#I haven't seen the series since last year

[amoristt]

the night falls like heaven

「 ✦nam-gyu/reader ✦ 」 tags: sfw // hurt/comfort, pining, nam-gyu's pov, lots of angst in an edgy way, very light drxg mentions,

a/n: this'll be a 2 part mini series! so excited to get this started ugh tysm to anon who requested this word count: 9.2k | songs i listened to (x) (x) original request (x)

・❥・Nam-gyu was not a man of many regrets. 

If he had to count, he could fit them all on one hand. Mostly from when he was a teen. Younger and somehow even more impulsive than he was now, drinking through money like water and getting into fights he’d never remember. The worst of them all, however, was one he hadn’t thought would really eat at him. It was unlike himself to get hung up over a girl of all things, but good lord, he was hanging. Strings and all, like a marionette, bleeding and sore at the joints. 

Tough to swallow couldn’t even compare to the feeling of when that specific regret suddenly pops up in the same room after years of abandon. If he hadn’t been so down bad, the sight of you would have only ruffled up his feathers enough to remind him of a better time, but in God’s honest eyes, those feathers of his had been ruffled since the dawn of the very instant you left. The door hadn’t even had a chance to hit you on your way out, nothing but dust and tears in your wake. He was stuck fast, left to his own devices, bouncing between wondering why he let it go so bad and whilst also begging God himself to make you stop being such a bitch. 

But the worst part, the worst part is that even now you still carry this aura of over it all around you. Self-respect colliding with the want to be loved was never an easy tango to dance, all steps just pulling and pushing and trying to snuff out useless feelings and red hot passion. But you twirled until he did what he did best and nudged you to the brink of your breaking point. All that sweet, sweet adoration drained from your face and he saw it- dignity. He saw it on you on your  way out of his apartment, storming past him with biting tears in your eyes. And now, years later, he gets to see it again from across the room.

You’re sitting on a high, high bunk you’ve claimed as yours, people watching. Other than the initial moment you’d seen him in the bubble of people, you haven't bothered sparing him a second glance. It was a beautiful moment- your eyes widening, stopped dead in your tracks before you were on the move all over again. He’s sneaking glances through the corners of his eyes, watching you over his shoulder, and you can’t even give him another second of your day. And the thing that really bothers him is that he knows he can’t stop. 

Out of everyone in this room, your distant presence is a fiery beacon in the darkness and he’s an angry, bitter moth. It’s in his very nature to circle and flutter one step behind, seeking the light, burning at its touch. Singed wings and an endless sneer. If only he could just stop touching the heat, he would surely move on. But he just can’t, and the fact that you can pisses him off so much it makes him lose his breath at times. 

He wished, with the very core of his entire being, that you were weaker. Or, at least, stupider. Maybe then you would have lived up to his expectations and showed up to his door, or at his club, teary eyed and lonely without his superior presence around. He could see it behind his eyes at night, the waver in your voice when you’d beg him to come back into your arms, and more importantly, back into your bed. 

I told you so, he’d say, with that shit eating grin and a hand on your waist guiding you out from the cold.

A forlorn, guideless sheep in need of your shepherd. He could be that for you. If only the word boyfriend didn’t make him shudder with every last fiber of his being. If only that specific little thing wasn’t your breaking point. Your face haunted him- that halo around your irises fading into something far away and charred when he’d had the nerve to actually laugh at you for it. You were grabbing your things and leaving, and he sat watching every moment in clips. It wasn’t anything, back then. You were just mad, in a few days you’d be right as rain climbing into his lap and peppering kisses along his throat. You’d be back, he was sure of it. 

But then the days turned into weeks. And then, to his distaste, those weeks faded into months of silence. He started to catch himself looking for you in crowds, visiting places you’d frequented at just to linger around like an awkward ghost in case he spotted you through the shifting crowds. But you were gone- vanished.

Fine. You’ll never see me again, asshole. 

Those words had been etched into the very walls of his cranium since they’d left your lips in a scathing hiss. Such nasty words, but they shook with every consonant. 

Among your pride was a healthy blend of honesty. You had been true to your word- he really did never see you again. Wiped your slate spotless of anything Nam-gyu.

And it drove him fucking crazy. It made him sick to his stomach in a way he did not think was possible. It was out of control- he couldn’t stop thinking about you, you, you. He missed you more than he didn’t, and he was angrier at himself than he’d like to admit. So instead of admitting, he funnels all that anger into the very shape of you. Drags in the idea of you, his memories of you and shoves them down, down, down, until he truly did think he hated you, after all. 

Until he’s clenching his fist so tight he’s drawing blood and telling himself he’s better off now, without some whining bitch in his ear begging him to stick that boyfriend pin into the thinness of his skin. Thinks that without you hanging on his arm all the damn time, he could really go out and have some fun. He thinks, and he thinks and he thinks until he’s thought too much and suddenly he loves you again and he misses you so bad it’s crushing him under the sheer weight of your absence. 

So, Nam-gyu does what Nam-gyu does best once again, and he drowns himself out with the bitter taste of drugs on his tongue and the sear of alcohol in his blood. 

It all stops.

For a time, anyway. 

You always found ways to seep back into his mind one way or another. Songs that would only make it a second in before he was mashing the skip button. A tv show you’d watched together surviving on the screen roughly a whole minute before it’s switched off. Sometimes it was when he saw something he knew you’d like- a shitty video or meme. Other times you came to him in whispers while he laid out on his own living room floor, out of his mind watching the blank ceiling above him twist and writhe under his spotty vision with a needle poking out of his arm. 

But, most times… Most times you would slither your way to the forefront of his mind just before bed. The touch of you, the smell of you. 

The shape of you underneath him. Hands and quiet breaths. He could still hear the noises you made ringing in his ears, stored away in his memories just to taunt him when he was indisputably alone. Soft skin, even softer thighs. Always so warm, and so wet. So willing. You would come to him while he curled over himself in bed, drunk on porn and memories. 

And afterwards, when Nam-gyu had finished, he would throw his head back onto his pillow and ignore the way it felt like there was a lump in his throat. And that would piss him off even more, because fuck, you should be there with him. Laying by his side running your hands through his hair until he’s falling asleep balancing on the fine line of afterglow and dozing off. 

But you aren’t. You’re doing fuck all with who knows in places he’s never been to, places you probably begged him to go but he couldn’t even remember the name of. You hadn’t answered a single one of his texts, you hadn’t picked up a single call and everytime he hears the first couple seconds of your stupid voicemail he wants to crush his phone in his hands. Vexation was a slippery slope into the fires of fury- rage was like a parasite under his skin, eating away at what little rational thinking he had. 

Voicemail after voicemail. Text after ignored text. Anger was the hardest stage- rage grew horns on the crown of his head and it turned him into something he couldn’t recognize. Or, something he refused to recognize- desperate and heartsick. 

It was supposed to be you. Not him. 

He filled the endless gaps of you with drugs often and women when he could. For a short time it would work and he would wonder why he ever let someone else get him so, so low. But then the drugs would wear off. The random woman in his room that he never bothered to learn the name of would grab her clothes and saunter out the door. He stopped letting them stay the night. He could never sleep, stared at the ceiling until 5am wondering why he still felt like shit. He would be right back where he started, sitting on the couch, staring at the door watching you leave over and over again.  

You stopped updating your socials, quit hanging out with the few people that bounced between his and your crowd, successfully scrubbed him of your life entirely. After a year, he resorted to asking around if anyone had seen you. The answer, as always, was a firm no. It was a corrosive feeling, a constant churn and thrum within the cage of his ribs. It made him even more unrecognizable to himself. Made him invite women into his lap just to shove them away when they didn’t smell like you, or sound like you. Or laugh like you.

It had been so, so perfect before. It was fun, and it was hot all the time, and sex with you felt like heaven was a place on earth. Why couldn’t you see that? Why did you have to go and ruin it with your words and pleading eyes? Nam-gyu doesn’t roll like that. You knew that. He’s a free spirit, he tells himself. No chains, no labels. No holding him down. Even if it was at the feet of this gorgeous, gorgeous body and a honey sweet voice that just always seemed to know what to say. Beautiful eyes that always watched, a smile so saccharine, whispering words against his ear so dirty it made him shiver just to think about. 

The world was too vast to be held down. 

But, truth be told, he was held down. 

He is held down. 

When you walked out of his apartment those years ago, he never left that spot, chewing his nails and anxiously spinning the ring on his finger, watching you go. He started seeing it behind his eyes. Replays it, changes the course, wonders where he’d be right now if he’d just said something different. 

Finding you at the games was like divine intervention. It had to be. Some higher power had crossed his path and plopped you right in front of him. With rolling eyes and a deadpan stare at anything except for him, sure but you were there and you weren't going anywhere anytime soon. God had heard his drug induced prayers of stupor. 

Now it was all about waiting. Waiting for the right moment to dive in and recapture you within him and he’d be right back to drinking you in at every chance he had. He’d do it differently this time, do it right so you’d cling to him and wonder why you ever wanted to leave at all. Make you wonder why you were so stupid to have been so stubborn when everything you could ever need was in the palm of your hand. He was sure of it. That strong, bullheaded expression would blitz is something vulnerable in his hands. A lurch of excitement riveted under his skin among the nerves. 

For now, he waits, and watches. Your presence could never go unnoticed by his dark eyes. 

It’s unfortunate for him that Thanos takes a notice to you, too. It’s hard not to, really, when every time he follows Nam-gyu’s locked line of sight it always leads back to you- this little sweet thing perched up at the peak of the bunks alongside the back, watching the room with this bored stare between mundane yapping with other players. 

“Someone you know?” Thanos’s voice had this subtle drip to it, this underlining excitement that Nam-gyu picks up on almost instantly. His expression stays cool, mostly uninterested despite the way he can’t seem to pry his eyes away from you even as he answers.

“Yeah.”

“Who is she?”

And then he’s stuck. Because his mouth opens for a split second to say, my ex, but he can’t quite say that, now can he? But he also can’t say an old friend either, because you simply weren’t. What you two had was something else entirely- a new plane he struggled to navigate, lovely when things were good, a hellscape when they weren't. The lines were always so blurred, fuzzy with sex and warm laughter.

He decides on something mostly true. “Someone I used to hang out with.”

“Girlfriend?” Thanos’s brow raises with his chirp, leaning forward with clear interest. 

“No.” It comes out quick- too quick, and too heavy. Tinged venom with more baggage than even he could handle at times. Thanos catches it on impact and whistles. 

“I see. So you won’t care if I go chat her up? Hm?” 

“Don’t bother. She’s not like that.” Nam-gyu’s scoffs before he can stop himself, this unsettling seed of jealousy planting itself in his chest. 

“Hm… I guess we’ll see, huh?”

You’re dismounting from your bed and climbing onto the stairs when Thanos jumps to his feet, and Nam-gyu can already feel that itchy panic starting to blotch away at his skin. His hands, his cheeks. That seed takes its place within him bearing vicious roots. 

“Man, don’t bother,” He’s touching at Thanos’s sleeve, his shoulder, anywhere he can to try and gather his friend’s attention. “She can be kind of a bi-”

All it takes is a swat to Nam-gyu’s chest to stop him dead in his tracks, words dying his throat. Shut down, watching his friend take quick steps to you, Nam-gyu following close behind to witness.  If only he could be firmer, never demanding, always suggesting. Always rolling over and showing his soft underbelly at Thanos’s whim. Instead, he lets his lips press into a tight line and let’s it all happen right before him. 

You’re on the bottom step and taking a seat, and you see the rapper approaching before he gets a word in, but your eyes skip over him entirely and settle onto Nam-gyu’s. Distress is building in his muscles, but he’s making damn sure to keep himself in check. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone? You want a friend?”

Up closer now, sharing your space, he sees all the things he’d been missing so deeply throughout the years. You still look just as he remembered- still bearing this expression of bemused coolness, still having these all seeing eyes that seemed to cut right through him. 

“A friend?” you hum, and your voice threatens to pull him in like gravity. “You wanna be my friend?”

If jealousy could sprout through his skin, it’d be an ugly beast of horns and claws. But it can’t, so instead, it takes shape in the way Nam-gyu’s eyes are flicking between yours and the rappers, hands wrapped up in his sleeves. 

“Stick with me, yeah? I promise to keep you safe. My number one priority.” And Thanos is patting his chest, flashing those painted nails. Makes Nam-gyu’s chest tighten, his stomach growing sicker by the second. 

Damn, you can see it, too. There’s no denying the way he’s cringing behind that distant smirk, and he doesn’t think to hide the way he’s twisting his rings on his fingers. When you click your tongue, he knows what's coming. 

“Stick with you, hm… Sorry, but I try to work alone. Partner’s tend to, how do I say…” Those eyes of your slice through him all over again, honing into him when you finish your sentence. “Disappoint me.”

Fuck. Disappointment. Oh god, how that sears into Nam-gyu’s skin. The way you look the rapper up and down, visually sizing him up, would make his heart leap into his throat if he were under that same scrutiny. He never understood how you could always be this intense with such a sweet, sweet face. Kindness was certainly a luxury and he missed it, that never ending fire that kept him warm.

“I can change that for you,” Thanos sings.  “I’m a legend here for a reason.”

“Legend? I’ve never heard of you.” Your brows raise in amusement. 

“You will. Thanos.” He puffs his chest out and nods, a half cocked grin playing over his lips. “Guy’s like me, we don’t disappoint.”

The man actually finds the nerve to reach down and pluck your hand, bringing his knuckles to his lips. Nam-gyu feels red hot scorching through his face but he’s locked in place, watching it like a car crash. Relieved when you yank your hand free and shove it into your jacket’s pocket. It’s the only good thing out of this entire interaction, he finds, especially so when Thanos’s smirk falters into a tight surprised line. 

“Don’t go and do all that. Guy’s like you will always disappoint me.” You lean back against the wall of the step, vexation evident over your features. “How about you talk to me again after the next game, yeah? Maybe I’ll feel different. Thanos.”

You always were so good at slamming the door in people's faces, always brought Nam-gyu joy to witness you shut down the advances of some poor loser trying to gain your affections. Thanos knows he’s been hung out in the cold, too. Barking up the wrong tree in the wrong neighborhood in the wrong country. So, he takes a loose step backwards and shrugs. 

“Your loss.” He sighs, and Nam-gyu follows him all the way back to his bunk in brooding silence. 

Wringing his fingers, he can’t help himself when casts a glance over his shoulder to find you one last time before you’re obscured behind metal frames and moving bodies. When he does, he feels a rush of heat in his cheeks when you’re already stuck fast staring right back, watching him go. He’s silent when he sits down at his little corner of the dormitory, silent when Gyeong-su is harping praises at Thanos. Silent, even, when Thanos says he’s determined to bring you to his side of the map. 

However, he noticeably tenses when Thanos mutters, “What a babe, huh? I should go visit her after lights out.”

Almost immediately there’s hands on his shoulders, pushing and nudging him, demanding his attention. The deepest of sighs leaves the rapper, ducking his head to find Nam-gyu’s eyeline. 

“Come on, man. Don’t be pissed, it’s in my nature, boy. Be honest. You into her?”

“Me and her…” Nam-gyu swallows. “We used to mess around.”

“Lucky you.” Thanos’s is shoving Nam-gyu’s shoulders again. “You cut her lose?”

No, she cut me loose. But Nam-gyu can’t bring himself to say that, the words lost and barred at the tip of his tongue. In the silence, Thanos takes it as confirmation. 

“That’s so cold. If I had her, I’d never let her out of my sight. Sheesh.”

Nam-gyu can’t even form words at all, anymore, irritation and envy wrapping tendrils around his throat and snuffing him out. Your earlier words spin through his brain like a carousel- come find me after the next game. Were you being serious? Were you just saying that to mess with him? He knows you- he knows your tone better than he even realizes, but he suddenly can’t decipher what’s honesty and what isn’t anymore. Jealousy blinds him, thick lenses leading him in all sorts of binds. 

He should have talked to you. He should have made the first move and made sure the first time he was breathing your air was alone. Now he’s anxious, he’s resentful, and he’s humiliated for some reason he can’t quite place. It doesn't help when he can’t resist the urge to look at you one last time, just one for the road, and you’re chatting idly with a man lounging on the other side of the steps you’re currently sitting on. There’s a five foot gap between your bodies but Nam-gyu doesn’t care- the anger that rips through him is blind, you may as well have been fucking the man right in front of him. 

It’s all he can see, tunnel vision encompassing him all the way until the moment lines start to form for lunch. Stewing in his jealousy, a bitter taste blooming over his tongue, he doesn’t jump in line because he’s got an appetite, but simply because you were rather eager to fill your belly. He tails you, matches every step and still has to jump out in front of a random player from taking the spot directly behind you. 

You notice him with a fleeting look tossed over your shoulder, eyes darting from the corners of your eyes and then forward, still as a statue. Desperate to not interact. 

Nam-gyu can’t help himself.

“You into Thanos?”

You audibly laugh at him, and the sound makes him shred the inside of his cheek.

“Maybe. What’s it to you?”

Everything. It’s everything to me. 

You look up at him over your shoulder, watching him through your thick lashes with scorn written all over those beautiful irises. There’s a flash image of you- a memory, tangled between the bedsheets, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes and tear stained cheeks with his hand wrapped around your throat. It’s quick but it hits him like a sucker punch right to the gut. He sucks in a sharp breath. He wants to touch you- he almost does, but the line moves forward a beat and you’re moving with it away from his hesitating fingers. 

“I’m just asking.” He’s trying to be coy, but you can see right through him. 

“You worried, Nam-gyu?” 

That hits him like a sucker punch too. He’d forgotten how his name sounded on your tongue, how it rolled off so perfect and pretty even when you were pissed at him. Sometimes specifically when you were pissed at him, this bubbling anticipation running through him in waves, your passion always the spark lighting the fire in his belly. 

“I’m not worried.”

“You are.” Clocked him, again. Peered into the windows of him and saw that angry ocean of spite and regret behind his eyes. “I know you are. I can see it on you.”

“Not worried.” Nam-gyu shrugs, but he can’t meet your eyes anymore. 

Another sigh ghosts from your lips, but it’s quieter, defeated, almost. 

“I’m not interested in your friend. I’m not interested in anyone.”

And then, he says it. Quietly, as if he doesn’t want you to truly hear.

“...You seemed interested.”

“So you are worried.” You’re crossing your arms and he stares down into your hair, shoving his hands into his pockets. “What if I was? You clearly had nothing to say about it. You were right there- you didn’t tell him we had history? Or did I mean that little to you?”

You’re mad. Holy shit, you’re still so mad at him. But then his brain scrambles to tell him the good side of things- anger is not indifference. So in some ways, maybe more than others, he’s still in that little dome of yours ratting around amongst your thoughts. Means that if he does this right, it would mean something to you to be better this time. 

His lips press into a tight line. He should have talked to you, and now it’s biting him in the ass. It seemed like everything always bit him in the end. And he always let it happen, watched and never interfered. You drive the nail you’d plunged into him even deeper when you throw his words, from all those years ago, right back in his face. That last thing he had said to you before you, or the idea of you, had become a black hole.

“You know what, Nam-gyu? What was it you had said? Oh- uh, why don’t you focus on yourself and I’ll focus on me, yeah?”

It stings. It stings so bad that he physically recoils from the sound of his voice on your tongue, words spilling that just don’t seem right coming from you. Bitter resentment rises in his throat, this reflexive coping mechanism to bite back overtaking his senses. He wants to say I shouldn’t have said that. He wants to say, hear me out. But what ends up leaving him is just as ugly as the rest of his feelings. 

“Jesus. You’re still a bitch.”

The very instance those words tumble from him, he’s already regretting it with every fiber of his being. Even more so when you pluck your bento box from the guard and spin on your heels to glare absolute daggers into the very pits of his soul.

“Get over yourself. I’m glad we had this talk, it was very refreshing.”

This time he does jump to stop you, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. “Just listen-”

“No.” 

He doesn’t hide the way he watches you scamper off to your little ledge, hopping up onto your bed and enjoying your vantage point above all else, focusing on your meal. The man you’d been chatting with earlier is in the bed next to yours and that’s just fucking great. The guard has to pry his stare off of you, and a bento box is practically shoved into his chest, urging him out of line. 

Nam-gyu hates the stone anchoring in his guts. Almost as much as he hates how his appetite never quite returned. All food tasted the same when you left, nothing compared to what you’d used to make him. 

The bento box was no different. 

That night, sleep avoided him. There was something keeping him awake- buzzing under his skin no matter how many times he’d rolled over and shifted himself into a new position. Of course he knew what it was- it never really left him, after all. The fact of knowing you were across the room, all alone in your bed, was this incessant knock in the back of his skull tapping him back into reality whenever he found himself comfortable enough to doze off. His mind was stuck on you, as always, wondering what you looked like right now. 

Did you sleep the same as before? Laying on your side, hair messed over the sides of your face and splayed over the pillow, those heavy lashes of yours kissing along the bone of your cheeks. He always told himself that it was you who was attached, that he was some great being and you simply touched the stars through him. How wrong he had been to think that, when the entire time he’d fit so perfectly against you, he a piece to your puzzle. 

How wrong he had been, because when he’s staring up idly at the ceiling, he thinks of the better days in his life. Always, always, it was you. Thinking of you sitting pretty in his passenger seat, watching out the window as the world blurred by in rushes. The wind blowing through your hair, your necklace catching the glint of the sun. You’d feel his eyes on you and you'd turn and smile at him so darling, so lovely, that he thought it could heal. Remembering when you’d walk into a room, shining like a beacon just for him. You’d find his lap, find his hair, find his lips against your own and you’d cry his name like a prayer. 

He was an idiot to have thought he was the something in the nothing- it was you. 

Even when he finally drifted off into sleep were you still infecting the very membrane of his mind. In his dreams, you were just as warm as you had always been. Bated breaths, hanging onto every word that left his lips, fingers that longed to touch and stroke and feel. His heart slowed to a peaceful beat, and his body curled into his pillow and blanket, trying to recreate the shape of you in his arms. For a time that evening, it worked. 

But then he woke up, and Thanos was leaning over his bed asking him if he was dead, and all those wonderful moments he’d relived were gone in a rush of bright lights and endless chatter bouncing off the walls of the dormitory. Like an addiction, the first thing he thought of when he sat up, was you. Thought about you all the way through the winding staircases and into a giant room with rainbow’s painted over the hard floor. So lost in thought that he almost misses it when the speaker starts instructing them- a 5 player minigame race. 

Teams of five. Okay, he could do that. Easy. Gyeong-su, him, Thanos. That was already three. 

It’s natural instinct when he starts to search for you in the bubble of people, his fourth member, even though he’s more than sure you’re all too excited to send him packing. The way you had looked at him at dinner the day before, he wasn’t sure if you’d even entertain a conversation with him at all, let alone join their team. But this is beyond an argument- beyond him trying and failing to lull you in, this is life and death. 

“Hey, there’s your girl again.” Thanos spots you first. He follows Thanos’s line of sight and sure enough, there you are, standing with your hands shoved into your pockets with this far away expression he can’t quite read. 

His girl. It would make him shiver, if he wasn’t already on the brink of tweaking. 

“Let’s go see if she’s changed her mind.” 

Thanos is running his hands through his hair and popping the collar of his tracksuit, a particular bounce to his step when he bounds right for you. Just as the first time, always on the lookout for yourself, you spot him coming before he gets to you. Already you’re annoyed.

By the time Nam-gyu slithers up beside him, you’re already turning Thanos’s first wave of advancements down, a snark to your tone and a glint in your eyes. 

“I’m good, thanks though.”

Thanos blinks, looks left and then right. “You’re good? I don’t see a team?”

“I’ll find one.”

“You got one right here,” He pats his chest again, before he slings his arm over Nam-gyu’s shoulder haphazardly. “Come on. You’ll be safe.”

The intensity in which you roll your eyes is fierce- an expression Nam-gyu really had only thought he could draw out of you. To make matters worse for his friend, you don’t even bother with saying no again. Instead you merely wave a dismissive hand and turn on your heels, meandering into the crowd. 

“You were right, Nam-su.” Thanos’s face drops and he unwinds his arm from Nam-gyu’s shoulder. “Not getting anywhere with that one.”

Nam-gyu is so focused watching you, that all he murmurs is, “It’s Nam-gyu.”

“Yeah. Nam-su, Nam-gyu. Look over there.” He has to force himself to look away, following Thanos’s point in the other direction you’d gone. A girl with short black hair stands off to the side, eyes traveling and sizing up all her potential team mates. Thanos pops his collar again, a hound dog chasing a brand new scent. “Let’s go see what she’s up to.”

For the first time, Nam-gyu doesn’t follow him. He says, you go, you go, and lets Thanos wind himself up all on his own before watching him go. He’s much more concerned with you and your team, this sense of anxiety starting to bud in his gut. 

He finds you like a moth to flame. Your shoulders slump at the sight of him, tired and irked. 

“Not this again.” You groan. “What, do you think you’re gonna come sweeten me up and I’ll say yes? I’m not playing on your damn team.”

Nam-gyu shakes his head and steps in front of you when you try to turn away again. His nerves are on the rise, and so is his temper. You draw it out of him like nothing else, he can’t stop himself. 

“Why not?” He asks, looking down at you with furrowed brows. You cross your arms, barring yourself from him. 

“Because I’m not.”

“This is no time to be stubborn. You don’t know what the next game is. You might need guys on your team.”

“I plan on it. There’s other men here other than you and whatever the hell his name is.”

Other men. Nam-gyu’s mouth dries up, his fingers already wringing in his sleeves. His jaw tenses with his temper, teeth grinding. 

You didn’t need other men, not when he would do anything under the sun to keep you safe. Anyone else may just let you die. Can’t you see that? 

“Why are you being-... Being like-...” He stops himself. Holy shit, his brain actually fires off the warning shot and he stops dead in his tracks staring at you in bewilderment. You adopt this expectant glare, a spiteful uptick to your lips that darkens your eyes. 

“Say it.” You sneer. “Go ahead, say it. I’m being a bitch, right?”

The word fights against his lips to get out. You’re waiting for it, at the edge of your seat, fully ready to take it in and chew it up and spit it out right back at him. But he bites it back and he swallows it down into his chest because this means something to him. Because it might mean something to you. 

“Being like this.” He stammers. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”

Your eyes widen just a fraction. “Keep me alive?”

