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walviemort · 8 months ago

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Expecting a Secret [2/3]

Summary: After the events of 3x19, Killian is at his lowest after being rejected by Emma. When Snow’s labor turns out to be a false alarm, Zelena offers Killian a deal: she’ll leave the Charmings alone…if he gives her the baby she needs for her spell instead. There’s just one hitch: he has to keep it a secret. At least it will only take 10 days, right? a/n: Here's the second part of my bday fic for @sancocnutclub !!! This is the full fic from the manip I posted last week. Last chapter should go up on Friday! rated T | AO3 | 3.8k | part 1 |

Based on what Killian was feeling and seeing, the next morning found him roughly at the 23-week mark (as expected, he’d spent most of the night studying his borrowed book—and was feeling thoroughly overwhelmed). His stomach looked yet larger, but his vest still had plenty of room, even if the laces on the side were let out a bit more.

He also found himself resting his hand on his belt to further hide the increasingly obvious curve of his midsection (at least, it appeared so to him, given all the decades that his form had remained unchanged). It seemed to work, thankfully, but he also made an effort to not be too social; he took lunch with Emma and Henry, at their request, but had to pass on their invite to dine at the loft that night. He cited his desire to avoid the extra burden on Snow—who it was implied could go into labor at any moment, though he had (good) reason to believe they had a bit more time, assuming Zelena’s implication that she had control over Snow’s pregnancy was true—but in reality, he knew his ravenous appetite would be nigh impossible to hide in such close quarters. (Granny was far less discerning, especially with with her approving comments about “putting some meat on his bones.”)

“We’ll miss you,” Henry told him as he and Emma left the diner that afternoon; Killian wasn’t sure if what he felt at that was his heart skipping a beat, or yet another kick from the little one, which were happening with increasing frequency and strength.

He tried his damnedest to swallow his emotions and looked up at Emma, who was giving him a similar gentle look. “I, uh, I’ll miss you too—lad,” he added quickly. “Until next time.”

He was glad he’d left things vague when he yet again felt immediate relief at unclasping his vest once back in his room. The odds of it fitting even later that day were slim to none, which would no doubt draw Emma’s attention. No, he’d do best to avoid her the next several days, until this whole thing was done.

That was something else he’d noticed—his conscious effort to put distance between him and this child, even if it obviously was more emotional than physical. His paternal side would find it far too easy to start considering names for the wee one, to caress his growing stomach and maybe even serenade the baby, to start preparing for the future. He wasn’t even sure the babe was his—but that had never stopped him before.

Until he knew how to keep them safe from Zelena’s clutches, though, he didn’t dare; that might only lead to heartbreak, and he’d known enough of that for a few lifetimes.

He did ask Emma, during a moment when Henry stepped away to the restroom, if any progress had been made regarding the witch problem, given that his attempt at research was fruitless.

“Nothing yet,” she sighed. “Unless we can somehow steal the items back before my mom goes into labor, our only hope is my magic.” Her eyes briefly darted to his lips; he leaned away from her.

“I’d say both are good plans,” he assured her. “Especially the second one.”

She rolled her eyes, but blushed. “I think you’re the only person confident in that.”

“Well, take some of mine, then. Remember: I have yet to see you fail,” he reminded her, and placed his hand over hers on the diner table.

The look she gave him was heavy; she still wasn’t used to people having that kind of faith in her, he knew. But if this was his only way of thwarting the witch—of keeping two infants safe—he’d give her as much support as he could.

The moment was simultaneously interrupted by Henry’s return, and a strong kick from his passenger—as if to remind him that at some point here (sooner than he’d care to admit), he’d have to go into hiding. He’d have to figure out a way to offer his support from afar.

But until there was a definite plan, he was going to keep things as impersonal as possible, merely trying to make sure he complied with Zelena’s rules and did whatever he needed to remain something resembling comfortable. The babe seemed to be growing just fine; his stomach was maybe a touch smaller than average, but that could be attributed to him also being taller than the typical expectant parent, as well as a life at sea demanding denser core muscles.

Hopefully, that remained the trend; he’d read the section about what happened after birth in more detail and…it wasn’t pretty. And he was still a rather vain man, with a woman to woo, if she’d still have him.

