he said.

“It was special. Every moment we spend together is special to me, Yuta. I don’t know how you didn’t see it earlier.”

“Your boyfriend didn’t really help me, you know.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” You placed a soft kiss on his chest.

“So, are we, like, together now?” he asked, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how embarrassed he was of the entire situation.

“Do you not want to?” you teased and lifted your head, only to watch him blush in seconds. “I’m kidding. Yes, we are. I really want that.” You placed a kiss on his lips.

“Don’t let go of me ever again, okay?”

“I won’t.”

 Bonus scene:

The gang was all at your house. Your friends, Taeyong’s friends, everyone was trying to fit on the couch and on the pillows you had on the floor. You had decided to invite everyone over after everything was cleared up, even though you didn’t have the time to fill them in besides Taeyong. When Chan, BamBam and Yugyeom saw that Yuta opened the door of your house were shocked, but didn’t say anything, until they saw you approaching and resting your hand on his waist.

“What the fuck did we miss?” Chan asked you, and you chuckled.

“Probably a lot,” you couldn’t help but laugh as you turned to Yuta and kissed him on the lips in front of them. “See, I can do that now.”

“Y/N, I can’t believe you’re using me to impress people.”

“Oh, and wait till you see his navel piercing,” you said, completely ignoring him, and leaving Chan in a state of shock at the same time.

Johnny and V expected this to happen, so they weren’t that shocked when they saw. After a while, everyone got comfortable, and Yuta decided to put a French comedy. He knew how much you liked them anyway, and all of you needed something to relax. You brought popcorn and sat next to Yuta at the floor, seeing how betrayed Chan was that he hadn’t already heard the details from you. He only settled down when you promised you’d tell him later that night.

It was chaos, but it was your chaos. Your life. And it was a life you cherished.

[straykidsworldwild]

Duskwood

Phil Hawkins x MC

Part 2 (1/2) : MC goes to work and a certain boy comes to meet her for lunch.

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Heyy guys! Here's a piece of part2. It was too long to put the whole thing on Tumblr at once (apparently) so I had to cut it in half 🙈 (2/2) is coming!!

(I just made the collage. Credits go to the creators of Duskwood and the owners of the pics.)

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I slowly wake up, feeling and hearing something buzzing. With my eyes still closed, I slide my hand under the pillow next to mine to grab my phone. I hate waking up by alarms… It feels like I am being cut in my sleep. And I’m not going to lie… I love my sleep just as much as I love food. Who doesn’t? I open my eyes and turn the alarm off before quickly closing them again. I didn't sleep well last night… When I went to bed after texting Phil to tell him I got home fine, I couldn’t stop thinking about the discussion we had at his bar. Was I right to say “yes” for lunch tomorrow noon? Was he being serious? Is he playing a game? Am I falling in his net? I don’t know and I think that’s what terrifies me with him. I just don’t want to be his next hookup… If I start something, it’s for a serious relationship, not to play around. That’s not my thing. But that’s exactly what Phil does so… I guess I should just trust a little more myself. Anyway, that was just the first part of the night, because the next part, all I could do was think about my uncle. Every time I closed my eyes, I just recalled amazing moments with him. Moments that mom, he and I won’t ever have again… I laid on my back, on my sides, on the side… And I did this over and over until managing to fall asleep.

I turn on the lamp on my nightstand when I hear my phone suddenly buzzing again. But I turned it off… Oh! I grab my phone and answer the call after looking at the I.D. caller.

- Hey, mom, how are you? I just woke up… I tell my mother with a still sleepy voice as I sit on the side of my bed. The light is still too much so I close my eyes for a few seconds more. Suddenly, a noise coming from behind the phone call catches my attention. It’s not a noise I am used to hear her make... Mom? I call her with some concern.

- “He's gone…” I hear her simply whispering through the phone as another sound catches my attention again. Sobs… Mom is crying. I’ve heard my mother crying before. It’s so… Strange and heartbreaking. I mean, mom has always been that strong figure, fighting everyone coming in her way or in mine… But she never broke down before me.

- I know, mom. I'm so sorry. But… I begin to respond calmly, keeping the pain to myself. I’ve never heard nor seen my mom crying in my life. She’s all I have as a family and hearing her in such pain… It’s heartbreaking.

- "Can you come over today? I'll need you to finish the preparation of the funeral. I can't do this alone. And..." She interrupts me, sounding overwhelmed and submerged. I lower my head and keep a desperate sigh inside of me. I wish I could already be next to her and tell her to not worry. That she doesn’t have to do anything. That I will take care of this for her. But I can’t because of my dumbass boss… Unbelievable...

- I'd love to, mom, really. But I have to go to work, I begin to say, sounding sad and sorry for not being there for her. I hate it. I feel like I’m betraying my own mother. That I’m not giving her the support she needs right now. And maybe the one that I also need... But she knew uncle Alex for longer than I did so it’s fairer that I should be there for her... But once I'm out, I'll stop by your house to come help you, okay? So I can see you a little bit too, mom. I should finish at 3p.m. today, if my boss doesn't think otherwise, I tell her gently. Though, an unsure point is heard in my voice. We never know with my boss… If he had a bad day, he is capable of giving you two extra hours to do just because he wanted to.

- "You know, your uncle was always there for me. I remember when we were kids…" I frown with sadness to the sound of her voice. It’s broken… She sounds empty. Out of life. "There was this horrible kid terrorizing the youngsters. I was one of those kids being terrorized, but of course, as my big brother, he protected me. He always did. He was really protective, you know?" She recounts me in brief words with a trembling voice. I know the story by heart. Uncle Alex used to tell it to me as a bedtime story. He was the hero of course. I never doubt that… I hear mom sniffling and letting another sob out. "So was he with you, baby. He loved you as his own, you know?", oh… When she said "baby", her voice just completely broke. I could barely hear it. I continue to look down as I feel a lump forming in my throat. I miss Uncle Alex like crazy... "And he did the same when your father left..." She admits to me, going to the topic about how my uncle was protective. Which I already knew as well... It honestly hurts to hear all of this so soon after his tragic death. I still haven’t digested it. It’s still not real to me. I still think I will see him today or tomorrow or the day after tomorrow... But it seems to make mom feel better by saying those words to me, by recounting her memories. So, I'll listen carefully. Or I'll try, at least… If I don't break before too. Her pain is so profound… And shared.

- Mom, you don't have to tell me all of this now. Let some time pass. It's hurting you, I say with a slight pleading tone, hoping she will listen to me. I know it's hard to not think about it or to not want to talk about it. But I just think it's too soon for her. And for me... She can't turn the page in a finger snap. It’s impossible. Even if she feels like she did or she has to do it, it might not be the best way.

- "I love you, MC. You're my baby girl." She says over the phone, sniffling sadly again. I nod even though she doesn't see me. I am staring at the floor, my sight being blurry. Not again...

- I love you so much, mom, I reply to my mother, controlling my voice as much as possible despite the tight ball in my throat. She doesn’t need to know that I’m about to cry too. I hear her sniffling behind the phone call again followed by a new sob. I can't… Look, I have to go, mom, but I'll come see you later today, okay? I'll come with a little surprise, I tell her gently, wanting and feeling the need to cheer her up. I just want my mother to be happy again.

- "A surprise? You know I don't like surprises much, MC.", She replies with a mix between her crying and a faint chuckle before reminding me how she has always hated surprises. I know…

- That's why I'm bringing you one, I answer to my mom, cracking a smile to the sound of her faint chuckle.

- "You're a little Devil, just like your uncle... What's the surprise?" She begins to say before pausing. It's true, I got a little bit of him too. I guess it's because he sort of raised me and because I'm a (l/n) as well.

- Mom, if I tell you there would be no point for me to call it a surprise, wouldn't it? I answer with a gentle and playful tone before giggling. I hear her crying turning into giggles.

- "I tried. Okay, go to work, baby, and... I'll do a few things here... I'll try. Oh, and I ordered the flowers you asked me to pick for your uncle." She responds with another small chuckle before sniffling one more time. I smile a little more, glad to hear that I managed to make her smile a little bit despite the situation. She ordered the flowers… My smile grows a little more, glad about this news.

- Okay, call me if you need me for anything. Doesn't matter if I work or not, okay? I love you, mom, I reply sincerely to my mother, giving her a little cheerful tone.

- "I will. I love you too, baby. See you later.", She says back to me, sounding a little better then when I answered the phone. I smile and wait a few seconds before hanging up. Right… I feel like I have another long day coming… I let a long sigh out, as if I am trying to get rid of a weight on my shoulders, before wiping the tears in my eyes. Well, I've got to get ready...

Almost an hour later, I am on my way to work. Like every day, I see the same streets, the same cars, the same shops, the same streetlights… Of course, I am not going there with an ounce of motivation. I’d rather stay home or go anywhere else, but not there. I’m not saying being a waitress is the worst job, but my boss and some clients are actually really hard to deal with. Anyway…

I rapidly reach the back door of the restaurant I work at and enter the building which leads to the kitchen. The cooks and the waitresses are all here, ready to work. Oh, almost… I hold the door for Angie and she runs in, thanking me at the same time. We exchange a smile and get ready to start working. The clients should start coming soon… It's been three months since my boss decided to expand the restaurant to include a little coffee shop. I think it was a good idea, a good change in Duskwood. It was a test at first to see if people would like it. The clients seemed satisfied so that’s why I am here so early every morning now.

- MC! I look up immediately after hearing a gravelly voice yelling my name. My boss walks briskly towards me, a frown of madness plastered over his face. As usual... What time does my watch indicate? He asks me while showing me his watch on his right wrist. What…?

- 8:01am.? I answer, not sure where this is going.

- You were supposed to be here at 8:00a.m.. Not at 7:59a.m., not at 8:01a.m., but at 8:00a.m.! Is it so hard to understand in your dummy brain? He tells and asks me with madness, actually scolding me for arriving one minute late. As always, he raises his voice while talking, making sure everyone can hear who is commanding here. I guess you see what I meant when I said that I wasn’t very motivated to come to work...

- I'm sorry, boss, I simply say as I don’t want to argue nor lose my job. Well, it’s mainly that I’m not up to an argument right now… I have other things to think about. To worry about.

- Don't. Since you came late, you'll go home late. You're finishing at 6p.m. today, he tells me with a correcting tone, looking down on me. He’s joking, right? 6pm?

- What? You're making me do three extra hours for one minute late? I demand him with disbelief as I’m getting upset.

- And you're not paid for those, he points out seriously, still speaking as loud as before. Not paid?! Better and better...

- Sir, I can’t work extra hours today. I have to go see my mom this afternoon after work. My uncle passed away yesterday and I have to help for the funerals and… I explain to my boss with seriousness, going up against him. I mean, I can be shy and quiet and all, just don’t take me for an idiot or play with me.

- That's not a valuable excuse. Get to work before I change my mind and actually fire you for rebellion, he orders me seriously and sternly. Right… I look down, not responding to not receiving any consequences later. Everyone, back to work! he screams to all of his employees before walking away to do his life. Dick!

- Don't listen to this cold hearted dick, MC, I hear Angie telling me as she comes to stand in front of me. She’s a little taller than me. If you need to leave, then do. I'll cover for you. I knew something wasn't right yesterday but we barely crossed paths so I couldn't ask you what was wrong. I'm really sorry about your uncle, MC, she apologizes sincerely to me as she puts her hand on my shoulder. Angie is one of the only workers I get well along with here. Yeah, nothing goes well in this restaurant… It’s sad because it could have its potential. I smile at my friend while weakly nodding.

- Thanks, Angie, I thank her sincerely as I place my hand on top of hers. She smiles and nods back before the two of us take separated ways to go do our work.

The morning passed pretty quickly to be fair. I prefer when it’s like this. Working and watching the time pass is one of the worst feelings. There were so many clients this morning that I didn’t have time to get bored. It’s actually pretty rare that there are so many people coming in the morning. I mean, it’s still a little buzzy usually but not this much. I hope that will put my boss in a good mood and he’ll kind of forget the late minute thing this morning… Right, even I don’t believe this… I take the plates and cutleries that customers have left to clear the table. I clean it well and let other customers settle in. The noon hour and 1pm are the worst. There is often a line of customers waiting for a table but it goes on pretty well usually. Anyway… It’s time for my break. I put the dirty dish and cutleries in the bassin which is on a cart to later go to the kitchen.

- Hi, I turn around to look at the person who is not so unfamiliar to me, I'm looking for a pretty (h/c) with crazy (e/c) in which you would easily get lost in. Have you seen her around? says and asks me, a man, using a flirtatious and slight playful tone at the same time. I smile and softly laugh while nodding.

- Yeah, I think she went back to the kitchen a little while ago. But I don’t know where she went after, I reply playfully to my friend as I point towards the kitchen. The man softly laughs back before passing his hand in his long hair which isn't in a ponytail or a bun for once. How dare he look so good?

- How are you, Gorgeous? Asks me gently, Phil, as we are facing one another.

- I’m good. I have the same problem as last night, but I’m good. You? I answer with a very faint sigh as I keep a small smile before asking him.

- I'm good, thanks, he responds, having that damn smirk in the corner of his lips. The two of us stare at each other for a little moment, a smile on our face. I can’t really explain why or how, but seeing him here, now, like we said last night, makes me happy. So, is it still on for having lunch together or...? He asks me, a point of nervousness heard in his voice. He isn’t sure of himself which is so rare to see.

- Yes… I begin to tell him before hearing a gravelly voice calling for me.

- MC! I turn around and see my boss approaching us. Oh… No time for talking! Get back to work! He tells me harshly in front of Phil. Oh God… So awkward! I know I have said stories to my friends about my boss, but none of them actually saw the man talking to me that way. And I wish it wouldn’t have been Phil seeing and hearing him talking to me this way. What is he going to think?

- You're seriously letting that dumbass talking to you this way? I hear Phil whispering lowly in my ear. His deep voice echoing in my ear… He sounded like he couldn’t just believe what he just heard. Oh but it’s real, Phil… I live it every day like all the employees here.

- It's almost 1p.m., sir. I'm on my break… I begin to respond to my boss, not forgetting that I actually want to get out of work at 3p.m and not 6p.m. I still have hope… A faint one but, it’s still there.

- Break? He repeats my word with disbelief as he is standing right before my face now. No break for you today. Come on, move! He exclaims, speaking with a mad tone as usual. If I didn’t know him, I would think he actually hate me. Which might be the case… It’s not possible to scream so much on someone without reasons, right? Ugh, is that guy ever happy? Or just calm?

- Hey! I hear Phil’s loud voice coming from behind me before I could say anything to my boss. I slightly widened my eyes in surprise as I didn’t think Phil would say something. She's your employee, not your stooge! You should watch it! He tells him with a warning tone which I’ve never really heard before. The only time I heard him using this tone was when one of his regulars overstepped the line. I look on my left as I see Jessy’s brother standing next to me, slightly getting before me. Oh… He looks so mad.

- And who might you be to talk back to me? Questions, my boss to Phil. Oh no… I glance around us and notice that customers are staring at us, watching the scene. So awkward… Before Phil could do something or say a word, and mostly before it goes too far, I grab discreetly Phil’s wrist. He doesn’t move nor look at me. My boss is still staring at Jessy’s brother. He is not pleased at all...

- Look, sir. She's been working since 8:00a.m., and it's 1p.m. in less than five minutes. You can't take off her lunch break just because you're her boss, it's against the law. But if you think you are above them, maybe we could stop by the police station to see who's right? Responds calmly and politely, Phil, all while still having this warning and serious tone. I’ve always been amazed by how polite he can stay despite the circumstances or the situation. I mean, it’s easy to lose control due to anger, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he fights.

- 30minutes. No more, tells me, my boss, reluctantly giving me a break. Thanks to Phil… I nod positively before he turns around and leaves us at a quick pace. Phil turns around before looking down at me.

- Thanks, but you didn't have to do that, Phil, I thank him with a small shy tone, yet, thankful he actually stepped in for me.

- I did and I wanted to. But honestly, that guy deserved more than just a "talk", he replies with sincerity and seriousness. While talking about my boss, I could hear the madness in his voice. I nod understandingly as I give him a small smile, appreciating it for standing up for me. It’s not every day it happens. Come on, he suddenly tells me with his infectious smile. I don't answer. Instead, my smile grows wider while the two of us walk through the restaurant to reach the outside. Oh, he has a bag! How did I not see it?

[mlqcconfessions]

MLQC Headcanons - “Are you jealous?”

Because Tumblr likes being a butt, the ask sent by nonny was DELETED before I could answer it! But I did manage to read the request in my notifications. Sorry to the anon if it’s a little different than what you had asked 

Characters: 4 Main Guys X MC

Prompt: Jealousy over someone getting a little too close to you

Warnings: FLUFF OVERLOAD

Victor

Your relationship with LFG’s CEO was still secret

Of course, you were the one who suggested the idea (he could care less what the press thinks, but didn’t want to compromise your privacy)

You’re actually kind of sad that he puts distance between you two during work (I know I said that, but even when we’re alone in his office?)

He makes it up by kissing you in the elevator (Goldman doesn’t understand why you’re standing so far away from Victor and honestly he doesn’t want to know)

After a few weeks of this “secret dating”, you’re so deprived of Victor that you’re less energetic

He notices this, obviously, and actually feels bad about it

Decides to bring some pudding along with him

He drives up to your company to pick you up, but notices you talking with someone (he lowers the window slightly to hear)

Doesn’t think much of it until he hears the guy asking for your number

And you willingly give it to him? 

“This idiot....!”

Victor gets out of his car and walks up to the two of you, hand on your back, and escorts you to the passenger seat (shoots a quick nod back at the guy)

You notice the small bag under your seat and open it, surprised by the small containers filled to the rim with pudding (you waste no time in opening one)

Unbelievable, do I have to ask her myself?

“I never realized you were this careless, MC” (you look up from your pudding)

“What do you mean?”

“Giving your number to a stranger like that? I knew you were a dummy, but to this extent?” (his eyes are fixed on yours as the light turns red)

“Well, he’s going to need his boss’ number, isn’t he? And plus if anything goes wrong with the projects, I’ll need to know” 

“....boss?” (Victor nearly misses the turn)

“Yeah, remember Minor? The newly hired one? I thought I told you already...” (your words drown out in his head as he pieces everything together)

“Wait, Victor...are you being jealous right now?” (he doesn’t like that your eyes are lighting up of all times for her to be observant)

He stops at another red light and leans over to lick the pudding off on your cheek (this guy!)

“So what if I am?”

Kiro

You had asked him if he could come for a segment on your show (modeling for some products)

You ask, he answers

Poor Savin has to clean up the mess after Kiro cancelled his ENTIRE schedule

“Miss Chips NEEDS me!” (if you weren’t Kiro’s girlfriend, Savin would’ve destroyed you)

In between shots he always appears at your side with snacks

“You need to be energized, MC!” (actually just needs an accomplice against Savin)

You’re amazed at the 180 difference of this sunshine when he’s with you vs. when he’s filming (he knows you’re amazed)

One of the cameramen calls you over to discuss the recent shots

The two of you discuss how to bring out the best in Kiro (he was fantastic as is, but there was a spark that just lacked)

He notices you slowly inching towards the cameraman, hands on the back of his chair (sunshine boy is pouty; why can’t you notice that your coworker clearly has interest in you?)

