#WE'RE FINALLY AT THE RECONCILIATION PART | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

takamimami · 21 days ago

Note

(Angst for the 100 follower event)

Eustass Kidd having a massive argument with us over his temper and how he's too loud and then when we try and get some fresh air we accidentally fall off the ship 🙏 (The last part is a joke-- I was thinking actually like him being in denial about him being too much sometimes which causes him to say shit he did not mean to say!! And then Quincy advises us to dump his ass which we do and then we're both just sad and lonely, then the entire crew goes out drinking completely unaware of what has happened and we get drunk and end up kissing some random guy in front of Kidd and he gets angry then hate sex then apologies then reconciliation!!!)

Yes I am rather drunk whilst I am writing this.

Hello, hello, I have finally shut off my video games long enough to finish this prompt, lol! I giggled out loud when your request came in, just so you know. Additionally, I struggled to combine all three of the prompts you suggested - so I took some creative liberties and split the last two prompts between Kidd and Law. I hope that is alright :3 As promised, this is the smutty pt. 2 to THIS request - still a bit angsty but mostly hurt/comfort with some makeup sex :3 I hope I did your idea justice!!

Kidd/Law x F!Reader - NSFW - "Don't touch me!" (Kidd) and "Please, tell me you're okay." (Law)

STORY UNDER THE CUT - MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 🔞

CW: SMUT; dub-con (kidd), possessive and dom kidd vibes, hand necklace (kidd) both of them are meanies :3, spanking (law), law fucks you on his desk, kidd calls you 'princess', crew mate!reader ---word count ~1.8k each

You had managed to avoid your captain for three days, and the crew finally had enough of your moping around the ship on the fourth day when you finally docked at your new destination. They forced convinced to you to get dressed up and come into town with all of them, shoving drink after drink in your face as everyone tries to get you to let loose and enjoy your night. It works for most of the night until you get a little too drunk and end up kissing a random stranger in the middle of the bar, your captain’s eyes angrily watching the entire occurrence and storming off immediately after.

You regret the entire situation the moment you see the hurt in your captain’s eyes, and the alcohol in your veins clouds your better judgment as you take off after him, following after him and his vice-captain as they make their way back to the ship. You sober up slightly on the walk back, and as you approach the gangway you can hear your captain’s angry voice echoing into the night.

🌷

His voice was angrier than you’d ever heard it, enough to make you falter a step as you heard him arguing back and forth with Killer as you walked up onto the deck.

“I don’t give a damn how drunk she was,” he seethes, his back facing you as he continues yelling. “She’s fucking delusional if she thinks I want anything to do with a skank like her! She can go whore herself to the whole fucking island, for all I care!”

Your stomach turned at the malice in his tone, and Killer puts his arms up over his head as he sees you watching and listening from the edge of the deck.

“Kidd,” he says soothingly, trying to calm him down, “You’re just upset. Don’t say things you’ll regret later.”

Kidd notices Killer’s gaze looking over his shoulder and he turns around to meet your bleary eyes, his own amber eyes softening as he takes in the expression on your face.

You’d already beat yourself up about the kiss on the walk back to the ship, but hearing those harsh words leave Kidd’s lips felt like a knife to your gut. The tears that burned your eyes caused you to turn your face from him, wiping them away before they could fall as Kidd moved in your direction.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, reaching a hand out to you as he approaches. “I didn’t…”

“Cause you’re some fucking saint, right Kidd?” you retort back at him, masking the hurt you were feeling with anger nearly matching the intensity of his own moments ago.

You see his eye twitch and his lip curl at your accusation, his step faltering slightly before he continues approaching you, slowing down ever so slightly.

“Never claimed to be a saint, princess,” he growls, “But I’m not the one running around kissing strangers after telling someone they love them.”

You feel the burning in your eyes rise again, his smug tone making your lip quiver as you try to keep the angry ember burning inside of you.

“You didn’t ask me to love you, remember? Maybe I’m trying not to anymore.”

Kidd’s hand reaches out to you and yanks you towards him by your forearm, his grip rough as he leans down so his face is a mere inch from yours.

“And how is that working for you?”

You tug your arm away from his grip, and he lets you go with an evil grin, eyes ablaze as he watches you back away from him. He stalks towards you again and reaches like he’s going to grab you again, but you swat at his hand defiantly.

“Don’t touch me!”

Kidd’s hand flinches back at the tone in your voice, stopping mid-stride he stares at you intently, gauging your reaction as your chest rises and falls with your heavy breathing.

After a few moments, Kidd resumes his steps, closing enough of the distance between the two of you to where you can feel his shallow breaths ghosting over your collarbone.

His smirk returns as he hears the slight hitch in your breathing, noting the twinkle of desire in your eye as he hovers over you.

“You sure you don’t want me to touch you, princess,” he croons, his fingertips ghosting over the skin of your arm as he defies your earlier command.

You shudder at the feeling, your throat going dry as his fingers send a shiver down your back. He traces his fingers up your arm and down the front of you, stopping to toy with the waistband of your skirt as he drops his eyes to where his hand is.

“I bet that sweet little cunt of yours will tell me a different story,” he murmurs, dropping his head down and connecting his lips to your neck, placing wet kisses along your jaw as he slips his fingers down into your panties.

He hisses at the feeling of you, and you flush at just how easy it is for him to slip a finger inside of you, a feeble moan falling from your lips as he begins pumping it in and out of you.

You’re grateful Killer had taken his leave once he felt the shift in the conversation, biting down on your lip as you try to stifle the moans Kidd is so effortlessly pulling from you. You feel your body arch into his touch as he slips in another finger, your hips bucking as he presses his thumb to your throbbing clit.

Just when you feel the pressure begin to build in your core, Kidd pulls away from you entirely, holding your angry gaze as he brings his fingers to his lips.

“Too bad you don’t want me to touch you,” he purrs, turning and walking away from your panting form.

You snap out of the shock after he gets a few steps away, your own lip curling into a wicked grin as you call out after him.

“Maybe I’ll go have the guy at the bar touch me. His kiss was decent enough.”

Kidd’s hands are on you in an instant, pressing you down by your neck against a nearby table as he looms over you, eyes blazing.

“I fucking dare you.”

You feel the damp heat pooling in your legs as he stands between them, Kidd’s free hand tugging at his pants as he pulls out his cock and teases the head of it against your clothed cunt - pulling the fabric to the side an teasing your entrance a moment later. You both hiss at the sensation, and Kidd’s hips snap into you hastily, a strangled cry escaping your throat as he bullies himself into your warmth and immediately sets a punishing pace.

Your back scraps against the wood of the table as Kidd fucks into you, hand still holding you in place by the throat as he growls from above you. The sudden sting of his intrusion quickly melts into pleasure as he angles his hips to hit that sweet spot inside you.

“You think his cock would’ve felt as good as mine, hm? You think he would’ve been able to make you scream like I can?”

Your only reply is a throaty moan as Kidd pumps his hips into yours, your vision going blurry as the pressure in your core begins to intensify. Kidd’s hand tightens around your throat as you close your eyes, causing them to snap back open and meet his amber orbs.

“Answer me.”

You shiver as he growls out his command, his metal hand reaching down to rub harsh circles on your clit.

“No!” you shutter, the volume of your voice rising with each hard thrust of Kidd’s hips.

Kidd’s response is a grunted laugh, his pace slowing as he feels your walls begin to flutter around him.

“Tell me who this pussy belongs to,” he commands, his slow and deliberate thrusts punctuating his words.

You roll your eyes and bark out a laugh. “Fuck you,” you grit out between your teeth.

Kidd barks a laugh back, his mocking tone riling you up even more as he presses his hips to yours.

“Isn’t that what we're doing, princess?” A quick snap of his hips and you hear the table creak from the pressure. “Tell me.”

You feel yourself involuntarily clamp down around Kidd’s length, his hand tightening in reaction as he stops his movements altogether and ruts his hips against yours, the movement not nearly enough to satiate you.

You whine desperately as you try to buck your hips against him, his torturous stare boring into you as he holds you still.

“It’s yours,” you gasp out, exasperated and desperate to feel him moving inside you again.

“Hmm?” He croons, and your cheeks flush as you meet his heated gaze.

“It’s yours,” you say louder, more conviction in your voice as you see the triumphant grin curl onto Kidd’s lips.

He pulls himself out of you, nearly leaving you completely, before slamming himself back into you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix as he pulls you to the edge of the table and pistons in and out of you. His metal finger returns to your clit and your moans vibrate through your chest as the cord in your abdomen tightens.

“Come for me, princess,” he hums from above you, losing himself in your grip as he feels his own orgasm rear its head.

You do as he commands, your orgasm washing over you as your eyes screw shut, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you feel your voice go hoarse from calling out for him. You claw at the edge of the table as Kidd rocks into you, each wave of your orgasm causing your cunt to grip him tighter and tighter as his thrusts grow slower and sloppier, finally coming to a halt after he’s spent. Your labored breaths are the only thing that can be heard as soft waves rock against the ship until you slowly start to hear voices approaching in the distance - signaling the return of your crew.

Kidd wordlessly scoops you up into his arms, whisking you away to his quarters below the deck before anyone has a chance to see the two of you. Once inside, he sets you down gently on the bed, leaning over you and keeping his head nuzzled in your neck as he contemplates the next thing to say to you.

“I’m sorry.”

The last two words you were expecting leave his mouth, and you feel a lump form in your throat as he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“For everything.”

Your mind flashes back to the heated words you two had exchanged over the past week, the tenderness in Kidd’s voice a soothing balm over the wounds that had been opened up in the process. You bring a hand to his face and stroke the soft skin of his cheek, his face leaning into your touch as your eyes haze over with sleep.

“You can continue apologizing in the morning,” you muse, a yawn escaping your lips as you cuddle down into his blanket, feeling him crawl into the bed behind you and pull you towards his chest.

“Does that mean I’m not forgiven yet?”

You chuckle lightly, rolling around to face him and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Nope,” you say with a wink, smiling at him teasingly. “You’re gunna have to do better than that.”

He blinks down at you unexpectedly, your challenge settling into his mind as his devilish grin returns. He flips you onto your back and tugs at your clothes, no longer willing to let you sleep until he proves to you just how sorry he really was.

🐯

“I’m fine, Bepo,” Law growls, dismissing him with a wave of his hand as he continues further into the ship. “I don’t care what she does, she’s the last of my concerns right now.”

Bepo waddles behind him wearily as he stomps towards his office, your quiet footsteps following them from a distance as you try to muster up the courage to face Law in his current state.

“Are you sure about that… Captain?”

You hear Bepo’s weary voice as you approach the door, your footsteps coming to a halt just outside the office. You barely hear the grumbled response from Law as your heart begins thundering in your chest, swallowing hard as you will your legs to move you forward, stopping in the doorway as your heavy eyes look across the room to your captain.

His eyes take you in, and you try to mask the weariness on your face as he finally meets your gaze. He only holds it for a moment, before a scowl curls up onto his lips and he looks away, pulling his hat from his head and running his fingers through his hair.

“I-I’m gunna go…” Bepo stutters, and you glance at him with pleading eyes, trying to beg him not to abandon you. But he’s gone an instant later - leaving you in an uncomfortable tension hanging in the air.

Neither of you speak for a long while, neither of you able to find the right thing to address first.

Law huffs out a deep sigh as he collapses into his chair, resting his elbows on his desk and clawing at his hair again.

“Did you need something, Y/N?” was all he could think to say, the edge in his voice teetering on annoyance as he struggled to grapple with the chaos of emotions in his head.

You clenched your fists tighter to your sides as you struggled to breathe, words escaping you as you searched your brain for something to say that wasn’t laced with the venom you wanted to spew back at him. You wanted to scream at him - wanted to make him realize the hurt he’d caused you to feel the last few days. You supposed the kiss with a random stranger had succeeded in that partially, but now he had the audacity to be the one acting upset?

Your mind raced a mile a minute as Law sat staring at you, his brows furrowed as he watched your gaze turn from sorrowful to… angry? There was something sparking through the haze in your eyes that he couldn’t put his finger on, and he braced himself as your chest rose with a deep inhale.

But instead of a snide comment, a feeble laugh was all you could muster as you loosed the breath you held, feeling your shoulders relax as you shut your eyes and turned on your heels.

“Y/N,” Law’s voice held a commanding tone as he called out to you, and you paused mid-stride to glance over your shoulder at him.

To your surprise he had began to rise from his seat, and as you turned to face him once more he crossed the room in a few long strides, stopping less than a foot away from you. He reaches out an arm to you and you flinch away from him, his hand dropping when he sees your reaction.

“Are you… alright?”

You huff out another laugh at the question, and you swear Law flinches at your reaction. His brows furrow in irritation momentarily before softening again, and he puffs out a sigh before speaking again.

“I… I realize I may have been a bit… harsh with you the other day,” he says through gritted teeth, as if it pained him to admit he may have been in the wrong. “And I realize that you only pushed as hard as you did because you care.” He raises a hand to the back of his head and casts his gaze around the room, avoiding eye contact as he tries to find any words to ease the pain still lingering in your expression.

Still you remained silent, sensing how every non-response sent his pulse sky rocketing. You were unsure why, but something about the way you were effortlessly able to get under his skin had a smirk threatening to curl onto your lips as he leaned closer, eyes softening even more as he reaches a hand toward your chin.

You don’t flinch away from him this time, allowing him to pull your chin closer to his with his index finger, the touch gentle as his breath tickles the side of your neck.

“Say something,” he pleads, his voice barely more than a whisper now, “Please. Tell me you’re alright, tell me you hate me - say anything, Y/N-ya.” His voice trembles a bit as he says your name, and any smugness you had felt dissipates at the sound.

You feel your lip quiver as you try to figure out what to say - what you want to say - and the two of you remain that way for a few more heartbeats before you finally break the silence.

“You… are a real asshole when you’re angry… you know that?” You drawl, sensing Law relax a bit at the smirk you offer him for a quick moment before your lips fall back into a harsh line.

Law huffs out a deep chuckle, the sound vibrating in your chest as he leans his head down towards your ear, kicking the door shut behind him before leading you further into the office.

“Says the girl who just threw herself at a stranger after making sure I was watching her every move.”

Your back stiffened as you felt the edge of Law’s desk press into the back of your legs, papers rustling behind you from the slight disturbance you’d caused.

“I did no such thing,” you said defiantly, though your voice came out less convincing than you had wanted it to. You swallowed hard as Law pulled his head back to look at you, his eyes a shade darker than they had been a moment ago as they watch the bob of your throat.

“Keep lying to me, and I’ll have to punish you, Y/N-ya.”

Your thighs squeezed together at the threat, and you curse whatever broken part of you causes you to melt at the sight of your captain like this - at the condescending tone in his voice.

“I’m not,” you whisper, pressing your body against his as he watches you through heavy lids, “But I’ll gladly take whatever punishment you deem necessary, Captain.”

He hisses as you reach down and palm him through his pants, his considerable length pressing against his pants painfully. He grabs your wrist to halt your movements and your eyes fly up to meet his heated glare and biting your lip as a growl escapes his lips.

“Turn around.”

The command in his voice has heat pooling in your core as you turn and bend over the edge of his desk, not caring what papers you scatter to the floor in the process. Law silently lurks behind you, running a hand over your ass tenderly before pulling the waistband of your bottoms down, exposing yourself to him. He growls again, this time rubbing the flesh of your ass harshly before lifting his hand and bringing it down onto your ass cheek with a sharp slap.

“That,” he groans, and you hear him fidget with the buttons on his pants, “Is for disobeying your captain’s orders in the first place.”

Another slap to your opposite ass cheek has you crying out at the sensation, the sting of his hand immediately being soothed by his fingers as he kneads the swollen area.

“That… is for arguing with me and then avoiding me for three days.”

You wince as his hand raises again, a whine escaping his lips as he tears the underwear from your legs and pulls your back up and flush to his chest, his erection pressing between your ass cheeks as he breathes harshly along the shell of your ear.

“You’re too loud,” he groans, balling your underwear up and shoving it into your mouth as a make-shift gag. “Keep quiet or I’ll cut this punishment short.”

You nod your head as he leans you back over the desk, tracing your entrance with the tip of his cock as you bite back a moan. Law grabs your forearms and crosses them over your back, gripping both of them in one hand as he presses himself into your warmth, a muffled moan escaping your lips despite your best efforts.

“Quiet,” Law snaps, pulling himself from you and laying another smack to your ass as you feel tears begin to prickle at the corners of your eyes. Your breathing is labored as he presses back into you, this time sinking into your walls completely, the stretch of him inside you causing your eyes to water further as the slight pain melts into pleasure as he sets a punishing pace as he moves in and out of you.

The sound of your skin slapping together fills the office, the sound accompanied by Law’s husky grunts and your muffled moans. You really did try to contain them, but the feeling of him moving inside you was too overwhelming for you to care about the sounds coming out of you.

Law yanks your arms back, causing your back to arch up off the desk as he leans forward and wraps an arm around your shoulders. The new angle has you leaning back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he feels your walls tighten around him.

“You never know when to shut the hell up, do you?”

Your defiant response is to let out an even louder cry as he releases the hand around your arms and wraps it around you to thumb at your clit, chasing after his own release as you tumble into your orgasm. You feel yourself clamp around him tightly as the waves of pleasure have your vision blurring, your mouth going dry as you try to cry out his name. Law hears your attempts and pulls the underwear from your mouth, his cock twitching when he’s finally able to hear his name fall from your lips. You feel his body tenses and his legs begin to shake as Law drags his cock hastily through your walls, until finally his thrusts grow sloppy and his own orgasm washes over him. Each grunt of your name sends a wave of goosebumps over your skin as he comes to a still behind you, peppering your shoulder with gentle kisses as he lifts his hand and the two of your bodies are replaced by pillows inside his office.

Back in Law’s quarters, he pulls you into his arms and kisses you needily, trying to convey all the emotions he’s wrestled with over the past few days with the action.

“Just so you know,” he says when he finally pulls away, his eyes falling to your puffy and swollen lips as he licks his own, “I do want you here. I always want you here, Y/N-ya.”

You feel your chest tighten as you think back to the heated words the two of you had exchanged days prior, letting out a small sigh of relief at the reassuring words you’d been waiting to hear. “Even if I don’t know how to shut the hell up?”

Law grins, a devilish twinkle sparkling in his eye as he dips his head back down to yours.

“Especially because of that.”

100 Follower Event Masterlist ✨come say hai :3✨

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hollyhomburg · 10 months ago

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.65)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The truth always comes out one way or another, and with Jimin temporarily whisked away for surgery- it's up to you and yoongi to answer Namjoon's questions.

Tags: Angst, blood, guns, murder, discussions of morality, descriptions of dead bodies, discussion of past spousal abuse, confessions, hurt/comfort, sickfic, hospitals, reconciliation, vmin focus, Trans! tae, Everybody lives nobody dies,

W/c: 15.0k

A/N: this chapter is a bit heavy on the dialogue but! sorry that this chapter came out when it did, we're finally here! sorry for the break in chapters- I got some not great news about a family members health and wanted to spend some extra time with them over the holidays.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

The abandoned industrial building rises without warning from the mist and fog. You could almost call in lonely. Although it has its comfort in its stillness, the same way that monsters that do not move do not instill fear. A foe vanquished but not forgotten.

The body. The dust. The puddle of blood by the door is more than enough evidence for plausible deniability. The faint splatter of it here and there like confetti left after a parade, or flower petals that fall in spring and pile up like snow.

Moonbyul stands in the doorway, like a pagan in a house of God. Out of place and out of mind. Dark coat unblemished by dust or blood. She doesn’t stoop to touch the ground or try and clean up the evidence from Jimin and Jin’s misbegotten hours here. She doesn’t think Hobi’s name, although she knows it.

God does she know it.

She’s poured over all the files that her men have collected about your pack for weeks now. Searching out weaknesses like a snake searches rabbit holes for soft fur and an easy meal. She’d spent the most time lingering over Tae’s file. The photos that shift from short hair to long, lipstick that she finds too pink and distasteful.

Red is better color.

She'd spent a long time pouring over Jin’s too because she’d needed to. Jimin and her cousins had been glossed over. She already knows enough about them to last a lifetime.

But only one file had given her paper cuts. Revenge on paper is not as sweet as it should be.

She doesn’t need to read that file anymore. Although she hears the words that the youth said so many months ago on repeat, you and Hobi in the coffee shop caught only on security camera. “I think I heard something I shouldn’t have”. As well as the ones that followed.

Contrary to popular belief, Moonbyul doesn’t like killing. She views it only as a necessity. She looks at the blood on the floor without any disgust. It’s been a long time since she’s cleaned up any alpha's mess, and she’s not going to start now.

She looks down at the blood and smiles. It’s a rare thing- seeing her smile. It’s different from her grin that bares her teeth. Sharped incisors changed and honed just before she’d been appointed the head of the moon family.

She remembers her mother's words when she’d looked at them in the mirror for the first time, She remembers that she could still taste the file they'd used to carve them. Metallic, like blood on her tongue.

“All the most dangerous alphas have fangs; you’ll need to learn to use them if you want to fill your father’s shoes.”