(He hadn’t given much thought as to how he might explain this to Emma after the fact, if at all; he hoped the simple fact that Zelena was no longer going after the Charmings would be enough that they wouldn’t even need to have the conversation. However, he wasn’t naive enough to count on it.)

—----------------------------------------------

When he woke the next morning, his hand was instinctively resting atop the bare curve of his belly. (That didn’t bode well for his plans of detachment.)

He also found it difficult to sit up in his normal manner; after much rolling around and repositioning, he finally managed to get upright—only to see that his stomach had popped out a fair bit overnight. It most definitely resembled a bump now; after using the lavatory, he traced the curve of it in the mirror, equal parts astounded and horrified. He was also surprised at how firm it was—it wasn’t just softness; there was definitely something there. (Something that was repeatedly kicking at his liver, it felt like.)

His tunic was plenty roomy, but the vest would no longer clasp over his gravid form, no matter how much he let out the laces. He huffed as he cast it aside; he knew it was inevitable, but it was depressing all the same. At least his pants still fit, but barely—and likely not for much longer.

If no one looked closely, and he didn’t tuck in his shirt, it wasn’t all that noticeable. But there would be no hiding it from those even reasonably close to him. Now he understood why the upper-class women referred to this time as “confinement”—because in order to keep this hidden, he’d have to stay in his room.

Not for the first time, he wished he had his ship; it would have been far easier to hide out there, away from prying eyes. Or if only there were another inn in town, but it would likely draw more attention if he were to relocate.

While he still had a semblance of normalcy to his appearance, he decided he should seek out provisions to get him through the next several days. By his math, he’d only just crossed the halfway mark in the time frame Zelena gave him, but was more than halfway through the pregnancy—so it was likely slowing down in speed, meaning he’d be spending the bulk of it during the most uncomfortable parts. Not only would he need food, he’d need other supplies as well.

He’d jotted down a list and slipped it into the pocket of his greatcoat, next to the fair amount of gold he’d stashed before leaving the Jolly Roger. His jacket hung loose enough that it hid his belly, but only just.

Cautiously, he poked his head out in the hall before heading out; even if he was reasonably covered up, the more inconspicuous he could be, the better. The coast was clear, so he slipped out and locked up—but then he heard a similar sound from behind him.

“Oh, hey—I was just about to come over,” Emma said from across the way. “I’ve got a magic lesson this afternoon, but do you want to get lunch before it?”

He was still facing the door. Given the state of things, Emma was the last person he’d wanted to run into. Traitorously, the baby chose then to give him a sharp thump in the stomach, as if telling him to get a move on.

So he did his best to suck in a breath—to minimize his bump’s profile—before turning around. He plastered on his best flirtatious look and avoided the urge to place his hand on his belt. “Is that your way of asking me out on a date?” he teased, hoping the obvious come-on would prevent her from suspecting anything was awry.

As predicted, she rolled her eyes. “If I was asking you on a date, it wouldn’t be to Granny’s,” she countered.

“Duly noted,” he quipped back (and saved for future reference). “But unfortunately, I have to decline the invitation; I’m afraid I have some errands to run that I’ve been putting off too long.”

“Oh.” Her face fell, and he tried to make sure his heart didn’t follow it. “Well, I could go with you, if you wanted.”

He did—so much. But then how would he explain the copious amounts of food he was about to buy? “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t know how long it will take—and I know that Her Majesty can’t be kept waiting.”

Emma huffed, but he saw acceptance across her face. “Yeah, you’re right. But I’m absolutely not seeing her on an empty stomach.”

“Nor should you,” he agreed, smiling—though hopefully it didn’t look too pained, because his attempts at holding in his belly were beginning to strain. As such, he started to turn away to leave, but she wasn’t done.

“Hey, where’s your vest? Is that one of your errands?”

Dammit; should have known she’d notice. But her gaze seemed to be focused on his chest and not any lower; normally, he’d comment on her leering but he was just relieved. “Aye; damaged it with my hook last night, and the laces need repair.” (That part was true—some of them had gotten a bit stretched.)

“Darn; I thought maybe you were actually going to join the modern world and get some new clothes,” she teased.

“Not yet,” he countered, but it wasn’t a bad idea—not a total wardrobe change, but perhaps something a bit…roomier, or more forgiving. “I should get to it, though.”