You ponder over how this shoot can be better, unaware that Kiro was staring at your every move

“Maybe someone else can be in the shot with him?” (you suggest, looking up to meet his radiating eyes)

“Great idea! MC, you do it!” (he gets up to grab your hand, and leads you to the front of the studio)

“No...I possibly can’t...”

Your arguments are useless as Kiro calls his team over to help you get prepared

3. HOURS. OF PREPARATIONS.

But you step out, beautifully dressed, catching the eyes of everyone in the room, including the very cameraman (this is NOT what Kiro wanted!)

He quickly pulls you towards him, “Trust me, MC” (stops to look at the cameraman before focusing on you)

He stages these elaborate poses to capture your best angles (Kiro, have you forgotten who this shoot is for?)

He sees that the cameraman is at a loss for words at your beauty (can’t blame him, but still)

For the last shot Kiro leans down and softly blows into your ear, causing you to profusely blush

He looks at the cameraman one last time before leaning down again to whisper

“Don’t be so cute in front of other guys, you’re making me jealous”

Lucien

He’s used to having students come up to him and flirting with him

Of course, it doesn’t faze him at all (but he does enjoy seeing your reactions when he flirts back)

Never thought the tides would turn against him

He sees another student walking up to you during lecture

“Is this seat taken?”

“No, go ahead!”

Lucien’s gaze lands on the student, his face flushed while pulling out the chair to sit next to you (......interesting, of all the seats?)

He looks around the room to find the tens of empty seats in the hall (you were oblivious to his advances that’s my girl)

He resumes the lecture with this in mind, his eyes occasionally darting to you

Obviously the student had no interests in the lesson, but just towards you

But you offer to lend your textbook to him, since he didn’t bring it (learning wasn’t his intentions, after all)

He leans closer to you as you push your hair behind your ears

Nothings gets past Lucien’s eyes (It’s the boyfriend radar in him)

“Mr. Smith, can you please explain the effects of rejection on the brain and its relations to physical pain?” (his lips curl to form a smile his eyes definitely weren’t smiling)

The student immediately understood the context, and scoots away from you in embarrassment “I...I don’t know, professor”

You glance back and forth between the student and Lucien, the latter having a look of satisfaction before continuing the lecture

“Jealousy is an unpredictable emotion. It can cause a person to become irrational and............dangerous”

The clock hits 5 PM, and the student darts out of the room as quickly as he came in

“Well, I suppose that’s the end of today’s lecture. Have a safe trip home, class”

You pack your stuff to leave when he calls your name

“Ah, Miss MC? Please stay for a bit. I need to talk to you about......preventing misunderstandings”

He locks the door

You don’t get out until 7

Gavin

Your frequent visits to the STF headquarters make yourself famous within the other evol agents

Everyone eyes the two of you as you drop off his lunch

You actually enjoy this situation very much (make his lunches EXTRA cute on purpose He blushes everytime he opens the box)

He is called in by one of the mission leaders to discuss their next plans

He squeezes your hand before heading over to a conference room

You stare at his deliciously chiseled back, unaware that Eli has appeared behind you

Ever since your first meeting with Eli, the two of you have grown considerably close (all you talk about is Gavin, after all)

He often updates you about Birdcop: what he's doing on missions, if he's well, if he got hurt (actually undermines any injuries he sustained during battle)

Eli knows how scary you can get

In return, you tell him about Gavin's cute moments

Like when he got drunk a few nights back and got jealous because you took a selfie with Sparky AND NOT WITH HIM (Eli adds this to his "How to Make Fun of B-7" list)

"I love him more than you do, MC"

"No Eli, he's MY boyfriend!"

The two of you, in your own world, laugh away as the argument over who gets custody of Gavin heats up

Meanwhile, Gavin notices the two of you through the one-way mirror in the conference room

You're laughing? Laughing the dorky, adorable giggle you only showed me? To Eli?

He's unable to focus for the rest of the meeting

He wants to storm out of the room and separate the two of you, but he knows his limits (he doesn't want you to see him acting so unprofessionally)

As soon as the meeting is adjourned Birdcop literally FLIES out the door and hides you behind his back

You're slightly annoyed because your "Things Gavin Says in His Sleep" discussion with Eli was interrupted

Then you realize the small barrier of wind blocking Eli from coming close

“Gavin...are you jealous?”

That was the first time Eli saw Agent B-7 flushed from head to toes (he secretly took a picture, and later showed it to the other agents)

We all love a good fluff

Whose imagine did you enjoy the most? For this post, I honestly can’t choose XD

[forbidding-souda]

sorry if this is a bit much but can i please request a female reader having a secret crush on souda & putting love letters into his locker? and then souda finds out its her and confesses? tysm!

Kazuichi Souda with fem! Reader that has a secret crush on him

Ya’ll are so creative this is so cute yes yes yes this is gonna get a lil cliche just bc it’s me and i’m outta pocket rn it’s 23:00 deal with me for now

I was gonna americanize it but I really wanted to go with my comfort of calling him Souda instead of Kazuichi - so on that note - does Hope’s Peak Academy have getabako’s????? Does anyone know??? Bc istg those kids wear their outside shoes in that academy.... maybe only the reserve course wears the indoor slippers LMAO.

Also btw am i the only one who liek??? Am I tripping or does my tumblr not notify me when my asks are answered? Bc when I checked the accounts of the people, my ask was posted, but I didn’t get a notification ya’ll am I tripping or.

-Mod Souda

Once again, you spend most of your class time with color pencils, coloring the edges of the paper you wrote on that morning. You shade in hearts, lollipops, and cute things of the sorts.

The writing, in perfect pen, just compliments him on the kind things about him. His beautiful smile, his joyful laugh... oh, just everything you love about him!

Even thinking about him makes your chest all fuzzy, plus a little twing of anxiety.

You have started putting love letters on his shoes in the getabako, which is a fine venting system to get your feelings out directly but anonymously, but when will you get tired of it? 

Putting your love letters in such a dirty area is disgusting on your behalf, too, but it’s better than risking it to try and put them on his desk.

It’s not going to satisfy your need for communication for much longer.

He’s also obsessed with Sonia, which isn’t a plus on your behalf. Just thinking about it gives you a headache. 

Souda, make it make sense!

You sigh through your nose once the bell rings. Pack up the color pencils and wait for him to put on his shoes and leave. That’s easy. 

Just like every other day.

He talks with Tanaka when he walks, passing your classroom. You distinguish his voice immediately.

It’s interesting, actually. The two of you have almost never talked. Well, maybe a bit.

You’re a nice friend of one of his classmates, so when you often get free time after school, you can sneak your way into the bunch.

Every conversation with him is ingrained into your memory. You couldn’t stop being amazed by him! His hair, his smile, his eyes. You complimented it all!

Now, you follow their voices down the hall, waving bye to your peers while slipping the note in your book bag.

Thoughts start to slip into your mind. What if he is going to start waiting by his getabako? Has he planted one of his friends to try and spy you out?

Maybe places them there isn’t safe anymore.

Or you’re just being overly suspicious. Jeez, this is all too overwhelming!

After putting on your shoes, you look over. His locker is void of people after all. 

Again, you put the note on his slippers before walking away.

How embarrassing.

The next morning, you wake up early to get ready for school. 

And then, you take time to start writing your love letter of the day.

Your mind seems to be occupied recently with Souda Kazuichi. Is that really healthy? 

Maybe you should start focusing on other things.

You should paint your nails. Yes, that’ll help!

What color does Souda like? He does like pink, doesn’t he? Pink will do then.

Sitting, with music playing softly in your house, you paint your nails a vibrant shade of pink while the sun begins to open up in the morning sky.

Being slow isn’t exactly your whole deal. So you were cautious enough to paint your nails after getting all ready. And with wet nails, you pack your halfway written letter and head out the door.

You blow on your nails the entire time there, whining once you notice the smudges on some of your fingers. Embarrassing! You should have spent more time to wait for them to dry. 

It doesn’t matter all that much anyways. Not like anyone will notice your nails.

Souda is putting on his shoes by the time you get there. Around the same time, how romantic.

You smile a bit.

“Hey, Y/N!” He greets. You take a short time to scan his person for the note. It’s tucked into his pocket, you can vaguely see. At least he has it.

“Good morning, Souda!” You wave to him.

He pauses for a moment. It draws you back a few steps. Is it not morning? Is that not his name? What did you say wrong?

“Did you paint your nails pink?” He asks, eyes wide with amusement.

That’s a relief. But also not. He wasn’t supposed to notice.

“Oh, yes I did, but I smudged them though so I’m not too happy about how they turned out.” Stepping close to him, you display your nails out.

“You did them this morning?”

Every part of you is nervous. What should you say? What can you even respond with? Will he think it’s weird?

“I had the time.” You just say before turning to but on your slippers. He smiles from behind your back.

In class, as usual, you spend your time decorating the card. And since you didn’t finish it in the morning, you even wrote some of the words in different colors! It looks cute, and it’s definitely a way to waste your time. Nothing really goes on in Hope’s Peak Academy. Who knew.

But eventually, after the school day, you put the letter on his shoes. Hopefully he isn’t cheating by waiting.

That always plagues your mind. But he wouldn’t do that.

The walk home is peaceful. The sky is cloudy again, and if you look up, it’s cellphone wires and a blueish grey hue. Not gloomy as always.

Maybe you’re just happy.

Happiness. It’s such a positive thing. A boy - that doesn’t even belong to you - is making you happy? It seems like such a timeless, fleeting thing.

Hopefully it can be permanent.

The morning comes again, where you eat breakfast and prepare for your day at the academy.

You stare at yourself a little longer in the mirror today. Would Souda like you? 

Your hands run down your shirt. Of course he would! You shouldn’t be so silly.

Packing up the daily note, you make your way to school again.

The sun peers down at you. That’s sweet. Brightening up your day.

It makes you laugh a little.

When you get to school, you don’t see him. He’s probably already in class.

You slip on your shoes before calmly walking towards your class.

Oh?

Souda stands, his arms crossed, looking anxious. 

You almost turn around.

Bye.

But he notices you quickly, his eyes lightening a bit. The deep fear in your gut doesn’t go away, only worsening as he steps closer to you. You’re frozen in place. Your feet have melted to the ground.

“H-Hey-”

“It’s you, isn’t it?” He almost looks excited.

“What?” Unbelievable.

“The notes... it’s you, right?”

Your cheeks start to heat. “Just tell me if you planted someone to wait for me to put them down. Is that how you figure it out? Jeez, I assumed you weren’t going to cheat like that!”

Every possible emotion swirls through his eyes for a second before settling on a soft smugness. He pulls out a letter from your pocket, and twisting it to show the back. “You smeared that pink nail polish on it.”

Honestly, you had assumed that had happened. It wasn’t a big deal until he noticed your nails that morning.

He continues, “But yes! I love the notes you give me, I was looking forward to them every day! I really think you’re cute, S/O... so do you want to go on a date with me... sometime maybe?” 

His confidence drizzles the more he went on.

Your heart levitates. It is like your entire body is surrounded by hearts.

“Oh, of course! That would be lovely!”

The two of you stand there, bewildered by each other. It’s quiet for a second.

“I - uhm... see you after school, then?” He suggests.

“That would be lovely, Souda.”

A blush forms on his face. “You can call me Kazuichi.”

[captlok]

Pacifism Isn’t A Character Trait

Or: MLK Day is Upon Us so Let Me Do You a Learn

Or: As An Aang Stan I Got a Bit Over-Zealous But Lemme Explain Why For A Hot Minute

Plus some History and Tumblr commentary that even non-ATLA fans can chew on

And by ‘hot minute’ I do mean this is going to be a long meta, so strap in.  For those of you who just might be tuning into this debacle, I, a person who has not used Tumblr, much at all, except for the last half year, ran into some trouble. 

If you wanna skip the whole TLDNR interpersonal stuffs and get straight to Why Aang is the Best Thing Since Sliced Bread, I will embolden the relevant parts, and italicize the crit of Korra, if you want that alongside.

I was excited that ATLA was seeing a resurgence due to the Netflix remake. I wasn’t even trying to apply any steep expectations for it. (learned not to do that the hard way with the last live action adaption, and to a much lesser extent, ATLOK, since it had good . . . elements, *ba dum tsshh*) 

So, these are a couple aspects of the issue: (1) Even on the internet, I am extremely introverted and until recently mostly came for content, not socializing. My main online interactions thus far have been in forums and artist-to-artist on DA. Tumblr is still very strange to me because it splits up its ‘threads’ so you can’t see all the replies if a certain pattern of users responds in their own space. I’m not even 100% sure it’s in chronological order, and replies are not nested next to each other so you can look in the comments and someone will be replying to something you can’t see in that window. And also since it is a bizarre hybrid of a blogging system, posts are somehow considered ‘owned by’ or an ‘extension of’ OP in a way forum threads are not. (2) ATLOK was good in a cinematic and musical way, to be sure. It also had some good concepts. I can go into it just appreciating it for the worldbuilding and be somewhat satisfied. But the execution was terrible. I was on AvatarSpirit.Net for years, and If I had maintained my presence on ASN to current day and had gotten around to downloading their archive now that the forum is dead, I would include some links to other peoples’ detailed analyses on just how flawed both the plotting and Korra’s frustratingly flat learning curve was especially in the first two seasons. But, that is a task for another day, and only if people are interested. 

No, what I’m addressing today, on the issue of Korra as a writing exercise, is how Mike and Bryan said specifically they wanted to make her ‘as opposite to Aang as possible’ and in so doing, muddied the central theme of the original ATLA series.

Now, again, I was mainly an art consumer for my first major round of ATLA fandom. Tumblr is an alien beast to me. But, after I write my first major Aang meta, talking about how amazing it is that he has the attitude he does, and how being content in the face of this overwhelming pain and suffering is an ONGOING PROCESS and an INTENTIONAL DECISION and not a simple PERSONALITY TRAIT, I start hearing that Aang gets a lot of hate from the fandom. Now this would be bad enough if it were merely people not liking his crowning moment of pacifism because they don’t understand the potential utility (I’ll elaborate on that in another post) or the ethics involved.

Aang is easily the most adult member of the Gaang. But he apparently gets hate for his few moments where he actually acts his age, a preteen, and maybe kisses a girl in a historical timeframe in which ‘consent’ discussions were probably nonexistent. Even in the present day, we are still practically drowned in movies that reinforce this kissing without asking trope. And even some female bodied people complain that asking kills the mood! But somehow he is responsible and reprehensible for this, even though the first time she kissed him back. I’m only going to get into the pacifism discussion today, but that was just another layer of annoyance bouncing around in the back of my head.  Other peoples’ crit of Korra that was stewing in my subconscious, plus this Aang bashing, which thankfully I had not directly read much of, made up the backdrop of gasoline for the match that set it off.  Even that seems a pretty melodramatic way to phrase what I actually said, which was: Aang, on the other hand, lost dozens of father figures and was being steamrolled by Ozai who was gloating about genocide TO HIS FACE, yet he still reigned in all that quote, ‘unbelievable rage and pain’ (The Southern Raiders). We Stan Aang, the Superior Avatar. No I did not f**king stutter. #AangSupremacy In another meta, someone complained that I was too defensive of Aang as a character and didn’t apply literary analysis enough, which I quickly rectified.

What set this off? Someone was kind of indirectly praising the line from Korra,  “When I get out of here, none of you will survive” To them it was emotionally resonant or whatever, and I have to point out that no, it was a martial artist not having control of their state of mind, as is the bedrock of the practice. It was never addressed by the narrative, which is a severe oversight.  I had a conversation with someone in the chats, making this distinction between Korra’s character traits and life philosophy. If she were to kill people while enraged and she was fine with that, that’s one thing. But if she regretted it, that’s a whole other kettle of fish. People argue that she comes from a warrior culture, unlike Aang.

Never mind that warrior monks are a thing. That’s what Shaolin monks are. You can be a pacifist and skilled at fighting. Those things are not mutually exclusive, which is the whole point of Bagua, Aang’s style.  And also, Katara’s style. 

That’s one reason I like Kataang so much- their congruent styles. Both of their real world martial arts are dedicated to pacifism, even though ATLA specifically doesn’t spell that out for Katara and her learning arc. 

There was a meta where someone briefly tried to argue that knowing “martial arts” is against pacifism. No. Quite the opposite. I’d argue that you are not a true pacifist unless you know exactly how to handle yourself if someone attacks you.  If you are not in a position to make conscious decisions about how much force to use, rather than merely operating on survival instincts, that is not pacifism. Or at least, not any energy or effort towards pacifism as a practical everyday tool.  I’ve made a few attempts to learn some tai chi and aikido, and it’s improved my physical and mental health, but some other things have gotten in the way. #lifegoals

I’m not going to tag the unfortunate soul whom I was replying to, because they’re probably tired of all this, but I’ll be sending them a PM to say that I’ve made this into a different post, because as I mentioned before, threads are somehow considered “owned” by OP, so it’s been pointed out to me that I should separate it.  I also said, I have basically ZERO respect for Korra uttering violent threats when the writers already minted a far more emotionally devastated and yet still resilient and centered character earlier in their franchise. People always try to excuse away people who genuinely like Aang more.  As if it’s just nostalgia or whatever. For me, no, it’s absolutely not. It is respect for a character who stands toe to toe with real people who are kind in the face of overwhelming injustice. (I have another meta on that). 

Both OP and people in the chats try to make excuses that she wasn’t raised as a pacifist, and that would be fine if they had addressed it with Tenzin and she had stated outright that she was rejecting pacifism and mind training. As it is, we are left with this nebulous affair where the lines between ideology and personality traits are blurred. 

We are told she “has trouble with spirituality” but what does that even mean? Does she have trouble with focus? Does she have trouble relating to the canonically real spirits? And pacifism specifically nor inner peace that it flows from is never even talked about as an extension of spirituality, which is canonically tied to airbending.

“Aang didn't have to deal once with the loss of his autonomy in atla” OP claims.

This was after I had noted that Aang was getting kicked around by Ozai and was most likely going to die.  Similarly, someone in the chat rejected the idea that a 12 year old trapped in a stone sphere that is heating up under a cyclone-sized blowtorch feels powerless. 

Sorry but that’s flat out ridiculous.

No one wants to admit that both of these people were faced with similar situations, and when push came to shove, one showed his LIFE PHILOSOPHY through conscious effort, and the other was abandoning the basis of martial arts, which is, no matter what the situation, keep thinking. Hold the panic at bay. Non-attachment would have served her well in this situation. Tenzin should have told her this. Before, or afterwards. It should have been addressed in the writing.  

People see this as “bashing” Korra, and oh well, can’t help that. If I think the writers didn’t follow through on their themes, that is my concern.  OP said I was “offended.” No, not really. 

I wasn’t offended by the post itself, or its commentary. Thought I made that pretty clear.