Familial death is more of a rite of passage than a time for mourning in the family. A time when power shifts and secrets get covered up or aired out. Like the moon waxing and waning.

Moonbyul hadn’t been born with fangs, the way alphas always are. Moonbyul hadn’t been born with a lot of things.

A smiling Moonbyul is either a happy or a bloodthirsty one. And a happy Moonbyul, when properly stroked- means they get privileges.

Privileges in their pack, amount to small little things most of the time. A night where they don’t have to take the heat inducers. A night where they can wear comfy sweats instead of the lingerie and stifling silk. But if they're extra sweet and good they get better things. A free evening where they can see their families as long as they come home before sunrise.

“Do you think he’s dead?” Solar is dressed as her clone today, with stockings pulled up her milky thighs flashing beneath the long hem. Extra extra cute in the way that she loops her arm into Moonbyuls and pouts. as if she's upset that her alpha is paying more attention to the murder than her.

She still smells faintly of sex, moonbyul, and her own ginger scent. Not like fresh cut- the kind that baked goods have around Christmas time.

Moonbyul smiles, rapping her long nails against where Solar's arm is curled around hers clinging to her as if her life depends on it. It does- Moonbyul and her both know it does. But Solar has always been a good pet. She’s never needed quite as much correction as Wheein who likes to know exactly where her cage ends and begins, or like Hyejin- who needs nearly as much combatting and careful maneuvering as their enemies.

She'd learned from Hyejin. Had never let the others have quite as much freedom or get used to challenging her. There's a reason why Hyejin had demanded to wear her mating mark and why Moonbyul had let her have it.

Omega's however sweet and however docile, still need a cage. Moonbyul's only ever tried to branch out of her tastes once, and she won't ever do it again. Disastrous as alphas are. They make piss-poor lovers and disobedient needy pets.

She sighs. Alphas and their messes.

In truth, the pack could use someone truly obedient, someone for whom being good is as easy as breathing to balance them out. The pack could use a good pup. The pack could use you.

Moonbyul burns in want, stewing in it ravenous. It’s not love, it’s not even really lust either. She’s never been an easily sated person. She’s always wanted too much, always finished the whole pint of ice cream in one sitting. She’s always wanted everything.

That’s why she’s smiling, because she’s about to get it.

She stands a little straighter, holding out her palm. “Why don’t we go see.” Moonbyul doesn’t turn to leave, however. She doesn't walk towards the body dumped at the back of the building, still bearing Jin's fingerprints. A single strand of hair would do it. She doesn’t make any move other than to reach into her pocket and take out a lighter.

She thinks of the family's assassins; The Bee, The Spider and The Wolf. She thinks of Park Jimin. The snake. Hopefully either dead or in the process of dying.

The body in the back of the building is another one of hers. She never thought that this would be the end of the Wolf, he'd always been one of their most reliable killers. Always showed up on time too, an exemplary employee. Not to be easily duped. She'll have to figure this out and pin down What did him in. But that will take time and energy, only one of which she has.

He was only supposed to wait in the wings and ensure that neither Park Jimin nor Kim Seokjin left this building alive, nothing more.

Sometimes things are just coincidences, sometimes if you're lucky- they're just bad luck.

This doesn't feel like bad luck, this feels like revenge.

Solar makes a noise in her throat, a questioning chirp. She really is trying to be her cutest right now. Moonbyul won’t reward her in a way that she likes, a way that she wants. Even songbirds still feel the itch to fly. Clipped wings and all.

She looks at the flame, sparking.

“Why won’t you just leave the evidence? Wouldn’t that be easier?” Solar is not as good as Hyejin at handling this sort of thing, not as experienced. But she’s currently handling other more important things. Things that need her finer touch.

Solar doesn’t understand why Moonbyuls going to light this place up like a fucking Christmas tree and do Seokjin’s dirty work for him. Solar is only a pup, and she’s been kept like that because Moonbyul likes pupish omegas.

She likes the innocence and obedience that people who weren't made for this kind of life have. So eager to please that they're willing to debase their souls. There is no greater sacrifice, no greater sign of love than someone willing to do anything for you.

This also happens to be why she likes you. Why she will have you. because neither Solar nor Wheein have ever been as good at this as you were. The perfect medium between sinful and pious. Cute even while killing.

And 5 is a prettier number than 4. 3 pups for her and Hyejin is a prettier number than 2. They need more than one for each.

Just one more pup, and then their collection will be complete. It took them so long to find the right one, so much trial and error. (Moonbyul despises errors. She's going to try and kill one before this is through)

She won’t let you slip through their grasp, not a second time. You should have never been Yoongi's.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to leave this as evidence? So that the FBI gets them all? We could just like- buy them off if they wanted to take her too-”

“Oh pup” she croons, half gentle. Flicking the lighter and letting it burn in front of her face before she tosses it The soil is so soaked through with gasoline that it lights as easily as a candle, slowly spreading from wall to wall and then- in the doorway, until the heat is too much and they have to move away.

“That wouldn’t be any fun now, would it?”

~-~

(Now, Namjoon)

Namjoon’s shirt is soaked so thoroughly with blood that it makes him cold. The hospital always feels cold, goosebumps rise like a mini mountain ranges on his arms. The hair pressed down where the blood has dried.

It’s not his first time covered in blood, but this time feels different.

He’s shivering, teeth clattering. His hands shake almost too bad to fill out the intake paperwork because he’d rather do it now than later. Park Jimin (registered, Kim) Alpha, weight 165 lbs (give or take a few). Blood type AB. No medications. No known allergies, no known prior conditions. No no no.

No.

Namjoon’s hands shake. He leaves Jimin’s ‘occupation’ blank.

Yoongi sits a few paces back, staring vacantly off into space. On the surface Namjoon would assume that he’s having no reaction and is feeling absolutely heartless about everything that's happened in the last 3 hours. But his breath becomes stuttered every few minutes, like he has to manually force himself to inhale and exhale. Like it’s taking all of Yoongi’s faculties to keep himself breathing and upright and not in a heap on the floor having a mental breakdown.

He kind of wishes Yoongi was crying and screaming instead. Then at least- Namjoon would feel like he had to be the strong one.

He can't get the feeling of stabbing Jimin out of his head, or the sound it it, the wet squelch of knife hitting skin.

Namjoon has cut into people thousands if not hundreds of thousands of times by now. But he’s only cut into someone he loves once, and god Namjoon never wants to do it again- won’t ever be able to touch warm prone flesh and hurt it, not after Minnie. Never again.

The pen in his hand weighs a million pounds. He contemplates asking for a piece of paper and writing out his resignation letter. he breathes in for 5 and out for 9, then sets it down on the clipboard and slides it across the counter for the nurse to take. Namjoon doesn’t hear her quiet tone asking him if he's alright and if there's anything she can do. just shakes his head on instinct.

There is a gaggle of nurses looking around the corner peering at Dr. Kim.

"Do you think he dresses like that outside of work hours?" "I never thought I'd be so attracted to jeans and a tee-shirt." Giggling in quiet voices.

It feels so strange, to hear people laughing while Jimin is dying. Namjoon almost wants to go bite their heads off and report them for poor bedside manner to the hospital manager.

This is Namjoon’s hospital. But Namjoon can’t find it in himself to smile or say thank you to the nurse when she tells him that the second she gets any news on Jimin, he'll be the first to know. He can’t say anything through the mountain of emotion in his throat.

If Namjoon’s love is a mountain, then his anguish is a river threatening to drown him. Yoongi smells like it- the line where water turns clear to brackish, Yoongi’s miserable scent has always smelled like the churning sea and now something that feels an awful lot like seasickness makes Namjoon sway on his feet.

Since he’s done with the paperwork, he promptly returns to Yoongi’s side and sits down. Only once he's sure he's stationary, does he pull a nearby wastebasket over between his knees to upend the contents of his stomach. It hits the top of old gauze pads crumpled up at the bottom and smelling like piss with a surprisingly violent sound, drawing the gaze of more than one person in the waiting room. At least it finally quiets the giggles.

Yoongi’s hand finds Namjoon’s knee, the hole in his jeans, The back of his ribs, stroking once twice. steady and hard the way that Namjoon likes. And Namjoon wishes he could snap at Yoongi. Wishes he didn’t curl into the touch. Wishes he was angrier. Wishes Jimin was perfectly alive and breathing and not going to-

Yoongi’s hand settles on the back of Namjoon’s neck, his throat, pulse hammering, thudding.

They’re just kids and Yoongi's hands are calloused. They've always been.

Deep down Namjoon still feels like he’s only 8 years old. Is just a kid and just starting to understand that the world isn’t all just papercuts and skinned knees; that it means something when people hurt. That it means something when you tell them you won’t let them hurt anymore.

He remembers promising Jimin something similar- a long time ago, the summer they all first met:

Namjoon remembers Jimin, standing in the apartment that wasn't theirs yet, after a movie night, the first movie night that the pack had ever had togeather (not totally togeather, becuase you and hobi hadn't been there yet but still).

It was the first time Namjoon had ever seen Jimin in something other than a designer sweater, sweats and a tee-shirt so ordinary that Namjoon was surprised it didn't make him look less intimidating. standing in the doorway waiting for Namjoon to notice him and look up from his medical journal.

"Yes Minnie? Did you need something?" jimin had shifted from foot to foot. looking up at jimin, a first slice of vulnerability in his eyes.

"Tae and Jungkook, they've got a bit of pain in them. I want to know what you intend to do with it." namjoon set his glasses to the side, the papers rustling as he forgets his reason.

"Make it better hopefully?" Namjoon had been struck with how oddly intense he'd been. Jimin had opened up with time and had gone sweet and trusting with the right amount of love. But he'd looked intimidating in his dark clothes and the wrinkle between his eyes like he was used to furrowing his eyebrows. A cute detail that Namjoon already wants to brush away. To touch. to cradle. To love.

He'll catalogue all of Park Jimin's cutest things in time. He'll treat love as a scavenger hunt, to find the softness in someone who tries so outwardly to be gruff and strong.

Namjoon's stained sleep clothes and promises felt all the more shabby in comparison.

"I need you to promise."

Namjoon had avoided it. Unwilling to meet his words with the same intensity. Jimin doesn't take chances with Jungkook and Tae. Tae's low laugh from the other room, Yoongi's matching grumble, overly fond already. Overly fond from the beginning.

"What about you? Doesn't everyone have pain?"

"Just promise."

"I promise to look after the three of you." Jimin had scoffed. Puffing up like a bird with too many feathers.

"I don't need looking after. Just them- when I go away for work."

"I know, but let me do it anyway." Smiling at the pretty alpha was so easy, so easy with the sounds of Jungkook and Jin's giggles in the other room. Laughter building itself into the walls around them.

"I promise not to hurt you or them. You have my word."

Namjoon lied, Namjoon lied back then and he didn't even know it. He upends his stomach again and Yoongi rubs down his spine.

“He’s not going to die Joon, he’s going to be fine.” Namjoon continues to empty his stomach, it’s pizza mostly, a bit of coffee, and a half-digested protein bar from this morning as well.

“Does hurting the people you love ever get easier?” Namjoon asks. Honesty, not anger in his tone.

Yoongi’s hair has gotten longer and hangs in his eyes. Yoongi never grew his hair out before you, always kept it in that short black sort of coconutty style. It makes him look older and all the more beautiful. Namjoon wonders if that’s why you like it; How regal it makes your mate look.

Yoongi has asked so much of Namjoon in the last few years, from leaving to coming back and bringing you. To hiding the mating mark and now this. Namjoon tells himself he should care more about Yoongi's lies and less about the fact that he just lied, period.

“No,” Yoongi grimaces. He always gets so quiet when things are bad, steady in that consistent way. He still hasn't stopped stroking Namjoon's back. Namjoon knows this is simply all Yoongi knows how to do, his first instinct is to love and not much else. “It was never easy.”

It’s not weird that they re-hash this now. Every time Namjoon learns more about how and why Yoongi left, he understands it more.

“I threw up too, just so you know- when I left, leaving you made me so sick that I hurled the second I got on that train. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” He blinks back wetness in his eyes, “I don't remember if I've ever told you that."

Namjoon nods. He can't remember right now either.

It’s been an hour or so now since Yoongi drove fast but steady steady steady to the hospital. Namjoon in the back while he stabilized Jimin in much the same fashion that you'd done earlier. The rest of the pack should be here soon. The three of you only lingered behind to clean up a bit and change your clothes, covered with blood and muck and who knows what else.

Yoongi sits like a statue and Namjoon can’t even look at him, can’t ask any questions or even start because he already feels like he’s yelling, and Namjoon hates yelling. This isn't isn’t exactly the most private venue for secrets that could land Jimin in jail.

Namjoon's still not entirely convinced that stabbing him was worth it. Namjoon’s brain is dizzy with terror. He’s still dizzy when he turns and sees you walking through the front doors to his hospital, Jin and Hobi trailing behind you.

He remembers the way you’d looked the day they’d gotten you checked out for the first time; how you’d run and pressed your face to his chest and buried your face there like just the sound of Namjoon's heart could make every demon and monster go away. For a moment, Namjoon thinks you might do the same thing. But your steps are measured, slow, and purposeful.

Namjoons eyes train on you, following you as you walk,

Yoongi stands, leaving Namjoon sitting with a cooling pail of vomit between his legs. he says something to you, to jin, but you don't pause, continuing until you're standing in front of him.

You don't say anything to him, just peer into the bucket and make a disgusted face down at it. Namjoon's teeth feel too sharp in his mouth with such a tense jaw.

Hoseok is on the phone, face gaunt and tired-looking. He must have drawn the short end of the stick and has the job of calling Jungkook and Tae and telling them what happened. They really shouldn’t drive themselves, but all Namjoon can reasonably do is restrain himself from cornering you and Jin and start demanding answers.

He barely even turns to Jin when the omega goes up to the desk and asks if they can have a room, please. A private place for the pack to nurse their worries and not crowd the already-packed waiting room. Namjoon couldn’t name the nurse by name right now if he wanted to but he’s well known here and well-liked too. They give them one of the adjacent exam rooms to wait- Jimin’s surgery will take a few hours more, and there isn’t anything to do but wait.

Terrible terrible waiting, terrible terrible time. (You get a bucket when you want a drop and a drop when you want a deluge. Time only comes in two increments; too much or not enough.)

You drop a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder without a word. After some beckoning Namjoon follows you into the room. Legs shaking and sluggish at first. The pack is quiet even as the door closes.

But once Namjoon's moving it’s hard to stop, careening like a comet or a bullet in your direction. Staggering.

You’d taken precious seconds to change your blood stained clothes before following Namjoon. You all pulled on the first things you could get your hands on. Which is how you’ve ended up in your mate’s shirt and Jungkook’s jacket, and how Hoseok’s in one of Tae’s extra-large pink sleep shirts stained from hair dye underneath Namjoon’s puffer coat and a pair of jungkook's grey work out sweats. Jin had been a little bit more purposeful- his sweatpants match- his matching purple set.

Namjoon's shirt is dark from blood, the bloodstain drying crusty, sticking to his skin like glue.

To say that Namjoon is angry is an understatement; rage rolls off of him in quiet unending ripples carrying with it the strength to change the pack for good if he’s not careful. He doesn't walk to the chairs no- he bee-lines it to you.

He watches you startle and turn, eyes widening. You do not make to move out of his path.

Namjoon has never made you feel afraid before, but the pulse of it, the threat of fear is there as he backs you against the wall until your body lies against it. Looming over your head, so much taller and larger than you.

An alpha. An alpha hunting.

You tremble but you do not move to avoid him when he corners you.

He has a tiny bit of blood on his face, and a hairline splatter, almost like a constellation of stars across his temple. His fingers are harsh and shaking when they dig into your cheeks, pinching them until your lips open. Your knees tremble and you press your palm flat against the wall.

His scent thunders so thick and consuming that you can't physically stop yourself from trying to bear your throat. Namjoon stops you, holding you in place.

His eyes are dark and heavy-lidded as he looks down at you, He pinches your cheeks harder, shakinging you just a little. His voice is steady when he speaks, inches away from low snarl.

“Never make me hurt one of our packmates again.” You swallow, although it’s hard. And he pinches again- harder before you get a chance to speak- to try and defend why you brandished that knife at Jimin hours ago. Namjoon holds your face the same way he held the knife- tenderly.

“I mean it. Never.”

He holds you there for a second longer before he lets you go, leaving you gasping. His hand slides down your throat to your shoulder and neck, You would fall over if it wasn't for his touch keeping you up.

“I’m sorry.” You choke out, a few stingy tears making themselves known at the corner of your eyes. Namjoon rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. His spiky silver hair hits your skin. Rough.

After a second, he opens them again. Nodding. And his scent loses its bitter edge. He guides you to rest against his chest. You take big gasps of his scent now that he's giving you permission. Your instincts thunder through you so viciously that you can't physically stop yourself from tilting your neck and bearing your throat.

Namjoon just drags a finger down it, humming. He holds you up, arms around you, a shield and a cage.

“It’s not okay.” I’m not okay, “but I forgive you.” Your knees do give out when Namjoon’s hand brushes the back of your neck, fingers digging in, a half hearted scruff that feels a bit like an apology of his own.

Even if he wants to be angry, anger won’t accomplish anything. Especially with you. His anger will only make you afraid and although Namjoon cannot be expected to control his emotions all the time, you have no reason to fear him.

He's never going to hurt you. He promised.

He walks you two strides, to put you into a chair next to Yoongi. Your mate takes you from him. The plastic chair makes a loud scraping noise against the linoleum floor. Jin's on your other side looking just as tired as the rest of you.

You'll get no rest tonight, sleeping in Jimin's hospital room when he gets out of surgery. Every fitful dream interrupted by the oxygen monitor on his arm. the first few hours when it will go off twice and prompt examination of his vasculature and operation site as well as a fresh dose of blood thinners. The biggest danger going forward will be blood clots; one too large in jimin's arm could leave his hand with nerve damage, numb for good.

But for now, Namjoon looks down at you, yoongi, and jin sitting in the plastic chairs. Secret, killer, and agent. All there in a pretty little row. Namjoon glares down at the three of you and crosses his arms.

“Explain.” Namjoon can’t wait another minute, another second. “Explain to me everything going on in my pack that I don't know about right now or I swear I'll-"

Yoongi scoffs, "That you'll what? That you'll tear us apart Namjoon? that you'll leave? Look around you- we're already falling to pieces."

"You don't honestly expect me not to be angry that I had to stab jimin do you-"

"No, but don't yell at her. I have my limits."

"I wish I was one of those limits, but i'm clearly not since you insist on fucking over our pack-"

Jin turns, cutting them off from their argument with the true shock of his next words. You know that's what he's intending- but it sort of backfires. "Joonie, Don't get mad at Yoongi or her for this. Especially since I'm the one who shot Jimin. It was an accident."

You flinch, then put your head in your hands, namjoon's scent goes impossibly thick and angry for a second before he gets it under control. You physically watch Namjoon's hackles raise. watch Yoongi push back in his chair, leg jumping, running his hands through his hair looking from you to Jin, then back again.

"Jin, you should have kept that to yourself."

"What the fuck-"

Namjoon looks like he doesn't know weather to cry or laugh. "You don't just shoot someone on accident-"

Jin's got the best scoff, one worthy of music screens not just the quiet tomb of this room. Your relationship that's dying all around you. "You don't just stab someone on accident either and yet here we are-"

There are some secrets you take to the grave and others that you keep for too long, so long that they make a grave out of you. Keeping secrets is like keeping someone else's heart beating, you run out of blood eventually.

You might vomit up the truth all over the hospital floor just like Namjoon did a few minutes ago. You feel sick and light-headed and sort of like you might have low blood sugar. namjoon's scent, angry alpha affects you more than you realize.

You start to teater, and their next biting words get extinguished when you almost fall out of the chair, nearly sliding to the floor before Namjoon catches you. One knee dully aches as he picks you up like you weigh nothing, ducking in close, real concern in his face, all his anger gone.

"Shit are you okay?"

"Pup?"

"Just got lightheaded-" Whatever it was, your lightheadedness will have to wait for another time. It's honestly probably just stress. Your heart feels like it's beating extra fast, extra hard.

Namjoon places you gently back in the chair and Yoongi touches your shoulder, the trio of their concerned faces that you swat away.

"We should wait for Hobi." You still owe him an explanation- for earlier and these aren't the kind of secrets you say more than you have to. A cup of water gets thrust into your hands and for once, they fall silent.

When Hobi comes in he’s mostly quiet holding his phone in his hand. Looking at you from across the room. His soulful eyes watching you, head tipping to the side in deference.

"Tae's in-" It takes him a second to gather his words. "Tae's in a fucking state. She was crying so hard that Jungkook had to call them an Uber. I just told her Jimin had been stabbed and nothing else because I didn't know what to tell her."

"That's probably for the best we don't have to-" your mate starts, but Namjoon cuts him off.

"No, no more secrets. Not between any of us."

Hoseok still has a hickey from you on the side of his neck, from you earlier. Jin's fingers skim down the one on your shoulder where a mirrored mark sits knocking you out of your Hobi-induced reverie, red and bruising from his mouth. Jin raises his eyebrow at you, but now is not the time to tell him about you and hobi.