Emma blinked and looked back up at him, having seemingly been lost in a daydream. (Perhaps buying modern clothes did need to be added to his docket at some point; just not today.) “Yeah, and I need to get moving. Have fun.”

“Thanks, and good luck,” he farewelled; Emma headed the opposite way down the hall with a casual wave.

He waited until she was out of sight and then relaxed with a sigh; he could feel his belly press against the laces of his trousers as soon as he did, and indulged in a brief massage of his lower abdominal muscles. At least the ruse had worked—but he was definitely seeking out pants with an elastic waist.

The supermarket was aptly named; it was indeed massive and overwhelming. But it had everything—fresh vegetables and meat, bulk rations, even perishables and fresh-baked goods. It was astounding. He was easily able to gather enough provisions (healthy ones at that) for the next several days. He also grabbed some items at random that simply sounded appealing—mostly sweets, but he’d learned that cravings were a customary part of the process and this little one certainly had a sweet tooth.

(Thankfully, he also found the section with flexible clothing with ease. He purchased a couple pairs of what were labeled “sweatpants” and a few long-sleeved tops in varying sizes and colors; he just hoped he’d selected ones big enough.)

Odds were he overpaid for the lot of goods, given that the lad working the checkout didn’t know the gold conversion rate offhand, but he didn’t rightly care if it also bought the boy’s discretion. Thankfully, he also had his enchanted tote bag with him—the one with the hidden expansion charm he’d picked up…gods, he couldn’t even remember where anymore, it’d been so long—so he wasn’t spotted carrying half a dozen overladen sacks into Granny’s.

He spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking his newfound treasures, grateful to finally have a use for the seemingly magical ice box in his room. He stashed the nonperishables on his small table, and his new clothing in a dresser drawer.

One last thing remained, and admittedly, he hadn’t paid for it: a tiny outfit intended for a baby, covered with illustrations of sailboats. He’d slipped it into a pocket before paying for everything else, not wanting to draw the raised eyebrows such a purchase would attract, even if he could have passed it off as being for the Charming’s infant.

He held it up with just his thumb and forefinger; the label on it suggested it was sized for a newborn, but it still seemed impossibly small. At least, until he laid it atop the steadily increasing curve of his belly; then he wondered if it would even be large enough (though the books told him the babe was only yet the size of an aubergine, which he had stared at in the produce section for an extended period of time).

Bloody hell, what was he doing? He couldn’t get attached; if he failed to help Emma and the others defeat Zelena, it would spell doom for this child. And given that he was increasingly running out of ideas, it seemed imminent. He’d already suffered two terrible heartbreaks in his life; he wasn’t sure he could survive another (which would undoubtedly be harsher).

He yanked open an empty drawer and threw the onesie inside, then shoved it shut. Best not to continue that train of thought; only if they actually managed to defeat the witch.

Sighing, he plopped down in the dining chair and tore (literally) into a package of something called Oreos. They were delicious, but did nothing to assuage his fears or guilt. For the umpteenth time, his hand instinctively drifted to his stomach, as if his touch alone could protect the babe.

Hopefully that, and his trust in the heroes, would be enough.

—--------------------------------------------------------------

Killian awoke the next day to something touching him. In his sleep-addled mind, he lashed out towards whatever it was, fully intending to let it (or them) get acquainted with the sharp end of his hook.

However, he’d taken his prosthesis off last night, lest he do anything to injure his ever-expanding midsection, so all he did was hit it away with his brace. An annoyed yelp followed his impact.

“Bloody hell, I was just checking on the baby,” Zelena scolded. He blinked a few times, urging the sleep away from his eyes, to see the witch standing over him, scowling.

“What the hell do you want?” he demanded as he tried (and failed) to sit up, eventually settling for propping himself on his elbows.

“I’m simply making sure that my investment is paying off. I’ve kept up my part of the deal—those sickly-sweet Charmings are just fine. But I’ve got to make sure everything is going well here, too; pregnancy is tricky business, you know.” She turned her gaze to his exposed belly; despite the shirt he’d worn to bed, it had ridden up overnight. “Oh, is that a stretch mark I see?” she declared, leaning back towards him.

He yanked the hem of his shirt down, both to cut off her view and at the wound to his vanity.