This is not dramatics. Let me be blunt.

As a ideological pacifist, and an actual practitioner of meditation, based on Buddhism, NOT just the fan of some show, I am for calling out writers who write one way from the survivor of genocide, and then stray from that ‘thoughtless aggression is immoral no matter HOW hurt I am’ to ‘let’s not address this character’s aggression in the narrative whatsoever.’ OP attempted to derail by accusing me of being racist or sexist against Korra. Also ridiculous. It honestly should have set me off more, but it didn’t. 

Meditation is about reigning in your emotions. Managing your anger when it gets out of hand, and digging down to the roots of it. Being responsible for your own behavoir. Acknowledging ownership of your own actions. Not blaming anything YOU DO on anyone else or any circumstances in your life. Like an adult, or should I say, an enlightened adult.

Or at the very least, that is the ideal ypu strive towards while being imperfect in the present.

. . .

Now.

I’m going to quote a passage in a Google Doc of mine, even though I’d really prefer if you asked to read the whole thing, with context.

“What do humans do when it is necessary to, or greed makes a nation want to recruit?

They go to the army to get trained, right?

Granted, having someone scream and get spittle on your face is, in the grand scheme of things, poor preparation for having bullets whiz past your chest and grenades shatter your ears. And, what do you do to prepare you for the pain of getting your leg blown off? Hopefully, nothing. Like taking a test where you only got half the study guide. But, it’s about the most ethical way to go about it, right?

Not everyone even sees action. So any more more extensive mental preparation for physical pain than that, and you’d have people definitely protesting.

Well, as it turns out, pacifistic protestors themselves, if they were in the right time and place, also very intentionally do this type of mind training. Except, when they did it, they actually did sit still and took turns roughly grabbing each other and throwing each other down and in some cases, even kicking and bruising each other.

Turns out, those pacifists are, in some ways, more hardcore than the army.

Why is this?

Because a pacifist’s aim, unlike a unit, who wants to gain the upper hand in a situation, is to grit their teeth and grind their way through all those survival instincts, and totally submit.

In this, they aim to get the sympathy of the public, who clearly sees they are not aggressive, or a danger, no matter how much the footage is manipulated or suppressed.

In this, they hope to appeal to their attacker’s better nature.

Make them stop and think, wait a second, are these people a threat like we’re told they are? I’m attacking someone who’s letting me beat them up. Or a bunch of people. All forming a line, and letting us peel them off. Or sitting, and bowing their heads. If I’m on the ‘right’ side of things, the law, why am I doing this?

It’s not like a bully, who’s just a kid.” They’re more self-aware.

And might I add the situation influences a pacifist’s actions too. There’s no reason to let a single or a few random attackers beat you up if you can evade or disable without permanent damage.

Pacifism is a dynamic set of responsive actions informed by values. Not a proscribed set or a checklist.

But in terms of organizing against state power, and recording wrongdoing, which unlike during the Civil Rights can happen from all angles from smart phones nowadays, these are the motivations.

“So, the pacifist knows this, and that’s why they go through all that trouble of training themselves to, not only submit, but not turn tail and run, either.”

See, a character trait is something like being a morning person, or ways of handing information, or a given set of emotions a character feels. Once you cross over into actions, you must make the distinction of whether an impulsive character agrees with their own uncontrolled actions, or is embarrassed or remorseful. Those are life philosophy. Now sure, one type of person or character may be more likely to subscribe to pacifism, but there is no gatekeeping on what you have to feel or how you look at things. You can be easygoing, or feel all the rage in the world, but as long as you at least attempt to have a handle on those desires and feelings to where they do not cross into actions, you are still doing the work of metacognition, which is what martial arts and its accompanying mind training are for.

It’s what we see Aang do.

He’s informed us, during the Southern Raiders, on how much rage and pain he feels.

Pain points, TRIGGERS, that were directly struck at when Ozai gloated over him.

He joins with all the past Avatars for several moments, and just like every other time he is in the Avatar State, he is enraged. He wants to exact revenge on the unrepentant grandson of a baby murderer.

We see it when he turns his head away, face still screwed up in anger.

For another example, I could cite my difficulties in being aware and reining in my tongue sometimes. I know the roots of these issues and I seek to let them go.

It’s just that process takes way longer than Guru Pathik would have us assume.

In fact, I would even say that Aang’s portrayal throughout the three seasons is not strictly a realistic representation of at least the sad side of grief. I addressed that a little when I talked about real life figures. But what it IS, is a metaphor that cuts very deep to the heart of pacifism. As I showed in that Doc . . . There is no limit of suffering a pacifist is willing to go through, internal or external, for the preservation of peace.

This was demonstrated during the Civil Rights, and with Gandhi and all his followers beforehand, inspiring them. The pacifists’ method of swaying hearts is probably the reason BLM exists in such numbers as it does today. Will the types of narratives that correspond with their full stories of the way they collectively planned and trained for and approached conflict make it into fantasy media? I’d say, probably not. For a host of reasons.

It could be hoped for, I guess.

But we DO have Aang.

As for myself, whether speaking sharply is an “action,” per se is up for debate- certainly it doesn’t seem to violate the non-aggression principle put forth by the vision of a “stateless society.”

For another example, let’s take my explanation at the beginning. I am examining how circumstances affected my actions, and now am attempting to fix it, if indeed it needs to be fixed. 

At least one person said that it not so much what I said, but how and when I said it. I don’t actually think I’ve said anything “wrong” per se. So I have to figure it out. 

[I’m considering splitting up this next part into a second post, as it only slightly relates to pacifism itself and is just kinda some more commentary on Tumblr itself- Tumblr discourse, as it were]

[I’ll put more brackets when I’m done in case you want to skip this part as well]

An interesting social difference between Tumblr and other places is this command you often get, “don’t chat/reblog/message me back.”

This is interesting for several reasons. For chats and reblogs, other people may be following the “conversation,” so it’s actually pretty rude and presumptuous to tell a person not to respond to whatever you said, because other people watching still may be interested in your take.

In a forum setting, if someone involved in a conversation doesn’t have anything left to say, usually they just don’t respond.

This method would work perfectly fine for Tumblr, but for some reason, maybe its super odd format, probably due to the “ownership”/“extension of self” I mentioned at the beginning of the essay, people don’t tend to do this.

Now, in comment sections, sometimes you’ll run across an amusing sort of “mutually assured destruction” where two people both say this to each other. You’d better stop responding. Omg just give up. Why are you still arguing. Etc.

But see, no matter where this behavoir pops up, and no matter who starts in on it, those who do this usually want to have the last say on the matter.

Instead of merely not replying, they want to assert verbal control over the conversation.

Tumblr, in its weirdness, is also sort of like a mutant comments section. You can post comment section threads as your own post.

Which is one reason why I’m puzzled when people say ‘don’t read the comment sections’ when Tumblr is so popular.

I’m an oddball in that I browse comment sections for fun.

Probably due to alexithymia, I didn’t really comprehend the emotional toll it takes on many people, so the warnings to “stay out of comment sections” read to me like “hey don’t eat that dessert.” After I’m done with the ‘meal’ of an article or art, I like to see what lots of different people have to say about it. The fluff. Anything vitriolic I either blip over, or extract anything useful, or if I judge the person is reasonable enough, I might engage.

Sometimes I mis-judge on how reasonable someone is, and I shrug and move on after being cussed out or whatever.

In this, I suppose I succeed much of the time in being a verbal pacifist.

[But let’s get back to the more serious stuff.]

We’re talking about what is done in life or death situations, here.

For myself, I may in the near future be working more with dangerously mentally ill people. I’ve had a little exposure to it through various means. Nurses are obligated not to retaliate against patients, and those who have, have been fired in some situations. Again oddly, this is not primarily what triggers my anxiety. Unfortunately enough, this requirement has also resulted in nurses getting seriously injured and violated. I hope to influence whether “no harm” techniques such as tai chi and aikido and arm locks may be allowed. The voluntary philosophy I was luckily already on board with is enforced by bureauacracy, directly relevant to my potential profession.

Were someone to get involved in a dangerous profession, such as a police officer, their moral duty would also be to own up to any spur of the moment anger or fear they acted on. 

It’s just that their bureaucracy acts differently, in excusing their actions.

Ideally, they would be taking steps far in advance, to avoid this often-cited fear of death reaction. As training pacifists like Aang do. 

And yes, army people are trained differently than police officers because the army, often, even when threatened, is supposed to avoid engagement or deploy deterrents that are non-lethal almost all costs, unless ordered otherwise. Whereas American police are given pretty much complete discretion and often not taught de-escalation techniques. Even police from other nations are better trained in that regard.

Enter the ironically named @avatarfandompolice whose account description should really speak for itself. Combative, dismissive, and their attention-hungry bread and butter is to find people they think it’s acceptable to ridicule.  They basically tried to say trauma was a valid excuse to take out your anger on other people, and in this situation, potentially kill. 

Now, does this hold up in the real world? Yeah, sometimes. Especially if some law breaker or law keeper has not been given the anger management tools, they perhaps could be excused, or better yet, rehabilitated.

But especially if anyone finds themselves in dangerous situations, or intends to put themselves in such, it falls to them to do this preparation.

As an aphant, I am at a bit of a disadvantage, compared to an average martial artist, being unable to visualize an attacker. But I still attempt it.

As the main “police officer” of the world- the coincidentally blue clad figurehead that is supposed to keep order, it is apparently fine for Korra to not do the work Aang did to keep level. To blow it off as too much trouble: clearing the First Chakra of fear. For herself or others. And its resultant anger. Had she had access to the Avatar State, the authority figure pretty much would have killed people.  This is what the “fandom police” and a certain chat goer ultimately support. Maybe they didn’t understand it that way, and since the second had blocked me, they will also never see this explanation. Unless I were to share it in Google Doc form I suppose.

So, I responded. “Remember kids, you are not responsible for your own behavior if you have the excuse that someone else did something bad to you.” A frighteningly common sentiment on this site.

When it’s low stakes like CAPSLOCKING or internet fights, that’s not such a big deal. But what happens if this attitude leaks into the real world? This isn’t even about Korra or Aang anymore, it’s about toxic mindsets. I didn’t know fans taking pro-Korra posts as anti-Aang was a common in the fandom. I’ll say again I’ve only just gotten really active on Tumblr like the past few months. This is about pacifism itself. MLK and his hardworking, training followers (yes some of them sixteen and POC and not super-powered like Korra) facing down firehoses and staging sit-ins long trained for would shake their heads at this defense of reactionism. 

Pacifism is not a Personality Trait.

It is deliberate actions and preparation taken over a period of time.

Then the “fandom police” tried more of this, and these two conversations ensued, the comments with another user resulting in the title and main thesis of this essay:

https://captlok.tumblr.com/post/638777472806273024/avatarfandompolice-response-to-my-independent

https://captlok.tumblr.com/post/638806142933467136/the-plight-was-not-what-i-was-getting-at-it-was

[cilldaracailin]

We Are The Champions

Hello my Tumblr Lovely’s,

Happy Tuesday except for me it is a Happy Thursday as today is my Thursday as I have a long weekend ahead of me! Woohoo! Can’t wait! Really wanna go and get a new piercing but it is such an effort to get into Dublin now with all the stuff going on... Anywhoo, here is the next part to this story.

So quick question... Who is ready for some drama? Raise your hand.

Oh you are? Brilliant!

Your wish is my command!

Suze xx.

As always, I do not know Taron and this story is all fiction and a story and is not a true representation of Taron and his family. All made up.

10

“Instead of worrying about what you cannot control, shift your energy to what you can create.”

After nearly two hours of lazing in the sun, Robyn who had been laying on her stomach got to her knees and took the air pod from her ear. She rubbed her eyes and looked to her left, Tina sitting on her deck chair reading a book, Guy and the girls nowhere around. To her right, Taron lay on his back but he wasn’t asleep as she could see him tapping along to the song on his stomach.

“Hey rocketman.” She saw him turn to look at her. “You promised me a laze about, a picnic, a swim but also a stroll. Wanna go for a walk?”

Taron grinned and nodded. “Please.” He sat up. “It is good to stetch out some muscles after sunbathing.”

“Make-up are really going to have tone you down.” Robyn laughed as she stood up, reaching for Taron’s hands to help him up.

“Matthew knew what he was doing letting me go for the weekend. He knew my plans.” He took a step closer to her. “And at last I see those freckles returning.” He tapped her nose. “Only took a year.”

“Don’t get used to them. They will be gone the next time you see me.” She saw his face fall a little. “Come on. You owe me a stroll.” Linking her arm with his, she led him towards his mam.

“Tried of catching some sun?” Tina asked, putting her book down.

“Taron promised me a stroll.” Robyn answered truthfully.

“Guy and the girls went for a walk too. Bit disappointed they never got their second sandcastle.” She grinned. “He told them they needed to search for special stones for their castle so they have wandered off with their buckets.”

“We will help them when we come back.” Robyn replied.

“No rush. The girls will want to search the whole beach for the perfect stones. They will be a while yet. Go. Enjoy a walk. The crowds have whittled down a bit. Lot of people have headed home.”

Making their way to the water, Taron took the inside, closest to the water, Robyn beside him but she ran a few steps away from him when he used his foot to splash her.

“None of that!” Robyn chuckled, keeping her distance from him, but when he grinned reaching out for her hand, she took it and moved back beside him now both walking through the waves a little. “And don’t be sad either.”

“Sad?” He asked, making sure to link his fingers with hers.

“I know we have been quite lucky with how much we have seen each other lately and we just don’t know when it will happen again.”

“And I am so bloody close to you but yet it hasn’t worked at all in our favour.”

“Hey now, you still have lots of time left in Belfast.”

“But it is mixed in with all the travelling back and forth to London.” He laughed as Robyn dropped his hand and gave him a hard push with her two hands, Taron stumbling into the water, his green shorts getting wet.

“Robyn! What was that for?” He shook his wet hands at her, before pulling her into him, the water drops on his skin pressing onto hers, hearing her laugh more. “Seriously? You said stroll.” He rolled his eyes as she still laughed at him and without thinking swung his left arm around her, pulling her close into him. “Evil woman.”

“I want you smiling, not sad.” Robyn answered him, sliding her right arm around his back to his waist, her left hand touching his fingers on her shoulder. “We have been here before. We know we will see each other again and we know we can’t really plan it and it just happens but I don’t want to see you sad because that makes me sad and I have had the best weekend. Best in a long time actually. We will work it out. We always do.”

Taron agreed with a kiss to her temple. “I have loved this weekend.”

“Snowman and all?” Robyn asked laughing.

“I swear, I can pick you up and chuck you in the ocean again.”

“Oh yeah?” Robyn teased, tickling his side.

“Robyn, I will do it.” Taron said as he dropped his arm from her shoulders, stopping their walk suddenly. “You know I will.”

“You gotta catch me first!” Robyn took to a run, a run at full speed, as best she could on the wet sand, her feet sinking into the sand making it hard to run and she knew Taron would be right on her heels and as expected and perhaps quicker than she thought, Taron was right behind her. She heard him laughing and kept on running, dodging people on the water line, which gave her a bit more of an advantage on the gap between them, as Taron had to also avoid colliding with people who were still on the beach. Robyn could feel her heart racing with excitement and kept up her pace with no idea how close or far Taron was from her and she jumped and shouted when he grabbed her right around the waist, lifting her up and against him.

“Got you! And now you are going in!” Taron had chased after Robyn, smiling at her ridiculously silly antics but he loved her for it and eagerly ran after her, cursing as the people in the water got in his way, Robyn getting quite far ahead of him. He picked up some speed and ground when there was a clear path through and even though she was still running, he caught up with her and wrapped his arms around her tightly, stopping her, lifting her from the sand with his two arms, cradling her against his chest. “Right. You’re in for it now chicken!”

Taron got three steps into the water when his head turned on hearing someone shouting his name and not just shouting it, but roaring it.

“TARON!”

With Robyn still in his arms, he stopped, the waves lapping at his calves, his head turned to see Guy running his way looking extremely flustered and upset. Taron carefully set Robyn down and met his step-dad on the sand.

“Taron…” Guy was breathless from his run. “Have… you…” He placed his hand on his chest and the other on his step-sons shoulder.

“Guy, take your time.” Taron felt Robyn come and stand beside him.

“Guy?” She asked seeing the distress on his face. “What’s going on?”

“Mari.” Guy managed to get out, finally catching his breathe. “Have either of you seen Mari?”

Robyn looked to Taron and saw his whole face pale, his eyes wide. “Not since the picnic. Mam said you went with the girls to look for stones for a sandcastle.”

“And we did. We were up at the other end of the beach and were looking for the stones and the two girls were right beside me. Rosie found a stone and was showing me and I turned around and Mari was gone.”

“Guy…” Taron placed his two hands on the older man shoulders.

“She has gone wandering and I can’t find her. Your mam is worried sick.”

Robyn could see the worry immediately set hard in Taron’s face, the same fear in Guy’s face too.

“You searched where you were?” Taron asked. “All around the other end of the beach? She didn’t go to mam to show her stones?”

“No Taron!” Guy snapped. “She isn’t there. She isn’t with your mam and Tina even called Eve to see if Mari walked to the café and she isn’t there either. Tina was nearly in the sea searching for Mari until I pulled her out. We can’t find her anywhere.”

“Did you check…”

“Everywhere Taron!” Guy yelled, his hands going to his face.

Robyn stepped in front of Taron and reached back to take his hand, giving it a very reassuring squeeze. “Ok let’s just take thirty seconds.” She kept speaking quickly before Guy got any more upset or angry. “First off, Mari knows not to go near the water. It is something that she was taught from a very early age so I am very sure you can cross that off your list.” She saw Guy’s raised shoulders hitch a little higher. “And second, she is a smart little girl. She knows where your family was sitting, where to go.”

“Because you know my child so well?” Guy said to Robyn, almost spitting the words her way. “You think because you came dressed as a Disney princess and did some face paint, you know my children?”

“Guy!” Taron was taken aback at how he had spoken to Robyn and went to move to stand beside Robyn, giving her hand a very tight squeeze.

“No Taron. My eight-year-old daughter has gone missing and she thinks she can just talk her way…”

“She was trying to help!” Taron replied angrily.

“Ok. Ok enough!” Robyn turned to Taron. “Enough.” She looked to Guy then. “Why don’t you take Taron as you were going to do and I will walk the water up and down and keep an eye out.”

“Robyn…”

“Go with guy Taron. I will walk the water’s edge up and down.” She placed a calming hand on his shoulder. “Get your mam to stay at the deck chairs in case she comes back to that spot. Check the bathrooms too.”

Without another look at either of the men, Robyn side stepped around Taron and kept on walking in the direction they had been going, looking left and right for any sign of Mari, Taron watching her walk away from him, before turning back this his step-dad.

“Seriously?” He asked with a clear heated tone. “She was trying to help.”

“I don’t need her help. I need my daughter back.” Guy barked.