“Can you really trust anyone here? You know me.”

“I do know you.” A flash of something provoked and somber rivets within your eyes. Anger mounting, your heart colliding with your brain in real time right before him. “That’s exactly why I won’t be on your side.”

If he’d had his foot in the door before, you were properly shoving it back outside. He doesn't know what to do, so he does the first thing he can think of as a creature of impulse, and unfortunately when it came to you that meant he was all hands. 

“Wait-” He catches you just as you’re turning away, tries to bulldoze over your defiance and smooth out all the harsh edges of your protests with the broad flats of his palms. Fingers clutching your tracksuit at your shoulders and then he’s realizing that he’s touching you for the first time in years. Your skin from underneath your jacket is just as warm he remembers, your eyes are just as doe-like at his touch too. Stubborn and ornery but overflowing with passion and static energy that settled into his bones. He needs it, he needs it. The obsession of you hits him in waves of yearn. 

He needs you more than air, he thinks. 

“Get your hands off of me, right now.” But you aren’t tearing him away- so maybe that’s progress. 

“Come on.” He ducks his head, shoulders slumping, and it physically hurts him to feel this desperate. “Stay with me.”

Oh, you don’t like those words one bit. They hit your eardrums and your eyes narrow in slits, and then yeah, you’re reaching up and catching his wrists in his iron grip before ripping his paws off your jacket. It takes a long moment for you to speak, but when you do, he swears he can hear the devil amidst the heartache. 

“You know that I can’t stay with you. Never again.”

His hands twitch to touch you again- anything to keep you there for a moment longer. 

“Come on.” 

Sadness like pits swirl in your eyes, drags your lips into a frown. “You gotta’ stop Nam-gyu. I can’t do it.”

An awful, awful mass grows in his stomach when you turn your back on him. Gets bigger with every inch you build between you and him, threatens to take over entirely and swallow him whole right in the middle of that room. If it did, and he was to be gulped up by the void, perhaps he wouldn't have to feel like this any longer. And he wouldn’t have to watch you disappear behind all the moving bodies. 

He was weaker than he was three years ago. You made him weaker. Back then, if you’d been so sure of yourself he found it rather easy to deter you. A beastly way about him when he would have just ripped you by the hand and brought you over to his team and made you sit the hell down and just stay with him. Something possessive, something under his skin at the thought of you sharing the same air as anyone other than him. You used to be so malleable in his hands- but he knows, now more than ever, that that was truly never the case. You let yourself be pliable. You let yourself fall to him. He could never, not even now, make you do anything. Not really. 

That’s the part that burns him to the peaks of his soul. That strength about you. You’re so much stronger than him, with an energy iron so it’s like running headfirst into a wall when you’d no longer graced him with your softness. Such a double edged sword, that will of yours. That attitude and the passion made him feel alive. Cold and disposed after you’d properly slammed the gate right in his face. No leverage, no space for him in your heart any longer. 

It’s cold, Nam-gyu finds. Lonely without you. 

And then Thanos goes and invites some random girl with a poor attitude (that isn’t yours) and an even weaker buddy. He tries to tell him- remind his friend of the potential disadvantage but like always all it took was a dismissive wave to get him to screw his lips shut. Rolled over, tongue caught in his throat, weakened. 

He spends a majority of his time waiting for his teams turn arguing with Se-mi and tossing gazes over his shoulder to keep a very keen eye on you, only to find a sneer growing on his features after seeing you chatting with the same player as earlier, the man with the bed next to yours. Laughter and smiles roll from your lips as natural as breathing air, and he’s nudging you with his arm and you’re letting him with this expression of pure amusement. 

That should be him. 

That ugly face of betrayal peeks through the cracks all over again, with guilt and anger and regret following in tow close behind. Sitting on his shoulders like little devils, spinning and racing through his body in waves. If you saw his face- you’d never suspect it, but his hands shake in his lap. His jaw tenses so tightly his teeth could burst into powder. Squared shoulders and an endless drag to his lips. Something in the sight of you enjoying that guys presence is reminding him of all these shitty feelings he’d been faced with when you two were together- well, no, not together, he remembers- and then he’s even angrier. Angry at you, angry at that random ass player you were talking up, angry at himself for letting it get here in the first place. 

Thanos pops open his necklace beside him and draws a fun little pill from its contents, and Nam-gyu makes it a mission to get his hands on one of those sweet little pick-me-ups. The pill is bitter on his tongue but he swallows it down in delight. And it works, too, because the moment the colors start to glow and fuse together and all sounds become this echoing fishbowl of noises, you’re vacated from the corners of his fuzzy mind. For a time, he’s at peace all over again, lost in the blurry joy. 

By the time he comes down, he’s already back in the dormitory. 

Though it takes a moment for him to realize it, he’s taking inventory of all the surviving players. One by one, watching them fill the room and find their creaky beds or their little groups. Most were distraught, though some were particularly perturbed. It takes a couple teams before he understands that what he’s really looking for, naturally, is you. He’s always searching for you, even when he knew you weren’t searching for him back. 

That’s the change, and it dawns on him like a rapture. He’d never had to care before- you were always this constant in his life, something that would always bounce right back if he tossed you aside. He didn’t give a damn if it upset you, he didn’t give a damn if it ate away at you like termites through wood. But now he does, and he gives so many damn’s they’re driving him crazy. 

Any moment spent sober and lucid were moments entirely taken up by you.

Any moment now you’ll come strutting through those doors, head held high and gunning it to make sure Nam-gyu knew exactly how much you didn’t need him. 

But then ten teams turn into twenty, and twenty five into thirty. 

“How many teams were there?” Nam-gyu asks with a voice steadier than even he expected. Thanos doesn’t need to question anything, watching the doorway all the same. 

“Fifty-six.” Se-mi hums from her spot, leaning back against the steps. 

Thirty eventually turns to fifty. 

Too much time has passed, and you’ve still yet to pop out through that doorway. He double checks those who’d already shown their faces, hoping to find you through the cracks of them, but you’re simply not there. There’s a shovel digging pits and moats into his stomach. Another wave of players trickles in and he scans them all over the same, only to feel that hollowness inside him grow once more. They saunter to their beds, to their little groups, taking up space and taking up air that should belong to you. 

Where the hell were you?

“Only two teams left,” Thanos hums. “Where’s that girl of yours?”

Nam-gyu can’t force himself to answer this time around. So, instead, he presses his nails between his teeth and nervously shifts his weight from left to right. Though he shrugs, the anxiety within him was palpable, all lines and tension that he tried to bury with nonchalance. But it wasn’t working, and felt like he was being ripped apart from the inside out.

Mind racing, thoughts circling him like birds over fresh kill. The final team walks through the doorway, slow as zombies, shifty eyed and hurriedly rushing to their beds. His eyes sit on the door, waiting, waiting. 

No one comes through. 

His shoulders fall limp. 

You didn’t make it. 

“That’s a shame.” Se-mi sighs, the sound swimming in Nam-gyu’s ears. 

Loss, real loss was a foreign feeling within his chest. He’d seen it described in the movies, in songs, this soul eating all consuming weight that blanketed over bodies and crushed, but nothing could have ever prepared for the blistering moment it wrenches itself within the confines of his heart, within the deep ache of his bones. It didn’t settle properly in his throat- his body trying to force the alien ripple of dread stitching itself right between his ribs. It hurts- his lungs can’t take in air. His breath wheezes past his lips in shallow pants, unable to tear his eyes away, like at any moment you’ll suddenly materialize right before him. 

He presses his lip into a tight line and digs his nails into his palms, anything to release a fraction of the agony festering within his body. 

Brain on fire, shaking hands and the image of you dead in a thousand different flashes, a sting to his waterlines that has him scrambling to shove his fingers against the thin skin. 

Don’t fucking cry. Don’t fucking cry.

“Bad luck. Sorry, boy.”

All the skin on his body has flushed red and sticky. He ducks his head down towards his lap, desperate to hide within himself, even more desperate to hide this part of himself from the watchful eyes of his group. He should have just made you join them. Should have thrown you over his shoulder and wrapped an immovable grasp around your arm and held you hostage until everyone had a team and then you’d have no one else to turn to. No one else, nothing else except for him. 

He can’t even hear his friend’s counterfeit empathy over the swell of his heartbeat in his ears. His body is too heavy to hold up, his arms dragging as lead, his head even heavier on his shoulders. Uncanny urges to tear at the skin of his face overcome him and he has to bury them into his hair in release, roughly running his digits through the black locks, trying to breathe and breathe and breathe. A lump the size of a boulder burrows into his throat.

Cracking his eyes open to peek down at his lip, squeezing them shut when his vision is wet and blurry. His lower lip trembles until it’s caught in his teeth, biting hard into the skin. 

Don't fucking cry.

Why did you have to be so stubborn? If you’d have just let him take care of you this one fucking time, you would be alive right now. You should be alive right now- pissed and glaring fury in his direction but breathing and taking up space and existing-

“Ah, they made it. Here I thought they were all goners.”

Se-mi’s casual tone barely reaches him, but it’s got him frantically flicking his gaze back up to the archway, his hands falling from his face, trying to see through the blotches in his sight. A handful of players take soft steps into the room, all shaken up, all bewildered.

There you are. His racing heart stops entirely.

You’re sauntering into the dormitory like a wounded animal, all hands wringing out in front of you and lines drawn into your frown. For the first time, in Nam-gyu’s eyes, you look small. Frightened. Every step you take has a weight to it he’s never witnessed you bear. And even from across the room, even with rigid tears trapped in the corners of his eyes, he can see the grip of fear on the flat of your throat. 

All those jumping thoughts settle into a tunnel vision, you at the epicenter of his quaking nerves simmering down into stillness. He forgets how his chest had twisted as if a knife had been planted between his collarbones, and he forgets how he had almost lost his lunch right there on the floor. All because you’re standing there in the middle of the room hugging yourself, white as a ghost, even paler when you lift your head up and see the way Nam-gyu is trapped in your line of sight. 

Nam-gyu see’s it. No hate, no dejection. 

Relief- this instant where your widened eyes soften, your frown lifts into a slack-jawed breath of solace. It rocks his world when it hits him and it lights a flame so hot under his skin it’s burning through his veins. All the air trapped in his lungs leaves him at once and he can pinpoint the exact moment all the tensions in his shoulders and back melt away in nothingness. The tears dry, his lower lip released from his gnashing teeth.

The man you’d joined earlier pats your shoulder and offers you a pathetic, wavering thumbs up. You can’t seem to return his dull enthusiasm. In fact, you look worse than Nam-gyu’s seen you thus far. Changed, all wires sticking exposed and sparking. There’s this lifelessness to your body when you climb up the stairs and have to heave yourself up into your bed, crossing your legs and resting your chin on your palms propped up over your knees. 

When your eyes meet his, he expects some sort of sign of contempt, or perhaps maybe you’d refuse to meet his gaze entirely. Instead, for the first time since you’d arrived, you find him first. 

You offer him a pitiful open palmed wave. 

The pearly gates crack open and Nam-gyu feels it again- warmth. Even just a little bit, like lighting a match in a snowstorm, huddling around the flame. He half cocks a smile, and he waves back. 

--

Lunch came quicker than he’d anticipated, and much to Nam-gyu’s dismay, you weren’t exactly thrilled to hop into line. In fact, ever since you’d let him jam his fingers back into your closing door, you’d hardly acknowledged anything other than your lap. Even more so upsetting, that player you hung around tapped your mattress to gather your attention, pointing to the line, sighing in defeat when you’d shook your head. 

Jealousy seeps into his wounds all over again, quiet, but equally as simmering. Don’t act like you know her. Little devils tapping away at his psyche. She doesn't need you to check up on her.

But then again, he realizes, maybe you do. 

His mouth dries when the sound of his thoughts footsteps come running up on him. His greed. His innate ability to leave you unchecked and grappling. That was among the sea of problems Nam-gyu had been struggling to grasp. Here he was, trying to drag you back into the tar pits of his hold and he hadn’t even tried the basics of kindness. The step one of it all. Always taking, taking, taking and demanding more at every swipe. Always expecting, never building. 

So he jumps into line before he can second guess himself, and he takes his bento box with a grateful nod and he doesn’t waste a second before he’s chasing the trail of you to your bed. From your high point, perched and unmoving, all he can do is climb the stairs and rest his hands over the corner of your mattress. Your far away gaze lifts from your lap and settles down to him. 

The air is different. The landscape of you has changed. 

“What is it.” Your tone is uncannily flat, but it’s void of its bite, its drive. 

“Can I come up?” 

It’s a simple request, but it leaves a shake at the end of his sentence. It’s only natural when he mentally prepares himself for you to slap no onto his forehead, but you scoot over, and he takes the spot so quickly you wouldn’t even have the chance to say no if you thought about it too much. He hoists himself up and over, fills the gap at your side, just as he should have done days ago. He sits the bento box at the crest of your lap.

“What’s this?” Blinking down at the food, you make no effort to pick it up. 

“Fish and rice.” Nam-gyu shrugs. “Looks like an egg, too.” 

“I can see that. I meant, what are you doing giving me this?”

“...You didn’t get anything.”

As your fingers gingerly touch the container, eyes scanning over the contents, Nam-gyu feels he can breathe easier. This is a win for him- you aren’t fighting him anymore. Still on the edge, always ready to run, but the look in your eyes isn’t pure hatred or outright hurt. A swell of pride overcomes him when you pluck the chopstick and murmur, thank you. 

You’re pliable. Now, more than ever. 

You eat in silence. He lets you eat in silence, even though peace isn’t exactly one of his virtues.  Partly because he doesn’t know what to say to you, but mostly because he’s got this innate fear that he’s going to say something shitty and you’re going to hate him all over again for it. A million words are always shoving and pushing against his lips and he fumbles with navigating them. So, silence, it is. 

But it doesn’t bother him. Silence meant that you were simply just there, existing, the one thing he had longed for over the years. He knew, deep in his heart, he’d fucked up when he began to miss the very presence of you. No sex, no drugs, no push or pull, just you. And now he gets to take whatever you’ll give in micro doses, greedy and starved for you. Fighting the urge to pull you into himself where you could never climb out. He refrains- he forces himself to just be there. 

No longer could he be the creature he had been all those years ago. He had to be different- not all rough edges and clawing hands, ripping and taking. Or dark eyes watching your every move, or jagged words cutting your flesh with the highs and lows of his tone. Something better, this time. Something for you. 

Tomorrow would be a new beast entirely. And, in less than a few hours, the lights would flicker off and bask the dormitory into hues of red and blues. You would lay alone in your all-too-large bed and he would sink into his mattress drugged out of his mind thinking countless thoughts of you, you, you. The distance would feel like miles- he needed you right there, right then, always. Anything other than what he had sitting beside you was a vast ocean. 

The bento box appears in front of his lap, half eaten.

“You’re not going to eat it?” Nam-gyu’s brows knit.

“You should eat, too. What, scared of my germs now?” You murmur, and when he meets your eyeline, he sees something familiar in those hues. Something nurturing, sweet. Tender. 

Nam-gyu picks up the chopsticks, and he eats.  For the first time in years, his food tastes like food.

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

I feel the final fight in DDS3 would be improved if Karen was up there fighting alongside Matt, and it was a 2 on 1 on 1 fight. I think that would've improved things over having Karen and Foggy sidelined.

You mean against Bullseye or Fisk? I liked that it was Matt alone but it could have been great to have Karen and Foggy show up right when Matt is so close to killing Fisk... so that they could see how he managed to stop himself and showed right there and then the great hero he is. Considering their reluctance to accept his vigilantism for two entire seasons (+ Defenders), it would have served them well. Then add to that a scene towards the end where they apologize and finally choose to accept that side of him and it would have been amazing.

[smeg-and-the-red]

I might be very brave and try to watch BTE when I finish rewatching series 8

[scribe-awoken]

"So after years of development hell brought on by the internal politics of their R&D and product divisions, RCA's CED home video format, the very thing that was supposed to save the company by replicating their success as an early pioneer in radio and television, instead just flopped so hard that it killed the company, all because the project was 11 years behind schedule and had already been beaten to market by Betamax, VHS, and even Laserdisc."

[chuluoyi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

in the wake of your scandalous divorce, you fall into the arms of emperor gojo satoru. for a while, you believe you have found love… until it becomes clear that your new husband is scheming behind your back! love, marriage, divorce… are you doomed to go through this path the second time?

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, marriage of convenience, explicit smut, pregnancy

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress. this is the second part of remarried empress au trilogy! wc. 9.2k ! thank you so much for your love in the first part🩵 but as of now, TAGLIST IS CLOSED so i'd appreciate it if the comment section won't be flooded with asks for tags :')

credit header goes to @/mongsanghwa in twitter!

prev. all hail the empress | last. long live the empire

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Heavens, help me... I love her too damn much!

For Gojo Satoru, love was once an abstract concept. At first, he thought it was admiration, or a sense of obsession—

But on the day he watched you become Zen’in Naoya’s bride, Satoru realized it was much deeper than that. It felt like the sharpest sword had pierced straight into him and lodged itself there.

And then, years later— as if hearing his prayers, you became his. Since then, his life was perfect, because he wasn't lying when he said that you were everything he wanted in life.

Yet in a twist of fate, that same sinking, horrific feeling washed over him... as he watched the pagoda he built for you engulfed in flames.

You were there. Satoru felt himself staggering as he took in the mortifying sight. You and his unborn child are inside!

He didn't waste a breath as he dashed towards where you were, crushing everything in his path in the process, but just as he was about to enter the scorching temple—

“Satoru, no!” Suguru grabbed him, restraining him with his own body. “Get back!”

“No!” he screamed at him frantically. “She is there! Suguru, let go—!”

And then the worst happened, as the pagoda completely crumbled into a heap of rubble. Satoru's breath was knocked out of him as he faced the reality that he couldn't save you in time. And he felt like losing his consciousness as he wheezed, and thrashed in Suguru's hold.

It was all too much for him to comprehend as he struggled against the devastation before him.

How... did this happen? You were happy. You were about to welcome a child into your lives! The two of you really were...

SEVERAL WEEKS PRIOR

Your husband is trying to use you to wage a war... against your homeland.

You secluded yourself in your study, trying to make sense what you just overheard.

In a broader perspective, Satoru's actions could be constituted as national defense. If he perceived the Eastern Empire as a threat, then countermeasures were indeed necessary. But if not...

Regardless, it was not the very idea that blew you, but how he planned to use you to sway sentiment in your former country, to weaken them.

Is that what he's been aiming all this time? You felt like a hypocrite to question this since you too were using him. But these days, you were certainly not using him—you were falling in love with him.

It was strange, because you were supposed to be furious if that was his intent from the start. Yet what you felt right now was profound sadness, possibly even denial and heartbreak. You kept thinking how there must be another explanation—

“Sweetheart, hello~!”

You were startled when the door to your study was suddenly flung open, and the man from your thoughts strode in with a broad grin, completely oblivious to your inner turmoil.

"Satoru." You fixed him with a genial smile, even as nausea churned within you. Straightening your skirts, you looked up at him.

"I've been told you haven't been well, and Shoko said you've seen the physician," Satoru frowned, his long fingers cradling your face as he half-sat on your desk. "How did it go? What did he say?"

"Oh..." you clammed up, feeling at loss. "He said..."

Your dashing husband tilted his head curiously, bright eyes softened, worried lines etched on his face were so clear... and despite your conflict, you didn't have the heart to deny him this news.

"I'm with child." This time, your smile was genuine as you pushed back your intrusive thoughts. "Satoru... I'm carrying our child."

For a full ten seconds, Satoru was stunned, staring at you with a blank expression, his lips slightly parted. "H-huh...? Child? A... baby?"

"Mm-hm. A living baby."

"O-oh..." Satoru blinked his eyes rapidly—looking at your face, then your abdomen—before his expression broke into absolute wonder, broadly grinning. "T-that's... oh— it's—!"

To say he was speechless didn't cut it as he stuttered, messed his hair, pinched his own cheek, becoming restless yet looking so incredibly giddy—

"My queen!" Satoru suddenly lifted you and spun you around midair. "My beautiful wife—!" before gently sitting you on the desk and burying his face in your skirts, hugging your waist tightly. "Good lord, I'm— I'm so—!"

It hadn't truly dawned on you until now that you were going to become a mother. Witnessing Satoru's unabashed reaction as he nestled his face into you… nearly brought tears to your eyes.

Right in this moment, you didn't entertain any other thoughts. You were deeply moved by your husband's overwhelming excitement for your baby. And the realization that, despite Naoya's accusations—

Satoru looked up at you the second you sniffled, and he immediately drew you closer, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Hey, no tears, yeah?" He rested a hand on your jaw, his eyes sparkling with utter adoration as he gazed at you. "This is wonderful. We're going to be parents. This child... a part of you and me—we're going to bring them into the world."

You tugged his collar close and brushed your lips against his. And he responded with equal fervor. You yearned for this closeness with him.

. . .

But still in the back of your head, that lingering, buried fear whispered—

Is the man who adores you this much... capable of hurting you to the same extent?

With your bare bodies pressed closely, and you under him, Satoru could sense the rapid beat of your heart. And in return, you felt the heat of his palms against your skin and the tremors in his breath.

Yet now, in your marital bed, it quickly became clear to him that you, who were usually so composed and collected, were nervous. Satoru couldn't suppress the smile spreading across his face even if he tried.

"This is far from our first time, Empress." His coy smirk taunted you as he littered kisses along your jawline and chest. "What are you so jittery about, hmm?"

"Ah..." you let out a soft sigh as he sucked your breast with his mouth. "N-nothing... you're mistaken."

"Hmm... not confessing? Right..." He then grabbed the generous mound of your other breast and fondled it, making you squirm and moan.

But in the midst of this eroticism, suddenly your mind was thrown back to—

“That’s why I have her here.”

"Satoru," you breathed out, catching his hands. He looked up to you in slight surprise, thinking that you wanted to stop.

But he was in for a plot twist when you first pushed him, then flipped him underneath you, straddling him and capturing his lush lips, yanking his hair in the process.

"Whoa— hey..." Satoru held your hips, visibly startled but clearly enjoying your sudden whim, snickering. "My queen—ohh— you're a sight to behold, on top of me."

He grabbed the flesh of your bottom, sinking his fingers into it and pulling you forward. You let yourself be moved until your thighs were next to his ears.

Suddenly, it was, at once, the most peculiar experience—the greatest confidence boost you had ever received, and the hottest thing he had ever seen.

"You're so damn wet already," your husband nipped your inner thigh playfully as he observed your folds, and you gasped. "Are you ready?"

In response, you slammed yourself onto his face because, right now, you were in a less than forgiving mood.

"You look good under me," you darkly retorted, but then you choked on your own breath when your husband started licking your folds messily with his tongue.

Satoru smirked at the sound of your breathless noises, responding by lapping even more fervently. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tightening their grip on his scalp as you began to grind yourself against his face.

"You a-are really n-nasty!" you moaned, voice breaking at the feeling his sinful tongue parting your opening. "Maybe y-you have lied to me… all th-is time."

Satoru furrowed his brows in slight confusion, and perhaps a bit of annoyance, as he pinched your clit in retaliation, causing you to draw in a sharp breath.

"You're— awful!" but contrary to your claims, your face contorted with pleasure as the tight coil in your belly spasmed. "How m-many women... h-have you beguiled like m-me?"

He almost laughed into your ass. Literally. If being called awful was the price for pleasuring the most beautiful woman in the lands, then Satoru would be happy to be that horrible person every day of his life.

But then, you suddenly shifted on top of him, no longer positioning your hips in his face, and he quickly caught your face, crashing his lips against yours so both of you wouldn’t part for even a second.

"Nobody else," he murmured, wet lips and tongue ravishing yours, so much lust glistening in his eyes. "I'm all yours— forever." Just as he whispered it amidst pants, he groaned when your hand sneakily went to his very hard length.

And firmly grasped it. He got swollen just by tasting you and hearing your noises earlier. He growled, and against his senses, he pushed you down to lodge it inside you, penetrating and splitting you apart in one go.

“Ah—! Satoru— it’s too…!” you babbled breathlessly, your nails digging into his shoulders, feeling his huge cock pulsing inside your tight walls.

“Your fault,” he rebuked, eyes narrowing into darker shades, rigorously moving his hips against yours as he sat up. It was impossible to hold it in any longer, he could feel it already.

He tensed up, adjusting his position, so close to losing it inside you, and when he heard your dirty mewls and felt you shudder—reverberating through his body too—Satoru gripped your waist tighter, groaning, holding you in place to release his load inside you with precision.

Your body gave in as well, releasing at the same moment his cum burst inside you. Your vision blurred as the nastiest of moans escaped you, yet you felt so safe as your husband caught you in his arms.

. . .

"Are you okay?" Satoru asked worriedly after you rolled off him in the aftermath of your bliss. "Do you feel sick?" Your unfocused eyes met his, and he looked panicked, pulling you closer. "Shit, did I go too far? I shouldn't have, especially with the baby still in the early stages..."

"I'm... okay," you croaked, trying to reassure him. "Just tired..."

Heaving a relieved sigh, Satoru pecked you in the lips.

"Am I... a mess?" you leaned on him with a blissful smile, feeling his cum still trickling out between your legs.

"Yeah... My beautiful mess, that is." Satoru chuckled, reveling in the state of your disarray. "Soon enough," his hands traced your skin before settling on your tummy, a fond smile curving his lips. "Our baby will grow here."

"Yes—" you replied, placing your palm over his. "Do you... want a boy or girl?"

A boy would be the much sought-after prince, and you fully expected him to favor it, until to your surprise, Satoru lightly hummed and pressed a kiss on your belly button.

"Does that matter? What's important is you deliver them safely and they're healthy," he chuckled. "A princess will be nice... she'll turn out to be as lovely as you."

"But the heir has to be a prince..."

"Nah. I can always amend the succession norms. I'm the emperor."

And you giggled next. Seeing how free you looked, Satoru thought you were the woman overturning his skies and stars, and you truly are—as now you are the mother of his own flesh and blood, his future empire.

There will be a nation-wide celebration for you. Satoru insisted it was a must, and he would invite dignitaries from neighboring empires and kingdoms as well.

Including the Eastern Empire.

. . .

“Your Majesty. I... bring a gift and an invitation from the Western Empire.”

Naoya clacked his heel on the carpet, casting a sharp, yet uninterested look at his aide.