“You’re no fun,” she pouted. “I thought most expectant parents were basking in the glow of creating life, or whatever?”

“When it’s something they’ve wanted, aye; not when it’s been forced on them,” he spat. He hadn’t truly understood the concept of glowing until his time spent with Snow lately; however, he felt more washed out than anything incandescent.

But speaking of glowing—as she stood upright and folded her arms, light from the window glinted off the jewel at her neck. He remembered what the Charmings had been told about it being the source of her power, and without any further thought (moving faster than he thought he could), he lunged for the pendant, hoping that it might be just that simple to defeat her.

No sooner had his fingers brushed the surface of the gem than he was thrown back forcefully against the headboard; he groaned in pain. Bollocks.

“Ah-ah-ah,” she chastised. “Did you really think it’d be that easy? Especially when you’ve been touched not once, but twice by my own magic?”

“Had to try,” he panted out as he tried to catch his breath. His hand flew to his stomach as its inhabitant also protested the blow.

“You really ought to be more careful; a fall like that isn’t good for the little one,” she warned.

“Why do I give a shit what happens to your demon offspring?” he countered.

She scoffed. “Oh, it’s not mine. The spell would never work with my own blood. But,” she started, coming closer and leaning over him again. “It is yours.”

“What?” he gasped. He’d certainly wondered, but hadn’t expected that it was actually his child. How could she expect him to hand over his own flesh and blood? What he did to Bae all those years ago still haunted him; this would be even worse.

“Indeed. All the more reason for you to be careful, hm?” The way she caressed his bump again felt more like a threat than any sort of endearment. “If this child doesn’t survive, our deal is off. And maybe you should read the part of that book over there on just what that will do to you.”

(He swallowed, because he already had, of course; he couldn’t imagine anything more traumatic than carrying a child that didn’t survive—especially now knowing this one was truly his.)

“Then who’s the mum?” he asked, trying to distract himself. He needed to know that, too, especially if it wasn’t Zelena. “Is there one?” (Biologically, he knew there should be…but, biologically, she would be the one with child.)

“There is. Magic can’t circumvent that,” she confirmed as she set herself to rights. “But as for who…I’ll tell you when it’s all said and done.”

“You’re a bastard,” he growled.

“Something me and that baby will have in common,” she laughed.

She abruptly moved away and turned around, so he closed his eyes and took another deep breath to recover, at least physically, while she was distracted. He hadn’t realized how much the babe was pressing on his lungs until now.

“Oh, isn’t this sweet?” Zelena cooed. He opened his eyes to see her holding up the onesie. “Not my color scheme, but it certainly suits your aesthetic. Too bad they won’t get to wear it.”

Angrily, he stood from his bed to rush at her—he didn’t know why, exactly, just that he was suddenly filled with rage—but it was for nought, as she merely threw the garment at him before disappearing in her signature green smoke.

He caught it against his chest and sighed. He’d failed, hadn’t he? There was no way he could do anything to keep this child from Zelena’s clutches now, unless Emma managed to defeat her in the next few days. He sniffled, suddenly overcome by emotion—because wasn’t this so typical for him? To lose the things he loved?

(Because, much as he had tried not to, he did love the babe—even before he knew it was his; that was just his nature. But as with all things he loved, it was going to be taken from him—and their mum likely had no clue. Shit.)

His gaze was still on the outfit, vision blurring with tears, when a knock rapped at his door. He froze, hoping whoever it was would go away, but it sounded again. “Hook? Are you there?”

Of course it was Emma. Despite everything, he couldn’t say no to her. “Coming,” he called out, and quickly tossed the onesie aside, wiped his eyes, and strode to the door.

But then he glanced down; there was no hiding his belly, especially while wearing just the shirt and sweatpants he’d changed into (which, while exceedingly comfortable, did nothing to disguise the curve of his waistline). So he awkwardly angled himself, and opened the door just enough to peek his upper body around.

“Morning, Swan,” he greeted, though it was nowhere near as smooth as he usually was. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Her brow furrowed as she looked him over, then tried to look past him into his room. “I thought I heard something weird; is everything okay?”

“Right as rain,” he lied. “I did have a run-in with my bed frame, though,” he said, hoping she would believe him if he at least partially told the truth.