"We've got like- maybe 30 minutes until they get here."

You swallow past a lump in your throat, readying yourself for it, “better make it quick then,” Namjoon waits, Seokjin is silent, watching you, gaze flickering from you to Hobi every few blinks. Yoongi holds onto your knee, sliding his palm down to your hand, your wrist. Finger digging into the sensitive scent gland there and rubbing comforting circles.

You swallow hard. “We’re all on each other's sides, right?”

“Of course,” Jin crosses his arms like he's offended you even had to ask. You bite back your retort. Namjoon nods, so does Hobi.

Your hair flops as you nod. But you still look to Yoongi to wait for permission. After a breath your mate nods and spreads his hands, giving you the floor.

If there’s one thing you know it’s that you can’t do this alone, you and Yoongi, Namjoon and Jin, Jimin and Tae. You and Hobi. There is no separation here, not when it comes to your safety. Each of you cannot keep the rest safe on your own.

“I met Jimin a few months before I met Yoongi, I…Yoongi’s family-”

Yoongi resists the temptation to speak for about 10 seconds when you fall silent. You can sense the moment that the truth shifts, when it explodes at Yoongi’s tongue. Unbidden but frantic and relieving like it's taken Yoongi's whole being to keep all this in.

“My family, I've never liked calling them that. Blood means nothing to me, you guys, you guys were always my family more than them." The pack is silent but you lace your hands with his and nudge his thigh with yours, encouraging him to go on.

"My relatives run the largest network of organized crime on the East Coast, from Boston to Miami. Everything from racketeering to prostitution to production and distribution of pharmaceutical-grade opioids. cover ups, sale of illegal weapons, extorsion of political officials and blackmail. If you can think of a crime they do it. If you can think of a way to make money, they've got their hands in it. It’s one of the reasons why I don’t go home- why my parents-”

Yoongi breaks off, his voice going small and quiet. Wounds he doesn’t talk about- even to you.

“There’s maybe 200 of us now. I’ve got a lot of fucking aunts and uncles. We try to stay in our lanes, our cities, and deal only in our respective crimes. There's a lot of politics and a lot of people vying for control here and there, but only alphas are allowed to lead, omega's increases the bonds of power in other ways and beta's- You know how rare beta's are- in my family- i'm treated as second only to the family head. Being a beta offered me certain liberties. Other freedoms. Not only to avoid most of the violent stuff- but to leave and move around without asking for permission. It's like a get out of hell free card. Not everyone gets that."

You snort, crossing your arms over your chest, “You mean they didn’t exactly expect you to go about popping heirs or advancing the family business through murder and ruining innocent people's lives. not like they expected with me."

Hoseok shrivels his nose, He looks from you to Yoongi- eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “hang on i thought- Are you guys trying to say you’re fucking related or-”

“Oh my god daisy-”

You splutter, “gross- No, we’re not fucking like- blood-related or anything.” You tap your chest. "I'm non family- brought in from the outside. Which means I was just about as valuable as piss to the aunts. In our world the only reason to mate or marry is for power- any other reason and your spouse is considered disposable." you cross your legs, admitting something you've kept to yourself, not a secret just a suspicion. "Geumjae never intended to keep me around forever."

Seokjin makes a strangled noise and Namjoon runs his hands through his hair, “Jesus Christ.”

Hobi raises his hands bare, “Sorry! You’re not doing a good job of explaining!”

"Well, if you just gave me a minute to get to the point-" Yoongi seems to shake himself, to put himself together. “Like she said- I'm not expected to partake in the family buisness, Only alphas are allotted that 'honor'." Yoongi puts the words in quotations and adds an eye roll for good measure.

"Mainly- I’m treated as some sort of glorified advice Column. People call and ask me things and I’m required to answer or else they’d hunt me down and drag me back. They bring me in to coordinate stuff because I'm a beta and I keep everyone calm and keep them from killing each other and shooting out their squabbles. I tried to keep you guys safe that’s why I left but-“

Jin’s hand goes to yours, nodding, because he understands. “But not why you stayed away.”

“No. It's not.” The pack's eyes naturally stray to you.

“The heads of houses report to the family head and she directs them to me if they need a beta's touch. Only she hasn't- the new Don hasn't asked anything of me since taking power. When the last one died- my grandparents- I left to help with the transition. But the new Don doesn't need me."

You flinch, you try to hide it but Yoongi turns, ferreting out that there's a secret there without you having to confess it. Your voice is darker than they’ve ever heard. "It's not that she doesn't need you- it's that she doesn't trust you."

Yoongi tries not to sound accusatory. "Her trust isn't something you should be after."

“It’s not- promise I just-” You pick at a stray thread on your pants.

The linoleum floor in front of you is polished so clean that you can see your reflection in it. "She shouldn't trust me either- and she knows it. Believe me she knows it."

Now it's Yoongi's turn to look at you. To pull himself to the edge of his chair to try and get in front of you. A wordless question that he dares not speak.

"Before you, I was already trying to do whatever I had to survive. including doing what everyone else did back in that hellhole and ask for help-"

Yoongi stands, to much energy and panic in his body to stay seated. “You didn’t." This is a fight and a confession you shouldn’t have In front of the rest of them.

You look up at Yoongi, eyes beseeching. He's quiet and you make your words as measured and soft as you can. "I asked your grandparents first- and then when she told me as long as I did what she said she'd get me out I-"

“She’s more dangerous than Geumjae, you can’t have honestly been trying to trade one captor for another."

The whole pack is silent, watching the two of you. Not really understanding. But Jin- Jin pursues his lips. You don't know how he knows but he does.

Yoongi’s face goes truly white. Yoongi’s hands are shaking. Shaking until he grabs the handles of your chair, knees to the ground, bowed in front of you. Letting your silence stew for a second.

Maybe it’s a terrible thing to blame it on her, you hadn’t fought not to kill. But back then it had really felt like your only way out, the only way to escape the ever-suffocating pressure of trying not to die.

“For what it’s worth, I had no idea what they meant to you when she made me help her kill them.”

Something shifts in Yoongi’s stature, from surprise and shock to resignation so quickly you almost miss it. A tense set to his jaw but a tight-lipped understanding as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and he rests his forehead on your knees.

He's very careful in his words. Slow with them and intentional when he lifts his head and stands. You don't know if they're lies. “Just like my parents, just like all of us in the family, I knew their days were numbered anyway.” But you loved them once you want to say. You’re not sure why you want Yoongi to be angry at you.

“I won’t apologize, not for what I had to do to survive.”

Yoongi cradles your cheek. Something dark and conflicted in his eyes.

“I know, but I’d forgive you anyway, even if you did it out of anger.”

“And Jimin?” Namjoon asks, Yoongi's hand drops from your cheek. "How does he connect to all of that?"

“I met him first, I asked him.” You hesitate. This isn't your secret to tell and you don't even know all of it- like how jimin even became an assassin or started killing. you don't know his motives. It's one thing to confess your own sins, and another to talk about Jimin's to them without his say-so.

Jin darts forward, holding your hand in both of his, “Whatever we say in this room- I’d never dream of recording. I’m not on anyone’s side but ours.” Jin screws his eyes shut tight, willing you and Yoongi to believe him. "Even with the FBI thing."

Namjoon whirls. He doesn't have to ask before Jin's spilling it. telling the truth.

Jin is measured with his speech, but it's his turn. No more secrets, that's what you've all agreed. "I've been working with the FBI for the last 8 years. They approached me back before we met Joonie- because of my proximity to Yoongi. First as an informant, then an agent and now the head of the task force.

"I only did it because I figured out that being a part of them was the easiest way to keep Yoongi out of jail. As long as I could reasonably assume I was the only one trusted and close enough to keep an eye on him, I could keep all the truly damning evidence out of their hands."

Jin turns to you, resisting the urge to reach out to you for his own comfort, you're looking at him like he's got three heads, but he smiles down at you, that pup-soft smile that he saves just for you when you're both nesting.

"I kept your name off of the photocopies of the recipie you used to kill them. Don't worry, no one but us knows." You look at Jin with new eyes, not a double agent but not an enemy either. Somewhere in between. Your heart pulses, and you grip his hand back.

Yoongi pulls his hands through his hair, angry, his tone grave "Well there's your reason-"

Hobi has been so quiet you've honestly almost forgotten he was there. Elbows balanced on his knees and watching the three of you on trial for Namjoon. "Answer to what."

"You don't understand Jin, you don't understand the laws of the family much less the one you've broken."

"The reason why someone's trying to kill you, if anyone finds out that Y/n killed them- everyone connected to them is fair game."

"You mean-"

"We're all done, if anyone finds out, that's probably why the new head of house was trying to take Jin out- to tie up a loose end."

"Hang on, I'm getting confused again." Hobi runs his hands through his hair, and it fluffs up. "Jimin's what again?"

“Jimin is an assassin, I asked Jimin to kill my husband for me but he said no.” You pick at a strand of thread on your pants, unwilling to look up and meet any of their eyes, not Namjoon’s or Jin’s. “Met him back when we meant nothing to each other. He still feels guilty for not saving me. We talked it out a while ago. It’s okay- I did it myself eventually- didn’t need anyone’s help.”

You look up at Yoongi and he looks like he might want to laugh or cry and can't pick which. “I don’t know much else about Jimin other than that he kills for the family."

"They've got people for everything, a few assassin's they keep on retainer," Yoongi clarifies. "People that anyone can hire if you've got the money for it. There are a few names that the family puts on a no-kill list, Children, the pack mates of the ruling pack, the heads of houses and their immediate packmates. If anyone kills a person on the no-kill list- their life is forfeit. I'm on it by default. The pack mates of the beta are on it too, All of you are on it. No one should be trying to kill you."

Yoongi's never paid much attention to the list, the waxing and waning names and faces and photos. he's been on it since before he was born and with no intent to kill or harm anyone and put himself even potentially in harm's way, he's never sought it out.

Maybe if he had, things would go differently.

A cold rush of realization rushes over you. "That's why Jimin and Jin ended up there" You stand up, adrenaline in your hands. "She was hoping they'd take each other out so she wouldn't have to break family law to kill them."

Yoongi shakes his head, "Something about this doesn’t feel right- something about this isn’t normal.”

Hobi’s phone dings before you can hash it out anymore. He looks down in his lap. “They're here,” he’s up and out of the chair, heading out the door and into the hall so quickly that the rest of you have to chase after him. Namjoon tugs you to your feet, staring at Yoongi and Jin. "Was that enough?" you ask.

"We'll talk more later." is all he says. But he does lace his hands with yours and pull you after Hobi. Your legs are so short you have to take two steps for every one of theirs.

“I wish Tae and Kookie were here for that-“

"They should know” your mate agrees, keeping pace with you in the hallway, dropping back with you when Namjoon accidentally lets go in his haste to get through the door. You make eye contact with Yoongi when you turn. Your back to one of those push doors using your body weight to push through it.

You pause, waiting with Yoongi on the other side of them.

“If anyone tells her about Minnie- should be me.”

(You know exactly how you’ll do it, you’ll tell Tae the story of you just like this. You’ll tell it like a story, with author notes and playlists near the end. You’ll talk about Jimin just like this; all of the good parts and all of the bad all in one. So that she might truly understand that having a choice doesn't always mean you're free to do whats right.)

Yoongi nods, “I can tell Jungkook. I think if I do it gently, he won’t get shocked enough to have a seizure.”

You pause before the doors open, to have just a moment with the two of you, just you and him leaning against it. He shifts closer, not holding you, hands by his side but he's close enough that you could rest your head on his shoulder. You do rest your head on his shoulder. Just to hear his heartbeat thud sluggish and heaven-sent against your ear.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” It feels like it’s been ages and ages since you’ve had a quiet moment with him like this. You resolve to have one, to make space for him when this is all over. A private date with just the two of you maybe. Whenever Jimin comes home. “To help with Jimin.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I killed your grandparents.”

“They weren’t good people,” Yoongi shrugs, you've never seen a sadder shrug. “I always knew that. They-” yoongi breaks off, stealing himself for a quiet confession. "I think they might have had a hand in killing my parent. She didn't like it- that they had so much power over me. Future of the family and all."

"You've never said-"

Yoongi pushes through the door, and a high pitched keening cuts off your next words. "Later."

You push through the door and Tae and Jungkook are already there. Entering through the outside doors with a puff of air into Namjoon and Jin's waiting arms. Namjoon holds Tae up as she wails and wails. Her cry high like a nightingale. Jungkook looks pale and shaky, settled under Hobi's shoulder clearly in shock.

You cut through them, ducking under Jin's outstretched arm and colliding with Tae before anyone else can join Namjoon in holding her. falling to little heap on the linoleum floor, just at the precipice of the long hallway that connects to the patient rooms and the nurse's stations to other surgical suites. Drawing countless stars, countless looks from passersby as Tae's sobs renew themselves, loud and broken.

You clinging to each other. Her arms around your shoulders, cradling your head like it's the last safe thing in the universe.

“Jimin,” her voice breaks, throat closing around nothing. Sobs wet and angry, hot tears dripping down her cheeks, big and unabated by hope. "Minnie- My Minnie-"

You cling back, getting your hands on her cheeks. “He’s gonna be fine, he’ll be alright- here- here let me help you up. We've got you Tae-”

Jungkook looks a bit better, a little bit less like he’s drowning. Jin reaches for him while you hold onto Tae. And JK’s nostrils flare, he steps back, looking Jin up and down. Tae clings to you on the floor of the hospital and you look up at them. At Jin and Jungkook, standing a pace apart. Jungkook's hands keep Jin from coming any closer.

“You smell like Jimin does when he comes home from his trips, you smell like gunpowder. And mucky-” Jungkook's voice breaks, "Jin? Why do you smell like blood?"

There are too many people around, too many people for something like this. You're just glad It’s a quiet omission, Jungkook’s scent is level and so is his breath.

Maybe you should give him a lot more credit. Yoongi might not have to tell him much.

Tae's tears hit your collarbones as she crushes you, sobbing loudly in your ear, immune to the string of sweet nothings that fall from your lips. Whispered against her temple.

To everyone else in the hallway, rushing in the late-night hum, you and Tae look just the way that you’d expect; Two girls clinging to each other, one tall and the other short. One an alpha and the other an omega.

The rest of the pack is so blinded by their concern and their terror that they don’t look up. They don’t look down the hall to see the figure standing there watching them. One second the hallway is empty of the dark figure and then next she's there- waiting for you.

Her pine and medicine scent is disguised by the smell of death that lingers here. Although more than 2 of the people there might recognize it if they had the patience to sniff it out. They're too distracted by Yoongi dragging Jungkook close and whispering in his ear to keep his voice down.

Moonbyul watches the scene from the end of the hall. Two coffees in her hands. One for her and one for you because she always assumes that you'll go with her when she asks. No matter what’s going on with your pack, Moonbyul is not the kind of person who you say no to. She’ll ask nicely for you to come one more time.

Or so she thought. Looking at you and Tae holding each other is giving her other ideas.

To love a man is something she's always been able to dismiss as a mistake. Little pups just don't know what they need and even less what they want. She'd been prepared to deal with you loving them, the alphas, on paper, even the admittedly pretty omega male currently in her cousin's arms.

But another woman? Even one like that?

Rage is not like other sorts of anger, it’s not like fire burning to take. Achieng to burn until all the heat has worked itself out. Rage is quiet, rage is darkness and a hunger that needs to consume. That will destroy even if you try to stop it.

It's one thing to know that you love a woman besides her, and another to see you peck kisses along her tearstained cheeks. The rage builds as she watches you cup that female alpha’s cheeks. She watches you brush her hair back from her eyes and tuck it behind her ears. She’s got honeyed skin and smudged lipstick (so inelegant) you wipe her tears away and kiss her cheek.

But what makes Moonbyul’s hands tighten into claws, her metal-tipped nails piercing the coffee cups and making them drip onto the ground, wet and hot, is the way you smile at her.

Moonbyul’s rage is like a tidal wave.

By the time the rest of the pack looks up, the hallway is empty except for a puddle of coffee on the linoleum floor and two discarded cups. One with red lipstick stains and the other without.

~-~

(18 hours later, Jimin)

Tae’s cheek is so soft. That’s the first thing that Jimin’s aware of as he wakes from surgery.

Coming out of general anesthesia feels like being a rickety buoy on the busy ocean. One second bobbing to the surface and the next crashing below the waves and taking on water. Sloshy. Everything feels sloshy.

He only feels her at first- not the hospital bed, not the scratchy sheets, Just the feeling of her cheek resting against the palm of his hand. Her gentle breath tickling his fingers in her sleep.

Jimin will always know the particular beat and cadence of Tae’s body. Would know it if the sun got snuffed out like a candle. Would know her breath anywhere because it’s the very fuel to Jimin’s soul, the very thing that sets the tempo to the heart monitor beating out a pleasant rhythm in the midafternoon hum.

Her skin is pillowy and sweet beneath Jimin’s flayed fingers, limp and cold to the touch because of the whole almost bleeding out thing. He doesn’t know it yet, but he's needed 9 units of blood in the past 24 hours. 4 right away, and 3 during the surgery where they removed the knife and stitched his arm together. And another two units just after.

Compared to his own body, Tae feels so warm.

At least Jimin can still feel his left hand. The doctors that stitched him back together must have done a bang-up job, Namjoon even more so. a lot of people can put an arm back together, a whole slew of them, but not many surgeons could stab someone carefully enough so as to not permanently injure them. There are only so many people that he would trust to stab him.

But Jimin trusts Namjoon with a whole lot more than just that.

When he opens his eyes (a task of herculean proportions) Namjoon isn’t there, it’s just Tae in one of those absurdly uncomfortable hospital chairs. She’s bent over his hospital bed in what must surely be an uncomfortable position to sleep in. Her back arched like invisible wings weigh her down. She slept like that, sprawled as close as she could get to Jimin without the nurses waking her up and telling her not to crowd him.

The smudged mascara on her cheeks flake like falling stars, little trails there were tears rendered it useless. Jimin wipes away a black droplet like he's banishing a ghost. She’s cried so much over the last 10 hours, most of her makeup gone and sporting a bit of 5 o’clock shadow too. The faint roughness that Jimin feels no more than once. Because to derive sensory pleasure from that feels…wrong.

He looks at the ceiling, wondering where the others are. He feels the edge of his body, the spot where the wound begins and the pain ends. Who knew gunshots and stab wounds could make you feel so sore? and tired too? Exhaustion pins his body to the bed like a butterfly to a corkboard.

A wire connected to his good hand tugs, But he ignores it in favor of cradling Tae's head and combing through the tangles in her hair. It's gotten so long now, just to her shoulders, but the bits feel so soft and gauzy against his fingertips. He wishes he could feel it forever. It’s much much better than the 5 o’clock shadow.

It takes a dozen passes for Tae to stir.

And then she startles awake, flinching into being. Fresh tears disrupt the mascara flecks as she beholds her soulmate and nearly tugs herself across his bed to get her hands on his face. To hold his cheeks.

To say that Tae has looked better would be accurate for jimin to say but the words would never grace Jimin’s lips. Not even close. Even with a crusty face and greasy hair- Tae looks gorgeous- so pretty that his heart pulses dangerously quickly. so quickly that jimin's suprised the nurses don't come by and check on him.

Maybe they haven’t given him enough opioids for his shoulder because for a second he feels his heartbeat ricochet through his whole body. To his fingers where he's touching her and back to his heart. Every echo and ripple Tae Tae Tae.

Tae bends over Jimin’s body. Her hands go to his face, fingers touching his smile, and thumbs pressed to his faint crow's feet and twinkling eyes. Clutching at him like he’s her lifeline (he is, a red string of fate that keeps her from drowning, always. She was stupid not to use it like an anchor).

“Pup told me.” She says, a note of finality in her voice, lower lip trembling, tears falling anew “told me you kept talking about me even when you were stabbed" she goes quiet, whispering the words like she's scared someone might be listening in.

"Pup told me everything."

Jimin’s eyes flick from her lips to her face, her body, everything. His hands are trembling, chest building with breaths until they’re heaving and the realization of just how much everything she must know hits him.

Tae knows Jimin well enough to know what a panic attack looks like- knows enough how to soothe it. Knows just to hold on and wait for it to pass. jimin's hands splay and flex, rubbing her skin once, twice, and then a third time in an effort to self-soothe.

"It's okay,"

"You mean you're not-" Jimin's heart monitor is going so wild that Tae has to tell him to calm down. Has to run her fingers up and down his scent glands on his neck, nipping at them to settle him. "You're not angry that I'm-"

That I'm a killer, that I'm a monster. That I've kept everything from you. Jimin readies himself, preparing himself for the speech he always knew he'd have to give. You don't understand, I didn't have a choice, I wouldn't have chosen this- I didn't I just. I never killed people who didn't deserve it- because I know that you'd hate that.

For the first time in their lives, Tae and Jimin are sitting across from each other- without a single secret to each of their consciousness. both of them free and perilously unmoored for it.

But there are no words that Tae needs when she looks up at him and smiles. Wetness at the corner of her eyes.