“There will be a celebration for—” the poor man gulped uneasily, faltering as if he could foresee how his emperor would react. Naoya scowled.

“Spit it out.”

“The former empress’ pregnancy, Your Majesty!”

“What...?” At that moment, he snapped his head towards him. It felt like everything he had ever known came crashing down. “Y/N...?”

That can’t be possible. For many years both of you had failed. That was why he took that maid and divorced you. No, upon reflection, it was never truly his intention to divorce you—he had wanted you to raise that child if you couldn't bear one.

But then you completely ignored him and had an affair with Gojo Satoru. He was furious. He couldn't bear the disgrace of it all, so he went with the divorce, if only to assert some control. However, the joke was on him, as you ultimately fled with Gojo entirely.

But if you aren’t infertile... Then, what did that make him?

Numerous thoughts ran through his mind. Was it possible that it was his child instead of Gojo’s? How many months had it been anyway?

...or could it be that he is the one who is—!

“No...” he muttered, frantic, taking sharp breaths. “Absolute rubbish!”

The aide stared at him in fear, as Naoya appeared unhinged now. But soon, that fear gave away to pity, as the emperor trashed his desk and howled in frustration— but contrary to the expected fury, Naoya looked like he was mourning, evident by the way he flung everything but the very portrait from his coronation day.

Of him and you. Even after that disastrous divorce, he had never taken it down from the wall of his study. Now, Naoya was staring at it, a multitude emotions clouding his eyes.

This man, just as the aide had always thought, has thrown away the only good thing he has in his life.

“Are the invitations sent already?” Satoru asked with a blooming smile, rolling the yarn out of his cat’s reach as the poor kitty grappled to catch it. “And how are the preparations going?”

“Banquets are usually handled by the Empress, but you really go out of your way and do it instead,” Suguru shook his head, unamused by the added workload it brought him, especially considering his disinterest in festivities.

“They’re all sent, some of them responded—before you ask, Naoya hasn’t— and I’ve cascaded the preparation to Shoko, since I have no clue what to do about it.”

“Well, not that I care if he’s going to stay sour and wants his name tarnished in the daily papers as a bitter ex-husband…” Satoru shrugged, petting Sugu-chan as the cat purred contentedly. “He is tactless, he very well might be.”

“You really want to spite him, don’t you…” Suguru sighed. “You even sent him a note. It was unnecessary.”

“He was the one hurling curses at me and my empress first. I’m just returning the favor.”

The note in question was of lines after lines of flowery nonsense about gratitude and whatnot. Satoru imagined Naoya's vein would burst after reading his card.

“I’m happy for you, Satoru.” As exasperated as Suguru was, his smile was genuine when he said it. “A royal baby, huh...”

"Suguru." The emperor's voice suddenly dropped an octave, surprising him. "What about the placement of the totem I told you the other day?"

The abrupt shift in conversation made Suguru visibly uncomfortable, and again, they were back to this topic.

"You're seriously going to do this?" the duke asked, almost in disbelief. "Satoru, you're going to become a father. You have everything already. This will lead to war one way or another, and—what if the Empress finds out? How do you think it'll make her feel?"

However, Satoru's gaze was cold as he dismissed most of Suguru's tirade. There was a chill in his expression that made his longtime friend inwardly questioned who the man before him was.

"I'm asking you. Have you done it or not, Suguru?"

"You're going to put a curse on a whole village, Satoru."

"I told Zen'in Naoya the moment I got Y/N, that it would mark the beginning of his downfall. I'm making good on that promise."

Suguru pressed his eyes shut to calm his fury. Morally, what Satoru did was wrong, but politically, this was the art of war. Suguru purely opposed to this out of consideration for you.

Few understood Satoru's actions as well as Suguru did. He might understand, others like you and Shoko wouldn't.

"Just remember, when the Empress catches wind of this, she's going to resent you," Suguru warned. "No matter what your reasoning might be."

Satoru's upper lip curled upwards, his eyes bereft of light, narrowing with indifference.

"Unless you never tell her, that is of no relevance."

Love... has he ever loved you all this time?

Naoya had never been confronted with that question or pondered it, simply because he never considered love existed within the context of something as grand as monarchy.

You were chosen because you were well-bred and well-versed in the arts of nobility. You were indeed the epitome of an ideal empress, a fact evident throughout your tenure.

But...

"Naoya!" you yelled at him and caught his hand. "You're a fool! Why did you keep doing that!?"

It was a long-buried memory, when you were still in your teens, around the time you were just made the crown princess. His hands, bruised and bloodied, and you tended to them.

"I'm not weak, you know," he sullenly barked. "I have to train to be stronger."

"You definitely have to train, yes... but you have to take breaks!" you retorted angrily.

"Why do you care so much anyway?" he snapped back. "It's not like your hands that are injured."

And that moment, you were suddenly almost in tears. Naoya never understood why.

"Don't cry." But his instincts told him to make you not cry. "Don't cry. I'm fine, see?"

. . .

Zen'in Naoya jerked awake from his slumber, realizing he had forgotten what his dream was, that it was still the late afternoon, and he was still in his study.

All he felt was that nostalgic feeling, and it intensified when he glanced up... only to see his coronation portrait on the wall.

It was almost as if you were still here. You were incredibly stunning, he had to admit that. Why hadn’t he realized until just recently?

The way your crimson dress flowed out, and that thin, serene smile on your face... you were a picture-perfect empress, and that was not an exaggeration. No one could measure up to you—

"Your Majesty~!"

Especially not Hanabi.

"Your Majesty, the princess has started holding her head up!" Hanabi, now no longer dressed in rags but rather in one of your dresses, excitedly remarking, "Soon, she will start to—"

Naoya's gaze fell on her dress. He recognized it instantly. That specific deep, vibrant shade of red with serpent-like waistband. It was one of his gifts to you for your birthday. "Why are you wearing that?"

"Huh?" she seems perplexed. "Oh this... I thought it looks pretty..."

But to her surprise, he suddenly flared with fury. "That isn't yours, you dullard," he spat out.

Her expression sank in heartbreak as he continued with his venomous speech. "Know your place." His words cut like a blade. "And I keep telling you, a princess is of no use to the throne!"

Hanabi fought to hold back the tears, because not only had he insulted her, worse still, he showed no interest in their daughter. "She is still of your blood, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice trembling.

"I told you, I only want a heir." His sneer caused her eyes to widen in shock. "Other than that, I won't care."

"Your Majesty, please—" Hanabi was desperate for him to acknowledge their daughter, when she caught sight of your ethereal face on the wall.

He still hasn't taken it down. It made her eyes twitch, and her own anger to rise.

"The former empress..." she stared at your picture resentfully. "You still have her here. We never even have our portraits painted..."

Naoya's icy gaze leveled at her without a hint of sympathy, despite the woman standing before him being the mother of his child.

"Why do you look at me like that?" Hanabi asked, tears spilling from her eyes. "You used to care for me when you thought I would bear you a son. Even if it's a daughter, she deserves love too, doesn't she?"

In the last five years, she had come to know that the emperor wasn't always this manic person. He used to be gentler, or at least not as vindictive.

And she never truly wanted you to be cast away like that. She looked up to you, admired you from up close, and meant it when she said she would carry your legacy as best as she could.

"Are you dumb?" Naoya barked. "I told you to know your place!"

...yet why? Why are people in this palace so harsh to her?

“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi. Beware, the emperor is fickle…”

Your unkind eyes, Naoya's disdainful stares even after she gave birth to his child... She didn't even care about becoming the empress anymore. She just wanted a happy life!

"If it was the former empress' child... even if it was a princess..." Hanabi turned to him with determination even amidst her pitiful tears. "You wouldn't cast her aside just like you do now with my daughter, would you, Your Majesty?"

Naoya's gaze, devoid of emotion and filled with blatant disinterest more than anything, shot through her, hurting her more than if it was filled with fury instead.

The lack of warmth in his stare made her feel like being looked through rather than being seen. As if she is that insignificant.

"Leave," he ordered coldly next, turning his back on her.

And there is her answer.

Hanabi had been your maid for five long years. She knew who you were, what you stood for, and your whole demeanor. Yet, despite her best efforts, she could never emulate you in the same way, could she?

. . .

"My lady... don't you know that the former empress is with child?"

Once again, Hanabi felt the sting of ice when her lady-in-waiting delivered the news.

"Empress... Y/N?" she whispered. "How...?"

You were stripped of your titles here, and yet you still remained a queen somewhere else. Hanabi might have won Naoya's favor, but now she was losing it while you had another emperor's affection.

Not much had changed about you. You still occupied the highest seat a woman could possibly attain. Whereas she...

"But she is barren!" she turned to her confidant then, almost in disbelief.

"Evidently not. Emperor Gojo has proven that."

How nice. A part of Hanabi wanted to congratulate you because she knew of your sufferings—how much you longed to hold a baby from your womb in your arms.

How unfair... But another part of her couldn't help but despise you. Because even in your absence, she still had to live in your shadow. Because you, who had lost everything, regained it all so easily.

"And my lady... Emperor Gojo is going to throw a banquet for this occasion next month. You are expected to attend it."

"Sweetheart, you asleep?"

One night, several weeks later, just as you were about to drift off to sleep, you felt the sheets shift as Satoru slipped into bed beside you.

Though you didn't turn to face him, you felt his warm hands wrap around your waist from behind.

"Satoru... you're back," you murmured sleepily.

"Mm-hmm," he whispered, pulling you closer to his chest and burying his face in your hair, taking in your scent. "Shoko told me you've been in your bedchamber since breakfast. Are you okay?"

"I get queasy if I walk too much, so I've been lying down all day... But don't worry, the physician said it's normal in early stages of pregnancy."

His grip on you tightened, as he caressed your belly. "Hmm, naughty baby. I'm sorry I wasn't here..."

"Where were you?"

For days now, he had been away, and you hadn't really questioned him. You had your guesses though—

"I was overseeing the construction of a new pagoda," he said softly, kissing your neck. "For you, actually."

That was so unexpected that it made you open your eyes fully. "What— for me?" Building pagoda was definitely not a small affair. Usually it was for religious purposes.

"It's a gift to the heavens for blessing me with you and our baby. It's expected to be completed before your celebration banquet."

The tower would be the testament of his love for you and your unborn child. Despite yourself, your heart swelled with overwhelming warmth.

"You're so silly... why do you spend the tax funds for that?" you brushed off the faint heat in your face, not daring to look at him still.

"Whatever I wouldn't do for you?" he cheekily retorted, chuckling.

You had never felt this cherished before, and this time you were certain—you were more than ready to fall in love with this man.

But he... is planning to use you, isn't he?

"Satoru." You shuffled to turn and face him, causing him to crack his lidded eyes open. You gazed at him, placing both of your hands on his face, caressing his face softly.

You're so kind to me. I appreciate you for that. You wanted to tell him various things, but the darkness in your heart ever since overhearing his exchange with Suguru made it hard for you to do so.

"Mm? What is it?" he drawled with a small smile, leaning into your touch.

“You... love me, don't you?”

His bright eyes found yours then, sharp and steady. An impossibly fond smile graced his lips, as if finding what you said the most natural thing there was.

“Throughout heaven and earth,” he proclaimed, his voice steady to match his eyes. “Yes, my queen.”

...then you would trust him, if only just for this moment. The genuine sincerity in his eyes, the raw authenticity in his words... it all felt too real.

And so, even when you were well-aware of the bitter possibility of truth, you leaned in and kissed him, giving yourself to his touch as his hand slipped inside you.

And soon, came the day of the lavish banquet solely held to celebrate your pregnancy.

You were seated on your throne, dressed in a stunning aquamarine gown. The skirt of the dress was full and flowing, spilling onto the floor in a waterfall of shimmering fabric. Upon your head perched your crown of diamonds, glinting beneath the light, and your ceremonial veil to make you look as queenly as you could possibly be.

Everyone would agree that you were a sight to behold, and that you were worthy of every praise possible.

"Many congratulations to you, Your Majesty."

"This is a splendid news! A royal baby!"

"To think that the emperor has settled down... sniff, how long have we been waiting for this...? We almost gave up."

You almost giggled at the way Archbishop Yaga wiped his tears with a handkerchief as he presented you with his gift.

Despite your initial reservations, you enjoyed the festivities more than you expected. You had opposed the idea at first, finding it quite unnecessary, but Satoru had pouted for three long days until you eventually relented to appease him.

Speaking of him, he was equally dressed to impress, looking every bit as an emperor he was in an exquisite aquamarine military uniform and robes. Despite engaging in conversation with Earl Nanami, he kept a watchful eye on you, stealing glances in your direction to ensure you were well.

You nodded at him, and he threw you a wink. You smiled.

Everything was truly going well... until the herald announced:

"Prince Megumi and Royal Consort Hanabi from Eastern Empire!"

There was suddenly a hush over the crowd as the two made their entrance. You stilled, looking at the figure responsible for your checkered life—

Hanabi was starkly different since the last you saw her at the courthouse during your divorce. Her dress was now a vibrant shade of burgundy red, reminiscent of a gown you once wore. Gone was her air of humility, replaced by a display of extravagance befitting a noblewoman.

She is no longer your maid, but Naoya's consort. There was no trace of the woman who once served you. You were actually impressed, as she could actually shape herself into the image of a royal consort.

"Empress." However, your attention quickly shifted to Naoya's nephew, and once also your ward, Megumi, as he bowed before you respectfully. "Congratulations."

A fond smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you regarded the young prince who had once been a very shy individual. It reminded you of the days spent with him just to get him out of his shell.

"Thank you, Megumi."

"Diamonds suit you far better than golds do. I wish only for the best for you, Your Majesty."

It warmed your heart, really. Using that reference to your gold crown from your time in the Eastern Empire, you could see how much Megumi truly understood your position and bore no resentment towards you.

Could the same be said for Naoya though?

Right after you received his gift—an ornate box that seemed oddly familiar to you—Hanabi suddenly blurted out:

"So, fate has smiled upon you. Congratulations Empress Y/N." She kept that soft, meaningful smile on her face as she offered her felicitations.

Ever since her arrival was announced, something about her demeanor had bothered you. There was a subtle emptiness that seemed to linger in her gaze.

"Thank you," you responded, and that was when you noticed it. There was never any celebration for the birth of her daughter and Naoya, only a passing announcement.

And so, you added. "Congratulations on the birth of the princess too."

You could have sworn her expression fell for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure and bowed her head to you.

For a while, you lost sight of her in the crowd, feeling quite comfortable in your dais. Soon after, Satoru returned to your side, and the herald announced:

"Attention! His Majesty the Emperor's gift for Her Majesty the Empress!"

You looked at Satoru questioningly, and he gave you a dashing smirk before turning to the crowd.

"Thank you, all of you, for joining us to celebrate this joyous occasion." The way he carried himself and the sheer confidence he exuded was mesmerizing, you couldn't deny how it made you swoon. "I've been infamous for many things, and I'm sure the tales have spread far and wide. So please, allow me one more gesture with you as the witnesses."

The crowd giggled at his words, and you finally spotted Hanabi among them, quietly assessing the scene.

Your husband turned to you, a soft smile on his face.

"This is for you my empress— my lovely queen. Words can't describe how elated I am to know that now you bear our child." He took your hand and pressed a kiss on it. "And it's only fitting that I praise you along with the skies and the stars."

A footman arrived and presented a pearly box. Satoru opened it, revealing a necklace inside. The centerpiece was a large, flawless diamond surrounded by smaller, perfectly cut stones of the same kind. No matter how you saw it, it was truly a work of art, meant to captivate and dazzle anyone who laid eyes on it.

You let out a gasp. "This..."

Satoru grinned, picking up the jewelry and preparing to place it on you. "Nothing much. Just a little trinket for you."

"This is not just a 'little trinket'!"

Your banter elicited another round of snickers from the audience as Satoru fastened the necklace around your neck. The moment he did, the crowd erupted into applause.

"Actually, my real gift is the new pagoda in the royal gardens, built in honor of the Empress," Satoru stated effortlessly, grinning unabashedly. "Feel free to stop by later, everyone."

To the ton, for him to gift you with something so sacred was the height of extravagance. Some of them wondered how you had managed to turn the elusive emperor into someone so devoted to you.

And a few... might be harboring ill will against you for it.

. . .

Later that night, you were sorting through the gifts you had received throughout the day.

"I don't understand, why would you give an expecting woman this?" Shoko picked apart a manuscript that was the gift from Archbishop Yaga. "Who would read this?"

"I wouldn't, but I'm sure Duke Geto would," you replied, and soon the two of you were giggling together.

From jewelry to ornaments, you were pleased with all the gifts presented by the guests from day one. While most were given out of formality, it was heartwarming to imagine your baby seeing all these someday.

Your attention soon turned to the box Megumi handed you earlier—Naoya's gift.

You were intrigued, because what could your spiteful ex-husband could possibly give you? And you immediately reached over to open the lid to find...

"What's that?" Shoko asked as your eyes widened in slight surprise.

Inside the box was an intricate gold and ruby necklace. One you knew well. The very one you wore during your coronation as the Empress of the Eastern Empire.

Years ago, Naoya himself had chosen this piece for you, and now he was gifting it to you, again?

“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”

Reliving years of your marriage with him wasn't easy. You two were childhood sweethearts, and had been happy in the beginning. You couldn't pinpoint when things began to fall apart, but suddenly Naoya turned into such a person you didn't recognize altogether.

Seeing this relic made you nostalgic, and before you realized it, you touched it, trying to get a better look—

"Ah—!"

Suddenly, a sharp, unexpected pain shot through your abdomen. You instantly dropped the jewelry, letting it crash to the ground, and clutched your lower belly.

"Empress! What happened?!" Shoko rushed to your side in an instant, holding you up, and you whimpered.

"It hurts—!" Your breath hitched, as a seemingly invisible knife gutted you from inside. The intensity of the pain was overwhelming, leaving you gasping for breath. "Shoko, please—"

And before you could even scream or think, the pain blindsided you and your vision titled, before blacking out completely.

First came the warmth, then a reassuring squeeze on your hand. As your consciousness returned, you felt groggy, with your surroundings sharpening into focus.

The first thing that became your main focus the moment your eyes fluttered open was Satoru's face, a mixture of fright and relief etched across his features.

"You're awake..." He breathlessly muttered, sitting on your bedside, interlacing his fingers with yours. "How do you feel?"

"Sa...toru..." your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, and as soon as he heard you speak, he exhaled sharply, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"Heavens, I—" he let out a long sigh, his breath hot against your neck. "I'm so glad... you are..."

"What h-happened to me...?" you were feeling feverish and a dull throb was pounding at the back of your head, before the shock of it all dawned on you. "B-baby...! Our—!"

"Baby is okay too, don't worry," Satoru assured, pulling away from you to gently touch your cheek and squeeze your hand. "Both of you are fine for now..."

The horror that you might lose your baby shook you to the very core. Your vision blurred with the threatening onset of tears.

"Wh-at happened to me, Satoru...?" you asked again as he wiped your first falling tears, your heartbeat sounding so loud in your ears. "I-I was just..."

His expression took on a sudden shift, as if a dark cloud had passed over his face.

"You came into contact with a cursed object," he stated, his eyes hard as he locked onto yours. "You were cursed, Y/N."

"What...?" You were rendered speechless, feeling your body starting to shake. Cursed object? Your past coronation necklace?

Naoya was trying to curse you?

"It's okay, I'm here now, yeah?" Satoru's voice broke through your spiraling thoughts, grounding you in the present. "Look at me. Hey, look at me." he repeated, his deep blue eyes locking onto yours with intensity.

“I’m here. I’m here with you. Nothing—absolutely nothing—will touch you so long as I’m here.”

But in that moment, your mind was so overwhelmed with fear for yourself and your unborn baby that you couldn't fully grasp the magnitude of the mess unfolding before you, and you just cried in his arms.

Feeling your feeble fingers fisting his robes and your inconsolable tears staining his collar, Satoru gritted his teeth.

“This won't happen again,” he whispered into your hair, feeling his rage simmering as he felt the tremors of your sobs against his chest. “I swear, I won't let anything like this happen again.”

To Satoru, that was more than enough to justify all his subsequent actions. Putting a curse on his empress essentially amounted to an act of beginning a war.

And it also meant he no longer had to operate behind the scenes.

“Keep them in Clock Tower. No contact. Only food and water at designated times.”

Satoru's icy gaze on the captain of royal guard compelled him to hastily comply with the order, before his eyes landing on the map of the entire continent.

In response to the incident that befell you, he issued orders for open hostility along the eastern and western borders. Soon after, he would formally declare his intention to go to war.

So close. He was so close to achieving his end goal.

. . .

"Satoru!"

Several days later, Suguru burst into his study, visibly outraged. He clenched his fists, looking as if he was about to throttle him altogether.

"You—" he heaved a harsh breath. "You have gone too far!"

"What are you talking about, Suguru?"

"Is cursing the entire winery village not enough for you?" This was the first time Suguru had been this furious with him. "Did you really have to massacre the neighboring district as well?!"

"They have placed a curse on my empress." It was so easy for him to say it. "Anyone who dares to harm her shall die."

"You can direct it at Zen'in Naoya! Not the innocent civilians!"

Satoru remained silent, neither shaken nor enraged, and he had finally had enough.

“Are you even sure it’s because the empress is cursed?" Suguru challenged. In his view, this farce had been going on too long.

“No, Satoru. You are just using her. For so long, you have wanted to bring bloodshed to Western Empire. You were almost there when Empress Y/N proposed that deal to marry you.”

You were informed, days later.

“His Majesty has placed the prince and royal consort of the Eastern Empire under strict watch in Clock Tower.”

Clock Tower was essentially the prison where they kept war criminals. Learning that Satoru had confined both Megumi and Hanabi there left you aghast.

After some days of bedrest and getting better, you realized that the entire situation still didn't make sense to you. As hateful as Naoya was, harming you would do him more harm than good. Eastern and Western Empires stood evenly matched in military power, and hence, a conflict between them would bring devastation to both sides.

And moreover, you knew for sure was that Megumi was definitely not the one responsible for this. He was just a boy!

You had to let him out somehow. You had to talk to Satoru about this.

Or at least that was what you thought when you came close to his study.

“Are you even sure it's because the empress is cursed? No, Satoru. You are just using her. For so long, you have wanted to bring bloodshed to Western Empire. You were almost there when Empress Y/N proposed that deal to marry you.”

You stopped on your tracks—stunned into place, to be exact.

“And you’ve struck gold when she did because her influence will provide you with greater advantage.” Suguru scoffed then, lightly shaking his head with a sneer. “Love? How laughable. All these years, you are planning your warpath, how could you claim you love her when you're trying to ravage her homeland without even considering the impact it would have on her?”

It felt like whiplash. Geto Suguru's voice had your feet rooted to the spot, causing all your doubts to resurface and sizzle in an instant. The very question you had tried to avoid, it was suddenly shoved in your face.

What... will Satoru say? Your heart thumped so loud in your ears it made you almost stagger. He couldn't possibly. He simply couldn't. All his actions... they reflected his affection for you and you believed it because you felt it yourself too.

But Satoru's next response was—

“Even when she is derided as the devil, I will bring an end to the Zen’in line in this lifetime.”

And a part of your heart withers then.

The tips of your fingers trembled, finally taking in everything that you had tried to ignore for the past few weeks. It all caught up to you in one overwhelming rush.

Suddenly, it felt as if something inside your chest was torn out and held up for you to see.

"I'm telling you, that day will come sooner than you think, Satoru." Suguru's voice broke through, his frustration palpable. His words snapped you out of your reverie, and you took a step back, retreating to the safety of your study.

The first time you felt utter hollowness wrecking you was when you had suspected that Naoya might have taken Hanabi to his bed. The feelings overwhelming you now were eerily similar to how you felt back then.

Only in this case…

You had used him first, and if he used you in return... you couldn't fault him.

But isn't it still a bitter truth, even when a mutual transaction is very well within his rights, to know that what you believe as love may apparently not really be the case?

Love... of course, he loves you.

Of that, he was certain.

But at the same time… he had his ambitions.

Destroying the Eastern Empire. Was it so wrong that he wanted it? Didn't you want this as well? After all, Naoya had spurned you for a lowly servant and made your life hell, didn’t he?

Satoru strolled through the halls and made his way to your study, where the sight of you, so pretty and regal in your seat, greeted him.

His beautiful, graceful wife and empress of his nation. For so long, he had desired you, and now here you were, perched within his walls. His heart couldn't be more full— his life is complete already.

"Sweetheart, hey... how are you feeling today?" an adoring grin was visible on his face as he approached you. "Does the baby give you trouble today?"

You didn't answer though, and didn't look at him either. It was quite strange, Satoru thought.

"What's wrong? Is there something—" And when you finally turned to him, the look in your eyes was so eerily cold it almost gave him a chill.

"Release Megumi from your dungeon," you told him with a strained tone. "And return him to his home empire."

The smile on Satoru's face vanished that instant.

"I can't do that."

You rose from your seat, facing him. "He is just a child."

Satoru regarded you with a stern look. “That child you speak about is a prince of the Eastern Empire. He has committed a great crime against you.”

“Naoya didn’t do it.” Your steely gaze was unflinching. “He might be senseless, but he isn’t insane enough to deliberately go into a war he might possibly lose.”

Satoru's eyes darkened at your words, as you stood before him with determination. The way you were so adamant somehow took him aback. “How... could you defend him? He has wronged you!”

It was one question you had expected, and you had the answer ready.

“Even if he has, I could never wish doom upon my own homeland, Satoru. I’ve lived most of my life there, I did a great deal of things there— even if you harbor some sort of misguided contempt or just bloodthirsty enough to lay ruin to Eastern Empire, I refuse to be the puppet for your schemes!”

There it was. You had said it. Everything would crumble once again just like your previous marriage.

Satoru was staring at you in slight disbelief, his eyes gleamed with something that you couldn't really pinpoint. Anger? Disappointment?

“Your life was in danger, as was our unborn child’s. Don’t you care about that—!” he actually had to stop to catch his breath. “Don’t you care that our child nearly didn't make it?”

“And? You must have thought it was the perfect grounds for declaring a war?” but you didn’t relent and questioned him with a scoff. “And afterwards, you would try to use me to gain defectors from Eastern Empire, is that it?”

You saw the flash of surprise in your now-husband's eyes right when you recited his words, but you weren't about to hold back any longer now.