“What, stub your toe?” she teased.

“Aye, something like that,” he agreed.

She briefly narrowed her gaze, but seemed to accept his answer. “Well, do you want to get breakfast? Henry was asking if you wanted to spar again, too; I think he’s gunning to be your first mate.”

He had to smile at that, but it didn’t hold. “Ah, I’m dealing with a fair bit of fatigue at the moment; can I take a rain bill?”

Emma tilted her head. “You mean a rain check?”

“That, yes.”

“I suppose, but that’s only going to mean he’ll want more later.”

“I endeavor to make it up to him in full.”

She grinned, but hers too didn’t last. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he told her—which was true, given that the babe was treating his internal organs as playthings.

“Alright, well, rest up; you’ve been missed around here.” There was a steadiness in her gaze that suggested she was speaking personally rather than generally.

“I’ll try,” he said, though his voice was almost a whisper.

“See you,” she farewelled; he repeated it and shut the door, perhaps a bit too forcefully.

The next few days were going to be interminable, weren’t they?

The lone blessing was that Belle had lent him a few books from the library, so he had the means of entertainment, and obviously had bought more than enough food. (Those Pop-Tart pastries that Emma seemed to favor were indeed delicious.)

He felt like an arse when he had to feign sleep during Emma’s next attempt to drag him from his room, around dinner time. The woman was bloody stubborn. But, as he was being reminded by the insistent little foot digging into his ribs, there was truly nothing to be done until they were out. He’d extend his apologies then—once they’d defeated the witch.

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thanks for reading! tagging a few: @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @teamhook @mathiaskejseren @88infinity88

#cs ff #killian mpreg #killian jones ff #expecting a secret #my ff

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genork-the-fandork · 3 months ago

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Coffee

Word Count: 640 Prompt: Seventh Beginning A/N: The final drabble. I never had them kiss, did I? Ah, well. I prefer the unspoken bonds when it comes to Digimon. And these two have one of my favorite bonds. Thank you, everyone, for reading my silly little drabbles. It's been a great event! @takariweek

"Digimon drinking coffee is… alarming," Hikari pointed out as she watched Patamon and Tailmon slurp down their drinks. She didn't often consume coffee herself, and she had a feeling most of Takeru's orders were for Patamon. It didn't seem to negatively affect the Digimon in the slightest, but she still worried. A part of her was always worried about them.

"As long as we don't give V-mon any, everything should be fine." Takeru's cheek was smooshed from where it rested on his hand. He looked content, and it made Hikari feel the same to see him that way. It had been quiet since their brothers had parted from their Digimon, and they'd made a semblance of a promise to enjoy every day with Patamon and Tailmon that they could. As always, Takeru had taken one of their many promises seriously.

Hikari rested back against the leather of the booth seat, her neck falling against the curve of it. Casting her eyes to the side, looking at her friend, she smiled. "Something's about to happen, huh?" She had been feeling it in her bones the last few days. Somehow, even before they knew for sure something was happening, that they would be called to save Japan or the world, they two had always sensed it. Maybe it had to do with how crucial Hope and Light had always been to the workings of the Digital World, or maybe they had always had a little bit of Homeostasis within them. Regardless, it had always seemed… rather psychic of them. It was something they couldn't tell their brothers, but at least they could share it with each other.

A thoughtful look passed over Takeru's face, and he met her gaze out of the corner of his eye. "I think so, yeah. Probably specific to the newbies." Not that they were "newbies" anymore. But Takeru had always thought of them as such, or at least referred to them that way. Sometimes it was like they two were their parents, even though Miyako and Ken were older than them and Daisuke was their age. Always looking after them, wise beyond their years. Maybe they'd both been born with some piece of the Digital World inside them.

"Let's hope it won't cause too much trouble," Hikari mused, turning back to look at Tailmon polishing off her drink.

"We always say that. It never works."

They laughed, and their Digimon looked up, their heads tilted in confusion at the sound. Takeru reached across the table to pet Patamon's head, and Hikari touched her own hand to Tailmon's claws. "We'll be okay. Whatever time we have left with them, we'll spend it wisely."

"We always have. Something to be said for the last two usually standing." Takeru grinned, and Hikari's face automatically mirrored the expression. Two halves of a whole, as they always seemed to be. There was something to be said for that. Although they were not usually ones to say it outright.