Seeing Jimin in the hospital bed had not felt like Patroclus and Achilles, it hadn't even felt like Orpheus and Eurydice. There was no roaring anguish. The kind that follows when people leave you too soon. Or the bitter vindication that happens when people leave at just the right time (it’s the worst when people leave like that. Either linger or make me miss you. Stay too long or leave me early. Either way is fine. I’ll feel more human if I’ve got longing or hatred to feel).

In truth seeing Jimin in the hospital bed, wires and hooks connected to him- keeping him alive and keeping him breathing, had felt like a second chance. She's not going to let something as simple as a secret spoil it.

Tae knows she should want to know more about Jimin's job as an assassin and should want to ask more questions (if not to understand her soulmate better, than for writing material). She Should be more revolted or disturbed or upset that her literal soulmate kills people for a living, but at the moment, all she can find in herself is just to be glad that Jimin is fucking alive.

It’s funny, how much your priorities can shift.

Jimin looks like he doesn't believe her. "Tae, you can't even kill spiders."

"Would you care?" Jimin falls silent. "Would you care if it was me in your position?"

Jimin swallows hard and winces. He doesn’t have to ask for a sip of water, because Tae has already gotten it for him by the time his good hand closes over his throat. His shoulder is bound so tightly in bandages that he can hardly shift it. Can't reach up to stop himself from spilling a bit of the water down his chin. Her nails (red polished and chipped) wipe away a drop on his lips.

(There's more that you weren't able to tell her just yet; a lot about you and Yoongi and Jin. You've decided to save the bulk of how Jimin ended up in the hospital bed until after Jimin woke up. Later when you can get her on her own you'll tell her. Probably after Jimin's discharged from the hospital. But the other secrets can wait for now).

It won’t really hit her until later. When she’s in her closet looking at all of her pretty things and designer clothes. Fingers toeing along the fine black cashmere sweaters, to the maroon dresses, to the scarlet ones, stopping just before she reaches the pink. The Dior, the Versache, the McQueen. It will only be then that she'll put two and two together and realize they were all paid for with blood money. With people’s lives.

It will bother her then; it doesn’t bother her right now. It will never bother her enough to think about leaving jimin.

How do you make the choice? What to condemn a loved one for? How do you pin down your line of intolerance when it's someone you love with your whole being? Can you decide at all or is it something that your soul chooses for you? The weight of one sin for another. what you're willing to go through.

They would have died anyway. Even if Jimin hadn't killed them, they had someone out there willing enough to pay for their death and they'd have died anyway she rationalizes. We're all going to die anyway.

Maybe it’s a silver lining that Tae no longer believes in the same kind of sin and wrongness that Jimin does. Doesn’t believe in God and heaven at all. Tae has always believed in soulmates more and believed in Jimin the most. More than any god or afterlife.

“I should be angry, anyone else probably would be but-” Tae turns her cheek into Jimin’s fingers, pressing her lips to his trigger finger. Eyes shining when she looks at him. “I’ve wasted too much of my life being angry at you, wasted too much of it feeling anything but love for you- Jimin- if you died, I-”

Jimin cradles Tae's cheek. “I’m sorry for Namjoon’s rut- for what I said. Didn’t mean it. Never mean it if I'm mean-” Jimin’s finger rubs across Tae’s lips, the wide part of his palm splayed across her jaw, and so much is said in that little touch. But they look at each other and laugh. "Not like Noodle."

It shocks a laugh out of Tae and she presses her temple to Jimin's jaw, feels his smile when the joint moves. She realizes that Jimin's still a little high. Probably too doped up on pain medicine to have this conversation but oh well.

“I never thought it would take you getting stabbed for me to realize it,” her lip trembles, “I don’t want to waste another second being angry with you.”

“I don’t want to waste another second with you either. Won't even sleep,” his eyelashes flutter, struggling to stay awake.

Tae pulls herself more firmly on top of the bed and Jimin shifts a little, wakes a little more when she slings a leg carefully over his hips. Being gentle, still conscious of his physical state. He uses his good arm to pull her up and up until She’s splayed across his lap.

Kissing Tae never loses its edge, it always feels like their first kiss, sweet and with that knotted bundle of anticipation. Jimin sits up into the kiss, sits up until his shoulder protests and he hisses into the kiss. "Don't strain yourself minnie-"

"Don't care just-" he pulls her hips snugly. After that words are sparse as they kiss, again and again, lips working together. Sloppy messy love kisses. Every breath tastes like love, every second of it. She giggles pulling apart for a second to get her breath, the heartbeat monitors in the corner going wild. Breath that washes over Jimin like a gust of spring air, cinnamon flower sweat, and heady. Tae’s kisses are better than a first sip of coffee or a breath of fresh air. (They’re better than living, just a little bit).

“If I was any less sore, I’d ask you to bite me right now.”

Tae grins, and it’s a special secret smile. “You said something like that to Pup too."

“I’m so lucky I get to be yours- don't want to waste the luck-" Tae shakes her head stubbornly pulling back.

"I don’t think that you should say you’re lucky. I’m so lucky that this person loved me, or I’m so lucky that I got to love them. Because when it comes down to it, love and luck are not the same thing. Love is not a single event, like winning the lottery, or finding a 100-dollar bill. Love is a choice and you have to choose it a thousand times. Every day you choose it. Luck is such a cop-out. It’s been really nice.”

“God, I hope I’m more than just nice.”

Tae smiles, “Shut up” She goes a little pale. “Actually don’t shut up with me like- ever. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say.” She plays with Jimin’s hands, “Is that when either of us- whoever- goes first-“ Jimin’s grip goes knuckle tight on her waist, he's coming out of it, a little more lucid with every breath. Waking up more.

“When one of us dies- I don’t want to question if I ever loved you enough, I don't want to rely on just luck. I don’t want to think about the days that I could have gone for coffee with you or could have kissed you longer. I don’t want to think that I didn’t get exactly what I wanted and you didn’t get exactly what you wanted too.

"I want to give you one extra kiss every time so that you get twice as much as you would have gotten otherwise. I just want to think that it was nice, that every moment of it was nice- even when we fought, I want to look back on it and think ‘even the sad parts were nice and I got more than I thought I would.' No luck involved.”

She grins down at him, that same youthful grin she’s had her whole life, Jimin thinks of it sometimes- how many times she’s smiled this way and he hasn’t seen. How many more he will see.

“Also, y/n says that you’re allowed to mate me, but not marry me. She says my ring finger belongs to her.”

Jimin slides up the bed, flipping her over, supporting himself with his good hand, sending her sprawling and giggling. His growl is half hearted but promising. Tae laces her hand in his greasy blonde hair and it stays there.

It stays there.

~-~

The rest of Jimin’s hospital stay goes a bit like this:

There is a pair of suits outside the window, dark and imposing. plain clothes police officers watching and waiting like vultures. They’ve already taken statements from the pack but demand to hear from Park Jimin himself.

Lies from the source always taste the sweetest.

There is a story ironed out and penned in stolen moments, you curled up in one packmate's lap and transferred to another, "the pup" Jin had said, the youngest, was not taking her alpha's stabbing well. "She just needs a bit of soothing, sorry." The suits are charmed enough by two cuddling omega's that they don't notice your mouth pressed to their ears, like a game of cuddly murderous telephone.

The story gets ironed out easily, you’d all gone out for pizza, had come home to find Jimin bleeding in your kitchen.

“It’s pretty normal for Jimin to be reckless with his health. I’m not surprised he tried to come home and see if I could stitch him up himself. I'm a doctor at his hospital- Dr. Kim, pack alpha and head of neurosurgery. The knife- you should know I touched it on accident he wanted to remove it himself and I just had to stop him- I’m sorry- I should have known better I was just- so shaken.” Namjoon is a passable liar at best.

Jungkook has folded himself under your mate’s arm, and Jin’s too. He’s still vaguely shaking, bunny eyes wider than usual. In a little bit, Namjoon will drag him over to an empty exam room for a quick check-up. Just to make sure he isn't about to seize on the floor. Yoongi will go with him, Will tell him the truth about all of this then.

But what, with his comment earlier, you wouldn't be surprised if Jungkook has already figured it out on his own.

Jimin doesn’t even need to be coached into remembering it. The police don’t even think of not letting the pack see him, after seeing Tae’s teary eyes. A pretty girl is the best distraction, and the pack has two pretty girls that smell sour and need to tend to their alpha before the police get a chance too.

They’re impatient as they watch you and Tae fold yourself over Jimin’s barely aware body, more preoccupied with looking at your asses than they don’t see your lips moving against Jimin’s ear, mistaking your shaking for the racking sobs. And your quiet words for sweet nothings.

Hobi had barely leashed a growl, and resisted the urge to step in front of you and block you both from their sight.

The story is so easy and simple- a true case of Ockham’s razor. The simplest story with the least details is the most likely to be believed. the story Jimin tells the police goes like this;

Earlier yesterday, a crazy fan of the idol group he guards that must have followed him from his schedule with intent to learn his schedule and get closer to them. Her description is so ordinary that they’ll never find her because she doesn’t exist. Any person found will easily be made inculpable; either by alibi or honesty. Not that the law cares much about honesty, nor that any of you care about possibly implicating a stranger.

Love always did make people go to extremes, it's easily believable.

Nothing else matters. Besides keeping everyone safe. You're united against this.

Once they're gone, other promises get made:

“I want you to quit, this is too dangerous, if something like this happens to you again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it.”

“We need to make sure we travel in pairs until we figure out what’s going on, why they're targeting Jimin and Jin.”

“I can ask some of my contacts-“

“You’ll do no such thing Yoongi.”

“Do you think we should be like- Armed? Just in case?”

“I don’t think more guns will solve anything but…Maybe.”

In a stolen moment, Namjoon corners you outside Jimin's hospital bedroom, he's holding three bags of takeout, not that Jimin will really be able to eat much of it. The opioids keep down his appetite. That doesn't meant the pack won't try to fuss. As it is, Jimin hasn't been interested in anything but kissing Tae and holding her hand. Pouting whenever the nurses make tae leave.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier," Namjoon has always found apologies easy and has never had so much of an ego that it would get in the way of any of it.

"It's alright, between you and me, I think it was kind of justified." You'd probably yell at all of them if they convinced you to stab Yoongi or tae or any of them.

"No more secrets, okay? Promise me this is the last one." It's easy to promise Namjoon that, so easy. To let him scent you, rubbing his coffee liquor scent all over your shoulder.

(But it's not about the promises that you make, it's about the ones that you break.)

You sit out in the hallway the following morning, still in the same clothes and starting to feel a little bit filthy because of it. None of you have gone home yet. Hobi sits next to you and Jungkook's on the other side.

They’re just checking Jimin’s stitches again, and his hospital room just got a bit crowded. The prospect of checkout is maybe a day away. Tonight is the last you'll have to spend at the hospital.

It was also time to talk over Jimin’s opioid regimen, and the doctor had been nearly delighted when Namjoon had stepped up and taken the lead, reassuring the doctor under no uncertain terms that Namjoon would manage them. You can forgive him for thinking a little too much with his hindbrain. If Namjoon leaned any more into his instincts you'd be worried he was close to going into a rut again.

“Is this what it’s like when I’m in the hospital?” Jungkook asks, sucking on some skittles. It's more sugar than he should be allowed to have especially during a high-stress situation. But Jungkook’s taking the panic to get a little bit of freedom. You cast a glance at Tae, at Yoongi and Jin, standing by the door looking like he’s about ready to twitch out of his skin with the effort it's taking him to stand outside.

Jin had apologized- him and Namjoon both, and Jimin had accepted it instantly. "If I trust anyone to shoot and stab me- it's you two so-"

"But-" they'd argued, but eventually Jimin had turned a little scary, a little threatening. showing a hint maybe- of a persona they're all unused to but you're not. Jimin can be firm when he needs to be. A quick retort of-

"Forcing me to comfort you over something I'm not upset about is not the way to make me forgive you." Shut them up for good (or at least for now).

“Yeah, pretty much.” You hold out your hand for some skittles and he gives you a few. Hobi grimaces and reaches over to take the orange ones out of your palm. He knows you don’t like those. He replaces them with a few green ones.

"It’s fucking boring. I should get you guys like- a DS or something for Christmas.”

“Don’t tell Minnie or he’ll blow all his money on-“ You cringe at your words and Hobi flinches. Jungkook just chews on his candies, they smack against his teeth with a hard clinking sound.

There is still some of Jimin's blood under Hobi's fingernails. You see it when he reaches over to take your Skittles.

The next time Hobi moves to take your Skittles, you grab his hand and pull him to his feet. "Come on."

You lead Hoseok into the women's bathroom, underneath the curious eye of the nurses, all the stalls are empty so you pull him over to the counter.

“You’ve got some- stuff- under your nails- let me.” You rip a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and wet them. You clean Hobi’s hands diligently and he lets you.

He stays quiet, Hobi's been quiet for the last day or so. He hasn't done more than whisper a few quiet words to Jimin and stay close. He didn't say anything during your secret confession yesterday. Didn't ask a single question and the silence bleeds now as you scrub the clean-smelling soap against his skin. Your anxiety builds, and you scrub a little harder. His fingers remain limp in your touch.

“Say something- say anything okay? I need to know that you’re not-” not angry with me. That you don't hate me- that you still love-.

Hobi pulls you against his shoulder in a single clean movement. His wet hands hit your stomach when he grabs your hips. Your nose brushing his throat, his nose skimming your hairline.

“I’m trying not to take too much energy from Jimin- trying not to- be a mess- because he's the only one who deserves the packs attention. I'm not even sure if I am a mess about it. Sure that sucked but-" he sighs, "you and I are kinda like- uniquely able to handle things like this cuz of-" he doesn't need to finish his sentence. Hoseok's lips brush your ear, lips touching your skin, and- he pulls back, smiling softly. It's a tired smile but there it is- soft and special and just for you.

“You’re taking things, remarkably well considering the last time we…”

“The last time we had to deal with something like this?”

You hum, scrubbing a paper towel hard over the ends of Hobi's hands. The white paper goes orange-red with dried blood. "Give it time. There’s still a few weeks for me to go crazy this time.”

But this time, you have a feeling that it will be different. Although Hobi was there the last time- and played an instrumental role in making sure you didn't literally fall apart. It's different now. Right now, your hands tangle on the counter, holding on, even though you try to clean his hands of blood. Holding on is more important, neither of you tries and pull away. You don't have the energy for shyness.

What's more intimate? Sex or murder?

He huffs a small frustrated sound and stoops to rest his forehead against your shoulder, leaning almost all of his weight on you. You take it.

“Maybe this time I’ll take a crack at going crazy.” You laugh, stopping your brushing and just settling for holding him. Hips resting against the counter. The two of you rest, just for a moment.

Your nose against the side of his face where his undercut presses to your skin, spiky. "Still have that train ticket?" Hobi humms, taking a deep greedy breath of your scent to steady himself.

You're not expecting him to pull back and kiss you, but his lips are dry but warm, faintly chapped but yours are too. Pressing soft but demanding against yours. Hobi kisses you just as sweetly as last time and you grip the front of his jacket.

No sooner has he heaved you up on the counter, fingers hooking under your thighs to kiss you stronger- than is the door clanging open and a nurse comes barreling in.

"Ugh- uhm." She's a little stunned, but you're already hopping down, faces flushed and apologizing for the inconvenience.

You don’t throw the bloody paper towels in the garbage, but the toilet, flushing them once, then twice, to make sure that they’re down. Mumbling one last apology before you exit the bathroom together.

Hobi doesn't let go of your hand. You wonder if this is what loving him is going to be like; making out in places you shouldn't, special secret stolen glances when you keep holding hands even around the pack and keep stealing kisses.

You wonder if the kissing will stretch to the cars- to the late night drives, if he'll hold your hand like this around every hairpin turn. If Hobi's going to make you a make out playlist later, full of songs that make him think of you, songs that match the cadence and pitch of your heart. You wonder if loving him will be like this, stolen innocence, like finding sea glass on the beach. There and pretty for the taking if you only look for it.

Your heart feels all warm and tight with it, swaddled. Protected as Hobi tugs you back into Jimin's hospital room. You can't wait to find out.

The next few hours look like this; Namjoon sitting on the foot of the bed his hand on Jimin’s knee, feasting on hospital food. Jungkook giggles, and nearly throws himself across Jimin’s lap so that the alpha can put his hands through his hair. Looks like more takeout, living off of it because no one wants hospital food and you can't go home and cook. You refuse to leave right now.

It looks like Tae smiling for the first time In what feels like years but has logically been only a few hours. Rubbing a hand across her jaw and wincing when she feels the stubble.

Her wince quiets the sounds of the pack happy. And you look up from your plate.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, always stupidly attuned to her and her needs, always watching and waiting.

“I need to freaking shave and I just- I haven’t had the chance to.” Tae lets out a tired sigh, the kind of deep frustration that comes with things that you have no choice but to do.

You take her hand from her chair and tug her up. Because this- this source of angst can be fixed.

“Here- come on,” A shaving razor gets found for her, Namjoon goes to the surgical ward to get the right kind. Sharp and medical and disposable along with a tiny tube of shaving gel. You drag her chair into the bathroom and make her sit while you do it. Lathering up her cheeks and tipping her head back. The whole pack a cacophony in the other room. The shock of skittles and other candies falling onto the floor. Muted words then soft laughter.

You drag the shaving razor up her chin, over her chubby cheeks. Your gentle touch, the soft scrapping of her hair against the blade a gentle accompaniment to the sounds of the pack passing the time until Jimin wants to go to sleep. Jungkook's phone plays a tictok loud, "Bunny- headphones, Minnie's trying to rest" Yoongi reminds him.

Jimin is struggling not to fall asleep, shifting to one side of the hospital bed just to get a better vantage point to look into the bathroom at Tae. Jimin cranes his neck.

Tae's face twitches, and underneath the white froth you see her reddening cheeks. “Stop looking at me.”

Jimin grins from the hospital bed, “Can’t help it, love you.”

“Love you too Minnie” She choruses back, and the pack joins her.

that night, namjoon and yoongi push three hospital cots togeather around jimin's bed and the pack piles in, sweet bodies and kissed cheaks, whiped down with sanitary towels, you end up tucked between tae and hobi, your cheek pressed to her back.

the following morning it becomes impossible to ignore both how purely filthy the 8 of you are and the fact that Jimin's doctors won't let him check out until tomorrow (and even then he'll have days of bedrest and won't be able to use his arm until he gets his stitches out.) You haven't been home in two days, no one can remember if you even locked the front door with how crazy leaving was.

It’s hard to convince Tae to go with you and leave Jimin's side. But she's less resistant when Yoongi reminds her that Jimin needs new clothes to go home in since all of his bloodstained clothing was discarded as medical waste.

“Honestly we should get like- to go bags full of a change of clothes for all of us when like, JK has his seizures,” Maybe it’s just because you’ve done overnights twice in the last week at the hospital- but the idea doesn’t seem like a bad one.

Jin drives you, Hobi, and Tae home in silence; no one tells Tae any of the other secrets yet. Tired as she is, almost falling asleep in the car. Waking with a start when you turn onto your street.

It's a little shocking. When you get home to a cold and quiet house. Jimin's blood has dried up into dark waxy puddles, on the kitchen table and the floor. There are fingerprints from someone, rusty and red on the doorframe. It's stark to see the evidence. To see a bit of it on the butcher block countertop all the terror and the color leached out of it in the grey afternoon light.

Tae is so stumbly that Hobi has to grab her twice just to keep her from walking into walls when he gets her inside. Noodles immediately yowl has you feeling terribly guilty, he circles your and Hobi's ankles. But you push at Hoseok's hands when he stoops to pick him up.

"Take Tae upstairs and shower with her, will you? I'll be up in a second, just gonna feed him and get some stuff together." She's blinking and looking at the bloodstains, eyes already looking glassy with fresh tears.

You need a second, a second in quiet, a second alone just to steady yourself. Jin comes in, dragging in a mountain of mail from your box, "I've got them, come on pups, grooming time."

Jin pecks a kiss along your forehead, "Come up the second you finish?"

You nod, "Just want to get some food first too- hungry."

Jin nods and makes to follow Hobi and Tae but pauses on the stairs. he looks like he wants to say something to you. Eyes full of something unreadable and warm. Unspoken words hover.

If he had to choose anyone, I'm glad he chose you.

But before he can get it out Tae calls from upstairs. "Jinnie? Can you grab one of my comfy sets from the closet down there before you come up?"

You stand, solemn in the kitchen, listening to the sound of them on the creaky stairs, the sound of their quiet voices. The creek of the house as they walk around upstairs.

"Here you go baby," you say, giving Noodles an extra spoonful of food. You know you left enough for him in his bowl and that he didn't suffer too badly. But still, his purring chirping is music to your ears. You pet over his back, his fluffy tail.

He's Still chubby, still good. You aren't too bad of a pet owner then.

There's the gun still there, sitting just to the left of Jimin's blood splatter on the seat of one of the dining room chairs. You're at eye level with it from where you crouch down to pet Noodle. It's the same one that you pulled out from under the bed when you found out he'd been shot. You should probably take it with you when you go back to the hospital, just to be sure.