“Now you’re using my safety to justify your actions,” you hissed, feeling like suddenly you understood what all of this was. “You’re quite cunning, Satoru. I’ve heard everything—you will do anything to bring an end to the Zen'in lineage! You won’t even consider the repercussions of my reputation being tarnished across the lands!”

“Is that even important now?” Satoru gritted his teeth to suppress his irritation. “You have been cursed. Do you honestly think I would let them get away with cursing my empress? How could I, who seek to protect you, be more vicious than whoever in Eastern Empire who cursed you with that necklace?”

“You’re doing this for your personal gratification!” you exclaimed. “It is never about me. You’re just a warmonger!”

The moment those words left your lips, Satoru stilled. His gaze on you faltered, and you could’ve sworn hurt flashed in his face.

“Just how low… is your opinion of me?” he asked, his tone dropping, eyes devoid of emotion. “You jump into conclusions only after overhearing something in a passing and yet you know for sure Naoya wouldn’t harm you—” he clenched his jaw.

“You… really loved him, didn’t you?” he asked with a sardonic smile. “I know it already. You won’t ever be able to do the same for me. You can’t even trust me.”

You were rendered speechless. Despite your doubts of him, hearing this still felt like a slap in your face.

Won’t be able to do the same for him? No. That’s not true. You are—

Satoru let out a defeated laugh and ran his hand through his hair, leaving you uncertain whether he was amused or heartbroken by your lack of response.

“It’s funny, how I have loved you for so long... but apparently the woman I believed to have even a semblance of affection for me doesn’t even exist.”

It felt like that one part of you that was capable of feeling love had been stabbed once again.

To say this out loud hurt you deeply, unbeknownst to him. You didn’t mean this at all, still it was what came out of you, out of spite—

“In the end, we’re just using each other. That’s all we amount to.”

Satoru bitterly snorted, finding your accusation so unfair to him.

“How cruel is it that I’m the only one who has to prove this love to you? What about you? You’re terribly, horribly selfish!”

You stayed silent, looking away, caught between the scorching knives that seemed to twist your heart and conflicting emotions in it, uncertain of what to believe anymore. And you didn't really know what heartbreak was like before—

“It has been really exhausting, and I don’t want to bother anymore.”

When his gaze next met yours, dark and piercing, you realized he was no longer the same man who once promised you love and devotion.

“You're free to believe whatever truth you wish. But remember, even if you are my wife and the empress of this nation, should you commit any transgressions… I won’t hesitate to accuse you of treason, Empress.”

You have committed treason.

Satoru had conducted investigation of the sorts just to prove his point. And yet days later, no direct evidence pointing towards Megumi or Hanabi were found in that cursed necklace.

Punishment for treason is imminent death. You were well-aware of that more than anyone, but your consciousness wouldn't allow it if Megumi had to be hanged due to Satoru's antagonism.

"Your Majesty, your kindness knows no bounds," Megumi said, dropping to one knee before you and lowering his head in the throne room. Satoru had chosen not to grace any of you with his presence, leaving you alone to bid farewell to both Megumi and Hanabi.

Since then, you hadn't spoken with him, nor had he visited your chambers. It was as if he considered you nonexistent at all.

And it is really only a matter of time before he finds out.

But at the very least, you were right. It was never Megumi. That boy was fond of you, he could never. So, you shifted your gaze on the woman next to him.

"Royal Consort Hanabi. A word."

It was the cue for everyone else to exit the throne room. Now, you were faced with this woman once again, and yet one thing remained the same— you were still towering over her.

"Why did you do it?" Your calm gaze betrayed a quiet anger that was unmistakably clear. All because of this woman. It was beyond you, how despite having left your past life behind, she had somehow managed to taint your new one as well.

Hanabi looked away, a hint of shame coloring her features. "Your Majesty knows, so why do you spare me?" she asked quietly.

"How preposterous of you to think that I have spared you," you scoffed. "All this time, have you learned nothing at all from standing by Naoya's side?"

She flinched, visibly making herself smaller at your unforgiving tone, still, she dared herself to meet your eyes.

"Can I ask... why you never consider it as Emperor Naoya's doing?" she seemed more confused more than anything, even as her lips wobbled. "The two of you... you don't really hate each other, so why...?"

You didn't want to dwell on why Naoya had chosen that specific piece of jewelry to return to you. If anything, you'd consider it his final parting gift and be done with it.

But the naivety of this woman was astounding. Someone like her wouldn't last long in your seat. You let out a sigh, torn between feeling sorry for her or not.

"You have much to learn about court affairs, Hanabi. And do not think this is an act of mercy. Sending you back to Naoya is a punishment in itself—you know that by now."

Hanabi trembled where she stood, her breaths were shallow, and her hands shook slightly as she struggled to maintain composure in your presence.

Realizing it was futile to continue the conversation, you decided to conclude it.

"Know that I will never forgive you for what you have done to me." Your sharp eyes squared on her, the cold ire in your tone making her shudder.

In all the years Hanabi had known you, you had never appeared more fearsome than you did now, adorned in silks of deep blue hues, with that crown of diamonds gleaming in your head.

Then, as if sealing her fate, you delivered these parting words:

"You've always coveted what I have, and sooner or later, that will be your downfall."

The palace felt suffocating for you. After sending Hanabi away, you took a walk in the gardens, followed closely by your ladies-in-waiting.

Good heavens, what have you done? You definitely didn't regret saving Megumi, but no matter how, you had committed a great crime against your own empire. A sentence would loom over your head!

And what about your baby? Would Satoru execute you while you still had his child inside you?

The very thought made your vision tilt, and you had to lean on the wall for support. Your ladies-in-waiting were immediately clamoring against each other.

"Leave," you commanded, trying to catch your breath while doing so. "I'll… take some time to rest here."

It took you a moment to realize you had reached the pagoda that Satoru had commissioned for you. This was your first time visiting it. The structure was magnificent, towering in height and adorned with exquisite decorations, leaving you in awe.

"It's a gift to the heavens for blessing me with you and our baby."

You wanted to cry. His voice, soft and smooth, conveyed those words so easily to you. He really loved you, didn't he? What made you so unsure about that undeniable fact?

And now you had broken his heart.

Your hand reached for your belly. Though hidden by your dress, you could distinctly feel that it had become firmer these days, holding the product of your love with Satoru.

"I'm sorry, baby..." you whispered, heartbroken. "I didn't mean to drag you into this too..."

You felt nauseous, your breaths come in short pants, and you felt a headache coming. It didn't really register to you that you had crashed into the candle table, before you collected yourself and ventured deeper inside.

You just wanted a sense of peace and quiet. You would think more later, and right now, the darkness inside felt like a comforting lull for you to rest.

. . .

Or at least that was what you had intended, until you looked back and saw the swirling inferno creeping through the halls.

It didn't take long for Satoru to figure out you had really orchestrated Megumi's release.

More than his wounded pride, it was the searing pain of realizing that you truly believed he was only using you for his own benefit. It felt like an insult to everything he had done for you.

Why couldn't you see that? Just how hard is it for you to understand?

And now that it had come to this... what did you expect from him? Should he really make good on his word and punish you? It tore his heart to even consider it.

However, what was worse was… did you think he was really capable of that too?

Amidst his heartache, suddenly he heard loud commotion from outside his study, yells and cries of help— and it roused him from his thoughts that he came out of his study, only to come right into a familiar face.

"Anyone! Anyone at all!" one of your maids was running, sobbing and hysterical. "Her Majesty! Please help Her Majesty!"

"What is all of this ruckus?" Satoru demanded, catching the maid by the hand, as she stuttered in tears.

And then, everything came crashing down with the next words.

"The Empress— is trapped inside the burning tower!"

🏷️ taglist

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[thinkinonsense]

Bewitched

˖⋆࿐໋ james logan howlett ✦ bridgerton au series

bewitched masterlist

cw: 1800s mentality on marriage and women, pinning, bickering, enemies to lovers

pairing: viscount!logan howlett x fem!reader

a/n: as of right now, i'm not sure how long this series will be but i'm so excited for it! i tried to make the reader as universal as possible but i did have to give her some sort of last name, so if that isn't your thing, you can always change it to fit. after the set up, i'll probably drop the last name.

bridgerton lore: ton (high society), debuting (when you begin dating/looking for a partner), spinster (an unmarried woman)

main masterlist

in early june, everyone returned back to england for this season and whispers of a french woman joining the ton spread around. one morning at breakfast, marie howlett was reading one of the gossip columns aloud to her family when her eldest brother, james walked into join them at the table.

"it says she's staying with her aunt, lady worthington. she is four and twenty and the only child. her passions are literature and painting. apparently, the queen has one of her paintings in her home..."

"she sounds lovely. doesn't she, james?" their mother said, hoping her boy was listening.

"she's a spinster." he says, eating some of the fruit on the table. "that's not viscountess material."

"the queen seems to find her to be diamond material." marie jabs.

james has never fallen for one of the diamonds. sure, their beauty is prominent and sometimes they can hold an intellectual conversation but for the most part they are simply shoved forward so the queen can take credit for their marriage.

"i have more important priorities this season."

"well, this season you should prioritize finding a viscountess." their mother bit at him.

during this time every year his mother gives james the same speech over and over again. the marriage speech. ever since his father died during battle, james has been plagued with not only his grief but also the weight of replacing his father and eventually having to find a replacement for his mother as well. instead of focusing on marriage, james kept himself busy either working or traveling and keeping his family afloat.

"mama, i promise i will find a wife at some point." james sighs. "i just haven't met anyone that can handle being my viscountess."

"what about the red headed girl from last season? you seemed to fancy her quite a bit."

"she married lord summers this past spring."

"and the munroe girl?"

"she's interested in mister brooks."

all his mother does is sigh in response to the news. he takes this as the perfect chance to escape the interrogation.

luckily for james, there was always an excuse to avoid marriage. in the past he's gotten close to making that walk down the aisle but something always held him back. he's never believed much in love or marriage past it's convenience. sure, he believed it was the blueprint of life, to take a wife and start a family but his marriage is seen as a much bigger deal.

all the mamas in the ton were practically throwing their daughters in his direction. at balls, he's always forcing marie to dance with him because if not, he will be forced to socialize with these young unintellectual girls who only value him for his money and title. james didn't want to have to nurture these girls. he would take care of his wife but he wanted someone who was independent from him.

ever since his father died in the war, james has always been guarded of his feelings. especially, when it came to love. when he went with his mother to identify his father's body, james swore on that day that he would never let love destroy him like it did his mother.

"remember, marie is debuting tonight at the first ball of the season." his mother called after him. "don't be late."

"i wouldn't miss it." he smiles at his little sister before dashing out the door and back to his study.

˖⋆࿐໋

a rainbow of silks are spread across your bed as you try to figure out what to wear tonight. if your mother was here, she would know exactly what would look best on you. it's only been three months since her passing yet the ache in your chest grows stronger day by day.

"what are you thinking of wearing tonight?" your aunt asks, lingering in the doorway.

"i'm not sure yet." you sigh, picking at the pretty gowns. "i like the light blue one."

arguably, it was the prettiest in the pile. so simple, you hoped to blend in among the wash of colors in the room tonight. the boning of the corset poked the left side of your ribs a little but beauty is pain.

as you got ready, the nerves started to kick in. by now you should be on your second or third child and pregnant with the next. why was love taking so long to find you?

ever since you were a little girl, you were a hopeless romantic. dreaming of your first kiss and getting married to your knight in shining armor. back home, there was a cruel joke that you were the girl before the wife. you get just close enough before they end it. afraid that the curse would travel with you.

"don't worry." you aunt hums, brushing your hair. "the queen picked you as her diamond for a reason."

"i know, i know." you nod, avoiding your reflection in the mirror. "i just wish mother was here with me."

"i do too, dear."

"she should've seen me married."

a small tear rolls down your pink painted cheeks. it feels like you let her down by not taking a husband before her illness got worse.

men have it so easy. there's no pressure from society put on them. you can marry at fifty to a nineteen year old if you so please because you know that they will marry you out of fear and desperation.

"who says she can't?" your aunts smile reflected in the mirror. "she's still looking down on you, probably working on sending you a lord or a duke for a husband as we speak."

"amusing." you giggle.

"imagine a viscount or a prince!"

both of you laugh at the possibility. viscounts and princes were usually swept up quickly in high society. all of them probably have pregnant wives by now.

"don't get too ahead of yourself."

˖⋆࿐໋

the queens ball was unlike anything you had ever seen. beautiful gardens, bright lights, and people gathered everywhere. inside the ballroom, the chandelier lights almost blind you.

like a hawk, lady chamberlain spots you two. she is an older lady and a close family friend. you haven't seen her since you were a little girl, surprised that she was able to recognize you.

"lady worthington and miss bowery, lovely to see you here!" the woman smiled, wrapping her arms around both of you.

"hello, lady chamberlain." you smile, feeling slightly at ease seeing a familiar face here.

"you look marvelous, sweetie." she smiles, taking in your appearance. at least someone appreciated all the bells and whistles that went into your dress for this evening. "truly like a diamond."

"thank you." you curtsy. a warm rose color rises to the surface of your cheeks at her compliment.

"let's go find that viscount i've told your aunt about." she says.

suddenly, she's pulling you and your aunt over to meet everyone.

quite some time has passed and yet you've only met barton's and a few lords. from one eligible bachelor to the next, it was the same process. you introduce yourself, dance, ask a bit about each other, jump into talks of marriage and children. it was all a bit overwhelming to say the least.

there's no news on a prince yet but lady chamberlain was holding out for a viscount while your aunt held out for a duke. meanwhile, you just needed someone with charm and charisma to save you from these godawful men of the ton.

"i'm going to get a drink." you announce, one the music ends.

in one of the dim corners of the room there was a refreshment table where you poured a hefty amount of wine into your glass and down as much of it –in a very unlady like manner– as you could before another person could find you.

it wasn't long until someone behind you clears their voice loudly.

"i was unaware that they taught women to drink like soldiers in france..."

you spin around quickly to face the man in front of you. he is gorgeous and... huge. dawned in white puffy shirt and a tight black vest with detailed buttons. he towered over you intimidatingly with a small smirk creeping on his lips from shocked expression.

"i-i deeply apologize, my lord. it was just grape juice." you laugh nervously, avoiding his piercing stare.

"hm..." he hums, lifting his hand up and letting his thumb swiftly glide under your lip to catch the bit of liquid there. you watch in awe as he licks the bit of wine off his thumb with a soft groan. "they must make 'grape juice' different in france."

never in your whole life have you been left so speechless. a gentleman has never done more so than touch your hand, let alone act so scandalous. with a satisfied smirk, the man walks away to join a small group of young women. thank goodness that no one seemed to have noticed.

"miss bowery!" lady chamberlain called after you. "i want you to come meet the howletts."

swiftly, you get back to her as she approach a mother and daughter. both of them were stunningly and wore expensive looking gowns with luxurious jewels. lady chamberlains wide smile only made you grow more anxious.

"meet lady howlett and her daughter, the honorable, marie howlett." lady chamberlain introduced.

"lovely to meet you." you say, bowing gracefully before them.

"where is viscount james?" lady chamberlain asks.

"oh! he should be around here somewhere..." the woman looked behind the two of you until she flagged someone down. “there he is!”

the moment that you looked up at the viscount, you feared your heart might explode right then and there. silently pray to the gods above that he won't mention your previous encounter.

"miss bowery, this is my son, viscount james logan howlett." lady howlett announces proudly.

"what a pleasure to meet you, miss bowery." james smirked, trying to get a rise out of you.

"as is it for me, my lord." you curtsy politely, feeling hot under his gaze.

a cloud of lust fogs james mind at the words, my lord fell from your pretty, slightly berry colored lips. the lower his eyes drift from your face, the tighter his trousers get. every exquisite curve is highlighted by the way that the silk fell on your frame, reminding him of the goddesses he had only seen in the finest of paintings.

"might you wish to accompany me to a dance?" he asks, extending his hand to you.

you nod, offering him your gloved hand in return.

the two of you make your way to the dance floor with everyone else. the orchestra begins and you quickly fall in sync with each other.

"how are you enjoying england?" james asks.

"it's quite lovely." you lie.

"better than france?" he questioned with a small tilt of his head.

"no." you giggle softly. "nowhere on earth is better than home."

"i suppose i cannot argue with that."

"have you journed to france?"

"once. when i was younger, i went with my father. he loved france."

"that's why my mother left england. she fell in love with my father when she visited france."

"they must be true romantics."

"oh, most definitely." you smile.

carefully, logan spins you twice. never letting you stumble over your own two feet like most men would.

"i truly am sorry for earlier, my lord. that was completely unacceptable for a–"

"it's alright, sweetheart." the viscount cut you off with a chuckle. "your secret is safe with me."

james looks down to see your big round eyes sparkle up at him with great appreciation. there's a unique feeling blooming deep in his chest that he can't quite put his finger on.

"i heard from some mamas that you are seeking to wed this season." you say, looking elsewhere as the two of you pull apart.

"seeking is such a complex word." he sighs amusingly.

"i imagine it would be difficult to find a future viscountess."

"you have no idea."

all around you, you can see the women openly fawning over the viscount. some fan themselves while other clutch their jewels with either anger at you or lust for him. any of those women would duel to be in your shoes right now.

"do you have a desire to be viscountess?" his question made your heartbeat increase, pounding in your chest.

as a young girl, you watched your family struggle in order to survive so it would be a lie to say that you don't dream of having a title. you have a father back in france to take care of in his elderly age. but love was your main desire. you would marry a sweet common man as long as he loved you.

"i desire to be loved." you tell him.

the answer caught james off guard. the women of the ton had no issue telling him to his face that they want his tittle or money. none of those women actually cared about love.

"well, my darling, you are quite the fool to be seeking out something as pure as love in a place such as this." james says, pulling you so close that you can feel his heartbeat in his chest and his eyes darken.

"don't be so cock-sure, viscount howlett. i am no fool at all." you glare angrily up at him. "i wish you well on your journey to find such a bird-witted viscountess."

the song ends and you are quick to make an exit. hot on your heels, james follows you outside. perhaps you shouldn't have insulted the viscount to his face but you didn't quite care anymore. this night has been a bust and you aren't any closer to marriage then you were before walking in here.

"miss, bowery..." a man calls, capturing your attention. "would you accompany me to a dance?"

based on the man's appearance, he seems even more important that the viscount. he was definitely the opposite of james. this man wore light grey in places where james wore black. this man had a sweet smile where james had a scowl.

"her dance card is full." the voice behind you threatened.

the gentleman's face fell a little.

"actually, i have one last spot open on my dance card." you smile, showing him the tag tied to your right wrist which had exactly one spot open. "i would love to accompany you..."

"prince harrison." he grins.

you hum, offering your hand. the prince leans down and kissed your gloved fingers before sweeping you off to the dance floor again.

james fumed as he watched you walk away with the prince. lady howlett spots her son alone and walks over to him.

“please tell me that you did not scare off this seasons diamond, james.” lady howlett asked in a low whisper.

“i’m gonna call a carriage” he growls, annoyed.

“dear!”

his mother called after him but he couldn’t care to turn around and stay here any longer.

˖⋆࿐໋

on the carriage ride alone, james is stuck with the image of you. your beauty and the pain in your eyes when james called you a fool. oddly enough, james enjoyed the way you bit back at him. he just wishes that he hadn’t offended you.

apparently you must not be that hurt if you accepted a dance from harrison of all people. not because he wanted to court you but because harrison was barely considered a prince and was a poor excuse of a man. never having to lift a finger a day in his life. never knowing a single struggle. the prince was insufferable.

perhaps it was in james best interest to forget about the beautiful woman he met this evening. she is this seasons diamond after all, desired by too many. james wasn't known to chase the things he desired.

──★

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[ahgasegotarmy116]

It's Hard to Believe | Jungkook One Shot

Summary: Getting pregnant with your best friend's baby definetly wasn't a part of the plan... Pairing: f!Reader x Jungkook (fwb, f2l) Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: A tiny bit of explicit and suggestive language but nothing crazy a/n: This is something I started writing at like midnight and it's kinda shit but I thought I might as well post it since I haven't posted in a while (Like five days short of a month wtf?!?!? How has it been that long?!?!) (I just barely checked rn lmao my bad 🥲) p.s. I kinda wanna do a full on series on a concept like this but it'll be different and less fluffy but that won't be happening for a long ass time but yeah lol Requested by a lovely anon 💜

"How am I supposed to tell him?" I ask my friend Sam for the millionth time since I found out. "Y/n just tell him. You guys have been friends for how long?" she asks and it's like I'm having deja vu from both of our responses. "Like ten years" I mumble and pull my sweatshirt sleeves down over my hands in an effort to stop my nervous fiddling but it only makes it worse. 

"Right and you guys have been messing around with each other for over a year now, maybe even more...I don't wanna know" she says while holding her hand up in a way to assure me that she doesn't need the details. "Just tell him. If he's as great of a guy as you keep on telling me he is then I promise everything will be okay" she says and places a hand on my shoulder before she gets up off my couch. 

"Where are you going?" I ask while she shrugs on her jacket. "Didn't you say he's supposed to be here around five?" she asks and I nod my head, checking the clock and seeing that it's already 4:30. 

"Yeah...are you sure you don't wanna stay and say hi?" I ask and she glares at me. "Let me know what his response is to that bun in the oven and then we'll talk. I wanna figure out if he's an asshole or not before I decide to waste anytime on him" she says while lacing up her shoes. 

"Promise me you'll tell him tonight?" she asks and lifts up her hood, getting ready to shield herself from the pouring rain outside. I nod my head reluctantly, that being way more progress than I've made for the past few weeks since I found out. "I promise" I utter under my breath and she smiles, pulling me in for a bone crushing hug. 

"Text me if you need me" she says, worried for what might happen but hoping for the best. "I will...thanks" I whisper and she nods her head before walking out of my door and turning slightly and waving to offer me one last farewell.

I close the door after I see her get into her car and lean my back up against it, steadying myself for a second and taking deep breaths, trying to stop my racing heartbeat before pushing off of it and tidying up before Jungkook gets here to distract myself. 

Sam has been the only one I've been able to count on and honestly the only person I can trust since I haven't told anyone else. She was the one I called when I missed my period and she's the one who brought me a pregnancy test...and then when out and bought me ten more because I couldn't actually grasp the concept that I was pregnant...am pregnant.

Jungkook and I have always been careful and taken all the necessary steps to keep this from happening but I guess we got careless this time. 

Through out this whole arrangement we've made it very clear to each other that we're not sleeping with anyone else but neither of us are looking for any sort of commitment either so that's why this has gone on for so long. 

Like it or not though we're going to be committed to each other in one way or another no matter what because I'm keeping this baby. No matter what he says I'm keeping them. 

Jungkook is my best friend, the one person who has been there for me through everything. He's seen me at all of my highest highs and especially at my lowest lows and no matter what he's never made me feel shitty about it. I know he's not the kind of guy that'll turn on you because of something like this but I can't help but still feel terrified. 

This wasn't supposed to happen but even if this child wasn't made with love from his side...it was made with love from mine. 

I don't know how long it's been since I fell in love with him but I know I shouldn't have said yes to this whole fuck buddy ordeal. I just couldn't stand the thought of him being with someone else so when he offered up the idea I said yes.

I figured that if this was a way to prevent him from getting his heart broken by all those sorry excuses of girlfriends he's had in the past then I guess I'll be okay with breaking mine.

He's been acting different lately though. He's been a lot touchier, asking to come over more often, going out of his way to help me with things, offering to feed me all the time and all of it is making me feel like he already knows. 

Does he know? Have I started showing already? I haven't really noticed a difference in my body yet but he looks at me naked a lot more often than I pay attention to myself naked so I mean I guess he could've noticed right? 

Only one way to find out though...

A half an hour later I hear him take out his keys and unlock my door and soon I'm greeted with a smile that tugs at my heartstrings. 

"Hi baby" he says, using that pet name he's become very fond of since this whole ordeal started. The sound of it after finding out I'm pregnant with his baby has made me a little uncomfortable though since I haven't told him yet. 

Don't get me wrong I love it when he calls me that but I can't help but think that if this goes south that he won't ever call me that again. 

Maybe the hormones have started to scramble my brain already because those uncomfortable feelings are quickly thrown away when I take in the sight of him after he shrugs off his rain coat. A simple black baggy hoodie and jeans engulf his form and the comfy sight just makes me want to curl up in bed with him and forget about everything and everyone.

Just him and I, it's always been him and I. I just don't know if this little one is going to change things. 

I place a hand on my stomach for a second as a way to gain some strength from my itty bitty baby before finally working up the courage to greet him.

"Hi" I greet him softly, walking over to where he's stopped to take off his shoes and when he looks back up at me he smiles again and kisses me. I sigh into it, savoring it for just a little bit longer and when it finally breaks he looks down at me with concern now written all over his face. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, sensing that something's off right away from the just the small change in the way I kissed him. I hesitate for a second then simply hold out my hand for him to take and he does, following behind me as I lead him over to my couch. 

Getting this over with sooner rather than later is my best option right now so there's no reason to delay. 

He needs to know, he deserves to know.

We sit there in silence, longer than he would like us to since I can tell how tense his body has gotten in a matter of minutes. "Y/n you're scaring me" he whispers, not wanting to pressure me but relaying his feelings. 

I take a couple more deep breaths before finally starting. "I need you to listen to me and I need you to please not speak until I'm finished" I say while looking down at my lap, not being able to meet his eyes. 

He murmurs a soft 'okay' and waits for me to continue, taking one of my hands and placing it in his lap. He needs some form of physical contact to keep him grounded since he's not too sure what to expect and I let him, knowing I need some reassurance too. 

Even if I don't know what his reaction is gonna be, in this moment I need it more than ever.

"I guess there's really no right way to go about saying this because this wasn't supposed to happen so I'm just gonna come out and say it..." I start off and he squeezes my hand, encouraging me to keep going. 

"I missed my period...over a month ago...and I haven't had it since then" I say and finally look up at him where he has an unsure expression. It's not one that's mad or disappointed with what I've said thus far which is a good thing but more like he's trying hard to hold himself back so he can keep that promise. 

His hold on my hand hasn't loosened, in fact it's gotten even tighter and that gives me hope that we'll work this out so I take another deep breath before continuing. 