“And that was what Robyn was trying to do!” Taron walked around Guy and with speed, headed back along the shore. “Help get your daughter, my sister back with advice and suggestions on finding her. What you said to her, Jesus Guy.” Taron’s speed increased knowing he hadn’t far to go to get back to where their deck chairs were. “Talk about cutting her to the core. Robyn gave her everything to that party yesterday.”

“Takes more than a dress and some flapjacks to raise a family Taron.” Guy replied bitterly

“And it takes her patience, unbelievable kind and caring nature and sane advice to try and help us!” Taron shouted turning on his heels, water splashing around him. “Robyn doesn’t just panic in a situation like this. She stops and thinks it through, putting reasonable logic and perspective on what is going on, trying to keep calm and…”

“My daughter is missing!” Guy yelled.

“And Robyn was helping you find her! I know you are worried and I can understand this is stressful for you and mam but wouldn’t you rather have someone who is calm and composed, coming up with some helpful suggestions on first how to find Mari but second to ease some of your worries. She was helping, trying to alleviate your concerns and she was right. Mari knows well to stay away from the water and has done since she was little. She won’t go near it.”

“Taron, Robyn is not a part of our family and this is something for our family to be involved in.”

He felt his hands curling into fists by his sides and the exhale from his lungs was angry and suddenly Taron was fuming. “She is the reason I am still alive and here and you only have a tiny notion of what she did for me in the 7/11 during the most horrific experience of my life. As far as I am concerned Robyn deserved every right to be a part of my family when she put her hands on my chest, her lips on mine and gave me my life back. You would rather she just walked away when Richard called for help?” Taron took a step closer to Guy, his face just a few centimetres from him. “Robyn is my family and always will be and you will not speak to her like that.” Taron’s voice grew low, almost growling at his step-dad. “When we find Mari, you will apologise to her and apologise sincerely.” Turning around, Taron all but stormed up the beach, seeing his mam standing up, frantically looking around for Mari. Trying to calm himself down, Taron took to a light run to her. “Mam…”

“Oh Taron!” Tina threw her arms around him and buried her face into his shoulder. “She’s gone missing.” She quickly took her head away from his shoulder and placed her hands on his cheeks. “What has happened?” She saw Taron try to soften his face but his eyes were hard set. “Taron…”

“Nothing mam.”

“Taron…”

“Mam, not now.”

“Where is Robyn?” Tina had been so used to seeing her son stuck to Robyn all weekend, she looked around trying to spot her. She felt her husband come stand beside her and looked at his face and then back to her sons. “Right, what on earth is going on? Robyn?”

“Robyn has continued to walk along the shore towards the rocks, the way we had been walking.” Taron explained. “She is going to stay along the water’s edge and walk up and down.”

“Mari knows to stay away from the water when we are not with her.” Tina said firmly.

“That’s exactly what Robyn told Guy.” Taron answered, staring at his step-dad.

“But she still stayed at the water?” Tina asked.

“She thought maybe Mari would look for some smaller stones at the shore so said she would keep an eye out as she walked up and down.”

“Taron, I am really worried. Eve hasn’t seen her. She has taken Rosie for me to walk along the prom, hoping to catch her from a height. It’s not like Mari to just walk away from her dad.”

Taron reached for his mam’s hands. “Ok first off, let’s not panic. Mari has wandered off somewhere looking for stones and is on the beach. We all know she is not in the water. You have drilled that into all of us. Stay away from the water. Eve and Rosie have the prom covered; Robyn is walking the shore. I will take the left side of the beach and Guy is going to take the right side and we will search up and down both sides. Mam you stay here at the seats.”

“Taron, I can’t. I need to go and look for her.”

“Mam I understand you are worried but if Mari strolls back here and there is no one at the deck chairs, then she will get upset and scared. You stay here and I know it is hard not to look with us but you need to stay here in case she comes back here.”

“Taron is right Tina. If Mari comes back this way and none of us are here waiting for her, she will get upset.” Guy placed his hands on his wife’s shoulders, avoiding Taron’s eyes.

“It was actually Robyn’s suggestion to stay at the chairs.” Taron added quicky, his eyes going to Guy’s for a brief second, then looking back down to his mam. “Mari probably doesn’t even realise she is missing but rather still looking for the stones.” Taron said softly to his mother, giving her hands a reassuring squeeze. “We will find her. Guy and I will take our phones.”

“Robyn…”

“If Robyn finds Mari, she will bring her back here and you can call us. Eve has her phone?” Tina nodded. “Just take a breath mam. Mari is on the beach somewhere and we will have her back in no time.”

Without another word, Taron walked past her, dug into Robyn’s bag and pulled out his phone, slipped his feet into his runners and walked around the deck chairs and towards the left side of the beach, staying in the middle between the wall and shore, looking left and right, keeping an eye out for his sister.

When Taron left and was out of ear shot, Tina turned around to her husband. “What happened?” She saw Guy look over her head and with a pinch to his side, he looked to her. “He is pissed. What happened?”

“I am going to go and walk the beach, look for Mari.”

“Guy!” Tina called after her husband as he left her, grabbing his phone from the deck chair on the way past. “Men.” She muttered under her breathe, taking a seat in one of the deck chairs, picking up her phone, gripping it tight in her hands. Looking left, she just caught a glimpse of her son as he slowly walked down the beach and then to her right, her husband doing the same. Thoroughly confused, but very sure there had been a serious argument, Tina pushed it to the back of her mind, her eyes darting left and right, looking at every child who was within her eye line, praying one of them was Mari.

Robyn was desperate to give Taron a hug as she slowly ambled through the lapping waves, looking all around, trying to see if Mari was this far down the beach. She heard his voice travel her way as she walked away from him and heard the angry tone it held as he spoke to Guy and was sure it was for her benefit. As much as she appreciated how Taron had stood up for her, and obviously chastised his step-dad for how he had spoken to her, Robyn didn’t hold it against the older man. He was so clearly anxious and agitated by Mari’s sudden disappearance and in the heat of moment said some things she knew he didn’t mean at all. His little daughter had gone missing so of course his emotions were a little frayed and Taron’s short temper had already been tested over the weekend so both men were overly agitated. All she was worried about was Mari and as she came towards the far end of the beach, the number of people dwindling out, soon she was alone, heading for some large rocks which were clearly the cut-off point and end of the beach.

As she neared the rocks, Robyn stopped in her tracks, her eyes picking up a colourful swimsuit and one little girl standing on top of them, a bucket and spade in her hands.

“Mari.” Robyn sighed, her head shaking a little as she took to a jog but stopping as she was a couple of meters from the pile of stones, her whole face changing from happiness at finding Mari to worry at the amount of water between her and the rocks. “Shit.” At the end of the beach, the rocks on which Mari stood were slowly being covered as the evening tide came in and as Robyn wadded into the water, she could see that when Mari made her way up onto the rocks, the tide had yet to travel so far in and she easily could make her way up onto the stones but now was stuck and cut off from the clear pathway down, cold sea water blocking her way back to the beach.

“Robyn!” Looking up, Robyn heard her name, Mari finally seeing her. “Robyn! I am stuck! I can’t get down.”

“Ok darling. Don’t worry.” Robyn stepped further into the ocean, the water up to her calves. “I am going to come and help you. Stay where you are.” Robyn walked in a straight line until she could see the rocks under the waves and turning, now moved deeper into the ocean so the rocks were on her left side, the level of the water inching up her body until she was chest deep and right beside where Mari was stuck. Using her feet, she felt for some rocks and so very carefully climbed up the slippery stones, using her hands to drag herself up, getting to her knees and finally up beside Mari, the young girl throwing herself at her legs, dropping her bucket and spade, the shovel falling into the ocean, the waves dragging it backwards.

“Robyn!” Mari clung to the older woman; her head tucked into Robyn’s hip. “We always come here to the rock pools and I thought I could find some nice stones for the sandcastles and the water just came in so fast and I wasn’t watching and now I am stuck and the water is everywhere and blocking my way down.”

Crouching down, Robyn took Mari in for a proper hug, feeling the little girl shaking a little. “It’s ok darling. You are going to be just fine.”

“I come up here all the time with Dad and Rosie and we look in the rock pools but never when the water is so high. I climbed up from the bottom and when I looked back, I couldn’t see the end of the rocks any more. It was all just water.”

“You walked away from your dad.” Robyn said to Mari, moving away from her a little but keeping her in a hug. “You didn’t tell him you were going.”

“I only walked away for a minute.”

“Mari,” Said Robyn, her voice very serious. “You always tell your dad or mam if you are going somewhere or leaving them whether it is for a minute or just to wander a tiny bit away. Your parents and Taron are so very worried about you.” She saw her face fall. “I know you didn’t mean to walk away but you have all your family so concerned about you. Your mam thought you went into the water.”

“I would never go into the water.” Mari said her eyes very sad. “It’s dangerous. I didn’t mean to make everyone worry about me. I was just looking for stones for our sandcastle and I know the rock pools have nice ones.”

“Oh Mari.” Robyn hugged the little girl tight again. “I know you didn’t and I am just so glad you are ok and I found you. Now, we need to get back to your parents before they have the whole of Aberystwyth looking for you.” She gave Mari’s cheek a little kiss, her eyes darting to the water as it splashed against the rocks. Even with the few minutes she had been with Mari on the rocks, the incoming tide had travelled far and looking behind her, Robyn could see the only safe way back to the beach was by the way she had reached Mari, through the water. Without being able to see the rocks at the far end, she wouldn’t take the chance of even trying to walk Mari that way, knowing swimming her the short distance back to shore was the safest and easiest option. “Ok so we are going to have a little swim back.”

Mari’s eyes opened wide. “In the deep part?”

“You will be fine. I will hold you the whole time. It will only be a few seconds until we are back on the beach.”

“Can’t we wait for Dad to find us?” Mari asked.

Robyn shook her head. “I don’t know how long it will be before the water covers these rocks Mari or how long it will take your dad or Taron to walk this way and I don’t have a phone to call anybody. We need to get down from the rocks now before the water gets too deep. I promise I will keep you safe and look after you.”

“Like you looked after Taron?” She asked.

“Exactly like that. Now we are going to have to leave the bucket behind.” Robyn stood up and gently gave the red bucket behind Mari a little kick. “I will buy you a new one.”

“I don’t want a new one.” Mari said. “I just want my daddy.”

“Oh darling. I know.” Robyn bent down and picked Mari up, giving her a tight squeeze. “I am going to get you back to your daddy and I know you are a little scared about getting in the water but I doubly promise I will get you back to the beach. You just have to trust me, ok?” She felt the smallest shake into her shoulder. “Did Taron ever tell you how I went to go and swim with the dolphins?” She said to the little girl, feeling another shake of her head. “Well the water the dolphins lived in was much deeper than the water beside us and I spent nearly all day swimming in it with no floaties or rings, helping special little children as they swam with the dolphins.”

“You did?” Mari asked lifted her head and looking at Robyn.

“Yep. All day.”

“With no floaties?”

“Not one.”

“Swimming by yourself?”

“Uh-huh. I promise you Mari, nothing is going to happen to you or me. I will keep you so safe and my arms around you all time and if I can’t hold you, you just squeeze your arms around me.” Robyn saw her a little nod. “Ok darling.” Robyn hugged her again. “Now let’s get out of here.”

Still with Mari in her arms, Robyn looked around her to see which was the best way to get back down to the water, which way Mari would be able to follow her down and having already climbed up one part of the rocks, figured it was best to climb down the same ones. She set Mari down and carefully stepped down onto the rock below her, finding her feet and balance on the next one down before she reached out for Mari to join her. With a lot of hesitation and even more encouragement from Robyn, the little girl stepped down, squeezing tight onto Robyn’s hands.

“You are doing great already.” Robyn assured her. “I am going to step down again and you can follow me.” Robyn’s feet stood on a very slippery rock and tried to keep her face straight and confident as Mari depended on her to get her back safely to shore. As she kept Mari steady on the rock above her, Robyn glanced down and couldn’t see the next rock, the white breaking waves now biting at her ankles. “Ok Mari, we are going to have to do a little jump into the water.” She watched Mari’s eyes open wide. “It’s only a small jump and once in, we can be back on the beach really quickly. I am going to go first, hold my arms open for you and you can jump. I will catch you.”

“Ok Robyn.” Although she was frightened, Mari believed Robyn would look after her, keep her safe. She had already kept her brother safe and she absolutely trusted Robyn. She watched as Robyn took one long jump straight into the water, coming to the surface and turning around to her.

“Ok Mari.” Using her legs, to keep herself above the water, Robyn lifted her arms from the water and held them out. “On the count of three, ok? You will have to jump as far as you can.” So wary of the rocks, Robyn moved as far away as she could, still keeping enough distance that she could catch the little girls and then she started to count. She didn’t want a scratch of any sort on Mari, the little girl already being so brave with the mess he had found herself in, so kept as far away from the rocks as she could. “Ok darling, one, two, three.” Robyn had just finished saying three when Mari took a leap off the rocks, into the water and Robyn’s open arms, Robyn catching her tight, keeping the young girls head above the water. “Well done darling. So brave.”

“Can we go now?” Mari asked, her arms around Robyn’s neck. “I wanna see my family.”

“Of course. I am just going to move us away from the rocks and then we are going to swim towards the beach, ok?”

“Ok Robyn.”

“You just keep a tight hold of me Mari.”

Robyn could feel Mari’s arm creep around further her neck, both clasping together, her legs tightening around her hips. Keeping her right arm fixed around Mari’s back, Robyn placed her feet on the rock closest to her and pushed back hard, then kicked her legs, helping them to move away from the rocks, trying to get as much space between them and the sharp hard stones before she even thought about swimming them both back to shore. Taking a glance over her shoulder, Robyn did a double take as she saw a large rolling wave coming their way, one that was surely going to break over both their heads. With a strong kick, she turned them both around so Mari’s back was to the oncoming wave.

“Robyn?”

“There is a big wave coming. Don’t be scared. It is going to go over our heads but only for a second. Hold on tight to me. I am going to lift you up as high as I can and when I say so, you need to take a big deep breath for me and close your eyes.” She could see the panic set in Mari’s face. “Darling it is one wave, that is coming and it will be over before you know it. You go swimming all the time with your dad, right?” Mari nodded. “Ok so it is just like taking a big breath and going under the water. You can do this.”

“I am scared.”

“Me too Mari but it’s one big wave and then we are going to swim back to the beach.” Looking over her head again, Robyn had about ten seconds before the wave hit them. “I will count and you hold your breath, ok?” With the wave only seconds away, Robyn didn’t wait for Mari to answer her and hoisted up her higher, her two arms under her bum, kicking her legs very hard to keep them afloat. “Ok Mari. One, two, three.”

She watched Mari take a big breath, and as the wave hit Mari’s back and flowed over her head, Robyn was so busy concentrating on looking after the little girl, she forgot to take her own breath and wasn’t fully prepared for the force or power of the wave, and it would have flattened her if the rocks hadn’t been behind her. She ended up with a mouthful of seawater, most of which she swallowed as she silently cried out as her left outer thigh and back of her left leg rubbed hard against the sharp rocks, a stinging pain making her grip Mari tighter against her. As the wave rolled back, she managed to gain control of her body and kicked her legs, ignoring how her left leg throbbed and swam as best she could while still carrying Mari up high away from the rocks, finally getting her own head above the water when she was sure she a good two meters away from the rocks. Letting Mari slip down her body, Robyn coughed a little, feeling her stomach turning horribly with the sea water she had swallowed but pushing her own discomfort aside she looked to Mari, whose face was buried under her neck, her arms around her shoulders, her legs around her waist, clinging to her.

“Mari, you ok?” Robyn asked her, her legs kicking furiously under the water to keep them both up.

“I am ok.” She heard.

“Ok darling, let’s get back to the shore. I am going to turn you around and hold you against me and swim backwards.” Robyn carefully moved Mari so her back was against her chest and used her left arm to cross over Mari’s shoulder and once she was secure, kicked her legs moving them both towards the shore.

[ms-a-z-u-l]

The Alley (Dabi x Reader)

Summary- You meet Dabi in an alley on a regular basis until he tells you that seeing each other will no longer be possible. The only question left is: why?

Categories- Angst, romance if you squint 

Warnings- Only cursing 

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A/N: This one was actually already here but I accidentally deleted it. Also, for some reason Tumblr is not showing my posts with the tags and I have no idea how to fix that :,) I’m still uploading in the case some day it does and for those who can see it, thank you for reading! 

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“Go back, squirt”

“Why?”

With a sigh, Dabi turned around to look at you. You had barely gotten to your recent go-to place: a secluded alley, sure to keep away any lingering and curious eyes that could see you meeting with a villain nonetheless. Since the particular day you happened to be innocent bait (that’s what they thought you were) in order to rile up the new heroes, recently graduated from U.A with the respective names Shoto and Deku (they have been around the news a lot lately along with a certain explosion hero you couldn’t quite remember his name). Their plan ended up going wrong, nonetheless. As soon as the one grabbing you got distracted, you gave him in the shin as well as harsh bite to the arm and sprinted out of there.

However, you ended up stumbling into someone, and because luck was not on your side that day, it was not a hero but one of the villains at the site. You put up your decent fight and insults you could give (he particularly remembers the one regarding how he never learned how to use a stapler) and the name of “Charcoal” you gave him throughout that day.

Regardless, after the commotion ended and everyone escaped, you were let go by him in an alleyway without saying a word. It was odd. He didn’t say a word, but looking at his eyes, you could tell he might’ve wanted to say something, so out of curiosity you kept coming back to that alley in hopes he would be there.

And now here you were. You stopped counting the times you met in that place, it was a silent agreement when to meet that overtime you could just look at his eyes and know when he’ll be there. Today was different, though, today he was more serious and hadn’t thrown any half ass comment your way that made you tick. He hadn’t made eye contact and had his back toward you.

When he had finally looked at you though, you saw it. It was something seen usually in his eyes, but it was there. Resignation, but for what it was the question.

“I won’t come here anymore, so you should stop coming here too, maybe even pretend like none of this happened”  

You silently stared for a moment before opening your mouth, “But why? Did something happen? Did I do something? If you’re beginning to take my picking at you seriously, I’ll stop really, no worries” you said hurriedly trying to make sense why he wouldn’t want to see you anymore. However, you stopped talking when you saw his face harden as jumbles of words came out of your mouth. “It’s not any of that, stop babbling” he sighed again and continues, “It’s no use doing this. You sneaking in here just to talk to me, I don’t see the case anymore, besides you know it’s dangerous associating with me. You’re wasting your time and I’m wasting mine coming all the way here just to indulge you in conversations that can be forgotten as soon as we both go our separate ways.” With that, he started walking away. But of course, being you we’re talking about, you wouldn’t have that half-assed information that sounded like a way to get you to go away.