"You got any secrets for me nu? Are you the long-lost prince of some cat kingdom?" Noodle chops down in response.

You go to the hallway closet to get a duffel bag, where the pack stores their larger bags and luggage.

"Hey!" Hobi calls from upstairs, muffled through the roar of the shower. There isn't much other noise in the house. The birds outside aren't chirping, probably because you haven't been home enough to fill their birdfeeder.

Probably.

"Yeah!?" You call back up, upending the duffel bag and sending a bit of loose change, some quarters and pennies scattering onto the floor. you stoop down to pick up a few of them, tossing them back into the closet with a metallic clang (to be dealt with later.)

“Can you grab Tae's phone charger? It should be by her computer.”

"Got it!" Tae's library room is much the same as it was when you left it, her computer is closed. The walls are green, the window dusty. You find it easily, the cord long and white, tangling in your hands.

You're not sure why your hair raises on the back of your neck.

Noodle stops his chomping.

The push of cold air startles you- the change of pressure in the house like a door being opened- the front door. The windows in the library room are leaky. You're used to being in here and feeling it, used to feeling that same draft every time one of your pack mates comes home.

You freeze where you stand.

The metallic jingle of the doorknob is so much softer than usual. You could almost convince yourself that you don't hear it, that you've made it up.

And then you hear it- Noodle's low hiss.

Call it a habit or a trained behavior but you still make your footsteps quiet everywhere you go. A thing learned from your years with Geumjae when you needed to be quiet to be safe and needed to make yourself as unobtrusive as possible to avoid pain. A vestigial survival instinct.

It serves you well now because no one in the house hears as you slide from Tae’s library through the pantry area, you don’t call out Tae’s name again, or Hobi’s. You don’t know exactly why you don’t.

Your house is an old house and you know every inch of it. You know this house that Yoongi’s built for you from the top of the eves to the shutters, from the windows up top to the ground floor and dusty half-finished basement. You know every creaky floorboard and which steps are the ones you skip when someone’s sleeping upstairs because it always sounds so high-pitched and it wakes Jimin up, light sleeper that he is.

You hear the subtle creek of the floorboards now, the small slide of heavy boots across the wide floorboards. A creak. Someone is about to ascend the stairs, up to where you can still hear Hobi and Tae talking softly. The shower off, they're probably just getting dressed.

Softly, you hear the sound of a heavy boot hitting something metallic, one of the pennies you dropped earlier and missed.

Jin might still be in the other room, that's what you tell yourself. You're just being paranoid. stupid paranoia you almost want to laugh. you're just jumpy from the last few days- that's all. Funny of you, to make it up.

The danger is all in your head.

Only it's not,

Because the first thing you see when you peek around the corner is the pitch-dark barrel of an extended gun.

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 Every little bit of encouragement helps <3

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

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~-~

Notes:

There are some parts in this chapter, some facts about yoongi's family that haven't been touched on since the very begining chapters or jimin's secret chapters and i repeated them just so that people get a bit of a refresher but some of it feels a little monotonous to write! i hope it's not too hard to get through.

in an ideal world i would have given myself an additional week to edit this chapter, it's not the most edited and because of that i feel like it got repetitive or arduous in places.

i'm also realizing that this is like, 9th longest bts fanfic in existence. look it up on ao3 if you don't believe me. i think giving people a refresher of the begining is fair. In terms of the harry potter series (it really is a shame that no one knows who wrote it) we're just into the 6th book in terms of word count if you need that for context.

on that same vein. moonbyuls brief rant that is implied to be transphobic and sorta is- is not a reflection of my views she's just...you know...the villain?

this chapter also literally went from 8k to 14k during editing what the fuck. i stayed up till 2 am to get this done two nights in a row. i have this little nagging voice in my head that says its stupid to care about something like this but i can't help it- i love this story so much. even if this isn't the best chapter.

when the m/c has her freak out in the room where she almost passes out- that is called adrenal fatigue and it's soemthing that i struggle with as someone with ptsd. you know the feeling when you go on a rollercoaster when all of your adrenaline unloads it's self all at once? if i go through that my body goes a little haywire like- dizziness, exhaustion, dysregulation, memory fog, all of it. i still like rollercoasters though so as long i like rest and drink alot of water it doesn't affect me too much.

it's really important that you notice that no one says moonbyuls name during the moment when they're talking about their secrets between namjoon, jin, hobi, yoongi, and the m/c. i'm not telling you why just PAY ATTENTION.

Every time i think about the proverb "The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth." i think of the m/c and how thats her storyline with the family like- she really was like "either you love me or i'll kill all of you" and i think thats cute <3

In terms of why the last don and Beta killed Yoongi's parents- i think it's because yoongi's mother found out that she was pregnant with another beta and the don and beta didn't want to deal with such a divided power. They already had yoongi under their thumb and another possible successor would have over complicated things. Yoongi would have had a little sister, i don't know if he'll ever know thats why his parents where killed- he was between the ages of 16 and 18 when they died.

although this chapter was the least edited in terms of the most recent chapters- i will also say that there are two moments in this chapter- where i 'fuck up' and write things a certian way but heres the thing- they're not fuck ups and they're actually hints so! lets see if anyone notices!!

i'm gonna be honest with you guys the part where it goes "it stays there" left me fucking winded i can't even think about it too hard or else i get misty eyed.

i am catheterizing a lot of emotions writing this i am sorry it took so long to write, there is a reason why this update took a month and thats cuz yeah- my grandmother is dying. She's got cancer and She's 91 so they're not treating it. death is gonna be a /theme/ for me over the next couple of chapters, don't be surprised if I go off on a tangent or if it takes me a second between updates.

i wish i could write the m/c just a little dumber you know?

i wrote this series with the intent to write about people in realistic relationships- showing the moments they make mistakes, the moments they react too much or not enough, the way that trauma affects us all and how we handle it and love. it feels very full circle to have this chapter come out like- this is what bily is about you know? even though they'res alot of dialouge in it.

oh~ shits about to go down~

Mini-Playlist

Dominic fike- acai bowl (kinda hobi and the m/c's song for this chapter, they're going through it)

Hozier- Eat Your Young (Bekon's Choral Version) (this is literally bily's unoffical theme song at this point)

JID, Kenny Mason - Dance now (the beginning when moonbyul setting the industrial park on fire)

Frank sinatra- thats life (the song i picture playing at the end when tae and jimin are talking out their issues).

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sssammich · 8 months ago

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fic: come what may

a/n: this is a continuation of THIS post which was inspired by the fanart. please give that fanart some love if you haven't, it was so very compelling to me and that's why we're here.

anyway read the first part and then come back to this lol

---

Lena retreated to the single stall washroom after graciously thanking everyone around her for their applause and cheering. In the quiet of the small space, she was able to think about the last five minutes of her life.

It had been a week since she had spoken last with the caped hero, the word ‘villain’ rang in Lena’s ears still to this day.

It had stung her, lanced through her more like. But in this world, she had no choice but to keep moving forward if only to survive. She knew that reintegrating Lex back into her life was a risk, but what was the alternative? To let back in the one person she’d trusted with so much of herself only to be the same one who broke Lena irreparably? It figured that they would be one in the same. Supergirl had a habit of being duplicitous, after all.

Despite all of these thoughts, the dance had been more than she anticipated. For a brief moment in time, her world narrowed to the size of the dance floor when she and her former best friend twirled and glided across the space, held close to one another, swaying to the beat of the song.

Until Supergirl called out to her, the tenor of her voice bringing up a world long gone, the time together but a distant memory. Only to then ask her, “what’s your plan here, Lena?”

The illusion broke through and shattered all around them, and her eyes darkened, her heart hardened.

“You will never trust me,” she announced finally when she looked at Kara’s beautiful face, her equally beautiful blue eyes. Now, an enemy. “I can see it in your eyes.”

She pulled away and turned, not sure she could look at that face again, anymore. Still, she would admit that it was enough consolation to see Supergirl on edge, to put her on her red-booted back foot.

She recalled turning her head slightly and caught enough of Supergirl's departure from the middle of the dance floor and into the evening sky. It gave her some satisfaction, but not nearly enough to placate the ache in her chest.

Lena stared at her reflection; her makeup remained impeccably applied, impeccably in place despite the exertion of their dancing. The heat of Kara’s hands lingered all over her body, the warmth of those hands pressed into her, holding her in the illusion of safety as the song notes progressed. Her former best friend was clumsy in her movements, at least at first. It would have delighted Lena plenty to see Supergirl stumble her way through her movements. Yet, she held her own and led the two of them throughout the dance floor in an acceptable tango. On any other day, any other moment, she would have been charmed by it, let herself be led around so long as they stayed in each other's arms.

But those moments were no longer accessible to them.

She returned to her guests and maneuvered through the compliments and conversations, but every now and again, she glanced up into the open sky. Just in case.

—

In the end, Lex was defeated and rid of once and for all. The details of it were fuzzy to her now, but none of it mattered. Simply that he was gone from her life for good, that he would no longer be a terror to anyone and everyone, to those she loved.

Once again, however, she was left to pick up what remained of his ruinous rampage, if only to be surrounded by something beyond her isolation.

It was just a few scant weeks ago that she’d reached a truce with Kara and her Superfriends (nevermind that she’d once thought of them as her own friends, as well). Now here she stood weeks later: alone.

Lena had run out of options or excuses and finally sought out help from Kara without hope or expectation for true reconciliation or forgiveness, from either of them. They’d drawn their lines from one another so long ago, she’d considered them carved in stone.

Now she stood on her empty balcony overlooking the city just after the sun had set and the sky was now engulfed in dark blue.

Without a brother, a mother, a father. An orphan, twice over. It seemed that she was destined to live in solitude. They say no man was an island, yet perhaps Luthors were.

She gazed at the last remnants of the setting sun across the horizon, not giving away that she heard the sound of a cape billowing at the far end of the balcony. She made no move to say or do anything, simply took a sip of the amber liquid in her glass. If Supergirl had anything to say, then Lena was not going to stop her.

“How are you?” Kara finally said, after minutes trickled past them.

She scoffed, unable to help herself. She glanced over her shoulder and watched as Kara hovered outside of the balcony. She simply took another sip of her drink.

Kara, never one to leave well enough alone, moved so that her feet touched the ground and she stood somewhere behind her. Lena closed her eyes and took a swig of all of her remaining drink.

“You’re trespassing.”

“I know.”

“I can have you arrested.”

“That’s fine.”

“What do you want from me?”

“A dance.”

Lena quickly turned around, Kara standing only a few feet away, her arm outstretched. She glanced up and met blue eyes, an ocean of patience.

Resigned, Lena unfurled the fist by her side and placed it in the offered hand. She took a step forward until their bodies were almost flush with one another, Kara’s other hand placed on the small of her back. An easy fit between them. A thought that Lena shoved into a box for rumination and reflection later on.

“There’s no music,” she commented needlessly even as she put her free hand on Kara’s shoulder, her nerves manifesting in lightly scratching the fabric of the supersuit under her fingertips.

“There’s always music.” Just then, Kara pulled her phone from a hidden compartment behind her and pressed the screen until soft music started playing. It was the final duet in Moulin Rouge between the two leads, where she and Kara shed a tear or two when they watched it in the past—a distant lifetime ago. They were now extraordinarily different people from those versions of themselves.

“This musical was a tragedy.”

The superhero shrugged, her eyes focused past Lena’s head. “I know.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

Kara eventually returned her attention until their eyes met and Lena waited. She watched as Kara took a deep breath and offered Lena a cautious smile, resignation plastered on her own face. “I’m trying to tell you a lot of somethings.”

She studied Kara’s face, wanted to glean any kind of information from her features alone, but Kara betrayed nothing. “Start with one.”

“I’ve been practicing.” When she furrowed her brows in confusion, Kara clarified by twirling Lena out of her embrace only to pull her back into her orbit once again. This time without bumbling through any of the movements nor without a stutter in her steps.

The move surprised Lena enough to take her breath away, her senses suddenly alight as she considered what any of it meant. When? How? Why?

“Tell me another,” she whispered, her hands grasping tighter onto Kara just as the song started to swell.

“I want to start over.”

Lena stopped in her tracks so Kara did, too. Distantly, Lena observed that neither released their holds of one another.

“Why? We’ll only hurt each other.”

“Maybe. Probably,” Kara supplied before tugging Lena back closer to her and swayed side to side to encourage Lena to do the same. “But life without you in it is infinitely worse, I think. So if it’s all the same to you, I’ll take my chances.”

Lena’s heart felt like it was getting catapulted across time and space. And maybe it was actually getting catapulted along with every sway she took with Kara. Still, she couldn’t help but push. “Even with a villain?”

Kara grimaced slightly before flashing an apologetic smile. “Sure, Lena. Even with a villain.”

“I was one, you know,” she offered, watching for Kara’s response. She was complicit, had gotten her own hands dirty. She owned up to that.

“I know.” But Kara simply shrugged and brought them closer. “Believe it or not, I’ve been one, too. You’re not exactly very special in that department, Lena.”

A small laugh that bubbled out of her caught her off guard, and Kara smiled at her before spinning her away and back together again until Lena hid her face against the crook of Kara’s neck until the song finally ended.

They parted from each other, Kara taking a step back until she was a few feet away, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Thanks for the dance,” Kara said.

“You’ve gotten better.”

“I appreciate that. It means the practice has been paying off.” As if nodding to herself, Kara gave her a smile and began to turn so as to take off into the night sky, but Lena stopped her.

“Tell me one more,” she urged, realizing she didn’t want their interaction to end quite yet.

Kara then looked over her shoulder. “Can I come back tomorrow?”

“If you’d like.”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

Kara’s body twisted so she was looking at Lena more fully. “Goodnight, Lena.”

“Goodnight, Kara.”

Lena watched as she took off into the sky, disappearing into the night. She’d stayed out there for a little while longer, the heat of her drink coursing through her veins while the moment between them warmed her against the cool breeze that passed through.

Nothing had yet been fixed, and there was a long road ahead of them. But something in her caged heart had loosened, allowing her to breathe again. That was a start.

#samfic #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #some canon divergence re: s5 #supercorp sunday #totally gonna count it as that #I KNOW i have other things #don't worry about those they'll get written #but you know how the lazy susan gets #she's fickle as hell #anyway shoutout to tumblr user lililustra #for the art #I ALSO TOOK IT probably a whole different direction than their intentions but here we are #it's fine it's fine

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fathercharlesoffdensen · 6 months ago

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youtube

Ngl as a veteran Cherik shipper, Charles Xavier apologist, and someone who watched the '92 X-Men animated series, I kind of assumed going into the '97 series that Charles' death/'death' was a known 'ruse,' borne not just from the Shi'ar having the technology to keep him alive following Gyrich's assassination attempt, but also from the logic of keeping him safe/protected going forward. If some of the veteran X-Men didn't 'know' (although I question how that's possible at least with Jean) that he survived, then I figured Magneto surely did, hence Charles willing his legacy to his mutant husband. Charles seemed fully aware while still living amongst the Shi'ar of the ongoing developments regarding Genosha, almost certainly, I assumed, because it was his and Magneto's passion project. I didn't NOT expect Magneto to be jelly of Lilandra - that's part of the fun/'fun' of Cherik's dynamic, after all - but I did assume/hope that their reunion would be more of a reunion and less essentially blaming Charles for all of mutantdom's past and/or current woes.

youtube

Some choice bits from the "Graduation Day" series finale of the original X-Men animated series to 'prove' my point(s). Context: Magneto's magnetism is the only way to give the dying Xavier the energy to contact Lilandra using their "unique, personal, telepathic bond" so that he can be saved using "the superior technology of the Shi'ar," though Magneto is busy gathering mutants on Genosha.

"Don't you get it? Xavier was about as normal as we mutants get. He was famous, rich, and human-looking, and someone went after him in front of the whole world."

"Xavier ... dying? [...] A sad ending to a great life. Out of respect for Charles Xavier, I will let you all live."

A huffy Magneto, after Jean asks him, "How much do you love Charles Xavier?": "How dare you ask me such a question? He was my only equal. I owe him my life."

Jean, redux: "What would you do if you knew you were the only one on Earth who could save his life?" [Magneto: "Do not play games with me!"] Jean: "LIsten to me: A telepathic message to Lilandra is Xavier's only hope. You may be able to supercharge his mind just like you did mine. His brain waves are electromagnetic." [Magneto: "You lie to torture me."]

Scott has to weigh in, of course: "You know what you should do." [Magneto: My greatest enemy, and perhaps my only friend. But I have waited all my life for this moment!"] Scott: "Wouldn't he do it for you?"

Instructions given to Magneto when he arrives at the school: "Focus your magnetic powers on his brain waves and increase them in gradual increments. Though beware: If he should pass away while connected to you, the psychic stress may destroy you as well."

Charles (in bed [heh heh]): "Hello, Magnus. Surely you have more pressing business to attend to than nursing an old friend." [Magneto: "Nothing more important."]

Xavier's students are told that Charles "will survive," but "only under Shi'ar care": "I know you cannot bear to see him go, but it is the only way." Then, when asked whether Charles can "ever come back": "Perhaps not in body, my children, but my spirit shall remain among you where it was always meant to be."

dailymotion

TL;DR: I'm not saying Charles and Erik/Magnus becoming Chancellors of Genosha together after probably using Bastion / Mister Sinister / Jean / Madelyne / etc. to 'fix' / reverse the damage from the recent staged terrorist attack and then Marvel allowing them to get married (extremely belatedly) just in time for Pride Month is the only appropriate way to end season one of X-Men 97, but ... we're so close to an extremely gay Cherik reconciliation and validation since the '60s, and yet still so far away.

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atlabeth · 2 years ago

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everything happens for a reason part 20 - zuko x fem!reader

Guess it's true, I'm never getting over you

part 19 | masterlist | part 21

a/n: holy shit guys. we're finally here. the title chapter, the part that officially puts us over the 100k mark, the turning point, the end of the constant mf angst that i've put you all through. that's right. it's finally time for yn and zuko's life changing field trip. ive had this idea down for so long and i can't believe we're actually here lol. buckle up because she's a very long and very emotional one. i hope you enjoy.

wc: 14.3k I KNOW IM SORRY

warning(s): a lot of angst, fighting, violence (including minor character death), a whole lot of emotions, but the fluffy reconciliation you've all been waiting for<3

chapter title comes from everything happens for a reason (!!!!!!) by madison beer

Y/N felt betrayed.

It wasn’t a secret how she felt about Zuko. She avoided him at every possible moment, making herself scarce whenever he walked into a room or completely ignoring him in group conversation—it was the closest she could get to the civility required now that he was Aang’s firebending teacher, and even that was difficult.

Not because she didn’t want anything to do with Zuko—no, it was becoming the opposite, and it scared her more than anything.

She found herself thinking of him more often than not. And not of the North, or their meetings along their journey, not the catacombs—she found herself recalling the more pleasant memories.

The time they spent together whenever they could when she was still a servant and he was still a prince. The sunset they shared together the night before her life was turned upside down. Those afternoons when she would visit him in the tea shop, talking like they used to, smiling like they used to.

Remembering him for who he was rather than who he had become was dangerous. It was how she got her heart broken in the first place, how she went through some of the worst months of her life.

He couldn’t hurt her again if she didn’t give him the chance to. So she wouldn’t.

But it was getting harder and harder to avoid him, because one by one, her friends forgave him.

First, she’d heard, was Toph. She didn’t have any kind of grudge against him, and she was able to make up for him burning her feet tenfold now that he was part of the team.

Next was Aang. He was already far too forgiving, the amount of grace inside of him more than Y/N could even hope to muster. They proved themselves in front of the last dragons together, and apparently that was enough for Aang to trust him.

It took Sokka a bit longer, but after what they pulled off at the Boiling Rock together, he didn’t seem to have a hard time getting along with Zuko. The fact that he helped save Y/N and Suki probably didn’t hurt his chances either.

Zuko had burned down Suki’s village, but Y/N still remembered what she told him in the courtyard—”if you can get me out of here, you’re forgiven. Kyoshi’s fans, I’ll be your best friend.” They weren’t exactly that close, but they worked together, and that was enough.

Katara, it seemed, was the only one who still shared Y/N’s scorned feelings. They held onto each other like a lifeline, feeding off of the other in their hatred. It might not have been the healthiest option, but they refused to forgive Zuko. They stewed in their hurt, and it felt good. It felt good to have a target for their bitterness rather than the abstract ideal of betrayal, and Zuko worked just fine.

After they had fought against Azula, the night they settled on a random Fire Nation island, the two of them sat together on the outskirts of camp. They were meant to be keeping watch together, but instead they made quiet conversation.

“So,” Katara said, “today was… something.”

“That’s one way to say it,” Y/N said wryly. “Since joining you guys, I’ve had enough action for a lifetime. I can’t wait for all this to be over.”

Katara smiled, but it was wistful. “Neither can I. This has all gone on for so long—all I want is peace.”

A memory flashed through her mind—frantic screams, desperate pleading, flames devouring centuries of life—and Y/N swallowed thickly as she tried to push it away. The closer the day came, the more the memories would appear. It happened every year, but this time it was worse.