"I tried to kid myself into thinking that it was late but when another week passed by I got nervous. I asked Sam to get me a test and it came out positive. I didn't believe it and thought it was a false positive and so to ease my mind she went a bought ten more from a bunch of different brands and...all of them came out positive" I say and he still looks at me with that same expression, waiting for me to give him the okay to speak and so I do. 

"How long have you known?" are the first words out of his mouth and although they're not negative they aren't necessarily positive either. "About a month now" I say and he nods his head, taking another second or two to formulate what he's gonna say next. 

"I'll support you no matter what you decide" he says and I let out a breath I didn't even know I had been holding in. "I wanna keep it" I say and he nods his head and smiles softly at first and then as the seconds go by it gets wider and wider making my heart beat faster. 

"Am I allowed to get excited now?" he whispers and I can't help but chuckle as tears start to prickle my eyes and give him a nod. "You're excited?" I say, my whole being slowly overcome with emotion. 

"How could I not be?" he scoffs playfully but that answer has me confused. "But Jungkook we're not together. I mean we're not in a relationship, we're just friends" I explain and there's a playful glint in his eyes after I say that that's making me even more nervous.

"You wanna know what I thought you were gonna tell me?" he offers up, slightly changing topics but I look at him in a way to urge him to continue. "I thought you were gonna break up with me" he says and I smile, "Jungkook we're not together. How could I break up with you?" I chuckle in disbelief. 

"Correction, I thought you were gonna break up with me before I even got the chance to ask you to be my girlfriend" he says with a grin and my jaw drops, the dots all connecting as to why he's been acting so different lately. "You were gonna ask me to be your girlfriend?" I utter quietly as if we were in a crowed room and I had a secret for just the two of us.

"I had actually planned on asking you tonight" he explains, walking over to where he had placed his backpack on the floor, taking out a bouquet of slightly squished flowers. "Sorry they're all beat up. I forgot and rode my bike over here so I didn't really have any other option but to put them in there" he says almost as if he was nervous, rubbing the back of his neck and it's then that I notice how pink his ears have gotten. 

He is nervous

I take them from him and smile, waiting for him to say it but he simply stands there and admires me and I can't help but laugh. "What so funny? I told you what happened to them" he utters through pouty lips which only makes me laugh more. "No, no it's not the flowers it's just that...don't you have something to say?" I ask, calming down my chuckles and when he looks at me with the same confused expression I have to try my hardest to keep the laughter at bay. 

"Do you have something you would like to ask me Jungkook" I rephrase it and after a second his lips go from a pout to the shape of an 'O' as he's figured it out. "Oh um, yeah, right. Well I um" he starts off, rubbing the back of his neck again while stuttering and trying to find the words and after struggling for a second I decide to poke fun at him again. 

"Jungkook I am literally carrying your child and you're too afraid to ask me to be your girlfriend?" I laugh, giving him a slight reality check which he scoffs at before responding. 

"I was trying to remember what I had rehearsed to say to you but now that you're being a little brat I guess you'll never get to know all the nice things I was gonna say" he retorts, his voice suddenly taking on a darker tone that sends a shiver through my body and he smirks when he sees my reaction to it. 

He cups my face and rubs his thumb along my bottom lip, making them part and he leans in as if he was going to kiss me but stops just shy of my lips. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he whispers, nudging his nose against mine and making me smile. 

"I'll have to think about that" I play coy with him which he chuckles at. "You know if you weren't pregnant right now I would have thrown you over my lap for that smart mouth" he warns and I smile before leaning in and kissing him for just a second before pulling back. 

"Yes I'll be your girlfriend" I say and nudge my nose against his as well and before I can register it my back is on the couch and his lips are pressed against mine, the kiss not rushed but full of so many words that have yet to be said and he gives in, not being able to hold it in anymore.

"I love you" he says, pulling back and looking down at me to see my expression which is completely dumbfounded to say the least. "You what?" I ask and he chuckles, "Is it really that hard to believe?" he points out and I guess now that I think about it it really isn't.

"I guess we've both been in love with each other for a while now huh?" I smile and his eyes light up at my round about confession. "Say it" he says, and I can feel my cheeks heating up. I hadn't planned on actually saying those three words to him even though I've felt them for so long but I don't want to hold them back anymore. 

"I love you" I whisper and he smiles, "Say it again" he repeats, clearly not believing it just yet. "I love you Jungkook" I say and the little switch up with attaching his name to the end darkens his gaze. "I guess there's no chance in me getting you pregnant a second time right now huh?" he asks, sliding his hand up my thigh and I giggle. 

"No I think that's pretty much impossible but the odds are never zero" I say and he rolls his eyes. "I'm trying to tell you that I wanna hit it raw" he states the obvious while rolling his eyes. "I know I know...and the answer is yes Daddy" I tease, testing to see how that word affects him now that he knows.

He tongues his cheek at that making me bite my lip, knowing that's gonna be even more of a trigger word for him from now on. "Daddy huh? Well I guess that title is a little more fitting now isn't it?" 

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[lc-holy]

There's been some new info about season 6 and the new Special episodes to come, but I haven't seen anyone talking about it on tumblr.

So I'm taking the liberty of making a summary:

Season 6:

-Sébastien Thibaudeau (the show's writing director) has announced that writing for season 6 is complete. There will be several new writers this season.

-Thomas Astruc has shared an image showing him working on the storyboard for a season 6 episode.

-I'm just coming back to something that was said several months ago since some people don't seem to know: All the animation studios that worked on seasons 1 to 5 will no longer be animating the next seasons of Miraculous. The series is getting a visual upgrade. And ZAG has shared a preview of the new sets for the coming seasons.

-Now we know that the new animation studio to work on the next seasons of miraculous is DWARF. This French animation studio worked on the Miraculous movie.

Special episode:

-The new special "The end of Ladybug" (whose name is only provisional) will take place this year before season 6 airs. This will be the last time Miraculous will be animated in the style we've known since season 1. (No word yet on whether SAMG will continue to animate future special episodes.)

-The dubbing of this special has already been done in English.

(Remember: just because an episode has been dubbed doesn't mean it's ready for broadcast. The dubbing can be done while the animation of the episode is not yet finished).

Other specials:

-Thomas would like the next special episode to take place in Japan.

-Thomas said he had already written the Brazil special episode as well as the Bible for a spin-off. He has also written many other stories in the Miraculous universe, but for reasons unknown to him, nothing seems to be moving to adapt these stories for animation or comics. He asks fans who would like to see these projects come to reality to put pressure on ZAG. (politely, of course).

-Thomas retweeted a fan who created a petition so that the special Tibet episode could one day be made.

-He also explained one of the reasons why Miraculous could not be animated in the Ladybug PV style.

He asks fans who would like to watch Miraculous with this style of animation to petition ZAG, Mediawan or Toei.

I may do more posts like this when I have new information, if you're interested of course (I'll never share spoilers or leaks, don't worry).

[heavyhitterheaux]

Hello

See Me Through You Series

You had me at hello

Synopsis: The day that you met the love of your life and didn't realize it until almost a year later

Series Masterlist

Stepping onto the sidewalk as you had just left the building where your journalism class had just ended, your phone suddenly vibrated in your back pocket. It took you a minute to grab it, seeing as both of your hands were occupied at the moment. Doing a balancing act with your purse, backpack, keys and your binder that contained your notes, but was too big to fit in your backpack, you finally had a free hand.

Pulling it out of your back pocket, you saw it was your younger twin brother by three minutes Ja'Marr calling on facetime and took no hesitation to answer it. This was his fifth call to you today and knew that about four more would come your way and the worst part about it was that it wasn't even noon.

Not that you were upset about it. If your little brother called and needed you, he always became the priority and everything would be dropped at that very moment.

“What does your ugly ass want?” You asked him as his face came into view. He promptly rolled his eyes and sucked his teeth before saying anything. You could tell that he was in the gym and was probably waiting on you to get there since you had promised to work out with him.

“If I'm ugly, so are you because we're twins, stupid!”

“No, that's what mom and dad tell you but they actually found you in a dumpster and felt sorry for you and took you in.” You told him as you laughed and started to make your way back to your car to head to your apartment that was off campus.

It was only a few miles down the road which you were thankful for and the good part is that you could also drive home to see your parents on the weekends if you wanted to.

You were relieved when Ja'Marr decided to attend LSU with you because the two of you had never been apart in your entire lives. Deep down you knew that you would have eventually adjusted to him not being at the same college as you, but also glad that you didn't have to go that route.

“Y/N!”

“Just kidding! What do you need assistance with, little one?”

“Little one? I'm 6’1 and you are BARELY 5 feet on a good day. Try again.”

You were suddenly taken aback as you saw someone come into the frame behind him and did a double take once you recognized who it was.

Growing up in a sports filled household, college football as well as the NFL was not foreign to you. You watched both of them and knew players as well as their stats forwards and backwards. So to your surprise, you were actually seeing him in real time. You heard of the transfer happening, but it was different seeing him right in front of you.

So the rumors were true, he was really here.

Joe Burrow

Who used to play for Ohio State apparently was now playing for LSU.

“Ja'Marr, I will hang up. State your business or move on.”

“I thought you were supposed to meet me at the gym to work out AND bring my headphones that I know for a fact you stole.”

“YOU CAN'T PROVE IT!”

“Hmm, funny. I recall you asking me to use them last week and I haven't seen them since.”

“I threw them away.”

“WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DEMAND ON STRESSING ME OUT? And I have someone here I want you to meet.”

“Who?”

“Will you just hurry up and get here and stop arguing with me!? I can pick your ass up and throw you across the room.”

“Hmm, sounds like a threat. I'm calling mommy. Bye.”

“Uh hold on, WAIT! DON'T CALL HER!”

Click.

Once back in your apartment, you quickly changed into your pink and black Fabletics workout set with your matching HOKAS and went on the search not only for Ja'Marr's headphones, but also yours. Since he let you borrow his, you didn’t bother trying to find yours even though you know you should have.

The both of you worked out with each other several times a week and it was important seeing as he played football and you were on the gymnastics team with your best friend, Erin.

Putting your curly hair into a high bun since you didn’t have time to straighten it this morning, you grabbed your wallet, water bottle, and keys before making your way back down to your car and heading to the gym.

Walking inside, you spotted him along with Joe in the corner next to the weight rack and promptly came up behind him and attempted to pick him up as you saw Joe's face giving a small smirk because of the gesture. You admit that you didn't realize how tall Joe actually was and you noticed that he was taller than Ja'Marr when they stood next to one another.

“HEY! Oh, it's just you. Joe, my big little sister by three minutes and she will never let you forget it, Y/N and Y/N this is Joe. And you are never going to be able to pick me up.” He told you while patting the top of your head as you were now trying to pick up his left leg.

“Just you watch. It's going to happen one day when you least expect it. Anyway, Hi Joe, and Ja'Marr you should know better. I already know who you are.” You told him and he looked a little confused before greeting you.

“Hey, you do gymnastics right? I saw you compete over the summer.”

You smiled before nodding, taken aback that he knew who you were also. Not a lot of attention was put on gymnastics unless it was during the Olympics. Your goal was to go to Tokyo in 2020.

“Didn't take you for a gymnastics type of guy.” You replied while attempting to fix your hair that had now fallen out of the bun you put it in. You blamed it on not being tight enough the first time.

“It's entertaining to watch.”

“Hmm, because of the outfits?” You asked as you were trying to feel him out and you could've swore you heard Ja'Marr mutter something under his breath.

“No, I just think it's insane how you can do all those different types of exercises and routines just like it's nothing. You can literally visualize where you're going to land before it happens.”

“It's the same with football when you think about it. You're a quarterback so I can imagine that before you decide where you're going to throw and who you're going to throw to what the end result will be.”

“Something like that.”

“Stop interrogating the man! Sports journalism is her major and she thinks she's smart. So she of course knows all of the players and their stats. I’m convinced she’s going to start memorizing playbooks and try to get on the field with us.” Ja'Marr said as he turned to Joe and you pinched his arm resulting in a yelp as Joe let out a small laugh.

“I'm smarter than your dumbass. That's for sure and are we going to work out or stand here all day? Besides I wasn't interrogating. You can't get to know someone unless you talk to them and ask questions.” You told him as you gave him his headphones.

“I'm ignoring you and what are we working on today?”

“Hmm full body I guess. I already did my legs, back, shoulders and arms this week.” You answered as you shrugged and put in your headphones. Flipping through your phone, you tried to find the perfect playlist in order to get through the workout and hopefully finish strong.

You usually hated working out with Ja’Marr since he would always want to add on something extra at the end of it when you were ready to go home and crawl into the bed.

Joe and Ja’Marr quickly agreed and it was decided that the three of you would warm up by running on the treadmill for three miles before going back to the weight rack.

On your second mile, your music was suddenly cut off by your phone ringing. Looking down you saw that it was Trevor, your boyfriend of one year who happened to play baseball at LSU and that was one of your primary reasons for going there. Also having your brother there was a plus.

Deep down you knew that your brother didn’t like him, but to you he was the best thing since sliced bread and could do no wrong in your eyes. But what you didn’t notice was Ja’Marr glancing over at your phone and seeing it was him and rolling his eyes.

You simply finished out your third mile before going to call him back leaving Ja’Marr there along with Joe who had turned down the speed to a brisk walk as he had done the same.

“I fucking hate her boyfriend.”

“Wait, what? He’s here too?” Joe asked as he was looking around.

“No, I saw that he called her and I’m guessing that she went to go and call him back. I can’t fucking stand him and she could do so much better. But she’s happy and the last thing I want to do is ruin that for her. He honestly treats her like shit from what I’ve seen, but I guess she doesn't see it that way.” He confessed as Joe had his eyes on you as you were standing in the corner. He figured that you were on facetime by the way you were holding it and making gestures with your hands.

“But he makes sure to never do that shit in front of me because I will take his ass down. I’m always going to protect my sister. I honestly wish that she was with someone who respected her and didn’t take her for granted like his ass does. She is honestly the sweetest most generous person despite how much we might bicker and she doesn’t deserve someone who takes her for granted. But you'll eventually be able to see how sweet she is for yourself. She literally lives up under me. When you see me, nine times out of ten she’s not too far behind.”

It was at that moment, you walked back over to them and Ja’Marr could tell that you were visibly upset.

“Pebbles, what’s wrong?” Ja’Marr asked but you simply waved him off.

Ever since you two were about six months old, your aunt on your mother's side started to call the two of you Pebbles and Bam Bam and the nicknames had stuck. It also was no coincidence since your mom used to love watching the Flintstones when she was small just like you and Ja’Marr did.

“Nothing, I’m fine. Let’s hurry up and get this done.” You responded as you felt tears forming in your eyes and you did your best to quickly wipe them away.

“You aren't fine so don't stand up here and lie to me. Did he upset you?”

Joe could now see that he was visibly upset which was in turn making you more upset.

“Don't worry about it, I just want to get this done so I can go back to my apartment and study.”

“If you need me to kick his ass, I stay ready.”

“JA'MARR! NO!”

“And Joe will back me up too. You should see how much he can bench press. No one will know.”

“I… I appreciate both of you very much for offering even though you literally just threw Joe in there without giving him a say in the matter, but I promise I'm good.”

“I'm here for assistance if needed.” Joe said and that put a small smile on your face.

“Yeah about that, show me how much you can bench press.”

“Oh lord, Joe you got her started. Now her competitive ass is going to see if she can beat you. She might be small, but don't let that fool you. She also eats like a grown ass man.”

“Bam Bam, keep talking and I will throw that 60 pound dumbbell at your head.”

The workout was winding down and you wanted to work on your pull ups a little bit more since the upper body was your weakest area. You stood in front of the pull up bar and noticed that Ja'Marr was in the middle of his set, so the only other option was to ask Joe for help to reach the bar since there was no way in the world that you would be able to get up there on your own. But he beat you to it as he walked over to you.

“Need some help?”

“Hmm, definitely yes since there is no way in the world I'll be able to reach it by myself.” You replied as you both laughed.

“I got you. Jump up and I'll lift you the rest of the way.”

Nodding your head, you turned around and felt Joe's light touch on both of your sides. You couldn't quite explain it, but when his hands made contact with your skin, the feeling that it gave you felt unreal. Almost if it was something out of a movie. Shaking it out of your mind, you focused on the task in front of you as you jumped up.

As promised Joe helped you the rest of the way and stepped back once he saw that you were hanging onto the bar.

“Do you mind just standing there to spot me? Pull ups aren't my strongest thing.”

“Yeah, I'll be right here. Go ahead, you think you can do twenty?”

“Hmm, let's find out. I think I can.”

Fifteen of them came with ease and when you started to struggle, you once again felt Joe's hands on your waist and he helped you do the rest of them. You let go of the bar with him then catching you and placing you on your feet.

“Thank you for that.” You told him and you received a cheeky smile in return.

“Any time.”

“By the end of the semester, my plan is to be able to bench press the same weight or more weight than you.” You playfully told him and the smile that he had before became wider.

“I'd love to see that, princess. So let's put some money on it.”

“How much? 50?” You asked not really knowing how much he was willing to put up.

“Nah, you can do better than that.”

“Okay, 500.” You said as you shrugged.

“Damn, I didn't think you would go that high, but okay. Ja'Marr also mentioned to me that since you're the oldest, what you say usually goes between the two of you.”

“He's teaching you well.”

“Hmm, we'll see if that holds up between the two of us.”

“Looks like we just have to see then, won't we Burrow?”

The next day, you found yourself yawning at five in the morning absentmindedly taking small bites of your protein bar as you began to stretch with Erin coming over to sit next to you.

You hated that you had gymnastics practice so early in the day, making all of your classes be in the afternoon or late at night. The campus itself was huge and you didn't always necessarily feel completely safe when you had to walk back to your car late at night.

“So, did you break up with Trevor yet?” She asked as she began to stretch her arms.

“Uh? Good morning to you too, Erin.”

“Good morning, now did you two break up yet?”

“No, Erin.”

She sighed before rolling her eyes and looking at you in disbelief.

“Nobody likes him! Dump his ass! And I don't like the way he treats you. Truth be told, I've never liked him.”

“But I like him!” You exclaimed and she gave you a blank stare.

“Yeah, only you and his bald headed mother. You could do so much better. Oh! Who did you meet yesterday when you went to workout with Ja’Marr? I guess you fell asleep and never read my text.”

“Joe Burrow. He plays quarterback.”

“Oohh, he's cute! I heard about him transferring here. Break up with Trevor and date him! There, problem solved.”

“ERIN!”

“What? You have addressed me by my name a lot this morning. I like my plan and I think it'll work. Besides, he's a sucky ass baseball player. My goal is to get my best friend to become a WAG and being with him is not going to get you very far. He didn't even get a scholarship here. He was a walk-on!”

“I have literally only met that man one time and yeah I've said your name a lot because how do you wake up this unhinged!?”

“So? Love at first sight is an actual thing. I wasn't there, but I know it happened. And it's been that way since we were three.”

“And he did help me with my pull ups yesterday.” You told her as you shrugged your shoulders.

“I'm going to start planning the wedding when we leave. My class doesn't start until one today.” She replied as she smiled at you.

“I…-”

“What are you two going on about over here?” Your other friend Alisha asked as she sat her bag down to the left of her.

“Y/N is getting married to Joe Burrow! We have to start planning!”

“Erin, shut up!”

“Oh, but he's cute. Do you know if he has any brothers?” Alisha replied as she sat down on the other side of you.

“I.. don't but I will find out for you.”

“And slip them my number while we're at it.”

“He helped her during their workout yesterday. At this point, we can say it was their first date.”

“Erin telling everyone's business as usual.”

“Hey! I'm just good at storytelling! And he had the perfect view of your ass if he helped you with your pull ups now that I think about it.”

“Sometimes I honestly cannot believe you're my best friend.” You said as you couldn't contain your laughter anymore.

“And you aren't getting rid of me any time soon.”

Gymnastics practice was always long and draining so you knew what to expect every time. They typically lasted for three hours and when you were finished, you either got breakfast on campus or went back to your apartment to make something as Ja'Marr would also be blowing up your phone to feed him even though he was on an entire meal plan just like you were.

After taking a shower and throwing on some leggings along with an LSU sweatshirt and your converses, you started to walk out the building with Erin since Alisha had to hurry up to get to her class on time, when you spotted Joe.

Of course, Erin noticed too and squealed.

“Ooh, there goes your man!”

“Erin, be quiet! I don't want him to hear you! You are too loud for it to be eight in the morning!”

“Why not? And I'm always loud. I'm responsible for this love connection and I'm going to be the maid of honor. He NEEDS to know me.”

Joe had turned around and once he spotted you began making his way over.

“Oh shit, here comes your husband!”

“I hate you. I hate you so much right now.”

“You'll get over it.” Erin said as she smiled.

“Morning princess. Just got out of practice?” He asked as he came up to both of you.

“Morning and yes. Now I'm going to stuff my face. Oh Joe, this is my best friend Erin.”

“Hey Erin, pleasure to meet you.”

“You too and the pleasure is all mine.” She said and you couldn't help but laugh quietly to yourself.

“I was actually going to get food if the two of you wanted to come with me.”

“Y/N will go! I have class but she is free ALL MORNING. So I'm going to go and Y/N, I'll text you later. Have fun you two.” Erin practically yelled and you looked at her as if she was crazy.

“And then there were two. Where did you want to go to eat?” Joe asked as Erin had started to walk away.

“You're from Ohio, so you need to get a taste of some good southern cooking that makes you feel like you have just gained ten pounds.”

“Lead the way.”

“We're going on a little adventure off campus, my car is just over there. I think you'll like it.”

Less than a mile from campus was Louie's Cafe that had amazing breakfast as well as brunch foods. Anything that you could possibly think of they served.

On the ride over, the two of you just made small talk and when both of you had placed your orders for your food, you wanted to see how he was feeling for his first game that he would be playing in on Sunday because you already knew Ja'Marr was a nervous wreck.

“How are we feeling about Sunday? You nervous?” You asked as you took a small sip of orange juice.

“A little bit and I can admit it. I mean I played when I was in Ohio, but I was the backup. Now I'm actually starting. A lot of pressure on my shoulders and I feel like I have something to prove. I want them to be able to see that they made the right choice.” Joe told you and you were clinging to every word.

“But that's so exciting! What made you transfer here though out of all places?”

“I didn't want to be sitting on a bench for four years. I wanted to be able to play. I know that I'm good, but I just need a chance to show it.”

“Hmm, I do love a man with confidence. Well I'm very excited for you and my brother. I hate how you guys aren't playing here, but I'll make sure I'm watching.”

“Always confident, never cocky. And I'll try to get my first win as a starting quarterback for you.” He responded as he gave you a small smile.

“I can't wait to see it happen so once you get back here, we can celebrate. I can cook, so I can make you something.”

“I've been craving something my mom makes all the time, Snickers Salad.” Joe replied and you looked at him confused.

“Um? Is that an Ohio thing? Because I have no idea what that is.”

Joe nodded as he laughed and your waiter had set your plates down on the table in front of you.

“It is, but I can always text you the ingredients you need to make it. I figured you could do it justice since Ja'Marr never stops talking about how well you cook.”

“You need my number to be able to do that.” You Cheekily said, but he fired right back.

“Mine is in yours, already. I put mine in when we first got here since I want to be able to see more of these special spots you know about.” Joe confidently told you as he was pouring syrup on his banana pecan pancakes that had been recommended by you.

“I've literally only known you now for about 36 hours and I can say that I like being around you.”

“Good, because I like being around you too.”

Just then your phone rang and of course it was no one other than Ja'Marr.

“Pebbles! Are you at Louie's Cafe!?!? And you didn't take me!? I checked your location! I'm hungry too!”

“I took Joe instead because he doesn't get on my nerves like you do.” You told him as you stabbed your eggs.

“WAIT, you took Joe!?!?”

“Yes, say hi. You're on speaker.”

“Hey Ja'Marr.” Joe said as he was trying not to laugh.

“Joe, just make sure my sister gets me something to go. I'm about to starve messing with her ass.”

“I got you.”

“Bye, baby brother.”

“Wait! I didn't give you my order!”

“Text it to me, bye.”

Once you hung up and placed your phone back on the table, you looked back up at Joe to see him staring at you.

“When do you have class?”

“Not until one.”

“You want to do some more exploring with me? I feel that it's now my obligation as your unofficial tour guide.”

“I get to be around a pretty girl so I'm all for it.”

“Joe, you do know that I have a boyfriend right?” You asked as your face heated up.

“Someone as pretty as you, I'm not surprised. But what does that have to do with me?” He asked as he winked at you.

This is the first time in your life that you were speechless.

[ldrfanatic]

i miss you

theodore nott x reader

yeah this is gonna be angsty.

synopsis - a mini-series where reader and theo break up after a three year relationship and struggle without each other. eventual hea. this is more like excerpts and moments between the two of them than a full story. part two coming soon.

one

1.2k words

song - i miss you, i'm sorry by gracie abrahams

slytherin boys works

"i think we should break up."

you and theo spoke at the same time. both with tears in your eyes. after a three year relationship, neither of you really wanted it to end, both still harboring feelings for each other but after not speaking practically all summer, it seemed like the best option.

"i don't want to make things awkward with our friend group. but outside of group events, i think it's best we don't talk."

the boy in front of you nodded his head silently in agreeance. sobs wracked your body as theodore nott, your now ex-boyfriend pulled you into a strong hug. it felt like your heart was splitting in two. for the past three years, you'd known nothing but theo.

after an eternity, you both stepped apart and you shared a deep kiss. your last kiss. it was salty with the taste of both of your tears.

---

in the weeks that followed, you were the most miserable you'd ever been in your time at hogwarts. keeping your distance from the person who'd not only been your lover, but had become your best friend as well, was the most difficult thing you'd ever had to do.

everything reminded you of him. every path you took seemed to take you to theo. it was like the universe wanted you to suffer.

no less than four weeks after your breakup, word spread quick that marcus flint was planning on asking you out. before, no boy at hogwarts even dared to look in your direction in fear of what theo might do to them. but you supposed that didn't matter now.

you were eating breakfast next to luna. she was a little odd but she'd become an unlikely friend in the aftermath of theo. a dark brown owl that you recognized at the nott family owl dropped a note on the table in front of you. your name was scrawled across the front in handwriting you recognized.

luna placed an encouraging hand on your shoulder as you picked up the note with a shaking grasp. unfolding it, a message had been hastily scribbled.