“I won’t take that shitty excuse from you. You never looked like you hated it and besides, if you were just wasting your time, then you would have never come in the first place when I first looked for you here, or the next or the next and all the times you came” you started grabbing onto his sleeve, pulling him to at least look at you, show any sign he was listening. Suddenly, you flinched. You started feeling a burning in your hand, and it was getting painfully hotter. When it got unbearable in a matter of seconds, you tried to quickly pull away, but Dabi grabbed you by the wrist and faced you. He had a cold expression, as if wanting to truly frighten you and drive you away. “I don’t give a damn what you thought all of this was. Just accept I got bored and tired of doing this and entertaining you. It’s not my fault you started getting any ideas and believe this could be one of those beautiful disgusting friendships you see on shows. This is real life, doll, and it disappoints you so bad that eventually you get tired of the shit that it pulls you to.”  

All you could do was stare in shock. You didn’t want to believe any words that came out of his mouth. It couldn’t be right, he wouldn’t have stuck around for so long, he wouldn’t have actually shown even the tiniest trace of genuine interest to what you both talked about and the mirth toward your antics. It was simply unacceptable, he was actually a part you began to look forward too. And now he himself wanted to take it away. “Then I don’t care either” you said confidently, however he misunderstood. “Good, this is easier on me now, see ya never I guess-“

“I don’t care what you said. Because i don’t believe it. Even if you say you got tired and bored, I’ll still come the next day, and the day after that one, until you really get tired of it and disappear completely. And if its about me being in danger, well if was that situation that got us to meet, so I don’t care either” you stopped talking with eyes closed, but a felt a presence. Slowly, you lifted your head and he was right there with an honestly unreadable expression.

“Um, ahh- well what I mean exactly is that I don’t believe your bullshit and I still want to stick around here and see you as weird as it may sound, don’ttakeittheotherwayplease-” among your nervous muttering and gradually fast talking, he lifted both of his hand. You didn’t flinch, to his surprise (he didn’t show it however) but rather waited for his next move. It wasn’t a harsh gesture, far from it, it was gentle. He was really cupping your cheeks and caressing the skin, his eyes finally changing, the only way to know how he felt cause he would damn himself if he said the feelings he held, whatever they may be.

“ You’re impossible.. and irritating.. and sarcastic as hell”

You huffed and rolled your eyes lightheartedly, “I got the point, as if you’re all roses and charm”

He lightly chuckled and continued, “If something happens, I only want you to remember the times we were here. Not a bloodied corse in the pavement, because let’s be honest here, this life I’m leading here only ends there, and I don’t want you getting involved in that and end up hurting you along the way, that’s why I want to stop it now, stop seeing me and getting more damn attached, is no good sticking with me-“

“But-“

“No, you listen to me, doll. You’re gonna go back home, go to sleep, and the next day when you wake up you go about your day as always and after you get out of your last class, go home and repeat, simple as that”

At this, your tears started to fall and you choked out, “No, no, I cant do that, you can’t ask me that!” You shook your head repeatedly, “Please, Dabi, don’t ask that of me, I can’t just up and leave and pretend you were never there. I know I don’t say it but I care about you”

“Doll, doll, hey look at me, common, you’re not hiding that pretty face from me are you” he said, squishing your cheeks.

“Dabii!” You exclaimed, not in the mood for any flattery.

“Ok, ok I’ll stop, but look at me” raising your head, and grabbing onto his arms, you waited for him to keep talking. “I’m not doing this it of malice as unbelievable as it may sound. I’m doing this cause, now that we’re letting it all out here, fuck it, I care about you too, and the least I want is getting you into a world that will only let you know of suffering. For the same reason that I care about you, Y/N, is why I want you to go back and have a nice life, and that means is gonna have to be without me.”

After a moment, heard you in a small voice, “But for me, a nice life means you’re in it”

As cliche as it sounded, your words actually touched Dabi. He knew it was dumb, considering what he wanted to do was to let you go, but you just so damn persistent, and he figured it might do for a proper goodbye. Witch that, he leaned down and left a single peek in your right cheek. It lingered more than he wanted to, but it was the first and last time he could feel you like that. All you could was blink out of shock. His lips were not soft like you read in books, they were rough, but somehow the fact that it was him made you care less about those ideal descriptions. Before fully pulling away, you heard him whispered, “Maybe in another life we get, doll”

................................

You couldn’t change his mind, is what you learned the next day waking up in your room. Both of you stayed siting in that alley talking for the last time until you fell asleep.

You knew you couldn’t change his mind when the next days he made good on his promise of not showing up at all.

Eventually, you did what he asked, going about the day with the exception of going to that secluded alley. You made few friends along the way who managed to distract you from time to time after lectures, hang outs at any place they stumbled upon. After an invite to a cafe, you said your goodbyes to them  and started walking home. Somehow, it felt odd. You thought it was your mind, but you kept feeling a certain way. You started looking around but saw nothing. Just when you gave up and started looking down, you saw a figure in the building across form the cafe, with widened eyes, you could see it, the coat slightly flowing behind him.

With a newfound small smile, you started walking again, witch the newfound knowledge that he never really left.

“Yeah, I guess we can meet each other in another alley, you asshole”

[retrievablememories]

date night | mark

title: date night pairing: mark x black!reader genre: fluff, non!idol au request: “I was wondering if you could do something about a first date with mark (and black reader). I don’t really care what the date is, you can choose” word count: 2.9k warnings: none that i can think of except some cursing a/n: iu’s “friday” is a very cute song and i think it could fit with this. on another note, tumblr & my computer hate me and erased the changes i made to this twice, so if there are errors bare with me...i’ll fix them later

“Do you think this outfit is okay?” you ask your friend over FaceTime, scanning the camera across your form so she can see what you’re wearing. “I don’t know. It’s just the fair, right? So it shouldn’t be anything too fancy...but…”

“Girl, it’s more than okay. Knowing Mark, he’ll like literally anything you wear. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

You hold the phone back up to your face again, giving your friend a skeptical look. “You better be telling the truth. You’re the one who arranged all this!”

“I didn’t arrange shit, I just gave Mark a little nudge in the right direction! You should thank me, he might've never asked you out on his own, the poor boy.” Your friend lies back on her bed and reminisces on her matchmaking skills, clearly pleased with her work this time—even though neither of you have any idea if the date will go well. Well, she already has her mind made up, but you can be a little harder to convince.

You hope it goes well, anyway. You really do like Mark, and you want things to work out with him tonight. You’ve never hung out with him alone before; it’s always been with a group of your friends, and your conversations with him were usually carried by the help of your friend’s interjections or Haechan’s jokes. 

For a while, you just figured that Mark was shy around new people, but he soon warmed up to your other friends who he hadn’t known before. But he still struggled to have a decent conversation with you. 

You didn’t understand any of it at first. You even thought that maybe he didn’t like you and was just terrible at hiding it. But after your friend got tired of seeing you angst over him, she let you in on what was really happening—he had a crush on you, too.

Now, you’re here—about to have your first date with Mark Lee and completely nervous about it, to say the least. You sigh at your friend’s smug expression.

“I’d hardly call what you did a nudge, but alright. Whatever you say, best friend.”

You know Mark and Haechan’s apartment complex is not far from yours, and yet it still catches you by surprise when you hear the knock on your front door. “Oh Lord, that’s probably him, I have to go!!” Your friend barely gets to say goodbye before you’ve ended the call. You scramble to grab your things and give yourself another once-over in your mirror before hurrying down the hall to open the door.

You stop at the door for a few moments and try to relax, attempting to make it seem like you weren’t rushing. Then you open the door to Mark standing on the other side.

“Hi Mark,” you say as naturally as possible, even though you’re practically jumping on the inside. He’s so handsome and cute that it’s unbelievable, even just standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking bashful and equally eager.

“Hi Y/N. You look really pretty today...I mean, you look pretty everyday, but today you’re especially, uh—a-adorable.”

“Thank you.” Your face is hot from his compliments, and you’re glad that he can’t tell past your brown skin. You step outside and lock the apartment door after you, turning to him with your heart beating wildly in your chest. “Are you ready?”

“Born ready,” he replies.

The place where the fair is being held is only a couple of streets over from where you live, so you both had already decided to walk there while planning the details of the date. You’re thankful it’s a nice summer night, not too hot or cold, though you’re both wearing jackets; it’s at the point of the season where the night starts getting chilly.

You and Mark make small talk on the way there, talking about casual stuff like what you did this week and what TV shows you watched the other night. He seems less nervous about talking to you than he is when you’re in a group with the others, but you can tell there is still some anxious energy around him.

Which doesn't really bother you, because you feel the same way and would rather be nervous together than anxious alone.

You can tell you’ve reached the fairgrounds when you start seeing more people gathered around and hear the loud festival music and screams of excitement; there’s already a considerable line to get in.

“Looks like we’ll be here for a minute,” you say, turning to Mark, though you aren’t really upset about it.

“That’s okay, I can be your entertainment until we get in.”

“Oh really? What are you gonna do, The Amazing Mark?”

“Whoa! That actually has a nice ring to it.”

“I know, right? Maybe you could use it as your performer name...so, Mr. Lee, how are you gonna impress me tonight?”

Mark decides to come up with a little freestyle rap on the spot, and you giggle at his enthusiasm. When he’s done, you give him a round of applause.

“Maybe you should be a rapper, you’re actually really good, you know.”

Mark feigns shock, pretending to be offended, and you laugh more. “Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

“Well, you��” You’re interrupted when someone behind you clears their throat loudly—the line has already moved up and you didn’t notice it. You grab Mark’s arm and pull him along with you. You decide to keep your hand there, looping your arms together. Mark blushes at that, a bashful smile on his face though he tries to hide it, not wanting to seem inexperienced.

When you finally get your tickets and go in, you and Mark debate over which rides to try first. You convince him to ride the huge looping rollercoaster, though he’s more than a little apprehensive about it. You can practically see the sweatdrops gathering on his forehead.

“Are you sure? If we get on the most exciting ride right away, the rest will seem boring…” He chuckles, scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m sure! But, you don’t have to get on if you’re too scared.” You tease him, letting go of his arm and walking towards the ride by yourself. “You can stay here!”

“No way—I-I’m not scared! You’re not leaving me behind,” Mark catches up with you as you go over to the ride and you smirk to yourself, glad that your reverse psychology worked.

You and Mark end up going on most of the rides the fair has to offer. You laugh at him once you both get off the rollercoaster, his hair windswept and sticking up in different directions. The ferris wheel makes you a bit dizzy, especially when you reach the very top, but Mark distracts you from the height by pointing out how pink the sky looks from this angle. The sun is close to setting, and its shining rays make Mark’s hair and eyes look like they’ve been set ablaze with warm, brown light. He looks back at you, and you abruptly bring your gaze up to the pink sky, pretending as if you weren’t staring at him the whole time.

Even the merry-go-round is fun with Mark pretending like he’s in the middle of a classic Western, riding his noble steed and playing the part of a brave, handsome cowboy.

You eventually take a food break when you get hungry, and you’re secretly thankful for the pause; your head’s spinning with how many rides you’ve been on. You don’t know the last time you’ve had this much fun at a fair, though, and you’re grateful for the change in your usual routine.

While you’re walking around the fairgrounds, you spot one of those ring toss games where you have to hit a certain number of bottles to win a prize. Mark notices your interest.

“Do you wanna play?” he asks.

“Hmm, maybe…” you say, your eyes drifting along the wall of prizes they have. One of them is an adorable stuffed dog with its little red tongue hanging out, and you immediately fall for it. You turn to Mark with your eyes shining. “Hey, Mark…”

He laughs, already one step ahead of you. “I’ll try it, then.”

In the end, Mark only gets the ring around 2 bottles. You giggle all the while, watching him give his best throws and still miss. 

“Hmm, that was just a warm-up round,” Mark insists once the game ends and he still hasn’t made any more wins. He cracks his knuckles and does an exaggerated stretch. “Check this out.”

“Oh, if you say so…” You smile as you watch him go for another round. The employee manning the game gives him a half skeptical, half amused look but lets him have another try. Unfortunately, the results are the same—he manages to get rings around two of the bottles while the rest remain untouched.

You walk up to Mark and pat him on the back once the game is over, and he gives you a sheepish smile in return. “Sorry, Y/N...I tried.” He turns back to the employee. “What kind of prize can I get with that?”

They pick a small keychain off the wall and hold it up. It’s a tiny replica of your city, with the name of it written in blocky, fun letters. “Pretty much this.”

“I’ll take it.” You hold your hand out for it and the employee passes it over. You give them a smile in return and look back at Mark, holding the keychain safely in your palm. “Let’s go! I don’t think we’ve tried the Tilt-a-Whirl yet...”

You and Mark don’t leave the festival until well after dark, and it’s a half hour to 10 when you check your phone. Even though it’s so late already, you’re still buzzing with energy and ready to hop to the next best thing. Mark seems to feel the same way, talking excitedly about all the things you saw and did at the fair.

His eyes sparkle with excitement, and it’s like his sheer elation transfers to you. Sometimes you wonder how he can manage to still be so childlike, but it’s endearing. The keychain sits safely in your purse, attached to your key ring where you clipped it immediately after getting it.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself today...even though I couldn’t get the stuffed dog you wanted.” Mark bites his lip.

You shake your head. “No, I had so much fun, that doesn’t matter! Really. Anyway, it’s not everyday you can go on a million rides in a night.”

“Forreal. Actually, I think might have permanent vertigo after this...”

You pause as a few drops of water hit your skin. They seemingly come out of nowhere, and it’s hard to tell if the sky is cloudy or not from the cover of night. But as more start hitting your skin, there’s no doubt about it—it’s rain. 

“It’s raining,” you gasp, and you barely have time to say anything else before the droplets start coming down harder. “Shit, my hair!”

To your surprise, Mark sheds his jacket and holds it over your head, pulling you closer. “We should make a run for it before it gets worse.”

“Where are we gonna go? Everything’s closed at this time of night,” you ask, but Mark is already pulling you along with him, and you can only speed up your pace to catch up.

“Whatever shelter we can find!”

Just like he predicted, the rain turns into a downpour and the water quickly permeates into your clothes, making you sticky and a little cold. You scream but keep running, not wanting the alternative of standing there and getting even more drenched.

You and Mark find a nearby coffee shop that’s still open and duck into it, shaking off as much rain as you can. You’re a little too soaked for it to be effective, but you’ll dry off eventually. One of the workers gives you both a weary look from behind the counter, and you know they’ll probably have a time cleaning the water up later.

You and Mark stand at the front counter and order your drinks, then take turns laughing at each other’s reflections in the counter’s metal surface. Your hair managed to avoid the worst of the water thanks to Mark’s noble move, but his own strands are plastered to his head. You nervously brush a few of them away from his forehead, saving him from the slow drips of water that keep falling in his eyes.

“You good?” you ask. You want to feel sorry for him, but you can’t stop yourself from cracking a grin at how cute and disheveled he looks. Like a soggy puppy.

“I’m fine,” he says, taking your hand that was just in his hair. “It’s just a little water...we can stay here until it stops raining, anyway. Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m alright.” You nod in agreement, not knowing quite what to say—you’re a little distracted by his hand holding yours. When you get your drinks, he lets go of you to take both cups, and you’re momentarily disappointed by the lack of contact.

You go to sit down at a small table near the window. It offers a clear view of the rain still pattering on the roads, and you watch cars kick up puddles of water as they drive past.

“That was kinda fun,” you say after taking a sip of your drink. You give a pleasant sigh at the feeling of the drink warming you up on the inside. “I mean, not so much the ‘getting soaked’ part...but the whole thing sorta reminds me of those romcoms.”

Mark cringes and laughs. “Are you into those kinda movies?

“It’s not a crime! They’re cute sometimes.”

“Is that a roundabout way of saying you want to be kissed in the rain? ‘Cause like, I-I’m up for it if you are,” Mark’s attempt at flirting is made unintentionally hilarious by him stammering midway, and you hide your face in your hands.

“Oh my God,” you groan. “You are really something else.”

Thankfully, the rain lets up just as the coffee shop starts closing up. You and Mark dispose of your cups and walk back outside, heading towards your apartment complex. You’re surprised at how much rain came down in such a small amount of time—the sidewalks and streets are completely waterlogged, and some of the water soaks into your shoes as you walk through the puddles. It’s still sprinkling a bit, but that’s better than being drenched.

The walk back is pleasantly quiet, the both of you finally having burned off the last of your remaining energy. You’re soon back at your apartment—maybe more quickly than you wanted to be—and standing in front of your door. You step away to look at Mark, pressing your back against the apartment door.

“So, I guess this is it?” You’re suddenly nervous again, unsure how the date is going to end—or how it should end. Will there be a kiss? Will he want to see you again? You’re sure he had a good time with you, but self-doubt can be a cruel mistress.

“I guess so,” Mark echoes. “Um, I—well, uh…” He seems like he wants to say something, but he gets a little stuck on the words.

“Maybe we should stop being so nervous around each other,” you blurt out, feeling your skin warm with embarrassment. Mark nods, scuffing his shoes along the floor.

“It’d probably be less awkward,” he admits, throwing you a nervous glance. 

You shrug, trying to seem more nonchalant than you feel. “I enjoyed myself, though. And, y-you know, I definitely wouldn’t mind going on another one…if you’re up for it?” You look at Mark from below your eyelashes, and he meets your eyes too, a cute grin spreading across his lips.

“Of course! Y-yeah, absolutely, we can text each other about it.”

“Great!” You clasp your hands together, racking your brain for something else to say. Lucky for you, Mark helps you out by asking,

“Can I....kiss you?”

Your breath hitches and you look at him with wide eyes. “Y-yes.”

Mark steps closer to you and his hand goes to your waist. You’re almost afraid you’re going to melt from all the different emotions you’re feeling, but you try to keep a steady expression as his face moves closer to yours. When he kisses you, his lips are gentle and sweet, like him.

You both smile shyly when you pull away, until you finally remember you’re standing outside your apartment door and need to unlock it. “Ah, right…” You unlock the door and step inside, looking back at Mark once you do. “I’ll see you later, okay?” You give him a small wave, and he returns it.

“See you.”

You allow yourself to let out the breath you were holding once you get to your bedroom. You want to throw yourself on the bed, but your clothes are still wet, so you opt for screaming into a nearby pillow. After dancing around the room for a moment or two, you dig into your purse so you can text your friend, and your hand bumps into your key ring.

You pull it out and look at the little keychain again, holding it carefully between your fingers and studying its design. It’s tiny, but it’s cute and wonderful and it reminds you of Mark, making little butterflies rise up in your stomach. It’s perfect.

[scrambleddragonegg]

Alright dumbasses here we fuckin go

I am literally writing this directly on my tumblr so shhhhh it’s fine. this is for @cephuss because they’re the only person i’ve gotten a prompt from.

I am literally begging you to send more I want to contribute to the fandom <3

Also, please put them under where it says to give me prompts. I did not specify before but I just figured that this would be easier to keep them together :D

BkDk - Izuku’s dad comes back during first year and isn’t nice. Erasermic adopts Izuku.

Izuku openly sobs once they’re all back at the station. Kacchan is safe now. He’s here. He’s not with the League. Not with him.

He’s still clinging to his childhood friend and bully like a lifeline when he has to talk to Tsukauchi. He’s shocked that the explosive boy hasn’t tried to pry him off yet, but he doesn’t question it, too afraid to ruin the little bit of peace they have right now. It’s going to be okay now. It has to be.