“Me too,” she murmured. “More than anything.”

Katara looked at her for a moment, her gaze softening before she finally spoke. “Are you okay? I… I know today wasn’t easy.”

Y/N managed a thin smile, but it wasn’t convincing. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Katara said dryly. “We look out for each other—we always have, even from the first day we met. But it’s like you’re trying to make it as hard as possible for me to care about you.”

“One of my many skills,” she said sarcastically, but Katara didn’t laugh. Y/N sighed in response, long and deep, and allowed her gaze to drift into the murky distance. At nighttime, the water and the sky became one. It was calming. “I just…” she shook her head, “I don’t know what to do.”

“With Zuko,” she guessed.

“With everything,” Y/N said, but then she sighed again. “...Zuko included.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Katara said quietly. “Not after everything he’s put you through.”

“I keep telling myself that,” she murmured. “But there’s something inside of me that I can’t get rid of.” She looked at Katara, the beginnings of tears glimmering in her eyes. “There— there’s this hope that I can’t get rid of, that things could be the way they used to be again. And— and last time I felt that way was in Ba Sing Se, and I know where that got me, so—”

Katara stayed silent, only taking her hand to acknowledge her while allowing her to continue. It was a lifeline to her, one sorely needed, and she let out a shaky breath.

“So why do I still feel that way?” she asked, almost desperately. “How have they all forgiven him so easily? They know what he did— spirits, Aang died because of him— but they’re all able to sit around and joke with him like nothing happened.”

“They didn’t trust him the way we did,” Katara said with a quiet anger. “They didn’t trust him the way we did, so it didn’t hurt them the way it hurt us.”

“I don’t want to forgive him,” Y/N said weakly. “But the thought of losing him hurts so much. Why does it hurt so much?”

“I don’t know,” Katara murmured. “I… I don’t know.”

Y/N flinched as a tear rolled down her cheek and fell to the ground below, and she instinctively wiped it away. She couldn’t show weakness.

She grimaced at the thought. How long would that wretched place stay with her?

“I’ll give you some time.” Katara’s expression was pained as she squeezed her hand. She didn’t want to leave her alone, but Y/N was thankful for it. Right now she just needed to feel miserable by herself, without bringing Katara down with her.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Katara nodded as she stood up. “You can sleep in my tent tonight. Or if you decide you want to talk, come bother me. I promise it’ll be okay.”

Y/N nodded, the action a bit numb, and she could feel Katara’s eyes on her as she lingered. But eventually she mustered the strength to leave, and Y/N was left with her thoughts.

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat as she stared up at the sky. She tried to find the constellation her father taught her when she was a mere child—the tiger seal.

It was a jumble of stars that didn’t even remotely resemble the animal, but she remembered late nights spent stargazing on the ground outside their house, giggling endlessly as her father would point out various other constellations that he made up on his own. It would last until her mother would come out and tell them it was far past your bedtime, young lady, but she would never hide her smile as they ambled back inside.

The memory made a smile of her own emerge, but she soon realized she was fully in tears. They slid down her cheeks, falling onto the dirt and stones jutting out of the cliffside.

She couldn’t stop thinking of Zuko. She couldn’t stop thinking of her father. She felt so deeply broken in a way that she had no idea how to fix, in a way that was threatening to consume her.

She had her life back. Everything should have been back to normal.

But instead, she felt more lost than ever.

Y/N ended up taking Katara’s offer of sleeping in her tent, and she was glad she did. The familiarity of it all made her heart ache, but she was thankful for it. Thankful that she had friends like these who wouldn’t let her push them away, no matter how much her newly wired instincts told her it was the right thing to do.

She was visited by her childhood in her dreams yet again. She saw her father and her mother, walking hand in hand with smiles on their faces as they trailed behind a young Y/N skipping through the village paths.

She saw her child self running, screaming and laughing in equal parts as she was chased by the boy marked as the tagger, only to stagger backwards after running into one of the adults. But she was greeted by the smiling face of her father. The boy tapped her on the shoulder and ran off laughing, but her father knelt down to her level and looked at her completely seriously.

“I guess that means we’re the taggers now, huh?” And with that, the two of them ran around the village tagging everyone they could with the seriously unfair advantage.

She saw the moment after she’d learned how to waterbend, sprinting through the whole village to find her father, drag him to the lake, and show him her new skill. Gan held all the stars in his eyes as he watched her bend, and even though it was the simplest thing she could’ve done he praised her to no end.

The absence of scars, the smoothness of her skin, a bright smile that shone through her—she was unmarked by the world then. Hopeful, content, naive.

When she woke up with still-wet tear tracks on her cheeks, it wasn't a surprise. She woke up like this more often than not.

One week. Seven days. And then she would go to face something she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

But for now, there was something else to focus on. She could hear loud voices outside of the tent—all familiar, thankfully—but she knew that meant she had overslept.

Y/N fixed her hair and her clothes, rubbing furiously at her face to get rid of any signs of her previous emotions, and emerged from the tent to see her friends all standing around Appa.

“—about getting closure and justice,” she heard Zuko say, and her brows instinctively creased.

“What’s going on?” Y/N asked, crossing her arms as she stopped between Sokka and Zuko. “What are you all talking about?”

Zuko’s eyes widened slightly as he looked at her. “Uh— good morning.”

“Good morning,” she said stiffly before repeating herself. “What’s going on?”

“Zuko knows where to find the man who killed our mother,” Sokka said. He was oddly quiet.

“And Katara wants to find him,” Aang said, his expression uneasy.

“Is there a problem with that?” Katara asked defensively.

“Not if Zuko’s right and you just want closure,” he said. “But I don’t think that’s what this is about. I think it’s about getting revenge.”

“Maybe it is!” Katara exclaimed, gesturing with one hand. “Maybe it is about revenge, Aang. But don’t you think I deserve it?”

“You don’t know what it will do to you,” Aang said. “I know how you feel right now, trust me—like violence is the only way to solve your problem. I felt that way after I discovered what happened to my people. But it’s not the only way.”

“I can’t let him go now that I know I can get to him!” she yelled, her voice rising with her anger. “Maybe it’s what I need—maybe it’s what he deserves.”

Aang’s eyes widened slightly. “Katara, you sound like Jet.”

“That’s not the same,” she snapped. “Jet hurt the innocent. This man— he’s not innocent. He’s a monster.”

“Katara, she was my mother too, but I think Aang might be right,” Sokka said.

She set her jaw. “Then you didn’t love her the way I did.”

Sokka took a step back as his eyes widened. “Katara…”

“The monks used to say that revenge is like a two-headed rat viper.” Aang spoke up quickly, trying to fill the air after what she’d said. “While you watch your enemy go down, you’re being poisoned yourself.”

“That’s cute, but this isn’t Air Temple preschool,” Zuko said. “It’s the real world.”

“And you think he hasn’t experienced the real world?” Y/N snapped. “I think he knows a little bit about grief after what’s happened to him.”

Zuko looked at her with a surprisingly level expression, contrasting her narrowed eyes and upturned lip. “Monk pacifism isn’t going to help here.”

Y/N opened her mouth to retort back but Aang stopped her. “It’s okay. I forgive you, Zuko.” He looked at Katara. “That’s what you need to do. Forgiveness.”

Katara laughed in disbelief. “You want me to forgive the man who murdered my mother?”

“Of course not!” Aang said. “You need to face him—I understand that. But when you face him, you can’t kill him. You have to let the anger flow through you, and then out of you. Accept your emotions, then let them go.”

“Why should he get to live when our mother is gone?” Katara shouted. “I don’t want to forgive him, I want revenge!”

“Killing him won’t bring our mother back,” Sokka murmured. “You’ll just have someone else’s blood on your hands.”

“Good,” she said coldly. “An eye for an eye.”

“Makes the whole world go blind,” Aang finished. “One of the monks said that back in the temple—violence might feel right, but it just hurts everyone more. Forgiveness is the right choice.”

“Forgiveness is the same as doing nothing,” Zuko said.

“No, it’s not,” he said. “It’s easy to do nothing—forgiveness is hard.”

“It’s not just hard,” Katara snarled, “it’s impossible.”

Aang looked over at Y/N, who had been silent since her outburst at Zuko. “Y/N, please. You know revenge won’t help her.”

Y/N looked between the two of them, the steely determination brewing in Katara’s eyes at odds with a desperate softness in Aang’s. Something twisted in her chest, and she had to force herself to look away as she spoke.

“...Do what you have to,” she said quietly. “Whatever that ends up being.”

Hurt flickered across Aang’s expression before he looked away, and Katara nodded thankfully at her before she started walking away. Zuko cast a long look at Y/N before he followed her.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Y/N muttered as she hurried off in the opposite direction, swallowing her doubts as her hands bunched into fists and loosened over and over, desperately needing something to do with them.

Katara was going after her mother’s killer, and Zuko was helping her with it. Katara, her last line of defense in her feelings against him, was going on her own trip with him. Y/N knew it was for the best—it was something she needed to do and Zuko had the Fire Nation knowledge that no one else in their group possessed, so he was the obvious choice—but a small part of her still couldn’t help but despise it.

He was getting too close, far too close, and she wasn’t going to let that affect her.

No matter what.

Y/N had found a small solace by the cliffside, sitting on the edge as her legs hung off. She could fall just as easily as anything, but maybe it was the danger that calmed her, the fact that she was in control of what would happen. She heard the footsteps before anything though, and her body tensed up instinctively as she whirled around.

“It’s just me,” Toph said, her blank gaze aimed at the ground. “You’re jumpier than usual.”

“How can you tell?”

“I can hear every ant on this cliffside through their movements,” she said. “Your heart rate spiked so much that even a baby could tell you’re off. You’ve been off, ever since you came back.”

She smiled wryly. “I’m still getting used to everything again. It’s not an easy transition.”

“But you’re here,” Toph said, and she sat down next to her. “You’ve been through everything, and you’re still here. That means you’re tougher than everything the Fire Nation has tried to throw at you.”

“How can you say that so easily?” Y/N asked. “I’ve flipped out on everyone at least twice for no reason. I constantly have nightmares about what’s happened. I— I can’t even bend because Zuko still has this stupid hold on me. I don’t feel tough. I feel weaker than ever.”

“You’re still here,” Toph repeated, emphasizing each word. “So many other people would have given up by now if they were in your position. But you didn’t—you fought, and you continued to fight until you won, no matter how long it took you. That’s what makes you tough—not all the stuff you’ve been through, but the fact that you’re still standing at the end of it.”

“When did you become so wise?” she joked weakly, her gaze trailing off into the horizon. The sun was beginning to set, beautiful reds and oranges blending with deep purple. It reminded her of the night everything changed.

“Someone had to keep these dunderheads together while you were busy in prison.” Y/N chuckled a bit, but she could see Toph’s expression sober in her peripherals. “...I’ve just been worried about you.”

“Really?”

Toph punched her on the arm without looking. “Does that make you believe me?”

Y/N managed a small smile as she rubbed the spot. “Yeah.”

“Good. Because I don’t know how much sappy stuff I can take.”

Her smile widened as she wrapped an arm around Toph and pulled her closer. “So you do love me.”

“Let go of me!” she protested. “This is the worst kind of sappy stuff!”

But Toph made no move to get away from her, and Y/N laughed. “Just admit it. You missed me.”

“Of course I missed you,” she huffed. “Without you, I actually had to do all the work with Katara instead of knocking Twinkle Toes around with earthbending or practicing on my own. It was horrible.”

“I missed you too, Toph,” Y/N said with a smile. “I didn’t realize how much I appreciated your tough love until I didn’t have it.”

“I have plenty saved up for you, Snowflake,” Toph grinned, “so don’t worry.” But her expression sobered, and she paused.

“...I’m here for you,” she said after a moment. “If you need anything, or just someone to listen to. I’m good at listening to people complain.”

“Thank you,” she said, her smile softening. “That means more than you know.”

And as the two of them sat there in silence, nothing being said verbally but more in the air between them than ever, she felt content once again. She didn’t realize how much she just needed to talk to somebody. First her conversation with Katara and now with Toph—her friends really were the secret to making her feel better.

…Things would be okay again, Y/N thought to herself. No matter how long it took, her friends would be there for her.

Things would be okay again.

She would be okay again.

“They’ve been gone for too long,” Sokka grumbled.

“It’s been two days,” Aang said. “Zuko said the man they were after was retired—it can’t be easy to find a retired Fire Nation soldier, no matter how knowledgeable you are about the navy.”

“That’s too long,” Sokka insisted as he crossed his arms. While Y/N, Aang, Suki, Toph sat together in a loose arc, Sokka was up and pacing. He had been for the past twenty minutes.

“Can you sit down, Sokka?” Y/N asked. “You’re stressing me out.”

“You should be stressed out!” he exclaimed, flinging his arms up. “The boy prince of betrayal went off with my impressionable sister on a murder field trip. There is no reason to not be stressed out!”

“You need to give Sugar Queen more credit,” Toph said. “If Zuko tries anything, he’s the one that should be worried. Not the other way around.”

“Toph’s right,” Aang said, but then he frowned. “And I thought you trusted Zuko.”

“Not when he’s alone with my sister on a murder field trip!” Sokka heaved a long sigh as he stopped, staring out into the distance. Even though their island was one of a big scattered chain, they were still extremely isolated. It was unnerving sometimes, especially at night. “She feels everything so strongly, and… and she’s always felt guilty about what happened to Mom. I know she thinks this is her chance to make it up to her, to do what she wished she could have done on that day. But I also know that if she goes through with it, she’ll regret it for the rest of her life.”

“She’ll make the right choice,” Y/N murmured. “I know she will.”

Aang suddenly perked up, and he turned around. When he did, his eyes widened. “They’re back.”

They all turned around to see Appa touching down at camp, but only one person dismounted.

“Where’s Katara?” Y/N instantly asked, her eyes narrowing as she darted up.

“She’s fine,” Zuko said, but when he glanced at Aang she could see his nerves. “She… she’s back at the dock. At the soldier’s village.”

“Did she…?” Aang didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to.

“No. He’s terrified out of his mind, but he’s alive.” A weight was visibly lifted off of Sokka’s shoulders with the single word, and Aang nodded.

“That’s… that’s good.”

“She said she needed some time to herself,” Zuko murmured. “I figured it was only right to bring you back with me.”

“I’m coming too,” Sokka said.

“Me too,” Y/N spoke up. She could feel Zuko’s gaze on her, but she didn’t meet it.

“I’ll stay back,” Toph said. “Someone has to hold this place down.”

“I will too,” Suki said, and she gave Sokka a light kiss on the cheek. “I hope she’s okay.”

“She will be,” Sokka said softly. “Eventually.”

Zuko nodded and started walking back towards Appa. “Let’s get back, then. It’s a bit of a ride.”

Soon enough, they were all in the village, and Aang jumped off Appa as soon as he’d guided him close enough.

“Katara!” he exclaimed as he ran towards her, sitting on the edge of the dock. “Are you okay?”

“I’m doing fine,” she murmured. Her voice was placid as the water she sat above, but it was strained.

“Zuko told me what you did,” Aang said softly. “Or… what you didn’t do, I guess. I’m proud of you.”

“I wanted to do it,” she said stiffly. “I wanted to take out all my anger on him, and I almost did. But… but I just couldn’t. I don’t know if it’s because I’m too weak to do it or strong enough not to.”

“You did the right thing,” Y/N said. “Facing that man makes you stronger than he could ever hope to be.”

“Forgiveness is the first step you have to take towards healing,” Aang said.

Katara stood up, and her gaze was a mixture of sadness and acceptance. But it was obvious the ordeal was still weighing on her. “I didn’t forgive him. I’ll never forgive him. But…” she looked past them and over at Zuko, the smallest of smiles pulling at her lips. “...I am ready to forgive you.”

She walked up to Zuko and hugged him, and after a moment of hesitation Zuko smiled and wrapped his arms around her. Y/N clenched her jaw and started walking back over to Appa.

She was happy Katara got closure, of course she was. But in the process, she had forgiven Zuko. She was her confidante, the one person who understood how deep her anger towards him went. She had been by Y/N’s side throughout their whole journey, at each and every road block, she was there for Ba Sing Se—for all of Ba Sing Se.

And somehow, Zuko had gotten her to forgive him too.

It was selfish, unbelievably so, for it to hurt her so much when Katara had just faced something impossible. But she couldn’t help the way that her chest twisted, how her heart ached, how her nails dug so deep into her palms they left indentations.

When the rest of them got back onto Appa, Katara sat down next to her. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course.” She didn’t make eye contact, her gaze focused into the distance as Aang set off for camp. “I’m glad you got to face him. That you made the right decision for you.”

“Y/N,” she murmured, “I know what this is about.”

“It’s not about anything except you,” she evaded. “This was a journey you had to take—we’re all behind you.”

“And you have all my thanks for that,” Katara said. She glanced at Zuko on the other side of the saddle, very obviously trying to pretend like he wasn’t listening in on their conversation. He wasn’t very good at it. “But I know you’re upset about… that.”

“We don’t need to talk about this right now,” she said.

“Y/N…”

She didn’t say anything. Katara sighed and settled back down on the saddle.

“Okay,” she nodded. “When you’re ready.”

Quiet conversation was made on the other side of the saddle between the three boys, but there was nothing between Katara and Y/N.

Nothing except a newly found weight on both their shoulders.

The sizzling fuse exploded when they got back to camp, though. A ride spent staring at the sky didn’t do much for her. Y/N got down from Appa the moment Aang guided him to the ground, and Katara let out a hefty sigh as she followed after her. She started to say her name, but she didn’t get far.

“Even you forgave him.” Her words were cold, icy rather than hot anger. “Even you! After everything we’ve talked about— everything you know!”

“I— I know,” Katara said, and she let out a deep sigh as she ran a hand through her loose hair. “But… but he helped me in a way that no one ever had. I found my mother’s killer. I got closure.”

“Well, maybe I should get him to help me find the guard who killed my father,” Y/N said sarcastically. “Maybe that’ll get me my bending back.”

“It could,” Katara said, and she was actually genuine. “It could work. And Zuko would help you.”

She huffed a mirthless laugh and shook her head, biting the inside of her lip to prevent the tears she knew would start welling up. “I’m not letting him back in. Even you said I shouldn’t.”

“I can’t say I know how much you’re hurting,” Katara said, “but… but Zuko is hurting just as much as you. There’s no excuse for what he did, I’m not saying that. But he wants your forgiveness more than anything in the world.”

“Did he tell you to say this during your trip?” she asked stiffly. “I mean, now that he’s turned you over to his side and everything.”

“I’m saying this because I care about you,” Katara said softly. “Y/N, I have seen you hurting for months now, all because of Zuko. Even from the first moment we met in the North, I knew there was something inside of you, and it’s still there. And if you don’t take care of it, it’s going to consume you.”

“I can’t forgive him.” Her voice was barely a whisper, a cracked, haunted resolve behind it. “I won’t let myself get hurt again.”

“And I can’t promise that he won’t hurt you again,” Katara murmured. “But I do know if you decide to let him back in, he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to you.”

Y/N wasn’t able to muster any words. She wrapped her arms around her midsection and turned away, blinking back tears.

“He talked about you,” she continued. “When he wasn’t talking about the Fire Nation and where we were going, he was talking about you. He loved you back then, and he still loves you now. Even if it took him way too long to realize it.” Katara’s expression softened as well as her voice and she took a step closer. “All he wants is to help you however he can.”

“If he loved me then and he still betrayed me,” she whispered, “then how can I ever trust him again?”

“...You just have to,” Katara said quietly. “Trust in the Zuko you knew before you were forced to be on opposite sides. When the two of you were the missing half of each other’s souls.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, still unable to look back at Katara. “I can’t.”

“Then at least don’t push us away,” Katara urged. “You’ve been off. I don’t know what it’s about, but you can tell me as little or as much as you want, whenever you’re ready. I’m here for you—we’re all here for you, Y/N. We love you so much. Let us help you.”

She bit down on her lip hard to prevent the tears from welling up, and she was only able to muster a nod. “I will. Soon.”

“...Okay.”

Y/N walked off, and she could feel Katara’s worried gaze on her. It took all her strength not to look back.

Three days.

It all went on as usual. Suki asked if she was okay, but she didn’t push.

Sokka wouldn’t stop looking at her strangely. He must have heard her leaving her tent in the middle of the night.

Two days.

The nightmares were worse. She nearly woke up screaming. Thankfully, she didn’t wake Katara.

Aang sat with her during breakfast, telling ancient airbender stories. He didn’t ask anything when he had to repeat himself because of her blank stare at the ground.

She spent most of the day sitting by the water.

Maybe it would come back after this.

One day.

Everyone knew something was wrong, but she didn’t give any of them the chance to ask.

Especially Zuko. He wouldn’t stop looking at her, wouldn’t stop trying to talk to her. She brushed him off every time.

She packed her bag that night.

She barely slept a wink.

“What are you doing?”

Her plan was to leave at the crack of dawn, before her friends could ask any questions or try to go with her. She would be back by nightfall, and she would have closure. The nightmares would stop. The guilt would go away. She would be okay again.

But of course, he had to ruin everything.