"Leave some fun for the others, hm? Wouldn't want Daisuke complaining that he didn't get to have his chance in the spotlight." Hikari bumped her shoulder into Takeru's, and the blond returned it.

"I suppose I can. Besides, when it all comes down to it, Daisuke will probably be the one to save us all." True to the parental role he'd taken on ever since meeting their friends, he smiled proudly. "He's come a long way."

"We all have. And it's just the start." Hikari held out her hand, and Takeru took it. Their fingers didn't even need a mental command to intertwine. Their lives may have just been starting, in some sense of the word, but theirs was a bond forged from years of trust. One that would never go away, no matter how much the Digital World tried to hammer it away.

#digimon #takari week #takari week 2024 #gen writes #digimon drabble #hikari yagami #takeru takaishi

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rosebloodcat · 2 years ago

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TTWTWK: In Which Blinky has a Crisis (Or Three)

In 1995, around the start of spring, Blinkous Galadrigal went missing.

The same morning that the scholarly troll vanished, a man was found unconscious in a back alley wearing nothing but a set of ill-fitting, brown overalls and was rushed to the Arcadia Oaks Hospital.

Chapter Summary:

Blinky/James sits in the kitchen while have a crisis (or maybe three), gets (re?) acquainted with a good friend, and names are discussed.

AN: Heads up, around the start of this, Blinky's spiraling a little bit and repeating thoughts/phrases. He's a bit more panicked than he realizes about all this and it shows in how he’s thinking. I wanted to warn folks in case that was alarming for anyone!

Ao3 Link

Meddling with time magic was unpredictable. It was one of those things that everyone knew, to some degree, even if they never openly talked about it. It was one of those things that seemed obvious, at least when discussing the concept theoretically.

This was why Blink (James?) felt like he shouldn't have been as surprised as he was by this bizarre turn of events.

He sat in his Norman's the kitchen, clutching a mug of tea in his hands as he stared blankly out the window at the pitch-dark sky outside.

The Krohnisfere was supposed to have only sent Master Jim back in time. And just his memories, at that.

Blinky shouldn't have been the one waking up in the middle of the night with a head full of memories of the future, as a human no less, before Master Jim had even been born. (If he was doing his mental math correctly.)

But he did remember and when combined with his memories of "now"...

He remembered that he'd gone missing for ten years, roughly eleven years before he'd met Jim. No one had known what had happened to him, or where he'd been, or even how he'd come back from it.

It seems that, after I'd finally stopped searching for an answer, it's been freely handed to me, He thought, carefully sipping the cooling tea. There was still a small part of him that was adamant that this was some insane dream he was experiencing. That he would wake up in the ruins of Arcadia, everything exactly as he had last seen them.

But the warmth of the mug in his hands, the smell and taste of the tea, the tired itch in his eyes; it all pointed to this being very real.

He was in the past, during the period he'd been missing, sitting in a human kitchen drinking tea, as a human.

He was a human.

The reason no one, not even Kanjigar, had been able to find him for so long had been because he had, somehow, become human.

He had woken in a human hospital, as a human with amnesia. He had been dubbed James and kept the name because he hadn’t known his own name.

James Lake was the name of Jim’s father. He was James Lake and he was dating Barbara.

He was Jim’s father. The same father that disappeared on Jim’s fifth birthday.

He would father Jim.

Him.

The first human troll hunter’s father.

For a half-second, Blinky/James wished he was drinking something stronger than tea right then. He couldn’t think of what, exactly, he wanted instead and he didn’t really care. Just something stronger. (Being Not-Sober was very tempting right then.)

It made sense, in an insane way, once he corralled his thoughts into some semblance of order.

The first (second?) time he’d become human, he’d felt oddly… Comfortable? In both the form and amongst the humans, where any other troll probably would have felt strange and alien. (He hadn’t been totally comfortable after the change, but not as much as he probably should have.)

Yes, he’d let his curiosity get the better of him many times, but he hadn’t felt completely out-of-place while in that state. Looking back, he would have thought of the experience as being familiar. Not completely unknown to him.