At least, it would be if Izuku didn’t see the look of recognition in All for One’s eyes.

When All Might all but passes the torch onto Izuku on live television, he nearly faints.

“C’mon Deku, we’re going home.” Katsuki grumbles as he sees the short boy begin to pale.

“R-Right. Coming Kacchan.” Izuku answers, trying his hardest to regain the breath that scene stole from him. Trying being the keyword. He fails.

He doesn’t answer Katsuki’s solemn goodbye as they part ways on their journeys home. He doesn’t dare speak. Not when Izuku and his mother know what’s going to happen. Not when everything feels so unbelievably hopeless.

~

Izuku wakes up and knows something’s off. He quietly tries to grab his phone and two hoodies before he plans his escape, but halfway to his closet, the door creaks open and All for One himself looks his way.

“Hello, son.” All for one says. His voice makes Izuku want to hide, but the boy knows that this isn’t an option.

“Where’s mom.” Izuku fires, never once does his own wellbeing come to mind.

“Inko? Don’t worry about her. She was means to an end anyway. While you weren’t supposed to exist, I can’t help but thank her for not getting rid of you. After all, you’re why I’m here.”

Izuku flinches at the notion and tries to push his voice out once more, firmer this time.

“Where is my mother.” He demands once more.

“I think you know where your mother is. Don’t worry though, you’ll be joining her soon. Tomura.” All for One steps to the side, revealing his apprentice, who launches himself at Izuku.

Activating One for All, Izuku jumps, the ceiling and roof giving at the force and allowing him through. He stands on the roof, looking around wildly for an escape route. He has to get out of there.

As if on cue the place goes up in flames.

“No!” Izuku cries, jumping to another roof, his hands and legs shaking with fear. He has to use this adrenaline to get somewhere safe. He has to find out for sure if his mom is-

Izuku starts to sprint toward UA, but stops shortly after.

Pressing the call button, Isuku hopes he pressed the right number because he doesn’t have another shot at this. He doesn’t know if he’ll make it to UA in time. Hell, someone could be waiting for him to run there, couldn’t they? What about all of the people and houses in between here and there? He can’t stray too far from the villains, he decides, keep people safe.

A knife nicking his cheek is enough of a clue as ever that he should start to move again.

“Hello? How are you Midoriya, my boy?” All might’s voice comes through the speaker just as another knife comes flying.

“Toga! Don’t bloody him up too much, we need him alive!” Shigaraki’s voice bellows.

“Young Midoriya?” All Might. Right.

“All for One... Mom... Help!” Izuku cries, out of breath. He can’t focus on the call for obvious reasons, and hangs up before throwing his phone away, hearing it shatter. No time to worry about it now.

~

The bell rings and Katsuki stiffens. He’s not here. He’s never just not here. The little shit would come to school half-dead. He has! So where the hell is he?

“Well, I guess this is everyone today. Has anyone seen Midoriya? Avoiding class will not mean avoiding the punishment you are recieving for directly disobeying what I told you. Not that that surprised me...” Aizawa mutters. As if on cue, a knock at the door calls Aizawa out of the classroom. Bakugo stands and walks toward the door as well.

“Bakubro, where are you going?” Kirishima asks, confused as to why the blonde stood.

“Something’s wrong.” He says, letting the door close behind him.

“Bakugo, go back to your seat.” Aizawa mutters, rubbing hi forehead in annoyance.

“Not until one of you explains where Deku is. He doesn’t miss class unless he can’t get here. Something’s wrong.”

“Very observant Young Bakugo. I was just going to talk with Aizawa about that, actually. I recieved a call from Young Midoriya this morning and it was odd. It was also grounds for concern and seeing as I can no longer do hero work... His father is after him.”

Explosions spark in Bakugo’s palms.

“WHAT? That piece if shit?! I’ll kill him!” This seems to shock All Might more than it should. He visibly flinches.

“Y-You know who his father is?” All might asks, barely able to keep his voice even.

“I don’t need to know who he is to know that he’s a piece of shit that fucking left Auntie and Deku the second he was born!” Bakugo counters, glaring daggers at both teachers who he assumes will stand in his way.

“Young Bakugo, there’s something else that I believe both of you should know. Izuku’s father is very well known in the underworld, you see. He’s got enough connections to essentially make the boy ‘disappear’.” All Might says, trying to stress the importance the previous phrase had.

“So who is he?” Eraserhead asks. His voice betrays nothing but if you pay attention you can see that he’s just about ready to just go get Izuku himself.

“All for One.”

~

Izuku manages to barely dodge the wall of blue flame headed his way, pressing himself up against the alley wall. He’s almost out of options. He hopes someone comes for him soon because if they don’t then it’s going to be very bad.

“I hear you mumbling, brat.” Dabi’s voice nearly growls. Not a second later, he’s holding Izuku against the wall by the collar of his shirt. He struggles for breath, kicking wildly and thrashing around with as much force as he can muster in his exhausted state.

“Let him go, Dabi.” A familiar voice sighs. Izuku looks over and is immediately filled with relief as he sees his homeroom teacher.

Dabi smirks, an idea forming in his head if Izuku observes correctly.

“What, you’ll save him? You’ll save the kid of the top villain but you won’t help the children in Endeavor’s house?” He asks, not letting Izuku go just yet.

This makes Eraserhead stop in his tracks.

“What do you know about Touya’s case?” Eraserhead snarls.

“Enough to know that you couldn’t save him Eraserhead.” Dabi returns before chucking Izuku like a doll towards the undergroud hero.

“Just this once, I’ll let him go. But only because he’s not the one I have beef with.” Dabi says as he stalks off down the alleyway before turning the corner and disappearing. 

Aizawa reaches out with his capture-weapon and catches the boy, but by the time he’s in the hero’s arms he’s passed out. Just what was this kid doing?

~

“What do you mean his father is All for One?” Aizawa snarls, just about ready to throw the skinny man out of a window.

“I mean that his father is All for One, Aizawa. His father is also after him right now. Young Midoriya needs help and he can’t run forever.”

Bakugo stands there in shock. He... That monster is after Deku?

That monster is his father?!

FUCK!

“Language, Bakugo.” All Might scolds as Aizawa wastes no time taking off after the green haired boy.

“The idiot knew he’d be after him, so why did he go home alone last night?! Fucker was muttering about his father the entire way home and I didn’t- FUCK! I need to go after him.” Bakugo says finally, taking a step to follow Aizawa before All Might grabs him, stopping him.

“Young Bakugo, I understand your concern, but we just got you back. You of all people are not leaving this building.” All Might says solemnly.

“Shitty nerd better be alright or I’ll kill him myself.” Bakugo snarls.

~

When Aizawa finally returns to the classroom, the students are on him immediately. Some of them apparently saw some footage of Izuku being hunted down by the League of Villains and are extremely worried for their classmate.

“Is he okay?!”

“He shattered his left leg. I don’t know how he was walking.” Aizawa says. He’s not focused on the other students at the moment, however. He’s focused on how the hell Izuku managed to somehow leave out that All for One is his father.

“His house was on fire too! Is his mom okay? He’ll be devastated if anything happens to her!” Uraraka cries out. The rest of the class voices their agreements.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen Ms. Midoriya. Don’t ask Midoriya about it though, he’s having a rough time.” Aizawa answers truthfully. He then begins to wonder where the woman is and if she’s dead or alive.

“How is he, Sensei?” Bakugo asks. The room starts to quiet down before decending into chaos once more. Bakugo is showing concern? For Izuku? This must be bad.

“He passed out as soon as I found him. He’s exhausted and hasn’t eaten or drank anything since lunch yesterday. My guess is that he woke up and had to take off.” Aizawa explains simply.

The blonde looks like he might actually kill someone.

This is going to be interesting.

~

The last bell rings and Katsuki all but sprints out of the room. He’s fuming. These assholes had the audacity to hurt Deku. To hunt him down for hours. What the fuck.

“DEKU!” Katsuki roars as he pushes the doors to the infirmary open with a slam.

“Kacchan!” Said boy yelps, scrambling to sit up.

“No- Shit! Don’t move. You need to rest and all that shit. I just came to make sure you weren’t dead.”

Katsuki hates that Deku coos at him for being concerned. Of course he’s concerned, damnit!

It’s quiet. Neither of them know what to say to the other, seeing as they haven’t had a real conversation in years.

“How long have you known?”

“What?” Deku answers, confused.

“How long have you known that he’s your father, Deku. Why did you come after me if you knew?” Katsuki asks, flinching at the roughness his voice displays. Izuku humms, thinking. Then he speaks.

“I’ve always known.” He says simply.

“And All Might? How long has he known that you’re the son of his arch nemesis?” 

This makes Izuku flinch. The nerd has the audacity to twiddle his thumbs anxiously. He looks up and back at his lap, embarrassed. Good.

“I- He told me I looked like him. That he can see my father in the way my hair curls and- So I guess he’s known for a while now too, huh?” Deku responds, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Katsuki stands up, turning to leave without a word.

“Wha...? K-Kacchan! Where are you going?” Deku asks, panic filling his voice. The blonde turns, shooting Deku a sad look. He really doesn’t want to leave, but he knows Recovery Girl wants the idiot to rest and not talk all night.

“Go to sleep, Nerd. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

With that, he’s gone.

~

He doesn’t come back to the infirmary to visit Izuku. He barely even acknowledges Izuku’s existence.

Until they fight at Ground Beta.

It’s blood and sweat and tears and lots of just beating the shit out of eachother but both of them come out of it better than they went in.

~

It’s been months since the incident and Shota Aizawa (the absolute sap that the man is) decided that he and Mic were going to take in the problem child. Izuku is happy. He misses his mom like crazy, but he’s happy. The thing that took him from how far he came right back to the beginning though was when Aizawa came home one night from patrol. He’d been searching for Izuku’s mother since the day he was atttacked and hasn’t had any luck. He got a call that solidified what he already suspected.

That night, he and Hizashi sat Izuku down and the boy was an anxious mess while he wondered just what his guardians wanted to tell him. They even let Bakugo come over to comfort their little green bean.

“Izuku... Your mom is dead.”

[lifeofroos]

Part 60. I hate Minos, me my homies all HATE Minos.

In short: Nico gets therapy from Dionysus. In this chapter, he has decided he wants to talk to King Minos. Dionysus quietly agrees, but only so long as someone comes along. The story is also on AO3 and FanFiction.net! And in Tumblr tags like Dionysus, Nico di Angelo, percy jackson fanfic etc.  This Might Be Crazy: Chapter 60: Pomegranate Iced tea 

‘Did you bless the Jacksons’ house when I was there last time?’

Dionysus looked up. ‘I did. Sally Jackson runs a sanctuary. We can’t have monsters coming in.’

‘Very good.’

‘Now tell me the real reason why you came here. You can’t be here just to ask something you already knew.’

‘I mean, no.’

‘Spill.’

‘Don’t you trust...’

‘Nico!’

‘I want to go talk to king Minos. I want to know why he chose me.’

Dionysus took a moment to think about that. ‘Isn’t it clear why Minos chose you?’

I shrugged. ‘It might be. Because, you know, I was going around raising the dead and opposing Percy, which was very convenient for him. Still, I…’ I shrugged. ‘I want to talk to him. I want to know how he thinks.’ 

Dionysus thought for a second. ‘Minos is dangerous.’

‘So I can’t go?’

He thought for a second. ‘I can’t control you. You’ll go anyway, no matter what I say. Yet, I have a requirement.’

‘Being?’

‘Someone must be there with you. I am not letting you talk to a psychopath like Minos on your own.’

I sighed. ‘Who must it be?’ 

‘I’ll ask Persephone and Hades first. You’ll hear the answer tomorrow.’

‘Alright.’

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, early as all hell, I heard a knock on my door. ‘Nico. Come.’ 

I scrambeld out of bed. ‘Eh, I will.’ Whoever you are. ‘Can I put on some actual clothes instead of my pajamas first?’

‘Five minutes.’

‘Okay, okay!’

Within five minutes, I was done and I stepped out of my cabin. I raised my eyebrows. ‘Ariadne?’

‘The very one. Persephone will come too. She’s waiting for us near Elysium.’

‘I mean... cool.’ I tried to shrug, but half-way through we were already teleporting into the underworld. My shoulders hurt when I got there. 

-------------------------------------------------------

I disliked standing in front of the gates of Elysium again. It was soul-crushing to see all of the spirits, some of them hopeful, some of them sure they wouldn’t get in. 

I noticed Persephone standing near the judges. She was looking up at them, with her hands on her hips. She looked around when Ariadne called her name. ‘Still okay?’ She asked to the other goddess. 

‘As okay as it can get.’

‘Good.’ Persephone straightened her back. ‘We’ll let him do the talking.’ She pointed at me. 

‘And we’ll keep an eye on everything.’ Ariadne confirmed. 

Persephone nodded. ‘Come,’ she told (mostly) me. I nodded. We walked past the lines, to the three judges. The spirits didn’t seem to mind. 

Ariadne held up her hand. ‘Minos.’ All three of kings turned around. Minos mouth fell open. ‘Go on,’ Persephone commanded the judges. ‘Except for Minos. He comes with us.’

Minos got up, with a suspicious look in his eyes. 

---------------------------------------------------

‘What is it, my queen?’ he asked Persephone as soon as we were away from the line. His eyes ran past Ariadne without adressing her. His eyebrows raised when he saw me. ‘You brought me your own stepson? Unbelievable! Now why would that be?’

‘He has questions for you. We would like to see you answer them.’

‘And that’s all?’

‘That’s all.’ She gently laid her hand on my shoulder for a second.

‘Terrible to see you again,’ I began. 

‘You are the one bothering me.’

‘Still.’ I tilted my head. ‘I have my suspicions, but I wanted to know why you chose me. Why you had to haunt me instead of somebody else.’

‘You’re the son of Hades.’

‘I am.’

‘Doesn’t that seem like reason enough?’

‘Maybe. Yet, it would have been way easier for you to get a random scared kid to raise the dead for you. All the things you taught me are things you could have taught most other people. Raising the dead with Happy meals? You don’t need me for that. Don’t get at me with wanting to help Luke. You are way too selfish for that.’

Persephone and Ariadne gave each other a look when they heard me mention raising the dead with happy meals. Minos went on: ‘My goal might not have been to aid him, but perhaps what he had in mind spoke to me.’ Persephone crossed her arms. Minos smiled sinisterly. ‘My queen, don’t act like you didn’t know, even if I would never confess it.’

I pointed at him. ‘Didn’t you just…’

‘Let it go, Nico.’ I looked up at Ariadne, who nodded towards Minos. He still had not aknowledged she was there.  

‘I was easy to manipulate, but still on no-one’s side,’ I continued. ‘Any other demigod might have gotten dependent on you. They would have been your string puppet.’

‘But they would have had less power. Why have a string puppet when they aren’t useful for all sorts of things? Also, di Angelo, you can’t act like you weren’t dependent on me. You were so wrapped up in your silly hate and grief you didn’t see what was going on.’

‘Perhaps.’ Ariadne and Persephone tensed up. Maybe I had been more of a string puppet to Minos than I liked to think I was. Still… ‘Still, I did manage to break out. I listened to Percy after he showed me the truth. An agent of Luke wouldn’t have done that. They would have turned a blind eye and kept following you.’

‘The Jackson kid cared for you.’

‘He would have cared for any other demigod as well. You could have told them to play apologetic and then you would’ve had a spy. It would have been easier, it would have lead you to bigger things...’

‘What is it that you want? I picked you because you were powerful. That’s it. Every strategy has holes in it. It was a gamble to pick you over some nobody and…’ Minos bit his lip and did not say more.

‘And you gambled wrong,’ Persephone finished the sentence. 

Minos shrugged. ‘You win some, you lose some, my queen.’ 

Ariadne gave him a disgusted look. ‘Perhaps.’

‘You were a powermaniac,’ I concluded. ‘It would have been safer, be it a little harder, to use a minion from Luke’s army. Yet, I had power, and you fell for it.’

Minos shot me a disintegrating look. ‘Watch your words, demonspawn.’

‘Sounds like a weakness to me.’

‘Nico.’ Persephone slowly shook her head. 

‘I think I have what I wanted,’ I told Minos. 

‘Leave, then. I’ve got a job to do.’

‘Playing judge, jury and executioner even in death,’ Ariadne stated.

‘It comes naturally.’ It was the first time he acknowledged her existence. ‘I’d watch your mouth if I were you. Some of us might be power hungry, but we aren’t reckless traitors. Each their own.’ He grinned, before looking at Persephone. ‘If you don’t mind, I’ll get back now, my queen.’

‘I wish you wouldn’t.’ 

He curtsied, before turning around and walking away. I had to bite my tongue to not yell after him that he was a terrible person, a terrible king, a terrible father, a terrible husband and a terrible judge.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘He is terrible.’

‘He is manipulative,’ Ariadne stated. ‘The gamble analogy is apt. He gambled he could take control of the kingdom by banning his brothers. He gambled that he could contain the Minotaur and make Athens pay for it, and he won that bet twice, until…’ she sighed, ‘Until someone messed with his stack of cards. Every gambler misses now and then, and so did he. Terribly, a few times…’ 

Persephone clenched her fists. ‘And then he still didn’t, because my father had to give him the power he desired in death as well.’

I slowly nodded. Persephone sighed and pushed something into my hand. It was a can of Pomegranate sweet tea. I left it in the underworld a little while ago. 

‘Did you learn anything?’ Ariadne asked. It sounded as if she was somewhere else with her thoughts.  

‘What I thought about king Minos was proven. And I once again realised that maybe I should not always go through with my strange ideas.’

‘At least someone was here this time. I can’t tell what that man would have done we hadn’t been there,’ Persephone mused. A little smile appeared on her face. ‘I wanted to come too. Honestly, I wanted to see if it would be better to kick him out. And well, that is more than proven. As soon as I can get rid of him, I will.’

Ariadne looked just as surprised as I felt. ‘They needed to be sons of Zeus, right? The judges?’ I asked. 

‘Yes. But that friend of yours is here now, too.’

‘Jason.’

‘The very one. I think we might have a job for him.’

---------------------------------------------------------------

‘Coming with you was my own idea,’ Ariadne told me when we were back in Camp half-blood. 

‘Ah,’ I said, while I nodded. 

‘I mean Dio didn’t ask me to come. I wanted it. I wanted to see how Minos would react to you, to see if he was really still like that.’

I nodded. ‘Well, so did I. Thanks for coming anyway.’

She nodded, although she didn’t smile. ‘I think it will be lunch soon.’

‘Eh... yeah. I think Dionysus is in the big house.’

‘Then I’ll go there.’

It was clear we were both too busy with our own thoughts. I said goodbye and went to the dining pavilion. Will would want to hear my story. I assumed Dionysus would already have heard it next time I saw him, which was, if I can be honest, a relief. 

A/N: I was originally going to do this with just one of the ladies but then I thought of this and it was good. 