She didn’t look over at the sound of Zuko’s voice as she rifled through her bag, making sure she had everything she needed. “Nothing.”

“That doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Very perceptive, aren’t you?” she said dryly. Y/N tied her bag shut and stood up, then climbed onto Appa’s back. “I’m leaving.”

His eyes widened. “You’re leaving? Does everyone else know about this?”

“Not leaving for good,” she scoffed. “I just have something I need to do.”

“And that is?”

Y/N glared fully at Zuko. “None of your business.”

“You’re taking Appa in the middle of the night to go somewhere,” he said, crossing his arms. “Every time someone’s tried to do that, it’s been for something important. Sokka was going to the Boiling Rock, and Katara wanted to find her mother’s killer. I’m guessing whatever you’re going to do is equally important, which means you’re gonna need backup.”

“I said it was none of your business,” she repeated. “I can handle myself just fine without you.”

“Well,” Zuko crossed his arms, “I’m not leaving until you tell me what you’re doing.”

“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” she jabbed.

“You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met,” he responded with a shrug.

She went silent for a moment as her gaze traveled away, staring instead at the dark night sky. Today had been the hardest day yet, even looking back on her months in captivity. It was the day everything changed. She didn’t exactly know what possessed her to tell Zuko the reason, but after a moment, she did.

“Seven years ago today, my village was invaded,” she said quietly. “It’s the day my mother and I were captured, and… and the day my father was killed.”

Zuko’s eyes widened, and his voice was the same as hers when he finally mustered something. “I… I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

“So am I,” she said, “but apologies haven’t helped me with anything. I’m going back. I’m visiting my village for the first time since my mother and I were taken. Now that I have the means to travel there, it’s something I need to do.”

“I understand,” Zuko said, “completely. I’ll come with you.”

Her response was instantaneous. “No.”

“You can’t travel that far alone,” he insisted. “I have no doubt that you can handle yourself, but you’ve trained to fight with your bending, and right now you don’t have it. If you run into any kind of trouble, you’re… well, you’re gonna be in trouble.”

“I can fight,” she said. “I’m good with my fists. I held my own against Azula.”

“You did,” he admitted, “but her skill also isn’t in her hand to hand. And if you’re up against multiple people—say, Fire Nation guards—you’re gonna go down quick.”

“You have just as much faith in me as ever,” she remarked sourly.

“It’s not that I don’t have faith in you!” Zuko defended. “I just don’t want you to die because you have too much pride to accept any kind of help.”

“It’s not that I don’t want any help,” she stated. “I just don’t want your help.”

Zuko let out a long-lasting sigh, shaking his head before he finally met her eyes again. “Look. I know you don’t like me, and you don’t have to. Not after… not after what I did. But whatever’s between us can’t affect our mission, because ultimately we’re all here to defeat my father. That has to happen no matter what, so like it or not, we’re probably gonna have to work together at least once to make that happen.”

“I don’t have to work with you if I don’t want to,” she said.

“Really? So if we’re in the middle of a fight and your choice is to either work with me or die, what would you do?”

“I’m not that stupid,” she snapped.

Annoyingly, though… he had a point. They couldn’t afford any distractions, not so close to the end. And Y/N wouldn’t be the reason for their failure because of Zuko.

“...Fine,” she relented, but the glare she pinned him with was still withering. “But you do whatever I tell you to do, and you don’t come with me when we get to my village. This is private.”

Zuko immediately broke out into a grin and he nodded. “Of course. I’m here for you.”

She averted her gaze as she took her seat on Appa’s head. “Get your things before I leave you here.”

He nodded again and he started off towards his tent. Y/N let out a loose sigh as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms, the early morning chill beginning to get to her.

A trip with Zuko to her childhood village on the anniversary of the worst day of her life.

This couldn’t go terribly at all, she thought wryly.

“...So,” Zuko said, “do you know where we’re going?”

“No,” she said, “I just thought I would lead Appa around blindly and hope that we somehow end up in the right place.”

“So you do know—”

“Of course I know where we’re going,” Y/N snapped. Maybe it was unfair of her, but she didn’t exactly care. “Sokka took a map from Wan Shi Tong’s library before it collapsed, and he let me borrow it. It’ll take us a couple of hours, but we should make it before noon.”

Zuko nodded. “Where is your village? You never told me much about it when you talked about your past.”

“Why do you care?”

He huffed a laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

She said nothing, and Zuko sighed. “I care about you, Y/N, more than anything. I’m here because I want to help you. Of course I care about where you’re from.”

“That doesn’t mean we need all the small talk,” she said.

“It’s not small talk, it’s a conversation,” Zuko said dryly. “I’m more than happy to sit here in silence with you for another six hours, but I think that’s pretty boring.”

“...It’s by the southern coast, near the Zeizhou provinces,” she relented after a moment. “It’s so small that you can’t find it on a map unless you know what you’re looking for. We didn’t even have an official name—if we had to, we called it South Zeizhou because that was the only notable thing near us.”

“What was it like?” he asked. “Growing up in a place like that.”

“It was nice,” she said. “We were almost completely isolated from other villages, so we were tightly knit. Everyone knew each other—I’m sure I knew each person by name by the time I was five—and everyone helped each other. We didn’t have much, but everyone was well taken care of. Our community was everything.”

“That sounds beautiful,” Zuko murmured.

“It was,” she agreed. “Until your people invaded it and destroyed it.”

Zuko went silent at that, but instead of the sick sort of satisfaction she normally experienced, she felt… guilty.

It wasn’t his fault. Zuko was only a year older than her—when her village was invaded, he was probably in school lessons or learning how to be a prince. And now he was here, going against everything he knew, everything he’d ever had, to try and make things right.

He was a child just like her. And with a father like Fire Lord Ozai…

“...I’m sorry,” she said, and his eyes darted up, a bit of shock visible in them. “I know it wasn’t your fault. I just…” she sighed. “I’ve never forgiven the Fire Nation for what was done to my people. And I guess you’re just the easiest target.”

“I understand,” he murmured. “And for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”

“This doesn’t mean anything.” The words were quick to leave her mouth, and she didn’t look at him. “Just because I feel bad doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you.” Nevertheless, she could still hear the smile in his voice.

“I know.”

More silence.

“What was your father like?” Zuko asked as he broke it. “You speak of him so fondly.”

She bit her lip at the question as the memories flooded back, and Zuko was stumbling over his words almost immediately.

“You— you don’t have to answer,” he said, “obviously, if it’s too much, but I—”

“He was the nicest man you’d ever meet,” she said softly. “He was always willing to help anyone who needed it, always willing to do far more than he had to if he thought it would make someone happy. And he did—he made my mother the happiest woman alive. He was beloved by everyone in the village.” Y/N swallowed hard. “He died to protect it. To protect me.”

“You’ve made him proud,” Zuko said. “I know you have.”

“I hope so,” she murmured. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

She meant to leave it at that, but for some reason, the words continued to flow. “But I… I’m worried about what will happen when I get there.” that they won’t recognize me when I come back.”

Zuko frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s been years since I was there.” Y/N let go of the reins and wrung her hands together. She glanced down at the bandages, the rough fabric almost a comfort after her time without them. “I haven’t been back since I was captured. What if they resent me for not being there?”

“No one could possibly resent you for that,” he scoffed. “You were taken, Y/N, by soldiers. You were a child—what could you have done?”

“Anything,” she muttered. “If I had done anything, maybe things would have been different.”

“You can’t do that to yourself,” Zuko insisted. “You’ll drive yourself insane going down that path.”

She shrugged. “That doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

“Look at me.”

Y/N frowned. “What?”

“Turn around and look at me,” he said again. “And don’t do your stubborn I hate Zuko thing. Just humor me for once.”

She scoffed and crossed her arms as she turned around, looking him in the eye. “What?”

“Do you think it’s Katara’s fault that her mother is dead?”

The jump to the topic made her blink, recoiling the slightest bit. “What? No— spirits, of course not.”

“But she died to save her,” Zuko said. “The raiders were there looking for the last waterbender, and that was Katara. Her mother gave herself up in place of her.”

“That’s not her fault,” she said. “Her mother ch—”

It hit her then, and her eyes narrowed. “You’re not clever.”

The slightest smile tugged at Zuko’s lips and he shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“You’re not clever,” she simply repeated, and she turned back around and grabbed the reins. She couldn’t see Zuko’s pleased expression as he adjusted his position in the saddle.

“Just trying to help,” he said, and his voice softened. “You’ve made your father proud, even if you don’t think so. You’ve made both your parents proud.”

She didn’t respond. She feared that if she tried to, the tears would spring. And she wasn’t going to cry.

But she appreciated his words more than he knew. Maybe even more than she knew.

But she couldn’t say that. And so they rode in silence.

“We’re almost here,” she announced, and she lightly tugged at Appa’s reins to get him to slow down. It had been a few hours of silent flying and navigating, but they’d made good time. By the spot of the sun in the sky, she could tell it was just before noon.

“Good,” he said.

They had been in the air for hours, starting even before the sun had risen, so it was no surprise when she glanced behind her and saw Zuko fighting off grogginess in the form of a barely stifled yawn.

“You didn’t have to come, you know,” she said, maybe a little too snippy.

“I wasn’t going to let you go alone,” Zuko said. “And even though you might not think so, I like being around you. I…” he sighed and shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“What?”

“I just want things to be the way they used to be,” he murmured. “But I know that can’t happen. And I know you’re tired of hearing it.”

“...I want that too,” she said quietly after a moment of hesitation.

She heard the rustling of leather and a sharp intake of breath, and it wasn’t hard to tell he was shocked by her words. And maybe she was shocked too, because she knew she meant them completely.

“Y/N,” Zuko started, “you—”

But then he was interrupted by her gasp.

“What?” he asked, only a moment of hesitation before he switched veins. He moved up beside her, and his eyes widened. “Flames of Agni…”

In the distance, she could see where the forest abruptly stopped. It went on for kilometers, the ashy remnants of fauna and chopped stumps. So much of the forest was just— was just gone. And in the center of it all…

Her village was unrecognizable. Houses made of wood and stone had been torn down and replaced with metal buildings, and the few original buildings that still were in disrepair, riddled with scorch marks and on the verge of falling apart. She could see armed Fire Nation soldiers manning certain spots around the village, as well as marching through the streets. They numbered far more than anyone in simple Earth Kingdom garb.

Flags and banners with Fire Nation insignias hung everywhere, but the worst part was the factory. It was as big as ten of their old homes, black, polished metal only good for serving as an eyesore. It pumped out acrid black smoke, and even from so far away it made her eyes sting. Her hands clenched into fists around the reins, and anger swelled up inside of her.

Everything that was held sacred in her village was gone, ruined by the Fire Nation for their own gain. Just like everything else in the world.

And she hadn’t even known about it.

“The Fire Nation is still here,” she said shakily. “I… I don’t know what I expected. I thought they would move on after the raid, but…” She barely managed to choke back a sob by clenching her jaw tightly. “They destroyed it all.”

“I’m so sorry.” There was horror in Zuko’s voice, and like her, he was unable to look away from the devastation. “I… If I had known…”

“Sorry isn’t going to fix anything,” she said bitterly, but it was more pained than anything.

“Then we will fix it,” he countered. Her eyes flicked up to him, the smallest bit of surprise visible. “We’ll take your village back and get the Fire Nation out, once and for all.”

Y/N’s grip tightened even further on the reins, her nails digging deep into her palms as she nodded. Her eyes hardened as they moved back to her village, and she nodded resolutely.

“You’re damn right we will.”

“Are you okay?”

“Of course I’m not okay,” she said. She wanted to snap at him, but she didn’t have the energy. Not after what she’d seen.

She and Zuko had set up camp a while away from her village, deep in what remained of the forest to give Appa enough cover. Though she wanted to light a fire, she knew it was too risky. And so they sat together on the ashy, barren ground, the air between them heavier than ever.

They were going to take back her village, that much was a given. The only question was how.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “It was a stupid question.”

“I just don’t understand,” she said weakly as she sat back on the ground. “Why would they stay in our village? We’re so far off the map that it’s probably costing them more to be here than not.”

“That’s what the Fire Nation does,” Zuko said. “They destroy everything they get their hands on.”

When Y/N looked up at him, he was staring at the ground, his jaw clenched.

“It’s about breaking their spirit,” he continued. “If they just left, your people could fight back. Get revenge for the invasion. But if they take over completely—”

“They crush an uprising before it has the chance to grow,” she murmured, “and they gain a workforce and all the natural resources they could want.”

“Yeah.”

Zuko’s voice was oddly quiet, stilted in a way she couldn’t place. She couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“What happened when you went back to the Fire Nation?”

Zuko glanced at her, swallowing hard before he looked away. “I’m not sure you want to know.”

“I do,” she said. “And I think I have the right to know.”

“Mai and I got together.” He sounded almost embarrassed, and she hated the twist of jealousy in her chest. “We talked during the entire boat ride home, and it went from there.”

“Oh,” she said stiffly. “So while I was sentenced to rot in prison for the rest of my life, you were getting busy with the girl who’s loved you her whole life.”

His cheeks flushed bright red in spite of the obvious anger. “That’s not what it was!”

“Really? Because that’s exactly what it sounds like.”

“We were both struggling,” he insisted. “I… I wasn’t handling Ba Sing Se well, and Mai was having doubts about everything. We gravitated towards each other in our misery, and— and it just happened.”

“You can’t honestly believe that’s true,” she snapped.

“You don’t know anything about Mai if you think it isn’t!” he exclaimed. “Neither of us were—”

“What?” she asked, brazen in his silence as he suddenly cut off. “You weren’t what?”

“…We realized that we didn’t like each other in that way,” he finished in a mumble. “Expectations pushed us together. Our own feelings pulled us apart.” Zuko looked back at her this time. “We couldn’t ignore our… our true feelings.”

“And what are those true feelings?” she asked. She couldn’t help the mocking tone in her voice, but the anger was beginning to come back. Mai had never been mean to her back in the palace, but it was hard to forget Omashu and Ba Sing Se. And it wasn’t exactly nice to hear that she and Zuko got together right after she was sentenced to a life in prison.

“I love you,” he said, “and you know that. But Mai, she—” Zuko shook his head and glanced away.

“What?” she repeated.

“...Do you remember Ty Lee?”

She frowned. “Yeah. She’s tried to kill me a couple times.”

“That’s who,” he said, and her eyes widened slightly. “They’ve always been close, but… I don’t know. Maybe the pressure of working under my sister brought them together. Maybe me being as horrible as I was pushed her away. But all I know is that Mai has feelings for her, and none for me. And I’m okay with that.”

“...Ty Lee,” Y/N said, and she managed a chuckle. “I think that’s the last pair I expected.”

Zuko cracked a smile. “It works, though. I hope they can figure something out.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “Me too.”

But then Zuko’s expression sobered again as he looked at her, his gaze as piercing as ever. “You know I don’t like her. You know there’s nothing between us. A—and you said you wanted things to be the way they used to be.” His voice was low, but there was no mistaking the edge of desperation in it. “So why can’t they be?”

“Why does it always come back to us?” she asked bitterly.

“Because I want there to be an us again so badly,” he said. Zuko’s voice was so genuine it pained her, and she hated how easily he was cracking her resolve.

The walls used to be easy to keep up, used to be gratifying. But now all it did was hurt. The night was cold, and she longed for his embrace.

But Zuko was fire. Beautiful, inviting, full of warmth, but able to hurt her just as easily.

And spirits, that was all she could think about as the scar on her arm stung. The burns on her hands had faded, and Ba Sing Se’s mark was nearly gone as well, but she couldn’t forget.

“Maybe there can’t be an us again,” she mumbled as she stood up. “And maybe we just both have to accept that.”

The look in Zuko’s eyes hurt, his downcast expression combined with the same longing she felt. So she walked away towards the forest, or rather what remained of it.

“I’m going to scout out our surroundings,” she said, though it was half-hearted. “I’ll be back when the sun starts setting. We’ll figure out a plan at nightfall.”

She’d disappeared into the woods soon enough. If Zuko said something, she didn’t hear it.

She held true to her word, and she was back by nightfall. Zuko had drawn a map of her village in the dirt with a stick, and though it was crude it was accurate. It turned out he had a better memory than she thought, and it also seemed that when they were working towards something like this, it was easier to work through the tension.

It took the better part of an hour for them to come up with something and actually agree on it, and it was still shakier than he liked—a lot of it relied on her people remembering Y/N the way that she remembered them. But it was a plan, and it could work, so it was good enough.

Soon enough, they were back on Appa, riding through the inky sky towards her village. Dressed in black from spares Zuko had in his bag—the same outfit he lended Katara during her mission, she was sure—they blended in perfectly.

“We’re here,” she whispered, and Zuko nodded as he sheathed his sword and moved up next to her on Appa’s head. “Do you remember the plan?”

“Of course I do,” he said. “Are you dropping down here?”

“Yeah. I’ll signal when I’m ready for you.”

He nodded again. “Good luck, Y/N.”

“...Thanks.”

She guided Appa closer to the ground, handing the reins off to Zuko when she thought she was close enough. She slid off as quietly as she could, her moccasins doing little to help with the shock of landing but good enough at muffling her movements. There were fewer guards than before, but it still made her nervous.

Y/N didn’t even dare to breathe as she moved through her village, ducking behind cover when she needed to as she made her way towards one of the only remaining houses. Despite the Fire Nation banner hanging across the front, it still felt like it was her village rather than another forced colony.

That was something, she supposed.

She pushed the door open quietly and pulled the fabric down from her face, checking once more to make sure there were no guards before she closed it. And when she turned around, she was met by a wide-eyed woman and a stark-faced man darting up from his spot on the floor.

It probably wasn’t the best look, showing up dressed in all black in the middle of the night while the village is occupied by soldiers. She could only hope they would recognize her.

“What are you doing in our home?” he demanded, but his wife shook her head.

“I must be dreaming,” she whispered, and she stood up as well. “Y/N? Is… is that you?”

“Leya,” Y/N said, and she felt the pinpricks of tears behind her eyes, “you remember.”

Leya laughed and clasped her hands together as she moved closer and pulled her into an embrace. “Of course I remember you, darling! How could I forget the little waterbender who always managed to soak my laundry just as it had finished drying?”

“Gan’s girl,” the man—Lao—marveled, and he laughed as well. “What in Kyoshi’s name are you doing here?”

“It’s hard to explain,” she said, slightly sheepish as she pulled out of Leya’s hug. “But basically… I’m here to save the village.”

Lao shook his head with a smile—that same smile she remembered from her youth, a mix of approval and surprise. “You haven’t been here since the invasion and now you’re here to save our village. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“What can I say?” she said with a slight laugh. “I’ve been busy with the Avatar.”

“The Avatar?” Leya asked, and Y/N held up her hand.

“As much as I’d love to tell you both what I’ve been up to all these years, we’re working on a schedule.”

“‘We’?” Lao caught. “Who else is here with you?”

She didn’t think she could exactly say the crown prince of the Fire Nation, no matter how reformed he claimed to be.

“A friend of the Avatar,” she decided. “He’s waiting for my signal. That’s when the action’s going to start.”

“What exactly is your plan?” Leya asked tentatively. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but our numbers aren’t the highest. Those who haven’t been sent away as laborers had their spirits broken long ago. There are very few with any kind of fight left in them.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “I’ve got more than enough fight in me for this whole village. But I need your help.”

Lao nodded. “Anything.”

She smiled, a miniscule amount of weight dropping off her shoulders in relief. “Good.”

Appa was stashed securely in the woods, a rucksack full of moon peaches to keep him happy and quiet, but Zuko was still nervous.

How couldn’t he be, hiding behind a gaudy metal structure pretending to be a house that fit into this village? He was only the traitor boy prince of the Fire Nation, most likely with a wanted poster and a bounty on his head courtesy of his father.

He wasn’t scared, though.

Nervous? Sure. But he couldn’t wait to give these soldiers what they deserved.

Zuko’s eyes snapped towards the sudden movement across the way—the Fire Nation banner had been ripped down from the house Y/N went into, and the woman who did it held her fist in the air for a moment before darting back inside.

The signal.

It was time.

Zuko took a deep breath, pulled his broadswords out of their sheaths, and started moving.

It didn’t take long to find a guard, standing at his assignment near some light post. Zuko dashed behind him and brought his swords up to his neck.

“Stay quiet if you want to keep your head,” he said. “Nod if you understand.”

The guard nodded, but Zuko saw his hand clenching into a fist. He moved one sword down, and he froze in place as the sharp edge settled against his skin.

“No firebending either,” he growled. “You wanna test my patience some more, or are you ready to cooperate?”

“I— I’ll cooperate,” he stammered. “Just don’t hurt me, please. What do you want?”

It was almost pathetic. These people took over an innocent village, and now they were so confident that they stationed guards like this. Zuko wondered if this man even knew what had been done here.

“Good,” Zuko said. “Who’s in charge here?”

“General Lee,” he said, and Zuko had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Of course. “He— he’s the one who took over this place at the beginning. The one who ordered the invasion.”

“And where is he?”

“The biggest house at the end of the lane,” he said. “You— you can’t miss it.”