"i miss you. i know you said that we're not talking, but can i see you? please?"

you looked up and met the intense stare of theo.

a single nod confirmed his request.

---

"how are you?"

you almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of the question. given your matching eye bags and teary eyes, neither of you were handling the split well.

"it's not hard to tell, nott. just ask me what you want to know."

theo kicked bitterly at the pebbles beneath his feet.

"i hear flint is planning on asking you to hogsmeade." he spit the words out like he couldn't believe someone was asking you out. the girl who wasn't his anymore.

"you don't have to worry, nott. i still love you. i promise."

"look, i'm not happy with this either, y/n. nothing happened in the way i wanted. but do you have to call me that? I hate it when you call me nott. like i haven't been the guy wiping your tears for three years."

you felt your eyes swelling. not even trying to stop the tears, you cocked your head sideways and pinned theo with a single heartbroken look.

"yes. i do. because i'm scared that if i call you theo, act like we're friends, smile at you and watch you smile at me, that i might never stop crying."

---

two months after your breakup with theo and you still hadn't stopped crying. you knew it would hurt. but this was inexplainable.

after your meeting in the astronomy tower, theo stopped showing up to meals. and classes. in fact, you hadn't seen him leave his dorm since. three weeks passed like a blur and before you knew it, snow was falling.

with christmas around the corner, you began handing out presents to your friends. one in particular sat in the corner of your room. the dark green wrapping paper had stood out noticeably from the silver snowflake wrapping paper you'd used on all the other gifts you'd given this holiday.

you stood across from mattheo, theo's roommate, and held out a folded piece of paper to the boy. mattheo took it, albeit confused.

"what's this?"

"for theo. just... give it to him. please."

mattheo nodded, gave you a quick hug and then scurried off in the direction of the boys' dorms.

---

"i got your note."

the deep voice of theodore nott startled you.

you placed a hand over your heart, having nearly jumped out of your skin. the sight that greeted you was nothing less than gut wrenching. the sweet hopeful boy you once dated was gone. in his place was the hollow shell that he'd been when you first met him, before you started dating.

he was thin and pale, noting to the fact that he'd barely eaten in the past few weeks. where you'd finally started to sleep a little easier at night, theo looked like he hadn't sleep in weeks. years even. if it hadn't been for the familiarity of the warmth of his gaze, you would've sworn this was not theo.

an involuntary gasp escaped you.

"theodore!"

you resisted the inherent urge to begin fussing over him. he watched you with a guarded stare. after a few beats of tense silence, you held the gift out to him.

he eyed it with apprehension.

"i bought it before..."

you didn't finish your sentence. you didn't have to. theo's head tilted back in realization and after a couple pensive breaths, he took the present.

he toyed with it in his hands for a few moments, as if deciding whether or not to open it. he seemed to have made a decision when he undid the white bow you'd carefully tied atop the small box.

inside was a silver chain. it was thick with a small delicate looking circle on the end.

"what is it?"

you chuckled slightly at his bluntness. he'd never been one to beat around the bush.

"it's a muggle thing, i think. my cousin was telling me about it. anyhow, you shine a light through it and, well," you spoke a soft lumos and shined your wand towards the circle. on the wall behind you, a picture appeared.

a young isabella nott was laughing with a young theo at a beach on a beautifully clear day. her smile was bright and contagious even through a picture. it was honestly the happiest you'd ever seen theo in your years of knowing him.

the moment theo saw the picture, he broke down. you really hadn't meant to make him cry.

"i'm sorry. i just wanted you to have it."

you knelt down next to him, and he immediately latched onto you.

"i can't- i can't do this without you. please."

this was the second time that theodore nott had begged you. the look in his eyes was all it took for your resolve to break.

"we fucked up bad, theo." you cooed softly to him as you rocked him through his sobs. "this breakup has tested... everything i thought i knew about myself. but i miss you. so we can talk about it."

---

7.8.2024

<taglist>

@moonlightreader649 @thatdammchickennugget @helendeath @fandom-life-12 @bouquetolegoflowers @maryvibess @nighttimemoonlover @blobsblobician

[httpknjoon]

what do the lonely do at christmas | myg

plot | that time when popstar!yn found herself on bassist!yoongi's bed on a cold December morning.

w.c | 2.8K

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader

genre | fluff, slight angst, enemies to lovers

note | one out of two/three holiday-themed drabble for this series! it's late, I know. but I can't let them sit in my drafts again haha so here it is. enjoy!

main masterlist | series masterlist | want to request?

DAY 66 of Love Is... On Tour

They make songs. Together.

After a show at Wells Fargo Center, Yoongi stayed locked in his hotel room to work on the music for your EP. He has read the lyrics you sent to him and listened to some melody ideas you recorded in your voice notes. In the last two days you two have been collaborating, you are full of visions and excited to tell him all of them. He finds it more surprising that you two haven't had any fights since then.

Is it New Years yet? I'm getting bored, so can we skip ahead? I just wanna forget That I'm at home with nobody to hold

So far, you already recorded two out of the six songs you planned to release in the EP. Usually, Yoongi takes his time in making and editing songs. But considering that this is a holiday EP and you have less than a week before the management's deadline, he works on it at every chance he gets. It's not that hard when you already have a clear vision of what and how you want the extended play to be.

Working is a great distraction compared to scrolling on his phone, which did no good for him. Mainly because he recently saw a post from a mutual friend of his and his ex. That's when he learned that Sara threw a baby shower in what was supposedly their house. He felt something cracked in him when he saw how far along her pregnancy was.

Tempted, Yoongi scrolled through the carousel of photos, admiring the decorations and colors of the house Sara probably picked herself, things that Yoongi had never seen personally. A single photo made Yoongi pause.

It shows Sara and her then-ex-boyfriend holding her growing bump, also showcasing a ring on her finger— not the emerald-cut diamond one he proposed to her. A new one, signaling that she is engaged for a second time this year. That photo was enough for Yoongi to turn it off and focus on his music.

Ding-dong.

Yoongi's head snapped, irritated when the unexpected doorbell noise filled his room. Frowning, he gets up from his chair to check who the person might be.

It's you.

Looking like a curious puppy, you stood before Yoongi's door with two cups of warm drinks you asked Cal to buy on the way back to the hotel. Yoongi looked at you through the small peephole, taking notice of your large, thick white cable knit sweater that falls just a few inches above your knees and the mystery cups you're holding. He opened the door when you began rolling your eyes and tapping your foot.

"What took you so long?!" you instantly asked the moment you saw him, handing him the other cup.

He snickered, ignoring your attitude. He takes the cup before pushing the door wider to let you in. Yoongi followed behind you when you walked inside. He sits back on his chair, in front of his small set-up, while you sit at the edge of his bed. Usually, you will take the couch. But the bed is nearer his working setup.

This is how you two have worked since you started. You only get up when you want to see his screen or when recording something.

"What are you doing here?" he asked since you just finished your show earlier. He figured you might prefer to rest and just work early tomorrow.

"I have an EP to work on, duh!" you replied, taking a sip from your hot chocolate as you tapped on your phone. "Anyway, lemme show you something..."

Probably a new idea. Yoongi thought. He knew it from the moment he saw you opened your phone's notes app.

"Here." You handed him your phone, letting him read something you wrote earlier today.

Maybe he met you somewhere in the desert While he was soul searching, he found someone better Guess you make him happy like I couldn't do Cindy Lou Who

Yoongi reads down the words, "It's a sad song?"

"Yep," you nodded. "Have you heard the song, What Do The Lonely Do At Christmas?"

Yoongi was quick to shake his head. He is not really fond of Christmas songs and doesn't listen to them if not needed. But he could tell by the title that it's probably a sad song too.

You pulled up your legs on his bed, making yourself comfortable, "It's a great song from the 70s. It has a lot of covers too. It's a sad Christmas song and I am so into it that I thought of writing one too."

Yoongi nods, listening, as he scans the rest of your lyrics, "Hmm..."

"What?" you quickly responded to his humming.

With how his eyes squint and his lips form a thin line, you know that he has something to say about your work. You learned after your first night of working together, making you realize that he has the same habit when you rehearse for a show.

"It's great, but I feel like we should just change some irrelevant lines? Like, maybe he met you somewhere in the desert." he read one of the lines. "What does desert get to do with Christmas?"

When he was met with a long silence, Yoongi looked up to you. But he find you just looking at him, chewing on your bottom lip. You looked away before letting out a heavy sigh.

"I found out my ex was cheating on me when paparazzi caught pictures of him and that actress kissing in Coachella." you explained.

"Oh..."

An apologetic look was instantly written all over his face, which is something you haven't expected. You thought he would keep the blank expression he always has. But his eyes and slightly gaped mouth said otherwise. You hate pity or anything like that, especially when it comes from someone who once read you too well. So, you grinned, even though it was forced so much that it almost made your cheeks hurt.

"Want to see the pictures? It's literally everywhere." you joked to change the mood. His eyes widened like he thought you were serious. So you chuckled, "I'm kidding! I won't show you that myself. You can just search it up if you want to."

"I'm not interested. No one really enjoys seeing a picture of their ex," he mumbled, returning your phone to you.

Your eyebrows crooked together when you heard that. He sounded too serious like he was the one in your shoes. You watch him sulk back to his seat, turning his back to work on one of your songs.

"You're acting like you were the one who got cheated on here. You're literally engaged to someone." you quipped.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not."

He whispered mindlessly. Yoongi didn't really think about it and let it slip out of his tongue. He doesn't really like bringing up his personal dramas in his workplace. He never would have realized what he said if you didn't ask him,

"What do you mean by that?"

Yoongi turned around, meeting your eyes, "So, how do you like that song to turn out?"

You're not dumb. Of course, you noticed him dodging your curiosities. He has never shared anything about himself since you two worked together. It's not like I care, you thought. But you know that there is a small itch at the back of your head, trying to get him to talk more. And maybe you know a trick to satisfy that itch.

"Let's order some wine first."

"With your hair so long, lips so bed— wait, that's wrong!"

A bottle of red wine is carelessly placed on the perfectly white duvet of Yoongi's bed. Surprisingly, it is still safe from any stain. The nearly finished cup of now-cold chocolate drink you brought is on the nightstand. You were giggling in front of the microphone and pop filter after making another mistake.

"The words are scrambled." you continued giggling before drinking from the glass of wine you were holding.

It has been almost two hours since you got in his room and Yoongi knows that the effect of your wine is getting into you. Earlier, before you could finish your first glass, you two already agreed on the instrumentals of the song you called cindy lou who. You let Yoongi make some changes in your lyrics, but it's nothing major.

"Something that feels delicate and maybe some piano." You described your idea before humming the tune you were thinking of.

By the second glass of wine, you are recording a rough draft of the song. So that you know if your ideas work well. Yoongi suggested to layer your vocals in some parts while you thought of adding a subtle harmony. Surprisingly, you two worked smoothly.

"Should we add some harp? Theo would have liked that."

You were almost done with your third glass of wine when Yoongi heard you mention your ex's name for the first time.

"Maybe we should stop drinking..." he said.

Even though he's in his fourth glass as well, Yoongi is doing better than you. You looked at him while he clicked something on his setup. You wondered if he could feel the cozy, warm feeling you've been feeling from the wine. Because that plain expression cannot really tell you anything, which makes you feel a little frustrated with how you're the only one who seemed to be a little giggly.

"Fine." you rolled your eyes, letting him take your glass from you.

He got up to get something in his room's mini fridge before going back to you, "Water?"

"It's cold," you replied before you could even touch the bottle.

"Okay, diva."

Your eyebrows raised with that, "No! I mean I cannot drink cold water when I'm singing or recording. It's not good for my throat... I'm fine, anyway. Thanks."

"I thought it would help you sober up," he explained, leaning to his chair.

"I'm sober!" you exclaimed defensively. Just a little fuzzy. But you won't admit that to him.

His lips formed into a smug smile, like he was saying, yeah sure. You puffed before fixing your headphones and crossing your arms over your chest. You looked annoyed. Yoongi knows because your nostrils are flared while there's a small pout on your lips. He bites off his inner cheek to stop himself from smiling.

"Should we record again?" he asked.

Still a little annoyed, you didn't say anything and just nodded your head. The instrumental began playing in your headphones seconds later.

‘Tis the season to be jolly But how can I be when I have nobody

The same song plays on your phone while you tap your fingertips in tune with the sleighbells playing in its instrumental. After finishing recording the song, you stay to see how it will turn out. Yoongi didn't seem to mind even though it was already past midnight.

"Do you want to hear the song I mentioned?" you asked him while he worked on the song.

Busy, he answered with a short sure. So, you played the song in a non-distracting volume, reached for the glass of wine you abandoned, and sat on his bed. You were quiet, sometimes humming to the song, but mostly staring at the view outside.

A silent night I know it's gonna be Joy to the world But it's gonna be sad for me

As the snow falls outside, you think of how this is so not how you expected your December is gonna be this year. With Noah being your original bassist, you thought you two would get to enjoy the snow in various cities you're touring in. And maybe even spend Christmas together during your break. But instead, you are now in your new bassist's, with whom you have dumb fights most of the time, hotel room, making holiday songs.

How surprising is that? You thought to yourself before taking one gulf of your wine.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Yoongi slightly groaned as he stretched his limbs from his chair. You paused the song and collected the wine bottle and your glass like you were ready to go.

"Are you kicking me out yet?" you asked.

He turned around, just to you about to get up from the bed, "What?"

"Maybe my presence distracts you." you joked, which sounds nicer than maybe you don't want me here in your room anymore because you don't like having me here.

He chuckled, a little tired, "No, it's okay. I know you're waiting for the finished version."

"Good. Because I really like your room. You have a great view of the city. The snow looks perfect here." you rambled.

Yoongi looked outside, seeing the wonderful view you were talking about. He wordlessly agrees before getting back to his screen. Watching him, you mumbled.

"If you're tired, we can just finish that tomorrow."

Just like you, the guy also performed hours ago. You two don't along at most times, but you are not that petty to make him overwork.

"No, I'm fine," he shakes his head. "I'll finish this in an hour, just wait there."

"Okay," you put down the bottle on the nightstand.

Yoongi heard the music play again while he edited the song. Eager to finish it tonight, he continued working for what seemed like a few minutes for him. He made sure to add your suggestions and put some elements he thinks would be perfect. After listening to his finished product through his headphones one more time, Yoongi put on a satisfied smile.

"And it's do—"

Yoongi's smile fell when he found you asleep on his bed with the empty wine glass in your hand. It was already 1:24 AM, and he looked at the time. Seeing how peaceful you are in your sleep, he would hate waking you up. Instead, Yoongi got up cleaned up his nightstand, and carefully took your glass. He tried not to chuckle loudly when he heard your small snores. After gently putting the duvet on you, Yoongi took one of the pillows and threw it on the couch that he would take over tonight. He knows it would be awkward to take up the big, empty space next to you.

Dimming down the lights, Yoongi tried to find a comfortable position on the couch. And when he did, he finally closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep.

If it weren't for the buzzing noise next to you, you would have seen where your celebrity crush ended up taking you for a date in your dreams. Groaning, you reached for your phone beside you. Seeing Cal calling, you begrudgingly answered the call.

"Hey, Cal." your voice sounded weak as you just woke up.

"Where the hell are you, YN?! I've been ringing your room. You have a virtual interview at 9."

Your eyebrows furrowed while slowly sitting up, "What do you mean? I'm in my room— Oh, no. Fuck."

The first thing you see when you sit up is Yoongi's compact studio setup, which you don't remember being in your room. You looked around and it just confirmed that you are not in your hotel room. Yoongi is nowhere to be found, you don't hear any noise from the bathroom either.

"Y/N?" Cal spoke again, worried by your sudden pause.

"I-I'm in Yoongi's room." you stuttered, trying to remember your last memory. You were relieved to find yourself still in the same clothes you went with last night.

You heard a gasp from the other line, "Oh my god, YN! Did you hooked—"

"No, no, no! Still in my clothes. Just fell asleep making songs." you babbled, cutting her suspicions off. "Where the fuck is that sock?!"

Is it a talent to lose a fucking sock while asleep? Because if it is, you just added a new title under your name. You were in a hurry, shuffling the bed for that one sock with heart patterns. Cal can only imagine what you look like right now.

"Here!" you exclaimed, immediately putting it on. You rushed to the door after. "I'm going there right— Yoongi!"

Yoongi was right before you. He shared the same shock as you except he was calmer with his eyebrows raised and eyes widened.

"I have to go for an interview. Cal's gonna rip my head off. I'll check the song later. Thank you for letting me stay!"

You were so in a hurry that you were literally spewing words and didn't realize that you leaned to give a quick kiss on his cheek. It registered as you were moving back, making you two stop for a moment, looking at each other in surprise. He gulped, feeling his throat running dry. while you feel every blood run to your cheeks now, feeling warm.

You blinked, "I-I'm gonna go."

Yoongi watched you run to the elevator before looking at the two cups of coffee he was holding.

note | i still have a christmas drabble! haha! hope u liked this one though <33

taglist rules

SERIES TAGLIST (OPEN)

@busanbby-jjk @jimingirl95 @treacherqus @jajabro @marnz1990 @ktownshizzle @notarshia @m00njinnie @thelilbutifulthings @tarahardcore @livisdoingfine @jungshaking @eridanus-lynx @enthralled-bandit

PERMANENT TAGLIST (CLOSED)

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21 @marblemoonstones

[gguk-n]

Chapter 4- Heartbreak and Understanding

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen X Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N decides to forgive Max. Max wins his home race. She meets Max's girlfriend who doesn't seem to like her very much. Did I tell you Y/N watched Max win his home race?

{Reader's POV}

Falling in love with your friend is a bad idea. Falling in love with your internet friend who has a girlfriend was an even worse idea. Falling in love with Max Emilian Verstappen was the worst idea. He's all over my screen after I searched him on every social media ever. I cannot escape him when I'm trying to get over him.

It's been a few months since the either of us have spoken to each other. After I asked for time, Max respected my wishes. After our call, I received a message from him saying that he would always be there for me no matter what and that he would like to clear up the misunderstanding one day. I knew I would talk to him, however I hoped that it would be when I was over him. Doesn't look like that's about to happen any time soon since this man is everywhere and anywhere I look.

Summer break was here, so I was having a girl's night with my friend Riley when I decided to ask for her opinion on this whole debacle. "Sooooo, Riley" I began. "You're about to unload some shit you did aren't you. Who fucked you up?" she interrupted me. "What?" I questioned. "I've known you for 6 years, I know you too well. Tell me who do I have to beat up." she said. I began to laugh. "No one" I said in between laughter. I wiped a tear away from the side of my eye, "I haven't laughed like this in a while." I muttered. "Go on, love" Riley prodded. "Yeah, so I have this internet friend, we've been friends since 2013. He's nice, kind, funny, handsome, blonde, blue eyes" I was talking when she cut me off; "exactly your type" I nodded along. "It's all nice and all. I didn't know what he did for a living. I recently found out that he is famous" I mumbled. She looked at me shocked. "Who?" was all she said. "Max Verstappen, Formula One driver for Redbull Racing" I said. "Damn, I mean he's like cute for a white boy. I think he's cool and shit for driving in fast cars, I appreciate him as an athlete for sure; as my bestie's potential love interest, questionable at best" she replied. "why, I mean I didn't say I was interested in him?" I asked defensively. "Bro, he is literally exactly your type, I've seen the men you date or hook up with, on the other hand, he has a girlfriend" she pointed out. "Ok, I know and you scare me sometimes" I lamented. "so, my real question is, I didn't know he was Max Verstappen. I didn't know he had a girlfriend. I was hurt when I found out and stopped talking to him, had a confrontation and then I said I need time before I am ready" I explained. "Understandable" she nodded along. "what do I do?" I asked. "what do you want to do?" she questioned back.

I love Max and I would like to be a part of his life even if it meant only as friends because I cherished the time we've had together. Also, I feel like I didn't let him explain himself the last time we spoke. I want to mend our ways. I would love to have him forever, even if only as a friend. "I want to still have him in my life even if it meant only as friends." I said cautiously. "Then there's your answer." she pointed out. "Talk to him, clear stuff out. If his explanation seems legit then continue to be friends." she suggested. "great idea. Thanks Riley" I said. "Don't mention it. Now can we un-pause the movie." she asked. "yes" I said while un-pausing the movie.

A few days after the heart to heart with Riley I texted Max. I knew he was supposed to be back next weekend for the race and was currently at home. I kind of confirmed that by watching his streams where he did SimRacing. I don't think I'll be telling this to anyone, honestly. He was on stream when my text went through, I saw him check his phone and ask to leave the stream early since he needed to do something; that something being to call me because within seconds my phone was ringing with the familiar name cropping up on the screen. I answered the call, Max staring back at me, a tentative smile played on his lips. He waited for me to start talking.

Y/N- Hi Max. Max- Hi Y/N, how've been? Y/N- Good, you? Max- Yeah, OK. Y/N- I'm sorry for lashing out the last time we spoke. Max- No, no, don't be sorry. I was at fault for hiding such important information from you. Can you ever forgive me? Y/N- Depends... Max- What do I have to do to get you to forgive me? Y/N- Why didn't you tell me? About everything; your girlfriend, your career? Max- I...When we started talking I just enjoyed being a regular teenager, where we talked about school and random stuff. I got to be Max the teenager not Max the youngest Formula One driver. I enjoyed the disconnect I got with you. I got to be myself and forget about racing for a minute. You made me feel like a regular guy. Y/N- I wish you had told me because when I found out about your championships, I felt like I missed out on celebrating such a huge and momentous occasion with you. That hurt. Max- I'm sorry for that. I didn't know how to tell you since it had been so long, I did want to tell you, I really did want to share my happiness with you; I just didn't know how to. You made me feel normal. Y/N- I'm glad I could be of some help. Max- You were of so much help. You calmed me down before many races and reading your messages or hearing your voice was like a comfortable constant. Thank you. Y/N- Fine, I get it some times famous people want to live regular lives, what about your girlfriend. Why didn't you tell me about her? Max- I....am not really sure. We started dating 2 years ago, it just happened. We'd known each other for a while. It just happened. Y/n- Hmmm....doesn't she mind that we talk so much? Max- No, she's chill about it. (He laughed awkwardly) Y/N- I hope we won't have anymore lies between us Max- No not at all. I cherish our friendship too much Y/N- me too. Max- This weekend is my home race. Y/N- I saw Max- You did? Y/N- I might like watching my best friend win... Max- That's great, then you can watch me win in person next week. Y/N- Sweetheart, Maxie, You might be a millionaire; your friend here is broke as fuck. I can't fly out so suddenly. Max- You don't have to worry about anything. I'll get you the tickets and stuff. Just say yes. Y/N- I mean, I would love to meet you in person.... Max- Then, that's final. You're coming to the Dutch GP next week. I'll pick you up at the airport. You should come early and leave a little later. I'll show you around. Max looked and sounded excited. Y/N- Ok (I couldn't help but laugh at his excitement)

As soon as I ended the call, I got plane tickets to the race. He said he would come pick me. I couldn't wait to meet him. I'm sure nothing bad will happen; from meeting my long time friend.

I thought maybe I should show Max some support and buy his merchandise or something; no one told me it was this expensive. I decided against it. The race was on the 27th; I was flying in on the 24th. The flight there was nerve wrecking. I've seen him although not in person. I got a text from Max telling me to go to a certain gate in the parking area where he would be waiting. I found him rather quickly; he had his hand sticking out of the car. I tapped on the window with a big smile plastered on my face. "Hi Maxie!" I greeted. "hey, schat. Get in, I don't wanna get caught." he said pointed at the door. "By who?" I quizzed. "I feel like you forgot what I did for a living and where we were." he chided. I laughed before walking to the opposite side and getting in.

Initially, things felt a little awkward but the atmosphere turned friendly quite quickly. We reached the hotel I would be staying at; Max had planned the entire week of my stay out. I was going to just rest today while Max attended to media stuff and then we would have dinner together tonight. He would take me along to the paddock for all the 3 days. And after the race weekend, he would take me to all his favourite place; my personal tour guide.

I crashed for the day after a shower and having food. I only woke up when Max called me to let him in. It took me a while to realise where I was. I apologised for not being ready to leave when that was the plan initially. Max didn't mind and offered to wait till I got dressed. He told me we were going somewhere fancy so I pulled out my black satin dress I kept for special occasions. This was a special occasion, right, I thought. Max was a lot more patient compared to all my exes who would start getting antsy; he even helped me decide on the jewellery and shoes I should pair with my outfit. Why are all the good men taken, God?

We had authentic dutch food in a fancy restaurant as a three course meal. I loved the Apple tart. I almost moaned as I placed a spoon of it in my mouth; "Max, this is so good" I groaned. Max smiled, "I'm happy you like it." "I love desserts Max, but this is almost up there with my favourites" I said with a mouth full of apple tart. "What are your favourites?" Max asked. "I love tres leches, tiramisu and cheese cakes" I mumbled. After finishing the food, we decided to walk around for a while; it was kind of dark and Max would probably not get recognised was the thought. "Thanks for the food. Maximilian" I said. He just nodded along. "It's an atrocious name Maxie, no offence but Emilian as a middle name; who ever named you, hates you" I said shaking my head. Max laughed it off; "I would've thought you were fucking with me, if you told me that was your middle name" I said patting his back. "I'm sorry" he said. "Don't apologise for your name, you had no control" I said now facing him. "No, I mean I'm sorry for lying and hiding things from you. I never felt good doing that. I wish I had told you sooner. I wish you had found out about it through me." he said regretfully. "It's ok Max, the past is in the past. I hope we'll be more honest in this friendship" I said enveloping him in a hug for the first time. His head found it's way in the crook of my neck, a woody scent wafted into my nose while Max clutched on to my waist. I felt warm tears drip down my shoulder. "Max, are you crying?" I asked, trying to pull away. He tightened the grip on my waist and buried his head deeper, if it was possible, "No" he replied, making my skin on the shoulder vibrate. "It's ok Maxie, let it all out. I'm always there for you." I said patting his back to console him. "I thought I lost you, I thought you'd never speak to me again, I thought you hated me." he muttered softly. "I could never hate you, I might've been angry but I knew I didn't want to lose you either. You are a very important friend to me" I said. "I don't ever want to lose you" he said, finally deciding to look at me with his tear streaked face. I wiped away the tears. "Me neither, now let's go, you have a race tomorrow" I said pulling him along.