Finals are over today which is good now on to results haha help

[let-it-raines]

What a Wicked Game {14/15}

Killian met her in a pub on a rainy night in March. Going inside was only supposed to be a way for him to avoid the rain and fight off the demons in his head. It was a place for him to pass through, not stay. But then he was charmed by a blonde woman with a quick wit who had absolutely no interest in him or who he was.

That was a first. It was also the beginning of Emma Nolan helping to bring him back to life. It was the beginning of everything.

Five years later, with their worlds crumbling around them, Killian can’t help but wonder if this is the end of the peace they have known now that his family knows about his relationship. It wouldn’t be a problem if his father wasn’t the King of England.

rating: mature

a/n: all my thanks to @captainswanbigbang​, @resident-of-storybrooke​, @captainsjedi​, and all of you! I hope you enjoy this nice little snapshot to the future that is 100% a homage to the original insane “epilogue” 😘

ao3: beginning | current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |

-/-

December 2020

Emma’s in a white dress made of ornate lace and the most intricate beading work she’s ever seen. The material hugs her body, accentuating the curve of her waist and falling to her wrists where they stop so that the rings on her hands are visible. There are three now, two on the left hand and one on the right. Her hair is falling down her back in long, perfectly curled waves, and half of it is pinned back with a diamond barrette that almost perfectly matches the tiara gracing the top of her head. A veil is attached to it, and it wraps around her body and all the way down to the ground, the lace surrounding the edges of it.

She’s wearing a tiara.

Like, a tiara worth hundreds of thousands of dollars that she wore on top of her head for hours.

It was a year and a half ago and she’s worn plenty of nice jewelry since, but there’s something about looking at the pictures hanging in their hallway that still makes Emma stop in her tracks to stare at them.

It’s the nice clothes at first, her wedding dress and Killian’s black Naval uniform that he looked so handsome in, but then it’s the smiles on their faces, the true happiness written into their lips. Their foreheads are pressed together in this one, and while their lips aren’t touching, they nearly are. Killian’s eyes are crinkled, the lines prominent, and Emma remembers him telling her some awful dirty joke that had the photographer blushing and Emma laughing until tears were flowing from her eyes.

(They’d had to touch up her makeup, and it took forever because she couldn’t seem to stop laughing at her husband.)

Their wedding was on a sunny day at the beginning of June, and most of it was a blur. Emma’s stomach was in knots for the majority of the day, not because she was nervous about getting married. It was more over having to be in front of hundreds of people in the Chapel and millions more on television, as well as having to spend half of her day with Brennan. Thankfully, he stayed away from them as much as he could, seemingly respecting them enough to let them have their day without his disapproval and overall shitty attitude. It’s the nicest thing he’s ever done for her, letting her have that day.

It was a great day.

“Who the hell is that handsome bastard in the portrait you’re staring at, darling?”

Emma huffs and turns to look at Killian only for him to come up behind her and wrap his arms around her waist, tugging her back into him before laying sloppy kisses all across her jaw and down her neck that has her stomach flipping. He’s always doing that.

“You’re so conceited.”

“Confident.”

“Eh.”

He nips at her ear, and she sighs back into him, letting heat simmer in her belly even if she knows that they can’t do anything about it right now. They don’t have time.

“You have to learn that my confidence is warranted. How could it not be when my wife makes noises like you just made when I barely brush my lips over her jaw?”

“I’m not helping your ego grow by answering that.”

Killian rolls his hips into hers, grinding into her ass, all while kissing her ear again, lavishing the sensitive spot that causes her flesh to pebble, and she just knows that he has a dumb joke in his brain about making something else grow. He’s thirty-one years old, and the amount of erection jokes that he makes is ridiculous. Granted, ninety percent of the time she wants to hear them, but that’s entirely beside the point.

“Killian,” she moans when his tongue licks along the shell of her ear while his fingers ghost over her stomach and up toward the underside of her breast, “we don’t have t-time. We’ve got to go to Sandringham in fifteen minutes. The car is scheduled to take us to the train station.”

“Fifteen minutes is plenty of time.”

“I haven’t finished packing.”

“I suppose you’ll simply have to walk around in the nude since kissing you is the only thing I can think of doing at this moment.”

Emma laughs, but then she’s turning her head to kiss him. Their lips collide together softly, and Emma twists her body until her hands are grabbing onto the lapels of his shirt, pulling him closer to him. His mouth is warm against hers, and it sends another thrill down her spine, curling around each inch of her. His erection is hotly pressing into her thigh through his jeans, and she feels it even more when Killian backs her up to the wall behind them. When she parts her lips for him, his tongue quickly flickers into her mouth, she follows his lead, eager to feel him in every way that she can.

It’s been eight years of this, eight years of her entire body thrumming and of Emma wanting him, and while there are days that it wanes and days where just looking at his face annoys her, it’s mostly like this.

Loving him is the easiest decision she’s ever made.

Choosing to be with him despite all of the insane highs and deep lows is the best choice she’s ever made.

Killian’s a good one. No, the best one.

(And she’s not biased at all.)

She grinds into him and groans against his mouth when he hits a particularly good spot, and in the haze of his fervent kisses, she reaches down between them until she’s fumbling with the button on his jeans and popping it open all the while Killian mutters filthy curses into her mouth.

“What happened to not having time?”

“Shut up.”

“I love it when you speak to me like that.”

“You are - ”

He doesn’t let her finish, not when his lips are slamming back into hers, and he’s kissing her so deeply that Emma can’t breathe or think or even focus on anything other than the feel and smell of Killian and the way his fingers are tugging her leggings down until the warm air of the apartment is hitting against her skin.

“God, I love you,” Killian murmurs into her jaw while his hands hook under her ass and urge her to wrap her legs around his waist.

“What are you doing? Are you seriously trying to show off athletic prowess right now?”

His hands squeeze on her ass, and he feels her smirking into her skin. The bastard.

“Absolutely, I am. I can’t wait to be sore tomorrow.”

Emma’s head tilts back with her laughter even as Killian slowly enters hers, stretching her the slightest bit while her arms tighten around his neck and her legs curl even further around his waist. He better not drop her. One time he did, and they should really find a couch or something. They’ve got at least fifteen in this damn place.

But then it just feels too damn good just like this. It’s hard and fast, their bodies completely pressed together, and all of Emma’s thoughts are blurred and mixed in with Killian’s muttered curses and her harsh pants and then their mouths finding each other once more. They’re close enough that Emma’s on edge already, each of his thrusts brushing her exactly where she needs him, and her eyes squeeze more tightly shut when she begins to fall, letting Killian’s encouragements guide her until she’s there.

Damn, Jones.

He must finish quickly afterwards, his legs nearly collapsing so that the both of them fall to the ground, but he manages to keep hold of them, supporting her.

“Thanks for not dropping me on my ass.” Killian huffs into her neck at her words, and she feels him loosen his grip on her so that she’s tightening her legs and gasping as he tries to drop her. “That’s not funny!”

“I found it funny.”

“How is dropping me to the ground funny? Aren’t you supposed to love me and cherish me or whatever?”

He leaves a warm, open-mouthed kiss on the side of her neck before pulling back so that she can see the ridiculous blue of his eyes. She’ll never quite get over them. “I do love you, which is why I haven’t asked you to get down yet even though my legs feel rather flimsy right now.”

Emma kisses the top of his head before unwrapping her legs and slowly falling to the ground, her own legs shaky. “I love you, too. We should probably go clean ourselves up and pretend that we weren’t just fucking five minutes before we got in the car to go to your family’s Christmas celebrations.”

“‘Tis the season and all.” Killian kisses her again, this time slow and unbelievably soft. Those are always her favorite. “Thanks for marrying me, darling. You’re just as beautiful today as you are in all of these pictures.”

“I’m not currently wearing pants.”

“That’s the way I like you.”

He’s an idiot...who she loves so damn much.

-/-

Celebrating Christmas with Killian’s family is weird.

There’s really no other way for her to describe it. For one, they spend at least five days having to circle around Brennan, which is hard enough as it is. He’s never going to approve of her and never going to love Killian the way a dad should, but at least he isn’t outwardly hostile to them anymore. It’s more of a quiet simmer with subtle rude comments that are made when Allison is out of earshot, and as awkward and uncomfortable as it is, Emma will take it. This is how it is, and there’s so much more to Killian’s family than his dad.

Allison, for one, is the sweetest woman alive who tries to make up for all of her husband’s downfalls (Emma still thinks she should divorce Brennan, but she knows it won’t ever happen. Appearances and all that. It’s also none of Emma’s business), and she’s taken Emma under her wing in the past two years, teaching her everything there is to know about royal life even though Killian and Emma both decided to not be as prominent as Liam and Elsa. They still work, are nearly always out and about working with some kind of charity they’re passionate about, but they’re not into all of the frills and the publicity.

Her accident still haunts her, the attacks of the media that occur every day following right behind, and it’s the reason they’re having a house built in Bucklebury so that they can have some privacy away from all of the business of living in Kensington. Emma’s doing her best, but she does not accept having to stop caring for her own life and her own wants simply because of who her husband’s family is.  

It’s still so odd, Emma thinks. She fell in love with this wonderful, normal guy, and now she’s wandering around on an estate in formal wear to celebrate Christmas instead of lounging around in her pajamas eating junk food with her parents.

Her parents who are never invited to come for the holiday celebrations and who she misses dearly and will be going to see on the night of the twenty-fifth.

But besides having to spend time with Brennan, Emma also has to spend time with all of Killian’s cousins and aunts and uncles who she can never remember the names of despite her best efforts, and follow even more insane rules about what to wear and what silverware to use and what kind of presents to give. Killian held her hand throughout this entire week last year to help her learn, and he’s having to do the same this year. Though, she’s better at it now. She’s not a total fumbling fool.

Just a little one.

But she does know to always find Killian or Liam and Elsa, and if all else fails, she can spend time with Alex and Lizzie and be completely and totally charmed by their adorableness. Seriously. Emma thinks they might be the cutest kids alive, and she’s not biased at all because she’s their aunt. Alex is somehow four now even though she swears he was just two, and he’s the funniest child Emma has ever met. Lizzie is much quieter, more of an observer than anything else, but whenever she sees Emma, she runs to her and stretches her arms out so that Emma can scoop her up into Emma’s arms.

It absolutely makes Emma’s heart swell.

“Darling,” Killian calls out to her, and Emma’s head twists around to see Killian standing across the dining room from her in his tux, “would you come here for a moment?”

Emma turns back to the cousin - Rachel, she thinks - she was just talking to and excuses herself from the conversation to walk toward Killian, who is undeniably saving her before she got swooped away to talk to someone else.

“Thank you,” she whispers into Killian’s ear once she’s close enough, pressing her lips to the underside of his jaw and leaving a mark of red lipstick.

He kisses her temple and lazily loops his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “Darling, I was just telling Liam that you were going to be on my football team tomorrow, and that he can’t draft you for his team first.”

Emma tilts her head and looks at Liam and Elsa. “Isn’t it Liam’s turn to have first pick? You had it last year.”

“Liam gave it to me last year,” Killian says, his eyes pointed at Liam, “even though it was his year. This year is technically still my year.”

“Rubbish. When I gave you first pick it was a gift because you were a newlywed, but we’re still supposed to switch off years.”

“No, this is still my year. Last year was a gift, and I did not agree to give up my pick.”

“I’ve just said that it’s not!”

Elsa rolls her eyes, and Emma brings her bottom lip between her teeth to bite. Seeing the boys be friends is never not refreshing, but it’s also obnoxious. They bicker all of the time in this friendly but obnoxious way, and if Elsa and Emma were to walk away, neither of them would notice.

“Babe,” Emma laughs, rubbing her hand up and down Killian’s back, “just give Liam the first pick. He’s not going to pick me. He’ll want to pick someone who’s actually good so he can beat you.”

“She makes a good point, little brother,” Liam says.

“Younger. It’s younger, and fine, you can have the first pick.”

-/-

Liam picks her first for the football game the next day.

Killian plays the entire game with murder in his eyes even if he immediately picked Elsa so Liam couldn’t have her on his team.

All’s fair in love and annual Christmas football matches.

(She and Liam totally kick Killian’s ass.)

-/-

When Emma wakes, she rolls over and checks her phone.

3:01 AM, December 25th, 2020.

It’s the middle of the night...or the morning, and she shouldn’t be awake. She’s got at least four more hours left of sleep, and she should not be awake. It’s been pretty much non-stop for the four days they’ve been at Sandringham, and she should be exhausted. Mostly, though, she’s hungry.

“Killian,” Emma whispers, reaching across the bed to poke his bicep. “Killian, wake up.”

He grunts and twists his head until she can see one eye open while the rest of his face is squished. “What?”

His voice is gritty and deep, and she’s really got to wake him up more if he’s going to sound like that. “How do I get to the kitchen?”

“What?”

“Where’s the kitchen?”

Killian twists again until he’s blinking at her and rubbing his hand up and down his face. “What time is it?”

“It’s three in the morning, and I’m starving. I have never figured out how to get to the kitchen in this place.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

Killian grunts and rolls over, throwing the covers off of him before standing from the bed and pulling his pajamas up on his waist so they’re not hanging indecently low any longer. “Come on. I’ll take you down there.”

“You’re my favorite person in the world.”

He grunts again and starts walking away, not bothering to find a shirt or shoes, and Emma quickly follows. She’s also got to pee right now, but asking Killian to wait might not be her best option when he doesn’t seem too thrilled about her waking him up in the middle of the night. She gets it. She wouldn’t be thrilled either.

All of the hallways are dark, but Killian easily navigates them, twisting and turning and taking several different staircases until he’s pushing through a set of double doors and they’re entering an industrial kitchen that doesn’t at all mix with the rest of this house.

Emma literally has no idea how they got down here.

“What do you want to eat, love?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Nope. What do we have?” He opens the fridge, and she steps into his space until she’s looking inside as well at what looks like a hell of a lot of baked goods that they can’t eat. They’re probably for something else. “Can we eat any of this?”

“I think the baked goods are Mum’s gifts to the staff to take home to their families, but I can make you something. Do you want a grilled cheese sandwich?”

“Do you even know me at all?”

Killian laughs, but then he’s reaching forward and grabbing cheese and butter and moving away from the fridge, shuffling around and getting everything that he needs. When she offers to make it herself since this was her idea and Killian doesn’t even like grilled cheese, he tells her that he’s got it if she can make him some tea. They’re probably not going to sleep again, so they might as well get some caffeine.

Caffeine and maybe some cookie dough that she found in the freezer.

(She can’t help herself.)

“You know,” Emma yawns, “I used to be up at three in the morning all the time, but now I can’t do it.”

“It’s because you’re getting old, darling.”

“Says the man who is in his thirties, meanwhile I can still say that I’m in my twenties for ten more months.”

“And then once you hit that thirty mark, you’ll officially be old.”

“I will not be old. Thirty isn’t old. That’s a social construct.”

“It’s too early in the morning to be focusing on things like that.”

“True,” Emma sighs, taking a sip of her tea while Killian plates her sandwich, sliding it over to her with a napkin. It smells freaking amazing. “Thank you for this.”

“It’s no problem. You’ll burn your mouth if you eat it right now.”

“Some things are worth the risk.”

Killian chuckles and leans forward to grab his own tea, taking a large gulp. “I wouldn’t get up at three in the morning to cook for anyone else. I hope you know that.”

“I do know that. I wouldn’t wake anyone else up to make me food at three in the morning. Though, I really only needed you to show me where the kitchen was. I didn’t need you to cook.”

“It’s not a problem. You’re suffering through Christmas with my family for the second year in a row. This is literally the least I can do.”

Emma finishes chewing her bite before leaning forward over the counter to press her lips into Killian’s. “I’m happy to do most everything that I have to do as your wife. It’s weird and definitely not how I ever imagined my life, but I wear a hell of a lot of Spanx for you. That’s true love.”

His eyes crinkle, and Emma is so incredibly charmed by him and his stupidly mussed hair and sleepy smile. It’s kind of ridiculous, but she loves that smile and the way his hair can’t be contained when he hasn’t combed through it.

“And I make you the grossest sandwich in existence.”

“It’d only be the grossest if it involved mayonnaise and tuna or something.”

“This is true.” It’s Killian’s turn to lean over the counter until his lips are brushing across the tip of her nose. “I truly am thankful for you and not simply because you wear Spanx for me and heels that make your feet scream.”

“Yeah, babe,” Emma sighs, her heart content. “I know.”

“Merry Christmas, Swan.”

“Merry Christmas, my love. Should we steal some more cookie dough?”

-/-

February 2021

“This is weird.”

“What is? Being here?”

“Yep,” Emma hums as she looks out the window and sees the congested streets of Manhattan. “I don’t know...I knew it would be different to be back in America, but it’s just - I don’t know. I’ve only been to New York three times, so it’s not like it’s somewhere I spent a lot of time. Driving on this side of the road is kind of freaking me out.”

Killian huffs, but then his fingers are twining together with hers and he’s pulling her knuckles to his lips to kiss right above her wedding band. “We’ve been in America for a week, darling. I feel like you should be used to it by now.”

“Yeah,” she yawns, “I know, but honestly, I can’t tell you what we’ve done this week. It’s all a sleep-deprived blur. What are we even doing today?”

“I believe we’re going to a basketball game to meet with some children and promote the North American opening of Kidding A Goal, and then tomorrow we have several charities we’re visiting before a meeting with our U.S. diplomats.”

“And then we go home?”

“No, then we have the function at NYU. I’m giving a speech, but after that, I believe we’re going home. We’ll have to ask Ariel when we get to the hotel. I’m sure she’ll have everything mapped out to the exact minute.” Emma yawns again before her eyes flutter closed and she’s lulled into drowsiness. “Emma?”

“Mhm?”

“Do you need to stay in the hotel tonight and sleep? No one would blame you if you missed the game.”

She scoffs. There are literally thousands, probably millions of people who would blame her. Brennan would be the first person, and then all of the people who already hate her would be right in line after him. She’s been hailed as some kind of American princess for years now, and all of their aides and publicists have been marketing this visit with her returning to her roots or something.

Los Angeles, Atlanta, and New York City aren’t exactly her roots.

But this is her life. She loves it even when she hates it. She can roll with the punches.

“I’m fine,” Emma promises. “Of all of the things we’ve had to do on this tour, I think going to a basketball game might be the easiest.”

-/-

The basketball game takes forever.

Seriously. How can a game that’s slated to last a certain amount of time exceed that time by hours? Either be like tennis where you have no idea how long it’s going to take or like football (soccer) where when the time is set, it usually stays that way.

This is why she’s never liked this sport.

And really, the entire time that they’re there, one of the publicists from the team talks down to her like she doesn’t know what’s going on. Granted, she doesn’t know all the rules, but there’s a difference between explaining something and talking down to someone. But it’s all fine and good, and she and Killian have a nice experience sitting courtside and stuffing their face with popcorn while sweaty men with squeaking sneakers run by them. Afterwards (and during honestly) there are a million and two photo ops, but Emma likes getting to talk to all of the kids that are there for them and for the game. They’re all adorable, and they give her and Killian matching jerseys that she feels like Killian is definitely going to be wearing more often than he should.