Zuko thanked the soldier for his information by knocking the flat end of one blade against his head, and he took a step back as the man fell to the ground, unconscious.

Step one complete.

“How is your earthbending?” Y/N asked. She and Lao moved swiftly through the village under the cover of darkness, avoiding soldiers where they were stationed as they conversed in low voices.

“Not as sharp as it used to be,” Lao said. “I’ve been hiding it since the invasion—otherwise they would have killed me or sent me away. What do you need it for?”

Once again, that sheepishness came back. The plan she and Zuko created sounded very outlandish when she said it out loud.

“I want to destroy the factory.”

“You certainly don't aim low, huh?” Lao chuckled a bit, but he flexed his hands nonetheless. He moved his fist forward and a short pillar of solid rock shot up from the ground. “I’ve still got some of it, at least.”

“That’s why I asked for your help,” she said. “The Fire Nation builds everything out of metal, but I think they forget that rocks are pretty effective against it.”

Lao smiled as he sent the rock back down into the earth. “I like how you think.”

She smiled as well, but her head shot up at the movement near them. She stepped protectively in front of Lao, her instincts above anything, but the tension dissolved when she saw it was just Zuko.

“Did you find out where he is?” she asked, and he nodded.

“His name is Lee— General Lee,” he said. “The last house,” he pointed, “that way. You can’t miss it.”

“Good.” She cracked her knuckles. “I have some things I’d like to say to him.”

“Y/N,” he said, “he’s…”

“What?”

“He’s the one who did all of this,” Zuko said. “The one who ordered the invasion. He’s been here ever since.”

Her jaw clenched as she felt fire ignite inside of her. “Then maybe I have a little bit more to say to him.”

“Take this.” Zuko took one of his swords off along with its sheath and handed it to her. “Just in case.”

She nodded, taking some satisfaction in her practice swings before she stashed it across her back, then she looked at Lao. “You two are going to take down the factory together. Is anyone in it still?”

He shook his head. “Shifts ended a few hours ago. It should be completely empty.”

“Good.” Y/N looked at Zuko. “How do you feel about causing some explosions?”

He smirked. “Pretty great.”

“And how do you feel about crushing a lot of stuff?” she asked, turning to Lao.

“Even better.”

“Great,” she smiled. “Obviously, this is going to make a lot of noise. Get out when you feel danger—we might have to bring this fight to the streets.”

Lao cracked his knuckles. “Gladly. It’s about time we take our home back.”

“Laya’s alerted the people?” Y/N asked.

He nodded. “She’s gone house to house—she should be near the end by now. She and the rest of our people will be safe, and anyone who’s willing to fight will be ready for my signal.”

“Then I think it’s time we split,” Y/N said.

“Be careful,” Zuko said. “Don’t let your anger blind you.”

“I’ll do what I have to do,” she said simply.

Zuko nodded in understanding. “See you on the other side, then.”

“See you on the other side,” she murmured.

Y/N got used to the weight of the broadsword in her hand as she moved through the village yet again. She was surprised at how easy it was, how inattentive the few guards were. Their confidence would be their downfall.

It wasn’t hard to find the house of the general. It was so massive it edged on gaudy, obviously built for nothing but the man’s ego. The door wasn’t locked, and she just shook her head as she slid inside. This was ridiculous.

She closed the door as quietly as she could behind her, and she held her breath as she looked around the first floor. It was eerily empty, eerily silent. Maybe he wasn’t here.

Y/N tightened the grip on the hilt of the sword as she crept up the stairs, wincing at every creak. The whole upstairs was the general’s room, and she shook her head. This was more luxury than anyone in the village lived in. He’d built his comfort off the pain of her people.

“Would you like to tell me what you’re doing in my home?”

She whipped around, her sword instinctively flying up as she stared right at her target. So he was here, and he’d been just as quiet as her. He was younger than she expected, but his eyes told everything she needed to know.

“General Lee,” she said, and she was surprised at how steady her voice was. “This isn’t your home.”

“Isn’t it?” He was dressed in a simple tunic and pants, no armor in sight. Good. “I was here when it was built, and as far as I’m aware, it was built for my use.”

“You took it from my people,” she said. “You took everything from us.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific,” he said nonchalantly. “I’ve taken over a lot of villages.”

“Do you not have any shame?” Y/N demanded, and she pointed her sword at him. He didn’t even flinch. “Destroying the lives of innocent people, tearing apart their homes for resources, occupying them just to show off your strength. You kill people, you destroy families, and you don’t even care?”

The general had the nerve to smile. “It’s the way of the world. The weak fall, the strong prevail. I guess your people were just weak.”

Y/N couldn’t control herself after that. She yelled out as she lunged forward and swung with her sword. The general sidestepped her as she whirled back around, and he just laughed.

“You want to fight, girl?” General Lee mocked. “For what? Your people? Your honor? You won’t get far, I assure you.”

“For my family!” she growled. “Your men killed my father and forced my mother and I into servitude. I’ve wanted revenge for so many years, and now I can finally get it.”

His eyes lit with recognition and he raised his eyebrows. “The waterbenders. So you managed to escape—impressive.”

And then suddenly, there were two massive explosions. They were all the way across town, but it still rocked the foundations of the house. The impact must’ve been felt all over town, surely alerting every guard on duty that something was wrong.

Step two was complete.

It was Y/N’s turn to smile at the general. “There goes your factory.”

The general’s mocking confidence melted into cold anger. “You—”

“Blew it up,” she responded. “Yeah.”

She lashed out with her sword to force him out of the way, then booked it down the stairs and out of the house. She laughed in pure exhilaration as she saw all of the guards in the street, as well as the general running out of his house. The fire blazing in his hand matched the anger in his eyes.

“You want a fight, girl?” he growled. “I’ll give you one!”

General Lee launched the fireball at her and she dodged out of the way, watching as it sizzled against the ground. She held her sword in both hands, beckoning him to come further. It wouldn’t be an easy fight to win against an enraged firebender, but then again—she’d done it before.

He was far too eager to go against a young girl as he shot fire at her in repetitive blasts. She dodged what she could and slashed through the others with her sword, lunging at him with the blade when Lee gave her space.

But then fire shot past, narrowly missing her, and her head whipped around. It took these soldiers long enough to realize the fight was happening right next to them.

“Come on, Zuko,” she muttered as she backed away from the men, the general and the soldiers narrowing in on her. She brandished her sword. “Where are you?”

“You’ve picked a battle that you can’t finish,” General Lee spat as fire lit in his hand, “just like your father!”

Rage hotter than anything before ignited inside of her. And then, everything happened at once.

The general and his soldiers shot their fire at her.

Someone yelled at her to duck, and she dropped to the ground.

As the fire was extinguished above her, General Lee’s eyes widened. He took a step back. “What in Agni’s name—”

“I’m not too late, am I?” Zuko reached a hand down to her, and Y/N let out a relieved breath.

“Right on time,” she remarked as she took it and allowed him to help her up. “I’m in a bit of a situation.”

“I noticed.” Zuko turned to the general and gestured with his head behind them. “I’m sorry, general, but I think someone blew up your factory!”

“Prince Zuko,” he said sourly. “So you’re a traitor as well.”

“I’m not a traitor,” he said, stepping in front of Y/N ever so slightly. “I’m helping free these people from your glorified slavery.”

The general’s eyes narrowed. “So all it takes for the crown prince to give up his values is a pretty face.”

“You’re a sick man,” Zuko spat. “Take your soldiers, leave this village, and we’ll give you the mercy you never extended to her people.”

“I don’t think so,” Lee said, and he smiled. “Don’t worry, though—this’ll all be over soon. Unless you think you can go against every soldier here on your own.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been outnumbered,” Y/N said, and she drew her sword. “Besides—”

“—They’ve got help,” someone interrupted. She looked behind her and saw Lao, followed by a myriad of villagers—some earthbenders, some that were just ready to end this. More than she thought still lived here, more willing to fight than she thought.

So everyone’s spirit wasn’t broken.

She smiled. Step three.

“So you want to make this harder,” General Lee said. “I admire your tenacity, but it won’t do you much good.”

“We’ll see,” Zuko said.

Lee didn’t even say anything before he started firebending, and Zuko blocked it yet again. The battle immediately escalated from there, earthbenders and soldiers and swordsmen fighting. It was mostly visible in flashes of fire and the occasional lamppost, but it was loud.

Y/N and Zuko fought side by side against the general, their moves seamless—whenever one fell back, the other would step forward. She was surprisingly good with a sword, but it might’ve been her adrenaline.

With the amount of energy and anger pumping through her veins, she was sure she could take on anything at that moment. And having Zuko with her… She would be lying if she said it didn’t help.

It was a deadly dance between the three of them. Y/N’s sword sung as it cut through the air, and it was in sharp contrast to the explosions of fire in the background and the general’s own bending against them.

Maybe it was that adrenaline inside of her, or maybe it was the thought of finally getting to deliver justice for her village. Maybe the spirits were finally on her side. But whatever it was, General Lee ended up stumbling as he dodged the sword’s jab at him, and it gave her enough time for Zuko to kick him in the chest and send him backwards. Y/N took the opening and swept his legs, putting all her strength into the single move, and it worked.

He fell to the ground, a slight grunt being forced out as he landed on his back, and Y/N pointed her sword at his neck. She took immense satisfaction in the flicker of fear in his eyes.

“Zuko,” she said placidly, “go help the others.”

He looked at her for a good, long moment before he conceded with a step back. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“I won’t regret this,” she murmured.

Zuko’s gaze remained on her for another moment before he turned and ran back into the fray. Y/N could do nothing but stare down at the general. The man who took everything away from her in one short afternoon, now defenseless below her blade.

“So,” she said, “after all this time, all it took was one fight for you to fall.”

The general gave her a wry smile. “It wasn’t exactly a fair fight.”

“Neither was the invasion of my village. But that didn’t stop you, did it?”

“You savages have never understood,” he growled. “No great leader has ever gotten anywhere by being nice, by yielding to the demands of those lesser than him. There’s a reason the Fire Nation is at the world’s helm while every other nation continues to fall to its feet.”

“Because you go after the defenseless!” she exclaimed. “You go after those who can’t do anything against you, and then you destroy everything you find. All you care about is power.” Y/N huffed a mirthless laugh and gestured around them. “And look where that’s gotten you.”

“Yield,” she demanded before he had the chance to speak, moving her sword closer to his neck. “Yield, and leave this village, and I’ll let you leave with your life.”

The general laughed, followed by a wince as her blade nicked his skin. “Don’t you know anything about the Fire Nation? You served there for so long.”

“Yield!” she shouted, her voice trembling along with her grip. She just wanted this to be over.

“We fight until death,” he continued. “You’re going to have to kill me if you want your way.”

“You think I won’t?” she challenged. ”You’ve taken everything from me! Your life is too small a price to pay for what you’ve done!”

“I think you’re weak,” he spat. “Too weak to do what you need to do.”

Her eyes stung with tears as she pulled the sword away from his neck.

General Lee huffed a laugh. “Like I said: you’re wea—”

He was stopped in the middle of his sentence as she plunged the sword into his heart. His eyes widened as he choked out his last breath, the light beginning to drain out of him. And then he was gone.

“I’m not weak anymore,” she murmured.

Y/N stared at his lifeless body for a moment, glanced at the gleam of blood on metal.

She had just killed a man. The one responsible for her father’s death, for the imprisonment of her and her mother, for the invasion of her village.

Y/N didn’t feel remorse, didn’t feel satisfaction—but she felt whole. Like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

She sheathed her sword and walked away, back towards the chaos of the ongoing fight. Zuko had joined the others, fighting with a combination of his sword and his bending, and it worked wonders. For a moment, all she could do was watch him. The grace he fought with was akin to that of a waterbender.

Lao moved like he was twenty years younger, working in tandem with other earthbenders as they took down the Fire Nation forces soldier by soldier. Toph would have been proud.

But now there was only one thing left to do.

Y/N took a deep breath then cupped her hands around her mouth, yelling as loudly as she could. “Soldiers of the Fire Nation! Your general is dead!”

That was enough of a shock to knock them off their balance, because Zuko and the earthbenders all immobilized their foes. Zuko with a sword to the neck, Lao and his crew with rocks around their legs and other limbs. The fight died down quickly, all of them staring at her. Zuko’s expression was impossible to read.

“You heard me,” she repeated, “General Lee is dead. You have no stake in this village anymore. Leave, or face the same fate as him.”

“Will you stand here and fight for a nation that doesn’t care about you?” Zuko shouted, catching on to her goal. “Or will you do what’s right and leave these people be?”

Silence hung in the air, only broken by the heaved breaths of soldiers and earthbenders alike. She stared at them all expectantly, her heart pounding in her chest.

And then, the clatter of a sword against the ground.

“I surrender.” A soldier being held in place by rocks around her ankles had dropped her weapon, looking Y/N straight in the eye. “I’ve served the Fire Nation blindly for far too long.”

She nodded at the earthbender, and he retracted the stone around her.

“Go,” Y/N said. “Back to wherever you came from.”

“Your mercy…” the soldier murmured, and she shook her head. “Thank you for giving us a second chance. I know it means little, but I apologize. For everything.”

And then she walked off—in the direction of the shore, she noticed—and soon enough, she’d disappeared into the wood. They must’ve come in on ships.

Slowly, the remaining soldiers either dropped their weapons or declared their own surrender, and one by one they were let go. The sound of clattering metal was music to her ears, and with each one the weight lifted a little more.

The soldier in Zuko’s hold was the last to drop his sword, and Zuko kicked it away before removing his blade from his neck. As he walked away, she let out a sigh of relief.

“…We did it,” she said. “We finally did it.”

“You did it,” Zuko said as he sheathed his sword, doing the same to the other when Y/N handed it to him. “None of this would have been possible without you.”

“Wouldn’t have been possible without you either,” she said, and the smallest smile tugged at his lips.

Lao walked up to her, and he enveloped her in the biggest, tightest hug she’d felt since Katara’s at the air temple. She reciprocated immediately, tears springing into her eyes at the warmth he carried.

“You did it,” he said, his voice and eyes full of pride as he pulled away, though his hands remained on her shoulders. “You’ve given us the freedom that none of us could attain in seven years. We owe everything to you, Y/N.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said, unable to help her grin, and she looked back at the other villagers. “Any of you—thank you so much. Tonight, you fought for our people! You fought for our village! And we’re finally free from the Fire Nation.”

A wild cheer erupted from the group, and Y/N had to wipe away the tears that began to fall. They’d really done it.

“Go, be with your families!” she exclaimed. “Celebrate with your loved ones! You deserve it—enjoy your freedom!”

Several of the villagers clapped her on the shoulder or shook her hand as they began to wander around, returning back to their houses. She heard one discussing architectural plans, about what they would do with everything the Fire Nation left behind, as well as their houses. The smile wouldn’t leave her face.

And then Zuko walked up, alerting her to his presence by clearing his throat. “Y/N,” he said, and she turned around.

“What?”

“First of all, congratulations.” His own small smile was there, and she felt her cheeks warm. “You freed your village from a seven year occupation. It’s amazing.”

“It feels amazing.” She rubbed her arms, the cold of the night beginning to get to her as her adrenaline from the battle started to fade. “I can’t believe we did it.”

“I’m not surprised,” Zuko said. “You can do anything you put your mind to—I’ve learned that twenty times over by now.”

She chuckled a bit, but Zuko’s expression sobered. “But I have to ask. You… you killed the general.”

The air between them immediately changed. “I did.”

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“I don’t feel happy,” Y/N said, “so you don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going to start killing everyone that’s ever wronged me.”

Zuko laughed, though it was slightly nervous. “That’s, uh— that’s good.”

“But I don’t feel sad either,” she said. “I just feel… right. Like it was something I had to do. Not just for my people, but for me. To know that he’ll never be able to hurt someone the way he hurt me.”

“...Good,” Zuko repeated. “That’s all we can ask for, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “But… I’d appreciate it if you kept this between us. At least until I’m ready to tell everyone.”

“Of course,” he agreed.

“Good,” she said.

Y/N looked up at the sky, the sun having fully set. It was dark except for the bits of ashes that littered the battlefield and the lanterns that lit up the path through the village. But there was still something she needed to do.

She looked back at Zuko. “I have something I need to see. And I want you to come with me. Is… is that okay?”

He smiled, his voice soft when he spoke. “I’d love to.”

The path she led him down was one well-traveled by the people of her village—the inky darkness they walked through was penetrated only by the flames Zuko held in his hand at Y/N’s request. She knew she would be able to find her way without it, though.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Somewhere special,” Y/N answered. “Sad, but special. Somewhere I’ve thought about a lot since my mother and I were taken.”

It took a few more minutes of walking in silence only disturbed by night ambiance. When they got there, Y/N let out a quiet sigh. There was unimaginable weight behind the sound.

“We’re here.”

“Where is ‘here’?” Zuko asked tentatively. But then he made the fire in his hand bigger and brighter, and his breath caught in his throat.

“...Hi, Dad,” she said softly, her gaze focused on the headstone. “It’s me. Your little girl finally found her way back home.”

“Y/N…” he murmured.

“I’ve been wanting to come here for a long time, but I’ve never been able to,” she continued. “But you don’t have to worry anymore—the village is free. The Fire Nation is gone. And Mom is okay—she’s safe in Ba Sing Se, and after all of this is over, I’m going to find her again, and I’m going to take care of her. You don’t have to worry about us anymore.” Y/N chuckled. “I’m sure I’ve been driving you crazy with everything I’ve been doing lately. But you can rest in peace now.”

“Are you sure you want me here?” he asked. “I— I don’t want to disturb you—”

She shook her head, placing her hand lightly on his arm. “Stay. Please.”

“...Okay,” he said. “Of course.”

“This is Zuko,” she said, and she laughed a bit as he hesitantly waved. “He’s… he’s the most important person in my life.”

His eyes widened a bit and he looked at her, but her only response was to wordlessly slip her hand into his. He didn’t hesitate to lace his fingers through hers.

“We’ve been through a lot together, and I’ve… I’ve been really angry at him lately. And I thought it was good, righteous anger, but all it did was eat me up inside. I’ve been miserable because of it—I even lost my bending. But now… now, I understand.”

She looked at Zuko now. His gaze hadn’t moved.

“I love you,” she said, “and I mean that with everything in me. I’ve been so angry at you because of what you did that I haven’t let myself think about anything that you’ve done—and you’ve helped my friends so much since you joined them. You’ve helped me too, even when I claimed I didn’t need anyone.”

“And all this time, I thought that letting you go was what I needed to do. But I couldn’t have been more wrong.” She tightened her grip on his hand—her lifeline. “I’ve lost so much in my life, Zuko, things that I can’t get back. And I’m not going to let myself lose you again.”

Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to Zuko’s lips, and he extinguished the fire in his hand as he immediately reciprocated it. It was impossibly soft, impossibly right. And Y/N knew then that this was exactly where she was supposed to be.

“I love you too,” he murmured, and his eyes shone even in the darkness. “More than anything. And I’m so sorry that I ever made you think anything else.”

She pulled away from the kiss to embrace him, and when his arms wrapped around her, it was like home. The constant twist in her chest, the constant weight she’d been carrying for months—it dissipated, and she felt lighter than ever. Spirits, it all felt so right.

And when they pulled away, Y/N rested her head on Zuko’s chest. He responded by wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her in close.

“Thank you for taking me here,” he said. “For trusting me enough with it.”

“Thank you for never giving up on me,” she said.

“Speaking of that…” Zuko said, and there was a slight lilt to his voice as he lit the fire in his hand again. “How about trying that bending again?”

Y/N chuckled a bit as she looked at her hand, flexing her fingers the way she used to. She barely had to concentrate as she pulled moisture from the air, forming into an orb of water in the air. She wasn’t even shocked—she’d known, after they got here. It wasn’t anything concrete, just… a feeling. A feeling that order had returned.

“It’s back,” he said, and the boyish surprise in his voice made her smile.

“That it is.”

Y/N formed it into a flower and then froze it, gingerly taking the stem in her fingers. She walked up to her father’s grave, running her fingers over the engravings. She wasn’t here when it was made, but she was so thankful it had been made. That her people had always been thinking of her and her family.

GAN

HUSBAND OF KURA, FATHER OF Y/N

48 AG-93 AG

WILL BE REMEMBERED FOR HIS LOVE AND HEROICS

It was bittersweet, but she was glad he had a spot here. He would always be remembered.

She carefully placed the flower of ice against the headstone, lowering the temperature of her breath as she blew on it to preserve it longer. It would melt eventually, of course, but this wouldn’t be her last time here. Next time, there would be real flowers.

“I love you, Dad,” she murmured, resting her head against the stone as she closed her eyes. “Forever and always.” She stayed there for a moment, and the gentle breeze that blew through the enclave was no coincidence. For the first time in a very, very long time, she felt peace inside.

She stood back up with a sad smile, wiping at the tears before she turned to Zuko. “I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?”

Y/N nodded. “I am.”

Zuko nodded too, and they started to walk together down the path.

And when he offered his hand, she took it without hesitation.

hope you enjoyed this mf emotional marathon of a chapter lmao im gonna go hibernate for a few months because jfc

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