The conversation kept me up at night. It was giving me mixed signals. I didn't know what to make of it. He has a girlfriend, granted I haven't met her yet. There was desperation in Max's eyes and his words. They felt heavy and part of me wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with this. Was I thinking too much into it? What was Max's deal?

I got to meet Max's girlfriend the next day. She didn't seem too pleased with me; I mean I don't think anyone could welcome a random women your boyfriend said was his childhood friend suddenly. I didn't hold it against her. I got to meet Max's teammate and the other drivers. All of them were very kind and welcoming. I got to learn a lot about Max while I waited for him to get done with interviews after free practise. I was talking to Lando while he waited his turn after Max. Max returned which made Lando leave. "You didn't tell me you had such cute friends. I would've asked you you set me up with him sooner" I said while we walked back to Redbull. "No" he stated. "You're patronising with the enemy" he continued. "Your enemy, my future boyfriend." I joked. "He's not your type" Max interjected. "And you know what my type is?" I asked. Before he could say anything, his girlfriend whisked him away.

I ended up talking to Checo who was surprised to know me and Max had been friends for so long. Almost everyone in the garage was shocked about our friendship. Checo told me it's because Max had never told them about me. Max and his girlfriend came back who looked visibly annoyed; I tried asking Max what was up but he brushed me off. I spent the rest of the day being dragged around by Max who couldn't stop talking about anything and everything.

I spent Saturday with a lot of the mechanics and engineers who had so much good stuff to talk about. It would probably help me in editing that author. She was almost done with the book; but a few more additions won't hurt. Max qualified pole, he was so excited. He dropped me back at my room when I told him he should rest up before the race when he offered to watch a movie with me. He couldn't care less, he promised to win the race for me even with a little sleep. We ended up watching some movie. His girlfriend's annoyed face was etched in my brain through out the movie, so I decided to ask him about that. "Max, I'm sure your girlfriend minds you spending so much time with me" I suggested. "No, I told her I'm meeting you for the first time. She shouldn't care." he said. "I'm sure she does, she doesn't look very happy to me" I commented. "Don't think about it too much" Max said handing me the can of cold drink. I wasn't very satisfied, but there's only so much I could do.

The race was crazy, it got my heart beating really fast watching all of them zip past at such a high speed. Max did so well, he finished the race in P1 just like how he started it. Everyone rejoiced and headed to where Max was. GP took me with him. Max got out of the car and took his helmet off, his eyes were scanning the area. As soon as our eyes met he strode towards me. His girlfriend was a couple of steps away, before I knew it Max hugged me. "I won, just like I told you I would" he whispered. "Congratulations Max." I said while turning my head towards his girlfriend who looked visibly annoyed and quickly turned on her heels and left. "You shouldn't have done that" I told Max while pulling away. "Done what?" he questioned. "You should've gone to your girlfriend after winning your home race." I said. "She's here for so many of my races, you're not" he stated. I face palmed myself, "Doesn't matter Max, she probably hates me" I said. Max just shrugged his shoulders and went to get weighed.

After all the formality and interviews Max was on the top step of the podium. I was very proud of him and you could see it on my face. I couldn't find his girlfriend anywhere around. Max got down from the podium drenched in champagne trying to hug me while I pushed him away. "No, you'll get me all sticky" I shouted while running away from him.

[ Winning his home race felt special to Max because Y/N was watching. He walked right up to her the moment his eyes landed on her. He couldn't help but wrap himself around her. After the race, they were going out to celebrate his win because Y/N wanted to go out with the other drivers and so he agreed. After reaching his room to quickly shower and leave, he was met with his girlfriend who was sat on the edge of the bed. She didn't look happy and after a bit of back and forth; Max said it. The words that had been floating around in his head for a while now; he didn't know why he didn't say it sooner. He broke up with his girlfriend. He wasn't sad but rather relieved. He walked into the shower while his girlfriend packed everything up to leave]

[muddyorbsblr]

back to you part 1: madness calls

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: It's been years since Loki disappeared on a mission gone wrong, and Thor walks in to Banner's lab with snake in hand, asking if you could check if it's Loki

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning/s: implied/presumed major character death; snakes; mention of death by falling; mention of assumed violence on an animal

The beep of the door to the lab alerted you and Banner to the presence of a visitor. From the heavy footsteps and the musky cologne, it didn't take long for you to figure out who it was.

"Hey, Thunder." You looked up from your microscope, hand already outstretched to take in the samples that you told him to collect from your mission in the Bolivian forests. But you quickly withdrew it the moment you clocked that he wasn't holding out a soil sample.

He was holding a snake.

"I do have the samples you requested, Lady Y/N," he assured you. "But I was hoping that perhaps you and Doctor Banner could examine him first. This might finally be the one. Look at his eyes, the sheen on his scales. This is Loki, I'm sure of it."

"Thor…" you sighed, fighting back tears as you mustered up the words. "Thor, it's been years since the incident. We haven't seen or heard anything from your brother since--"

"I know, Lady Y/N," he cut you off, his voice louder than usual. He sighed, holding the serpent out to you. "But I cannot just give up on the hopes that perhaps, by the grace of the Norns, my brother is still out there. That perhaps he still lives. Perhaps he's even in my hands as we speak, and his magic has been compromised and he cannot break out of his shape shift.

"Please, my friend. I swear that if your findings prove me to be wrong, then I will burden the rest of you no longer with my search for my brother. I will scour the Realms myself until I find him. Just one final time."

You fought the tears stinging at the back of your eyes, holding out your hands to take the snake. Its black scales had an iridescent sheen to it; holding it out to the light had that sheen going back and forth from a yellowish-green to a near gold. Looking at it, you could understand how Thor could have been filled with hope that maybe this was Loki.

However, there was nothing in the creature's eyes that could have indicated any form of recognition.

Then again, it's been years. And he probably didn't even recognize me looking like this on a good day back when he was around, you thought ruefully. You carefully placed the little snake on the table, grabbing hold of the scanner that Stark, Strange, and Banner collectively worked on that could scan the presence of even the slightest traces of magic.

If Loki so much as breathed on this snake, in theory, this machine could tell you.

You honestly didn't know if it was Thor's nearly moving speech about being hellbent to find his brother, or perhaps your own misplaced feelings of hope that maybe the god's magic truly was compromised from the shape shift, and perhaps this could finally be the breakthrough you were pleading with the gods for.

Or maybe it was insanity, hoping for a different outcome despite having done this exact test countless times in the years since that fateful mission. The last memory you had of the raven haired god was him practically shoving you away from him with no warning. And when you turned around to give him a piece of your mind, he was gone.

And then an agent running comms told you that they saw footage of a strange, swirling vortex materialize where you stood right before Loki shoved you. Suddenly all your unspoken words felt monumentally heavier on your tongue, the little voice in your head now incessantly telling you that the visceral rejection would have been better than the regret of having said nothing.

So maybe it was all those things working together that had your heart turning to lead and sinking to the ground when you heard the ever disappointing monotone double beep of the machine. The snake was just a snake.

You didn't even have to tell the blond Asgardian; he could see it from your face that you didn't have a lick of good news. All he did was give you a tortured tight-lipped smile, his own tears brimming in his eyes. "I shall get the samples you requested then. Thank you, my friend."

Just as he was about to walk out of the lab, a blaring signal started sound across the entire floor, putting everyone on high alert.

"I didn't touch anything," the Asgardian said in defense, putting his hands up.

"We know, Thor, it's okay," Banner told him, putting in earplugs that put the greening hue of his skin at ease. "It's a distress signal. An agent sets it off if they're out on the field and they're in imminent danger and need more backup."

"Except," you mumbled, mostly to yourself, listening to the pattern of the signal. You'd heard the distress calls of other SHIELD agents before and it didn't sound like this. Where was this pattern from? You listened more intently to the peaks of the signal, recognizing the morse code. A tiny signature that you and Tony put in that was easily recognizable to those in the team that understood.

"It's an Avengers level distress signal," you and Thor said in unison, both of you rushing out of the lab to the control room, the rest of the team steadily filing in. Steve walked in last, starting to count off everyone in the room.

"Everyone's here save for Xu--" he said, cut off when Shaun's face showed up on the large floor-to-ceiling screen, visibly concerned at the sound of the alarm filling the aircraft.

"I'm here, guys. I'm safe," his voice rang through the speakers over the alarm.

"So if it's not anyone on the team, then one of us had butter fingers and dropped our signal somewhere in the field. My money's on Point Break," Tony quipped, earning a strangled sound of protest from Thor as he defensively said 'I most certainly did not!'

"Boys, shut up and stop fighting," Natasha said snappily, typing away on the keyboard and pulling up a map on the big screen to show her progress on tracking the location of the signal. "It's coming from somewhere just outside of London. Lemme just get a hold of one of the satellites around that area and…whoa."

You and the rest of the team in the control room all looked at the screen in combined concern and horror, watching the utter pandemonium that was breaking out from what looked like a high-rise building. Multiple people playing a deadly game of tug-of-war for resources at the roof, some of them being kicked or pushed off the edge and falling to their certain death.

There was foliage that had caught fire, making the building a brilliant shining light calling the attention of anyone flying over the area. Anyone looking at the live satellite feed of the outskirts of London, like you and your team.

"Cap, even if the signal isn't from one of us, we can't just pretend we didn't see this," you spoke up. "We have to help."

His only response was to nod, not taking his eyes off the screen, only tearing his eyes away once the rabid tenants began to fight over a dog. Nat turned the screen off; nobody needed to see what came after.

"Everyone gear up," he addressed the room. "Get Support to prep the Quinjet, we're wheels up in ten. Our mission is to find out who triggered the distress signal. And save as many civilians as we can manage."

A/N: Well damn…here we go, I guess. Welcome to 'back to you', everybody! This is a series I conceptualized back in early 2023 and my brain's finally gotten around to writing it the last few days. The rust is steadily being worked off, and hopefully…I've got not just this, but some more stuff in store. We'll see where things take me 🫡

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie

@superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist @alexakeyloveloki @lulubelle814

[xamag-draws]

BBR thoughts 2024

Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies

This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not

So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters

I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash

I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted

Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it

At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do

Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction

So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older

I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet

When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"

But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work

If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now

I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:

Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)

I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat

I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least

I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example

I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep

I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor

I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence

The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers

Some new Dolly outfits

Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days

Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo

I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused

One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book

An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well

So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 21: Try to Understand

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twenty one of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 7.5K

Warnings: I'm gonna go 18+, I'm not sure that it needs it, but I'm still gonna do it. Angst, Talks of pregnancy, Talks of possible abortion, Cursing, Fluff, Sexual References, Graphic Nightmare?, FLUFF, Family Problems, Self-deprecating thoughts, Awkward Situations, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Soldier Boy POV

After his shower, you still haven't come back from talking to Rosemary, and Ben decides that instead of eavesdropping on your conversation, he's going to go to the kitchen and get a drink. He knows exactly where Legend hides the good shit, mostly because Legend hid it to keep it away from Ben in the first place. And despite it happening forty years ago, nothing in Legend's house had changed. Ben had many memories of this house, at least two Herogasms had been hosted here, hell, Ben had memories in the room you two were sharing, but he kept them to himself.

The last thing he wanted was for you to think about any of the things that happened in the past, not when you had told him that he had made it up to you, not when you had held him close after all these years and whispered things to him that he always wanted you to say, and not when he was more happy than he'd ever been.

You said that you forgave him, Ben understood that, but that didn't mean he was going to stop making it up to you every day and it didn't mean that he was going to stop making you happy, because after all these years you were still the only thing he wanted, and he refused to lose you ever again.

He glances at the empty bottle on the nightstand, the one that you brought with you last night and the same bottle the two of you finished together.

He was surprised when you said you stopped drinking, but not completely. You'd only drunk socially as a supe, and Ben hadn't seen you drunk since the two of you were kids. He knew it was because you didn't want to lose control like he did.

Ben stutters on the memory of what happened in Mid-town, and what happened forty years ago when he threw a car through a house and killed an innocent bystander. Ben didn't believe he was a bad guy, he was a hero or- the memories of all the moments he lost control began to seep though the cracks- at least he thought he was.

His mind drifts back to you. You were always in control. The one time he'd ever seen you lose control was when you lost it at the premiere all those years ago. It was justified. Ben would have lost it too if he walked in on anyone fucking you. His jaw clenches at the thought, but then he remembers what you said last night, that there hadn't been anyone else, that you never wanted anyone else but him ever. It was surprising to him, that you hadn't moved on, even after all this time you still loved him the same way you always had and that there would never be anyone else.

Fuck. Ben took in a deep breath to avoid getting too excited remembering what you said, feeling warmth begin to build in his abdomen. It had been difficult to contain himself when you admitted that to him. If you had let him, he would have made love to you right then, made you feel things that no other man ever did, but you said you wanted to wait.

And Ben wanted to respect that, wanted to respect you.

He examines the empty bottle once more.

When you were younger he'd watch you get drunk on cheap beer that he bought you more than once, usually when you proclaimed that you could drink him under the table and then Ben had to practically corral you to get you home. Then again he liked those nights, when you'd try to sing, swing from light poles that lined the street, and you'd grab his hand and say crazy things like "let's run away" or "let's go egg Missy Callahan's house." Both of which Ben didn't need much more convincing to say yes, but the two of you never did.

He would have run away with you if you'd ever seriously asked him to, he would have dropped everything to leave, would have chosen you just as you chose him the night he showed up and asked you to go with him to get the serum. The promise he made to protect you and be strong for you the night you went with him was not new. He had repeated it to himself every day since the minute he realized how much you meant to him.

And he would continue to do it for the rest of his life.

Ben ascends the stairs, buttoning the Giants jersey that Butcher bought for him. He wasn't the biggest fan of them forty years ago, but it was one of the only shirts he had. And the last thing he wanted to do was walk around without a shirt on. Ben smiles to himself remembering your reaction when you walked in on him changing into his supe suit yesterday morning. He loved that you reacted to him that way, it was the same way that he reacted to seeing you yesterday when you were standing in your bathroom in only your bra, looking just as beautiful as you had forty years ago when he took you to bed and-

Fuck. Ben took in another deep breath finishing the last button to avoid thinking about you naked. It had been forty years for him and he knew that he was going to have to take it slow when it came to sex.

He stumbled into the kitchen and froze.

Lou was sitting at the square kitchen table that sat under a floor length window and looked out onto the sprawling backyard of Legend's property. Ben could see Rosemary and you talking at the very edge of where the grass met the thick woods beyond.

"Hi Ben!" Lou smiles wide at him. A giant box of crayons sits on the table just beyond her filled with every color known to man, while she scribbles in a sketchbook that looks suspiciously like the same ones that Ben had seen you buy for yourself in the past. "Do you know how to draw trees? Aunty y/n always does them for me, but she's talking to mommy."

"Um-" Ben clears his throat, fastening the last button of his shirt. Lou was smiling at him the same way you did, like she was genuinely happy that he was there, and he wasn't used to that. It was the same way you used to smile at him when he climbed through your bedroom window. He looks out the window to where you're still talking to Rosemary trying to find a way out, until finally he sighs. "No. I'm sorry."

"That's okay, mommy can't draw either." Lou looks back at her drawing while reaching for a brown crayon. She was wearing pink polka dot pajamas, pants and a shirt that matched. Ben had never seen pajamas like that before, but he supposed that pink was her favorite color, given that she was also wearing a pair of bright pink fuzzy slippers.

He couldn’t help but smile. He wondered if you hated how much Lou liked pink, if it reminded of those dresses your mother used to make you wear that always made you look like a giant iced birthday cake.

Personally, Ben didn’t think you looked that ridiculous, he thought that you looked cute, ruffly, but cute. You never believed him when he told you that.

Ben wandered over to the cabinet where he thought the whiskey was, but as soon as he opened it, he found the cabinet empty.

Did he fucking move it?

"It's under the sink." Lou said from behind him.

"What?" Ben turns around surprised.

Lou was still scribbling with her crayon in her sketchpad. "Uncle Legend came in and moved it this morning."

"Thanks." Ben awkwardly makes his way over to the sink, and sure enough behind the mop bucket is a full bottle of whiskey. He busies himself with pouring a glass before he eyes the chair next to Lou wondering if he should sit there.

Ben was nervous, he'd never admit it, but he was. This was his granddaughter, someone that you loved very much. He'd never been around a kid before, didn't have any siblings growing up, and certainly didn't have any relatives with children the way you had.

He liked to think that if he had been there when you were pregnant and when you gave birth to Rosemary he would have gotten used to it gradually. He wasn't sure if he could even be a dad, not after everything that happened with his own.

He was sure that he was going to be a disappointment to Rosemary and even to Lou and-

"Sit with me." Lou says, interrupting his train of thought as she gets off of her chair to pull out the one next to her for Ben tugging with all her strength to pull it out from under the table.

Ben hesitates, but finally smiles at her efforts to get him to sit with her and sits down.

An awkward silence falls over him, he's again unsure what to say, so he takes a sip from his glass and hopes that you'll come in and save him from saying the wrong thing, but given how upset you look standing outside with Rosemary, he's sure that it won't be anytime soon. The urge to go outside and get between Rosemary and you is strong, but just as he begins to move to get out of the chair, Lou interrupts him.

"You make her smile more." Lou says, while grabbing a red crayon with her chubby hand and begins to draw the petals of a flower in her sketchbook, meticulously trying to make them more circular, tongue between her teeth as she concentrates.

"Who?"

"Aunty y/n. She didn't smile as much before." She says it matter of factly.

"Really?"

Lou nods reaching into the box of crayons for a new color. "She tried to act like she wasn't sad, but I think she was. Sometimes when she thought I was asleep I would find her on the couch just sitting there. I think she was lonely. And I tried to give her bigger hugs but they never seem to work. Hugs always make me feel better." Lou sighs.

"I'm sure that your hugs made her feel better." Ben's says tightly. He's not sure how to talk to Lou, isn't sure if he should talk to her like an adult or not.

"I love aunty y/n. I want to be just like her when I grow up. I want to be an artist!"

Ben looks down at the sketchpad on the table beneath Lou’s hands. It was of a giant tree that had different colored flowers all squished together in its branches. Each flower was different than the last, crudely drawn, but under it all Ben could see her potential. It reminded him of the sketchbook pages you first showed him when you were eight and swore him to secrecy, threatening bodily harm if you told anyone else about them.

“You’re very good.” Ben says and Lou beams with pride at her drawing, before flipping to a new page. She holds out a brilliant yellow crayon towards Ben. “Please draw a sun right here.” She taps her finger against the top left of the page before placing the crayon in his hand.

“Oh I don’t think I-“

“You can do it Ben! Aunty y/n says that art doesn’t have to be perfect, that it gets messy sometimes but that makes it fun!” Rosie reaches for a purple crayon and begins to draw stick figures to the right of the page.

Ben had heard you say that before, usually after your mother would sneer or make a comment about your paint stained hands when he’d bring you home from a day at the park. But sitting here listening to Lou say it was different.

Lou reminded him of you as a kid. She wasn't afraid  to speak up, to say what she thought, and she was filled with creativity and love.

Ben always admired that about you, that you were able to create things so perfectly and that you always made space in your heart for him, even when he was a complete dick for so long. He wondered if Rosemary was like you too. He could see a bit of it when she told him off, saw how headstrong she was and how ready she was to protect who she loved from him.

Ben hated that Rosemary believed that he would hurt you again, when it all but tore his own heart out to do so the last time.

But he was trying, hoped that she could see that he was trying and hoped that one day she’d let him in. The problem was he wasn’t the most patient person in the world.

He looks down at the crayon in his hand frowning slightly. He wasn’t an artist like you. The only thing that he’d really ever drawn was the naughty doodle that got him kicked out of boarding school, the one that made you laugh so hard you pushed him off the bed when he drew it for you in your sketchbook. You’d tried to show him other ways of drawing and painting but he’d never been interested.

Not to mention he didn’t think it was manly. He didn’t think that a man should have a hobby like this. It should be fishing or hunting or something like that but he looks down at Lou.

Her eyes are shining bright with excitement, smile wide, dimples showing and he doesn’t want to disappoint her, not when she’s been nothing but nice to him since he showed up.

If Hughie or fucking Butcher come in here and see me drawing this fucking sun I’ll-

“You don’t look like your pictures.” Lou hums drawing a smile on the face of the stick figure.

“Huh?” Ben looks up confused.

“The pictures that mommy keeps in the drawer.” Lou says reaching for a black crayon to draw long flowing hair on the stick figure.

“What pictures?”

“Of you and aunty y/n. Mommy has some in her drawer.” Lou acts as if she hadn’t said anything, grabbing a different crayon to draw another stick figure.

“She has pictures of us?”

“Yeah. You don’t have the beard though. And you and aunty y/n are really young.” She pokes his cheek with a chubby finger, making Ben freeze. Lou squints her eyes at him. “You don’t look like the picture that aunty y/n drew either.”

Ben hesitates, eyes slightly widening. “She drew a picture of me?”

“Few days ago.” Lou scribbles. “You didn’t have a beard then either.”

In the new drawings and paintings that Ben had seen back at your apartment, he hadn’t seen any drawings of him, he assumed it was because of everything that happened, but to learn that you did still draw him made him smile.

“You don't like it?” Ben asks, amused.

She shrugs. “It’s okay.”

“Aunt y/n likes it.” He said it more to himself than to Lou. Like hell he was going to shave it off when he saw how much you liked it when he came back. Ben smiles to himself remembering how your heart beat jolted out of your chest whenever he touched you, how your cheeks flushed, how your smooth skin felt beneath his hands-

There were so many little things that Ben missed about you, so many things that he had forgotten, and now he got to learn each one all over again and fall in love with every part of you for the second time in his life.

The sun he drew in the top left of the page was lopsided, but Lou didn't complain, in fact she added a pair of sunglasses to it, and a bright smile that Ben laughed at.

"What are you two doing?" Ben hears your voice say as your hand gently rubs his back. Ben looks up embarrassed. He hadn't wanted to get caught with a crayon in his hand, but at least it had been you and not Butcher.

"We were just-" Ben begins to say, his eyes flicking to where Rosemary stands behind Lou eyes narrowed.

"Mommy look. Ben is helping me color!" Lou crows, picking up her drawing so Rosemary can see.

Ben realizes what Lou was drawing on the other side of the page. Lou has drawn Rosemary and you standing with Lou in between the two of you holding on to her hands. Ben's eyes slide to the last figure in the drawing, his chest suddenly very tight, it's him, standing beside you, frowning, but holding on to your hand.

Rosemary smiles tightly at the page with a sigh. "That's nice sweetie. Come on, let's get you dressed."

"But I like my pajamas."

"Do what your mother says Lou." You smile down at her, stroking her dark hair back from her face.

"Okay." She sighs dramatically and begins to walk out of the room, but Rosemary is still glaring at Ben.

"Rose-" You begin to say, but she interrupts you.

"She might be able to forgive you, but I'm not going to." Her eyes narrow. "I don't think you're good for her."

Ben is still sitting in his chair at the kitchen table, your hand solidly on his back as if you were making the statement that you weren't going to push him away. It solidified something, showed him how much you were willing to sacrifice to keep him in your life, and again enforced just how much you loved him. If Rosemary hadn't been standing there, he would have sat you on the marble countertop and sucked another mark into your neck. The one he left yesterday was already starting to fade and he wanted to replace it as soon as possible.

But he was still angry, angry that Rosemary wouldn't give him a chance. "Your mother means everything to me." Ben says honestly. "I'm not asking you to forgive me. All I'm asking is that you get to know me first before you-"

"I don't want to get to know you." Rosemary says. "And if you hurt my mother again, I’ll make you wish that you stayed in that fucking lab."

She's gone in an instant, making Ben feel a pain in his chest that he hadn't felt since he spoke to his own father decades ago, on those nights when his dad got so drunk that he couldn't stand up straight and the nights that his father's words rang heavy in Ben's ears. Those nights Ben would get drunk, climb up the tree outside your window, and stumble into your bed, curling into you because you were the only thing in his life that he couldn't stand to lose, couldn't stand to disappoint, and the only thing in his shitty life that made him happy.

"Ben-" He hears you say.

"Mhmm?"

"Look at me."

Ben looks up. He doesn't like the worry in your gaze, doesn't like how your own eyes are just a little rimmed red like you were crying.

"I love you." You whisper. "And she's not going to change that."

"Are you sure?" He barely breathes the words, afraid in his soul to admit them to you, to speak them into the universe.

You drop into his lap, putting your forearms on his shoulders.

"Ben." You drag your fingers through his hair, your touch soothing his anxiety. "You know me enough to know that I don't pull punches. If I didn't want you here, I would make sure you weren't." You press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. "I want you here with me. I don't want you to go ever again. "

They were the words that he wanted you to tell him on the nights he crawled through your bedroom window, the question that he was always afraid to ask. Because he never believed that you could want him even a fraction as much as he wanted you, could love him and want to be with him as much as he wanted to be with you. And yet here you were after all these years after all the shitty things he did accepting him and letting him into your heart.

“Okay.” He leans his forehead against yours for a minute. “What did you talk about?”

“Homelander. And what happened yesterday.” You sigh. “She’s about as thrilled as I thought she’d be with us going after our old team. She was pissed when I told her about Countess the other day but this was worse.” You mutter holding on tight to him. “She’ll get over it. At least… I hope she will.”

“Mhmm.”

“I will say that I’m kind of jealous.”

“About?” Ben is suddenly worried.

What did I do? Did I-

“Every time I tried to get you to draw with me you said no.” Ben watches you frown dramatically. “And here you are with another woman-“

Ben rolls his eyes and shuts you up by closing the distance between your faces. You laugh into his mouth, his tongue finding the rigid edge of your front teeth as you do before you fit your mouth against his and kiss him, your soft lips molding against his in a way that makes a deep seated groan vibrate up through his chest.

“You try saying no to her.” Ben mutters.

“It’s impossible.” You open your eyes to stare at him again, your gaze filled with more love than Ben had ever seen. He’d never seen anyone look at him like that before, none of the other women he’d had in his life had ever looked at him the way you did. And he never wanted you to stop. You looked at him like he was special, treasured, like he was something that you never wanted to stop looking at, like you saw every part of him and refused to turn away.