He seems to like basketball more than she does, but maybe she’d enjoy it more if she wasn’t so exhausted that she could fall asleep standing up.

They probably don’t get back to the hotel until two in the morning, and when they do, Killian promptly kisses her goodnight and then falls asleep.

Emma doesn’t.

Because, of course, she can’t fall asleep, and when their alarm goes off the next morning and Killian rolls over in bed to kiss the side of her neck, lingering there as he whispers sweet words against her skin, all Emma can think is that she only got two interrupted hours of sleep.

Her makeup artist is going to kill her.

If Emma doesn’t fall out from exhaustion first.

Several cups of coffee and a hell of a lot of concealer later, however, she’s good to go for another day of representing her new country to her old country.

Life gets weirder every day.

She’d do it all over again in a heartbeat for Killian.

-/-

“Love, have you packed our toiletries already?”

“Love?”

“Emma?”

There’s a tap against her shoulder, and Emma jumps, blinking several times until Killian’s blurry face comes into clearer view so that she can see the blue of his eyes and the scar on his cheek.

“Emma, darling, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she says, waving him away and grabbing a pair of leggings out of the drawer. There’s no way she’s flying home in actual pants. That’s too long of a flight for anything that doesn’t have a soft elastic waist. She’s also wearing comfortable shoes because she’s going to boycott heels for a month. “Did you need something?”

Killian’s head tilts while his brows furrow. “I was asking if you’d packed away our toiletries. I’d like to brush my teeth again after drinking coffee, but I can’t seem to find the bags.”

“Really?” She begins to walk across the suite in their hotel room toward the bathroom. “Because they should be on the vanity. I haven’t packed them up yet. I - ”

Her feet catch in the carpet as her head suddenly begins to spin, and not for the first time in the last few days, Emma feels light-headed. But this is different. She can’t focus on anything, every object around her a pixelated version of itself, and before she can grab onto a blurred version of a dresser, she’s falling to the ground with the sound of Killian’s voice echoing behind her.

-/-

-/-

I did say this was pretty much like that original epilogue, didn’t I? Sorry to all of you newbies 😘🙈

tag list: @mrtinski​ @klynn-stormz​ @jonirobinson64​ @snowbellewells​ @therealstartraveller776​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @sherifemma​ @shardminds​ @captainsjedi​ @galaxyzxstark​ @galadriel26​ @idristardis​ @karenfrommisthaven​ @teamhook​ @spartanguard​ @searchingwardrobes​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @owlways-and-forever​ @jamif​ @shireness-says​ @ultimiflos​ @nikkiemms​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @onepunintendid​ @bluewildcatfanatic​ @397bartonstreet​ @killianswannn​ @carpedzem​ @captainkillianswanjones​ @mayquita​ @jennjenn615​ @onceuponaprincessworld​ @a-faekindagirl​ @scientificapricot​ @scarletslippers​ @xellewoods​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @stahlop​ @kmomof4​ @tiganasummertree​ @singersdd​ @tornadoamy​ @captainswanbigbang​

[stealingpotatoes]

First Meeting

Ao3 link

Summary: Alexi Mayhew meets Empress Emily Kaldwin for the first time. But it doesn’t really happen how she thought it would.

(nb: Going off extra lore stuff, Alexi and Emily were close good friends when they were kids, so I thought I’d write a little thing on smol Emily & Alexi meeting cause ya know… why not? Also realised I never posted this to tumblr so... here it is now!)

---

Alexi hated getting dressed up. Back in Potterstead, she almost never had to get all dressed up formally, but she’d barely lived in Dunwall more than two months, and it already felt like she’d been to more formal things here than she had in her whole life before moving here. And in Dunwall Tower -- because that meant they were at the Empress’ court, apparently -- Alexi had to be even more formal. Her almost-floor-length green dress was too stiff and her mother had done her hair up with too many pins. Alexi hated it. 

And they were at a boring meeting or talk or something. But the Empress wasn’t even there, because they were actually seeing her this evening, so really Alexi didn’t even need to look ‘nice’ until then. She didn’t even know what they were doing in Dunwall Tower, really. Her parents owned shops; they weren’t nobles.  

But one thing Alexi did know was that she was unbelievably bored just standing there. So she had slipped out of the room, taken her hair down, and began wandering about the Tower. None of the guards seemed to pay her much mind, so she guessed that she was allowed to. She eventually wound up in a hallway with a bunch of paintings along the walls. Some of them had various Emperors and Empresses, some of them were just random places or maybe events. Alexi found herself particularly drawn to a large painting of an Emperor in a formal-ish military outfit, holding a sword in the air in a very commanding way while on a rearing horse, with parts of a battle going on in the background. Alexi began imagining herself as this great general-Emperor. 

Alexi was so caught up in the painting that she didn’t notice the sound of someone running down the hall until it was too late. The second she turned around to see what was happening or who it was, she was met by the full impact of someone running into her. Alexi painfully fell straight on her butt.

After a second, she opened her eyes to see a young girl with short-ish black hair, probably about eleven or twelve- Alexi’s age, quickly pushing herself up from the floor. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry-- I didn’t see you,” The girl, now standing, extended a hand to Alexi.

Alexi took her girl’s hand, and she helped pull Alexi to her feet.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry.” Alexi said, moving her braided hair behind her back and dusting herself off, “Though, maybe look where you’re going next time?”

“...I had to check if I was being followed!” The girl exclaimed, “But- yes, sorry, I’ll… do that.” She rubbed her arm sheepishly. 

Now that they’d both stopped moving, Alexi had a better look at the girl in front of her. She was taller than Alexi, a little lanky really, and wearing an expensive-looking black trouser suit with fine silver embroidery and white trimmings. Her hair had been messed up, probably from the speeding down the halls and the running-right-into-Alexi. 

“Who might be following you?” Alexi asked. 

The girl tilted her head to the side, “Um- a few people...” she paused and looked Alexi up and down, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?” 

“This is my first time in the Tower” Alexi fiddled with the fabric of her skirts a little, “I’m here with my parents. We’re supposed to be meeting the Empress later today or something.”

The girl looked at Alexi thoughtfully before smiling like she knew something Alexi didn’t, “Why aren’t you with them?”

“I was with them, at some really boring meeting-talk-thing. But it was um-- really boring. So…” Alexi shrugged, “I thought I’d explore.” 

The girl laughed a little, “There’s no shortage of boring meetings in Dunwall Tower.” 

“Do you have to go to those things with your parents too?”

The girl did that smile again, “Something like that…”

Alexi ignored how vague the girl was being, “Um- what were you running from?”

“My lessons.” 

“Oh- That explains why you were running so fast.” Alexi said, smiling. Did people have lessons in the Tower? 

The girl giggled. “What’s your name?” 

“Alexi Mayhew.” Alexi said proudly, “What’s yours?”

“Emily Kaldwin.”

It took a second for the penny to drop. Alexi knew that Empress Emily was her age, had black hair, and she had a rough idea of what the Empress looked like from newspapers and various images. Maybe she just wasn’t actually expecting a child, someone like her -- maybe she’d imagined someone more like the paintings around her, all regal and not running down hallways at great speeds. But Alexi really should’ve noticed it sooner. 

This realisation must have shown on her face, because Emily giggled a little. 

Alexi’s brow furrowed, “Um- Do I have to call you Your Majesty? Or bow…?”

Emily seemed to think about it for a second, “Technically yes, but you can call me Emily.”

“ Phew. Well uh-” Alexi put her hand out, quickly recovering- “it’s nice to meet you, Emily.”

Emily looked at Alexi’s hand, slightly confused, for a moment, before suddenly shaking it, “It’s nice to meet you too, Alexi.”

Neither of them said anything for a few moments, and Alexi found herself looking at the painting that they were both standing under again. 

Emily glanced up at the painting too, and then at a clock near them, “Do you want to see some actual fighting?” 

Alexi nodded enthusiastically. 

Emily gestured for Alexi to follow, and led her along two halls, until they reached a window seat. Emily climbed into the alcove on her knees, before looking back and gesturing for Alexi to come up, “Come on!”

Alexi pushed herself onto the window seat to kneel next to Emily, and looked out the window. Alexi put her hands to the window sill. Below them, the Dunwall Tower guards were sparring with each other in the training yard. There were maybe 20 guards, plus a captain walking in the space between the sparring matches, yelling things Alexi couldn’t hear. They were all duelling with swords- properly fighting

“ Cool, ” Alexi grinned.

“I know,” Emily said, still staring out the window. 

The guards continued to duel below. They were all good duellists, which made sense, seeing as only the best of the City Watch guarded Dunwall Tower. It was impressive to watch all of them fight. 

“I want to be able to fight like that,” Alexi said, not taking her eyes off the

“Me too,” Emily said, a little quieter than before. 

“When I’m old enough, I’m going to join the City Watch.” Alexi turned to Emily.

Emily faced Alexi, “Maybe I’ll see you training out here soon.”

“Yeah! And you- when you learn to sword fight too.”

Emily chuckled a little, “I don’t think the City Watch will let me spar with them.”

“Why not? It’s technically your training grounds, right?” Alexi twisted her hand on the sill in Emily’s direction. 

Emily tilted her head and smirked, “I suppose so.” 

Alexi turned back to the window and stared at the guards, still duelling. But she saw Emily looking at her in her peripheral vision and turned her head to face her. “What is it?” she asked, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. 

Emily half-shrugged, “Everyone’s usually so weird around me. But you’re… not. You’re different.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Alexi asked, cautiously. She was pretty sure that she was ignoring every single piece of ‘etiquette’ she was meant to know, but etiquette was dumb, so she didn’t care. 

“Oh- no! Definitely not. No, it’s a good thing.” Emily smiled reassuringly.

Alexi smiled back, “So what’s weird? Do they ”

Emily returned to looking out the window and Alexi did the same. “No, people just act like I’m made of glass or-- Woah , did you see that?!” Emily asked.

“See what?” Alexi looked between the guards. 

Emily pointed to a guard on the floor, “His opponent just dodged him perfectly and did this uh- leg swipe, and floored him! It was awesome!”

“Maybe he’ll do it again--”

“Emily?” A man’s rough voice came from the end of the hall, interrupting Alexi.   

Emily glanced behind her before looking back to Alexi, annoyed, and huffing, “Callista got Corvo to find me.”

“As in Corvo Attano?” Alexi asked, eyes widening.

Emily nodded. 

Alexi knew she’d get to see Corvo Attano today, because the Royal Protector was almost always with the Empress. And if Alexi was being honest, she’d been way more excited to see him than she had been to see the Empress. Because- well, Corvo Attano was a legend! Alexi had heard that he could fight ten armed men at once, with just his bare hands . And that he was the best swordsman and hand-to-hand combatant in all the Isles. And that last year, he’d escaped Coldridge Prison (Coldridge! Nobody escaped Coldridge!), saved Empress Emily twice, taken down the evil Lord Regent (and those other bad people who ruled for like 2 days afterwards) and cleared his name, almost entirely by himself! Earlier, Alexi had almost been hoping that some assassins or something would show up when she was meeting the Empress, just so she’d get to see him in action. And so everything would be less boring. 

Emily got down from the seat and Alexi followed suit. 

As they got down, a man in a long dark blue coat with gold-yellow trimmings walked around the corner. “Emily-” he said, seeing them and picking up his pace a little. He stopped when he was about a step or two away from them. 

Alexi looked up at the man in front of her. She could definitely believe that he’d done all she’d heard. He was so tall as well. There was a sword at his belt- well, a sword hilt. It didn’t have a blade, which was weird. 

Alexi stood up a little straighter. 

“Corvo, this is Alexi Mayhew. Alexi, this is Corvo.” Emily said, gesturing between Alexi and Corvo. 

Corvo gave Alexi a nod and a smile in place of a greeting. Alexi copied him and smiled and nodded back, hoping she didn’t look too in awe. 

Corvo turned to Emily, “You’re meant to be in lessons, Your Majesty.”  

Emily huffed and dropped her shoulders, “I know, I’m coming.”

“Miss Mayhew, do you need someone to escort you back to your parents?” Corvo asked, looking at Alexi again.

Could he read her mind?! Or… was it just his job to know everything that happened in the tower…? Probably the second one. “I um- yes please.” Alexi said, fiddling with her dress again. 

Corvo gave her another single nod, before turning away slightly and making eye contact with Emily. 

Emily moved next to Corvo, “It was nice talking to you, Alexi.”

“You too!” Alexi smiled.

With that, Emily and Corvo turned and began walking away. Emily smiled and waved over her shoulder as they walked, “See you later!”

Alexi waved back. 

-

“You took longer than usual,” Emily said once she and Corvo rounded the corner. 

“You two sounded like you were having a nice talk. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Then why did you?” Emily looked up at her father. 

“Because you’re supposed to be in lessons, and you can’t keep Callista waiting forever,” Corvo said, glancing down at Emily. 

Emily let out a little ‘hmph’ and continued walking, “Can I see Alexi again? I liked her.”

“You’re meeting the Mayhews later today.” 

Emily tilted her head, “Alexi said something like that.” She was glad that at least Corvo remembered her schedule and knew what was happening. Emily knew she didn’t most of the time. 

Emily and Corvo walked on for a bit before Emily spoke again, “You know, really I was performing my Imperial duties by showing Alexi around.”

“Oh? Well, right now, you need to perform your Imperial duty to go to your lessons.” 

“Not if I run off again,” Emily said with a sly grin. 

Corvo put a hand on Emily’s shoulder -- gentle, but firm enough to stop her from moving off too fast -- and looked down at her with an amused expression “ Lessons. ”

Emily sighed, “Fine.” 

[imzadi-caskett-huddy]

House, M.D. Fanfic (10/?)

Thank you to everyone who has taken time to leave a note on my story.  I hope you continue to enjoy my kind of rewrite and/or additions to certain episodes! As always, I don't own House. If I did, Lisa Edelstein would have gotten the respect she deserved contact wise for a season 8.

As stated in previous chapters, the story follows the big picture laid out on the show, but with my own take on things. We have entered Detective Tritter area. Things are about to get real for House and Cuddy

Thanks to @love-hope-faith-feels-like-a-lie on Tumblr for reading my ideas and providing positive feedback! Anything in the way of feedback is always appreciated! I like to know how you like what I'm doing. Enjoy!

xxxxx

"Forget something in the clinic today?"

He studied her for a moment. "Forget to tell me you missed a period?" he countered.

"I'm not pregnant. Stop changing the subject." She arched an eyebrow as he looked into her trashcan. "What are you doing?"

"You only ate half your breakfast," he commented. "Morning sickness must be setting in. No coffee cups... good for baby, but cranky mommy."

"Coffee cups are in the other wastebasket. And they burned my omlette. I'm not pregnant," she shook her head.  "You have to apologize to the guy from the clinic."

"You're going to have to be more specific," he stated simply.

"You left a thermometer in another patient's rectum and just left the clinic?" She asked incredulously.

"Oh, that guy."

"Yes, that guy. You're going to apologize to him."

"I'm not going to apologize to him. The guy was an ass. Speaking of ass... yours is getting huge. Thought that wasn't supposed to happen until later in the pregnancy."

"You are going to apologize to him. And I'm not pregnant. Sometimes an ass is just an ass."

He stared her down for a moment before leaving. He wasn't going to apologize to the guy. He was a bully.

xxxxx

"I'm not apologizing to the guy," he insisted again, following her to the stairs.

"You want to have Wilson talk to your patient for consent, you apologize to the guy from the clinic."

"You're really going to let my patients die over an apology?" He asked her.

She sighed and turned to face him. "I don't care if you mean it. Just apologize," she told him. She paused then before turning to go. "Are you still coming over tonight?" she asked then.

"Am I still allowed to come over without apologizing?" he asked. It was a fair question. He didn't want to see her after work if she was going to spend the whole time yelling at him to apologize to a jerk that he was never going to apologize to.

 

She just looked at him. "Just apologize, House." She wasn't going to tell him not to come over. She had planned on taking a pregnancy test, and she knew how crazy it was, but she wanted him to be there with her. She had taken two in previous months and never even mentioned it to him, but this time she wanted him to be there. Maybe she wanted him to celebrate with her if it was positive. Maybe she just wanted his support if it was negative. Maybe she just wanted to share in the whole experience with him.

xxxxx

She had waited a long as she could. She had called him, called the hospital. When she still hadn't heard from him and he hadn't shown by 9, she took the test anyway. And she sat in her bathroom crying when the test came back negative. She didn't know why she'd thought House would actually show up for her when she needed him to be there.

Her phone rang a few moments later. Seeing an unfamiliar number, she simply let it go to voicemail. She was in no mindset to talk to anyone else at the moment. She pushed herself up and headed to bed, then. Whoever it was, whatever they needed, would just have to wait until morning.

xxxxx

"You didn't answer your phone last night. I tried to call," House said as he walked into her office the following day.

She didn't even look up. She was pissed. And hurt. "Yeah, I was busy."

"I'm sorry I didn't make it. I had a little legal trouble," he took a seat across from her desk, still treading cautiously as he tried to judge her mood. She looked upset. She hadn't come to bail him out and had just chosen to let him sit in jail, so he figured that definitely couldn't be good.

"Yeah, I heard the voicemail you left."

He sighed and twisted his cane between his fingers. "You left me in jail overnight on purpose. You're mad."

It was only then that she looked up from her work. "I'm not mad. I'm...hurt," she admitted quietly.

"Why? I didn't get arrested just to avoid coming over last night or to inconvenience you," he pointed out.

"No, you got arrested because you didn't do what I told you to do."

"I never do what you tell me to do. Why was this time different?" He asked curiously.

She sighed and crossed her arms. "Because..." she started, but stopped, trying to decide how much to reveal. "Because last night I needed you, and you weren't there."

He studied her silently. What wasn't she telling him? "If you were ovulating last night, there's a good chance you're still at that point today...I can come over tonight..."

She breathed deeply. "I'm not ovulating. I took a pregnancy test, and I wanted you there," she finally admitted.

"Oh." That was all he could manage to say. Her admission had shocked him a bit. Why had she wanted him there, exactly? She was obviously pretty upset about him not being there. "Was it positive?" That was a stupid question, and he knew it. If it were, he doubted she'd be as upset.

"That's it? That's all you can say?" She asked. "I wanted you to be there, House. When it came back negative, I could have really used your support. I needed you last night. But were you there? No. Instead of being there, with me like I asked, you were in jail. Because you couldn't swallow your damn pride. I told you to apologize to him. You didn't have to mean it."

He got up to pace. He needed to think. She was pissed at his arrest just as much as him not being there for her. "I would have been there had I not gotten arrested. It's not my fault the guy is abusing his power," he told her. "I'm sorry I wasn't there, but it wasn't my fault."

"How was it not your fault? All you had to do was apologize! And you couldn't swallow your damn pride for five minutes to do something that simple!"

"He's a jerk!"

"You're a jerk! And now you're the subject of a criminal drug investigation!"

He breathed deeply. "I can come over tonight, if you want," he offered.

She shook her head. He was unbelievable. "Don't bother."