(Barbara’s rough introduction hadn’t colored his perception as much as it should have. She had felt familiar, he’d thought it had been from her actions reminding him of a troll mother protecting her den, but… He had worried over her, after finally meeting her. Meeting her again?)

He’d always thought Arrrgh’s comments on the two smelling similar had been about Jim having an ink-and-paper smell to him as well. Likely from spending so much time around the written word while in school. A mark of the young human being a learning sort as well.

And, during the pilgrimage to New Jersey, more than a few of the trolls with them had joked about how similar Jim and he had been. “Like Father, Like Son” and vice versa.

He’d thought of Jim like a son then, so it had felt like a compliment. Something to be proud of.

But now, with this new context, it seemed he was mistaken and there was far more to those observations than he’d thought.

(Because Jim was his son. A son he’d forgotten he’d had. A human son. His Son. Great Gronka Morka, he was Jim’s father.)

He took another sip of the lukewarm tea.

Now came the penultimate question, what was he supposed to do with this information?

Should he try to play along with how the timeline went last time? Pretend that his world hadn’t been turned upside-down and act like nothing was out of the ordinary? Or…

Or should he take a card from his future son Young Jim’s book and try to use the foreknowledge he’d been granted?

Time was unpredictable, even the smallest changes could cause things to spiral wildly out of control. There was a dangerous potential in changing the course of time.

But oh, was it a tempting thought.

How many could have been saved with just a bit of warning? More time to prepare? A chance to be ready for what was coming?

A few extra protections here, a few warnings there, so many little things had been ignored or dismissed before that could make a world of difference now!

Soft, five-fingered hands tightened around the mug.

The problem was, how was he supposed to make them happen?

He was a human.

He had no way to contact Trollmarket, no way to find Kanjigar (he was alive. Kanjigar was alive), no way to prove his foreknowledge without them thinking he was a changeling trying to trick them.

(Jim, his son, hadn’t even been born yet.)

After spending so much time doing something, taking action, the idea of not even trying just… Didn’t sit well with him.

He couldn’t sit back and watch, he had to do something. But what?

What could he…

“Jamsie?”

Blinky/James jumped in his seat, twisting around to look at the figure standing in the doorway (and almost unseating himself in the process).

Norman, the tall, dark-skinned man that he shared this house with, squinted blearily at him from the hall.

“It’s almost four in the morning, what are you doing up?”

He fumbled for an answer, his head still a mess from the Decade of memories that had been dumped into his head that morning.

(This man was Blinky/James’ friend. A good friend. Someone who gave him a chance, and helped him get back on his feet. Someone he never got to meet again… What had happened to him? )

“Oh! Ah, N-Norman! Couldn’t sleep, I’m fine. Just fine!” The tall man leveled a flat and very unimpressed look at him, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Pull the other one Jamsie, it’s got bells on it,” Norman said dryly. “I’d like to think that, after living with you for this long, I can tell when you ain’t being honest with me. Now what’s the actual answer?”

Norman stepped fully into the room, slowly meandering over as he watched Blinky/James stumble over his words. Trying to find an answer good enough for him. He let out a sigh.

“Jamsie, I may be a weirn, but I’d like to think I’m someone you can talk to if something’s up. I can’t guarantee I’ll believe it, but you know that I’ll listen.”

The troll-turned-human hesitated.

(Weirn, a class of witch. But Norman was a good man. A kind one.)

(James trusted him. And Blinky could probably learn to.)

Norman knew about the amnesia he'd suffered from, so perhaps that would be the best place to start.

"I- I've finally remembered. My name, my-my everything…"

So he told him. Told him that he was actually a troll by the name of Blinkous Galadrigal, Blinky to his friends, who'd been trying to find some materials that had been lost on the surface world. That he still didn't know what had caused his transformation but, if he had to guess, it may have been due to one of the items he'd gone to fetch (which may have also been responsible for his memory loss). That he'd lived in Trollmarket, which was hidden beneath Arcadia and accessed with a special stone via the bridges of the canal.

That he had no idea how to contact his friends to tell them that he was alive or prove that he was the real thing. That if he tried he would run the risk of being found by the terrible Gumm-Gumm Bular (oh Deya, Bular was alive too) or a changeling in his service or by goblins or something else equally dreadful and dangerous to his current, very human self.