He'd only seen that once before. He had taken a woman out for drinks, you had been doing an interview that ran late and Ben was trying to pass the time, but at the bar he had seen an older couple sitting in a booth in the corner. Ben couldn't look away from them. They were sitting on the same side of the booth, the man's arm draped over the woman who leaned into him with a wide smile, her gray hair pushed back in an elegant twist, but she looked up at him with such reverence that Ben couldn't help but think of you. When he saw that he left the woman he came with there and went to your apartment, to wait until you got back. And when you had fallen asleep Ben had folded you into his arms and allowed himself to dream that one day you would look at him the same way.

And now years later here you were looking at him as if he was the most precious thing he'd ever seen, the same way you looked at him the morning after your birthday when you told him you loved him.

"But I did tell you that once Lou drew you into the family portrait, you were in." You reach back to pick up the drawing holding it between the two of you so he can see Lou's hard work. "She really captured your frown." You snort, leaning your head against his shoulder while you look at the drawing.

"Shut up." Ben squeezes you, but he can't help but smile at the paper.

And deep down Ben started to believe you when you said that this was his family too, because sitting there with Lou he had felt just as at home as he had with you.

All he had to do was convince Rosemary.

[30 MINUTES AGO] READER POV

I can't believe that she walked in on us IN BED. She's already pissed about me having him here, but why did her finding us together feel like the equivalent of my mother walking in on Ben and me?

You follow behind Rosemary silently, trying not to think of how sad Ben looked when you left him. You would have wanted nothing more than to stay in bed, curled up beside him and make him understand that no matter how much Rosemary wanted you to push him away, you weren't going to leave him.

You could see the fear flashing in his eyes, had seen it last night when he yelled at you. As much as he didn't want to admit it, you knew that Ben was still afraid that you would leave him. And knowing how much you meant to him made you love him even more.

It was a beautiful day. Legend's home was the only one within ten miles, his money well spent to keep himself secluded from the rest of the world. The large trees at the back of his home were tall and strong, their branches curling upward  to the sun as if they wished to worship it.

The sunlight was warm on your shoulders, soaking through your t-shirt and sweat pants as you follow behind your daughter, who was obviously trying to get out of earshot of Ben's supe hearing. You didn't want to break it to her that you'd probably have to drive at least a mile away for Ben's hearing to get a little bit fuzzy.

Finally, just as you reach the crest of trees at the back of the lot she stops and turns back to face you.

She's frowning and waits a minute to begin. "I want you to tell me what happened."

"I did-"

"No. You didn't tell me everything and I want to know exactly  what happened and why you had to fight Homelander."

You bite the inside of your cheek.

There really wasn't an easy way to sugar coat it or really explain it in a way that Rosemary would understand without getting angry.

She almost went ballistic the other day when I told her that I killed Countess and that was a complete accident. Us going after the Twins was not. Us going after the twins was calculated.

"Okay. Before we talk about that, I want you to understand why-"

"Oh you mean why you and Ben-" She seethes his name. "Were going after your old team? The exact thing that you told me you weren't going to do when you came to tell me about Countess?"

"Yes."

"Fine." She leans back against one of the trees, still frowning. "Go on."

"Ben told me what happened in Nicaragua. What Countess said was true, she seduced him to make me angry." You hold up a hand. "And before you say that Ben said those things to me and did those things of his own free will. I know."

Rosemary still doesn't look pleased.

"They betrayed him in Nicaragua. They attacked him and gave him to the Russian military."

"But why?"

"Honestly I'm not sure. I think it's because Ben used to be wild and impulsive and-"

"Used to be?"

"Just listen." You sigh. "He spent forty years in Russia being tortured and experimented on. They put something in his chest-"

"What did they put in his chest?"

"It's like an energy beam." You were giving her the short version about what the beam really did, because you didn't think that now was the best time to say that it might turn supes human. "But that's why we went to see the Twins, because they betrayed him and when Homelander showed up I had to step in."

Rosemary pinches the bridge of her nose and you can tell that she's trying very hard to not get angry. "So let me get this straight, you went to see the Twins, AS SOME KIND OF FUCKED UP REVENGE FANTASY?"

"Well-"

"No. My turn to talk." She holds up a finger like she's admonishing a toddler. "I can't believe that you can't see what's happening."

"See what?"

"You told me that things were different, that he'd changed but he hasn't! He's still the same angry dick! The only person that's changed is you!"

"What?"

"And you don't fucking see it!" Rosemary shouts. "You facing Homelander, you killing Countess, you going after your old team- it's all him! As soon as you got a whiff of Soldier Boy you started to slip back into the person that you were forty fucking years ago."

"That is ridiculous-"

"No it's not. And it's all him. He is the one making you throw the life away that you have made for yourself. He is the one making you use your powers again! He is the one making you go along with his ridiculous revenge plot-"

"Ben is not making me do anything!"

"He is-"

"You have no idea what that's like for people who say that they're your friends betray you. To have people who you thought trusted you give you up like that. They stabbed him in the back Rosie, and they sent him away to another country to be tortured. Do you have any idea what they did to him there? Our old team deserves everything that is coming to them."

"I don't know who you are anymore."

"I am still the same person I was. I am still me."

"No I don't think you are-"

Your jaw tightens. "Look, I understand that you're upset with this whole situation. With having to be here and with me letting Ben back into my life, but he is my family too."

She bristles when you say the word 'family.'

She has to understand that, to know that Ben is my family, is her family.

"Rosemary, do you have any idea what I would do for you if someone tried to hurt you or Lou the way they hurt Ben? What I would do to them for even trying?" You whisper it, but you can see her expression soften as she considers what you were saying. "You were angry with me because I was going to go to Russia alone. You wanted to protect me. And even all this stuff with Ben, you have been trying to protect me from him because you believe that he's going to hurt me again. How is this any different?"

“It is.”

“Why? Because he’s hurt me?” Your eyes lock with hers. “I’ve hurt you by letting him back in my life. Are you saying that now you wouldn’t protect me? That if I asked you to go with me to Russia right now you wouldn't do it.”

She stands there looking at you for a minute, letting what you've asked hang in the air between the two of you. And you know that deep down she understands the need to protect her family the same way you did.

"No. That's not what I'm saying. You depend so much on him and it's only been three days." She sighs. "Mom you were happy before-“

"No I wasn't." You mutter.

The memories of the last three days with Ben proved that. You hadn't realized just how in the hole you were until he walked back into your life. Until you felt how much you loved him and now understood how much he loved you. Waking up with him, falling asleep with him, spending time with him, seeing his smile, hearing him speak, and feeling him beside you all felt different. She was right, you did feel different. You felt lighter and warmer, like you'd mainlined sunshine, like everything else had been colorless until Ben walked back in.

You understood that now you may have tried to be happy, and you were with Rosemary and Lou, but not anywhere else. Being with Ben felt right.

Rosemary eyes you for a minute and then finally sighs.  "I know."

"What?" You weren't expecting her to say that.

"He's been here only three days and you're-" She searches for the word reluctantly. "You're glowing."

"Huh?"

"My entire life I've watched you. I know you. You're my best friend. And I'm not saying that you haven't been happy, but with him you're a different person."

"You've already said that and it's not true. I'm still me-"

"Not about the supe shit." She shakes her head. "The way you look at him, the way you smile, the way whenever he shifts in another direction you do too like somehow you sensed it. And it scares me."

"Why does that scare you?"

"Because if he decides this is all too much and he leaves, I don't want to see the person you become when he does." She frowns and crosses her arms over her chest. "I kinda feel like I've seen that person the last thirty nine years."

"That's ridiculous-"

"You told me about before, told me how you were when he left, I didn't see it, I couldn't imagine it, but now seeing you with him, understanding just how much of a hold he has on your life, understanding how much you love and care for him- mom… I see that the life you made for us, you still weren't you. I'm not sure if you were really completely happy and now seeing you with him, I-"

You place your hands on her cheeks. "Rosie. What happened forty years ago is not your fault. I would not change a single second that I spent with you and Lou. I do not regret the life that I've made with you. I do not regret you. I want you to understand that. The things that happened between me and Ben, even though they were fucked up, does not mean that I don't love you."

"I know that." She whispers, but you're suddenly unsure.

You thought that you'd expressed that to Rosemary enough over the years, that you did not regret having her, that you wouldn't change that decision.

"Rosie please." You hug her, tears burning just behind your eyes. "You are not a mistake. I love you." You pull back to look at her green eyes, the same as Ben's. "And I wouldn't change a single thing about my life. Because maybe I wasn't happy with me, but I was when I was with you and Lou."

"Okay." She pulls back with a sigh.

"I just wish that you'd try to talk to work things out with Ben." You search her face. You told yourself that you weren't going to get involved, but you wanted her to like him. He was her father and he was going to be spending time with you.

"Look I don't want to hate him, and maybe I don't, but it's not your fault." Her expression hardens. "He shouldn't have shouted at you yesterday for that. You didn't make me hate him or make him the villain. It's not your fault." She repeats.

"Maybe it is. I told you all those things about him, I made you focus only on the bad, only on the things that happened towards the end-"

Rosemary takes your hand. "Mom you told me everything. I remember the good things. I remember what your friendship was like. I remember the stories you told me when I was a kid about Ben and you running around Philadelphia."

"Which ones?"

"When he was strong for you when you couldn't be. When he took care of you, when he took you places, when he supported your art. When he made sure that you were happy. I-" She pauses.  "I haven't forgotten those."

"Then why-"

"Because they happened before. When Ben was still Ben and not Soldier Boy. I've seen every single film. Watched every interview, commercial, and even those stupid music videos." Rosemary shakes her head as if trying to rid herself of the image.

"You have?"

"Yes. And I saw the person he became."

You knew what that looked like. Ben really did go all out for the cameras when they were rolling, but when it was the two of you he was just him. And the past two days he had shown that person to you all over again, and you knew deep in your heart that you were trusting him again.

"I know that you don't believe me when I say this, but he really is different."

"Sure."

You sigh. You knew that she wouldn't believe you, that she was just so hell-bent on pushing him away that she wouldn't listen to you. But you knew deep down that he was different, and that he was trying. It was enough for you.

Ben was enough. And the fact that he was willing to throw away all the macho bullshit he had spouted in the past, that he was willing to try to change to be the boy you fell in love with, meant everything to you.

You knew that you had probably forgiven him too early, but you wanted to believe him, and you wanted him to be back in your life.

Rosemary echoes your sigh and looks back up towards the house, stamping her foot in frustration. "Did you at least kick his ass?"

"Who? Ben? I told you that I threw him-" You begin to say suddenly confused.

"No." The ends of her lips twitch into a smile. "Homelander."

You laugh. "Yeah. They don't really make heroes the same way these days."

"Good. He probably fucking liked it."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that." You snort remembering the look he gave you when you threw him against the ground. "But it was kind of cathartic to throw him around. I feel a lot better. Maybe you should give it a try." You narrow your eyes at your daughter. "I mean Homelander not Ben."

Rosemary's lips pull into a mischievous smirk, looking more like Ben than she ever has. "I'll keep that in mind."

READER POV

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, heart racing to catch up as you tug your arms to get them free, but leather restraints hold them in place at your sides. A cold chill seeps up through the metal table you lay on though the thin paper gown that covers your body. Brilliant light from fluorescent square lights above blinds you. And even when you shut them tight the flash of red that stays behind burns through your iris.

Shadows move just on the edge of your vision and you strain your ears to hear them speak, to understand why you're here, why you're strapped to this table, but the only thing that remains is a garbled sound broken only by the rapid ding of a heart monitor.

Where am I? How did I-

A sharp pain deep inside of you makes your breath catch, an uncomfortable sensation between your legs. You try to kick out, but your legs are strapped down, pried apart and bent at the knee. Your pleas for release are slurred as if you've forgotten how to speak.

Someone brings their hand down over your mouth and you bite down, blood and flesh sticking between your teeth and the person strikes your face savagely.

The shadows that pass over where you lay on your back are impossible to bring faces to and their muffled conversations are just out of reach.

And when you open your mouth to scream everything goes black.

"Y/n!" You hear Ben shout as you come to, his hands on your shoulders shaking you from sleep, but you can't move, can't speak still stuck in whatever hell-scape that your mind designed. "Please Sweetheart." He's leaning down over you, eyes wide with fear and anxiety, eyebrows pulled together. "Wake up."

"Ben-" You croak, breath coming in gasps, eyes blinking to focus on him above you.

Ben breathes out a sigh of relief, pulling you up into his arms and tucking your head beneath his chin.

"Ben." You say again, tears falling from your eyes sobs shaking your shoulders, breath coming in gasps as you cling to him, holding on to him so tight you think you hear his back crack.

“Shhh. It’s alright Sweetheart, I’m here. I’m right here.” Ben murmurs into the top of your head, rubbing his hand down your spine.

It wasn’t the first time you’d had the nightmare, but it was the first time you’d had it in forty years. It had started a few years before Ben had been taken. You don’t know why, but you always assumed that it was stress of being a hero or your heartache over Ben refusing to see you as more than a friend, that finally you cracked. But you didn't know why that particular scenario. The only time that you'd seen something remotely similar was the day that you received your injection of Compound V and you figured maybe your mind created the dream to haunt you.

And now it’s back because I’m stressed about all this shit with Homelander.

You inhale the familiar scent of Ben’s cologne, tears soaking into the front of his black shirt, but it does little to calm your heartbeat. You sob again, arms wrapped around his neck holding him tighter to you as you shudder.

“It’s alright. I’m right here.” Ben says again. His hand trails gently down your spine up and down in a soothing motion to calm you down.

He’d comforted you before after the same nightmare, he knew exactly what you saw each time, but he also was confused as to why you saw it. In his arms you felt safe, as if no one else could touch you or pull you away. You wondered if Ben felt the same way when you held him.

“Shh.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, pushing back the strands of hair that clung to your sweaty forehead.

You shudder again, sweat sticking your shirt to your back, but your heartbeat begins to slow as you take in another breath.

“Same dream?” Ben whispers.

“Yeah.” You breathe. “I haven’t had it since you were-“ You choke on the words again as the images from what you saw come back. The mumbled voices of the figures fading in and out of your ears.

“Did you ever figure out what it was?”

“No. I-“ You inhale. “I don’t know. I-“

Your body shakes again as you cling to Ben, trying to forget the dream that never seemed to go away. “I don’t know.”

READER POV

In the days that followed Butcher and Hughie looked for Mindstorm's last known location, and Rosemary tried to stay as far away from Ben as she could, which wasn't too far because she refused to leave Lou alone with him. And Lou kept wanting to do more and more with Ben.

But you didn't mind that, because it meant that Rosemary got to sit front row to Ben trying to get more comfortable around Lou.

And try he was. He sat with her each day while she drew after breakfast, watched you and her paint side by side on Legend's back porch, waited patiently while you braided Lou's hair back from her face, and even indulged her in the occasional game of Go Fish that Ben always seemed to lose. But he didn't mind or at least not that you could tell.

"I understand that you all have this kind of fucked up fantasy when you go after Mindstorm," Rosemary sighed leaning back on Legend's dark brown leather couch with a beer in her hand. "But I still don't see how this is going to help us with Homelander."

Butcher shrugs taking a sip from his own beer bottle, brooding in the chair across from her. Hughie mirrors the shrug and reaches for the last slice of pizza in the ornate glass coffee table in front of the couch.

You were sitting on the couch beside her, your legs folded up underneath you with a mug full of scotch clutched between your hands, while Ben stretched out beside you nursing his own glass of whiskey.

In all the years that you had known Legend, there never seemed to be a shortage of booze. Ben respected that.

Lou was sleeping soundly upstairs, you kept checking on her every few minutes with your supe hearing, but so far she hadn't woken up.

"Because those two wanted us to go after their old team first." Butcher gestures to Ben and you with his bottle.

"At least we don't have a hard-on for Homelander." Ben frowns. "Can't tell if you want me to kill him or if you want to fuck him."

"Ben-" You sigh.

You had tried not to think about Homelander over the past few days, but it was unavoidable. You bite the inside of your cheek remembering what it was like to fight him, what it was like to hold him by the throat and stare into his nearly black eyes.

He had been pissed. You knew that, but you hadn't expected to feel so weird when you looked at him. You remember his blonde hair, the sharp smell of hair dye, the strong cut of his jaw-

Your thumb rubs the side of the mug you're holding. There was something else about him though, something that you couldn't place, something that when you looked at him you felt that you had forgotten something. Something important that nagged and tugged at the back of your mind.

But what? I've seen him before, at least not in person, and definitely not that close. Only in those pathetic interviews on T.V, on those stupid energy drinks…

You think again about the grip you had on his throat, remember the angular planes of his face.

"That doesn't fucking help." Rosemary rolls her eyes and you look up at your daughter.

She really does act like Ben even if he wasn't around through her childhood.

You think to yourself, your eyes tracing her face, looking at the soft dusting of cinnamon colored freckles over her cheeks that she usually hid under makeup and the nose that always reminded you of your father.

You think about Homelander again. But what did I forget? What about him made me-

Your entire body freezes as you stare at Rosemary's face, the face that you'd looked at for the past forty years.

No. That's impossible-

You can't breathe, can't think. Something cold clamps over your heart the chill soaking into your bones like you've sunk into deep water. All other sounds in the room fade into a muddled haze as you sit there and stare at her, eyes widening, heartbeat beginning to thud loudly in your ears.

Oh. My. Fucking. G-

The mug shatters in your hand, glass and alcohol going everywhere, but you don't feel anything. Only the sense of dread, and the chill that spreads with the coming storm and the understanding of what it is you've forgotten.

And you hoped to God that you were wrong.

A/N: I'M BACK BABY! Honestly after a week off I am doing alot better. Thank you everyone for the love and support. I hope y'all liked this chapter. It's moving the story right on along and the next chapter is going to be BIG and BLOODY. But we'll make it through.

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[lucy90712]

Finding out you’re pregnant

A/n: Happy new year guys. As promised for the new year this is the start of a pregnancy mini series. New parts will be out when I can get them done hope you enjoy ~ Lucy 

Gavi: 

Over the past week or so I haven't been feeling right I've felt nauseous most days and just overall not myself. I have also missed my period which only really points to one thing but I don't want to believe it. Pablo and I are still so young sure we've been together for nearly 3 years now but having kids isn't something we've talked about much. We both want them but it was always an in the future thing so for it to maybe be happening now has me panicking. I know I should take a test to find out for sure but I'm scared because once I know the result it becomes real and if I'm pregnant I have to tell Pablo. 

Today though I feel like I can't put it off anymore I have to find out and deal with the consequences whatever they are. I can't do it alone though so I went out and got a test as Mikky is coming over with Miles and I figured she'd be a good person to have around when I find out as she's been through it all. When she arrived I told her how I'd been feeling and my plan and she was encouraging me straight away telling me that everything would be fine. After I took the test she waited with me and even looked at the result first as I was too scared even though I already knew what it would be. Once my suspicions were confirmed and I knew I was pregnant the conversation turned to how to tell Pablo, Mikky suggested doing something simple like just giving him the test in a box so that's what we set up. 

When Pablo finally got home Mikky left leaving just the two of us. Being alone with him I felt so nervous I mean what is he going to think he doesn't often get mad at me but I can see this being one of the rare times he does. Surely he doesn't want to be tied down by a baby when his career is just starting out I know he wants to enjoy being young but I don't know if he can do that for much longer. 

"Are you ok you've been extra quiet ever since I got home" Pablo said 

"I'm fine but I have something for you" I said handing him the box 

"You're pregnant" he whispered clearly shocked 

"Yeah I am and I know we said we weren't ready for kids so I'm sorry and I get if you want nothing to do with me now" I rambled

"Hey it's ok I'm actually really excited we're starting our own family sure it's sooner than I imagined but I can't wait to see this baby grow" he said giving me a kiss which made me feel a lot better 

Pedri: 

Pedri and I have talked about having kids. Starting a family is something we both want but neither of us are quite ready yet or at least we weren't but now we might have to be. I've been feeling quite sick the last few days and straight away my mind went to the day Pedri and I weren't as careful as we usually are which of course has come back to haunt us. I wanted to ignore it and at least wait for my period to be late but Pedri wanted to know now and I'm not going to say no. 

To find out we needed a test as I don't keep them on hand as we are always careful so I don't keep tests for emergencies but maybe I should. Pedri wanted to come in the store with me but he also didn't want us to be seen and for someone to put our business all over social media. So it was just me who went in wearing sunglasses and a mask so no one recognised me either. It was so nerve wracking buying the test especially when the cashier wished me luck I felt like a teenager sneaking around behind their parents back. On the drive home Pedri held my hand the entire way trying to help calm me down which was a sweet gesture but it didn't really help. 

Back in the comfort of our own home I went straight to the downstairs bathroom to take the test. Pedri stood with me as we waited the 5 minutes for the results his arms were around my waist and my head rested on his chest as I thought about what the result might mean for us. It all feels like a lot but having Pedri there made me feel a lot better as it felt like we were truly in this together. The timer I set scared the both of us as we were in our own little world but quickly we were brought back to reality. As I went to flip the test my hands were shaking so Pedri put his hand on top of mine and we flipped the test together. Two very obvious lines stared back at us both which I thought would make me feel nervous but I was actually overwhelmed with excitement. 

"I can't believe it I'm actually so excited" Pedri said 

"Me too I thought I'd be more scared but I'm actually so happy" I said 

"Clearly we were ready to take this step and just needed the push to realise it" he said 

Jude: 

Jude has always said he doesn't want kids and I was on board with that as having kids isn't something I've ever been crazy about. It isn't something I ever ruled out completely as you know people can change their minds but in my mind that was at least 5-10 years in the future if ever. Recently though I've just felt off like somethings not right so when my period was a few days late my mind went straight to the worst case scenario. Any normal person would probably tell their partner and they would figure it out together but I'm terrified to tell Jude in case he leaves me as he has made it very clear multiple times that having kids isn't something he wants. 

This fear is exactly why I went and got a test and took it on my own without anyone knowing. I could've talked to one of my friends but I didn't want anyone to possibly let it slip to Jude as I need to be the one to tell him. Of course the result was exactly as I feared it would be I was very much pregnant. I cried for hours after I found out as I knew I had to tell Jude and deal with whatever the consequences will be which will probably end with me doing this alone when Jude ultimately decides to leave me. Realistically I should've told him that day to get it over with but I couldn't handle it mentally so I put it off. 

It has now been over a week and I am still hiding this big secret from Jude, I have wanted to tell him I really have but the right moment hasn't come up yet. He is starting to get a bit suspicious though as he keeps asking me if I'm ok and giving me weird looks when I say I'm fine. As I've waited so long I've built up this moment so much that I'm so scared for it to actually happen. 

"Hi love how are you?" Jude asked as he arrived home from training 

"I'm good how was your day?" I asked back 

"What's up with you I can tell you are keeping something from me please just tell me what it is whatever's wrong we can figure it out together" he nearly begged 

"Please don't be mad but I'm pregnant" I finally blurted out 

"Wow that's not what I was expecting" he said 

"I'm sorry just please don't leave me" I cried 

"I'm not going to leave you I promise I just wasn't expecting that I know I said I didn't want kids but for some reason I feel different with you I'm ready to step up and for us to do this together I'm actually kind of excited" he said 

"I love you" was all I managed to say 

"I love you more" he said 

Joao: 

Joao and I have been together for a few years and engaged for a year now and after moving to London we had a discussion about our future together and ultimately we decided that both of us were ready to take the next step and start a family. Even though we said we were ready we agreed that we didn't want to rush the process at least not right now so we wanted to take a more casual approach. I stopped taking my birth control but I haven't been tracking my cycle or doing anything special as I'm under the impression that it will happen when it happens. 

Over the past few weeks I've been feeling really ill I just have no energy and I have been feeling nauseous most days. To start with I just got on with my life as I thought it was just a little cold or something but as time has gone on and I've not got any better I realised it must be something more. Joao made me call off work the past few days to rest and see if that makes me feel any better but that hasn't helped either. After another day of barely leaving our bed Joao suggested I take a pregnancy test just to be sure as then if it's not that he will definitely make me go to the doctors. 

Luckily I have pregnancy tests in the bathroom for situations like this so Joao helped me out of bed and I took the test with him waiting for me right outside. I sat the test on my bedside table and we just waited. Joao had me sat in his lap on the edge of the bed stroking my hair but we sat in silence while I thought about whether I could actually be pregnant. It hasn't been long at all since I stopped taking my birth control and I didn't think it would happen this quickly but if it did that would be really exciting. The 5 minute timer Joao set passed rather quickly and suddenly it was time to learn if our lives will be changed forever or if I'm just really run down. 

"I'm pregnant" I said not quite believing what the test in my hand read

"I can't believe it who knew it would happen so quickly" Joao said 

"I know we haven't even been trying properly" I said 

"At least we know why you have been feeling so awful now" Joao laughed 

Ruben: 

Ruben and I have been trying for a baby for almost a year now. To start with we were trying more casually but then I started tracking my cycle and we did things properly but that didn't work either. We have tried every tip and trick and still no positive pregnancy test. There has been times that I've had symptoms like nausea and I've even been late on my period a few times but still every month I'm greeted with a negative test. It's been hard as I want nothing more than to start a family with Ruben and I just feel so useless that I can't get pregnant like every other woman I know can. 

Again this month I've had some symptoms like being extra tired and not liking food I usually love but I don't want to get my hopes up as I've been in this position before and only been let down. It's always difficult not to get a bit excited at the prospect of finally being pregnant but I don't think I can handle another disappointment at least not night now. The amount of times I have wanted to just give up have only increased especially recently, this whole process is just making me feel awful and I don't know if it is worth it especially right now. 

Ruben wants me to take a test again and I can see why but I've been putting it off to avoid the disappointment. I promised him that today I would take a test but we agreed that if it was negative that we'd take a break from trying and I wouldn't take another test for a while just to protect my mental health. Of course Ruben came back from training super excited but I just can't get myself to feel the same way. Despite that I still took the test and just gave it to Ruben as I simply don't want to see the one line I've become accustomed to seeing. 

"I-it's positive" Ruben chocked out a few minutes later 

"What?" I questioned 

"It's positive we're going to have a baby" Ruben said handing me the test so I could see for myself 

He wasn't wrong there was two clear lines on the test. Neither of us could stop the tears from flowing as Ruben picked me up and spun me round which made me feel quite sick but I couldn’t care less I was just so happy this nightmare has finally ended with the result we wanted.