And once he'd started talking, the rest of the story spilled out as well.

That he remembered more.That he knew about things that would happen in the future.

That he would marry his current girlfriend, Barbara (fierce, brave, tolerant Barbara), and they would have a wonderful little boy they would dub Jim. That he would vanish on Jim's fifth birthday and be found wandering the sewers in a daze by Kanjigar without the memories of his time as a human. He'd be brought back to Trollmarket and never know about the human family he'd left behind. Years would pass and he would only meet them again due to the Amulet of Daylight choosing Jim to be the new trollhunter, with no idea that the young boy was his son.

He told his current friend (whom he never got to meet a second time) everything that followed after that. Every triumph, every hurdle, every loss, and tragedy that came. About how Trollkind itself had changed and grown thanks to the wonderful, amazing, unfaltering young man that became part of their lives. (He'd never noticed when he'd stood up and started pacing the room, gesturing wildly as he spoke, unable to remain sitting in the wake of the emotions spilling out beside the story.)

All the pain and suffering his son had gone through trying to help the world.

He'd laughed and cried and raged and mourned in the dark kitchen while Norman sat at the table, calm and steady and listening.

By the end of it, the barest beams of the dawn were filtering in through the windows and Blinky/James felt exhausted and thoroughly rung out. But he also felt a lot lighter than when he'd first woken up with over a decade of memories flooding his mind.

From his seat, Norman let out a gusty exhale.

"Well, that's a lot more than I was expecting. Feel any better now that you let it out?" Blinky/James nodded, slumping back into his seat and grabbing his now-cold tea. Norman hummed.

"I knew trolls were a thing, even if I never had the pleasure of meeting any before. So I can confirm that ain't you being crazy and that I believe you about it.” He looked over at the troll-turned-human with a serious face, the sort reserved for clients who were in over their heads and they could both tell that they genuinely needed help. “I’m on your side though. I want to help you, even if this feels really… Strange, on my end. Tell me what you need, what you want help with, and I’ll do what I can."

Norman scrubbed a hand over his face with a sigh. "Geeze, the way you were acting earlier makes a lot more sense now. A ruddy existential crisis at four in the morning, what a way to start the day…"

Yes, an “existential crisis” certainly fit how he was handling all of this. Blinky/James let out an exhausted hum, staring into the dredges of his tea.

“So…” Norman started idly tapping his fingers on the table. “Which should I be calling you by, now?”

“Come again?”

“Which name?” he clarified, looking over at him. “Which name do you want me to use? Should I start calling you Blinkous? Or would you rather I keep using James?”

Blinky/James stared uncomprehendingly at him. He let out an amused huff.

“Alright, identity is still in question. Got it. I’ll try asking later.”

In question…

Norman had hit on that fairly well.

He was still confused (perhaps “disoriented” would be a better word?) despite being able to talk, to explain, everything that he’d remembered that morning. He was only just starting to get his feet under him, metaphorically, after the many years of memories and knowledge that had appeared.

In a way, his identity was in question. Even to himself.

So much of who he’d thought he was had been thrown into the air. Everything he’d built as James, and everything he knew as Blinky (both past and future) had put him at a crossroad. Which path was he meant to take?

(Was he Blinky? Or was he James?)

(Or, perhaps, there was a third option?)

“I don’t mind if you keep calling me Jamsie.”

AN: AHAHAHAHA IT'S DONE!!!

Hi folks, this was actually harder than I thought it would be to get out. Blinky/James has many feelings right now and it was hard to wriggle my way through them all to get some forward motion in there.

I've also finally dropped a teensy bit of info to allow me to reveal at least one of the fun crossover thingies I wanted to put into here! The Weirns!

I'm a tremendous fan of the Weirn Books by Svetlana Chmakova, especially the initial Nightschool books, and have been forever disappointed that I've never really seen other people talk about them. So I'm writing some stuff for it myself. Partially because it kinda bugs me how SMALL the world of magic feels in Trollhunters. With how vast and varied the world is, only ever seeing trolls, gnomes, wizards, and a few aliens feels like just a splash in a pond that should be much deeper.

So I'm going to try to expand it all in a way that (I hope) makes everything flow together in a fun way without messing them up.

Plus, it gives more stuff for Blinky to have a crisis over.

There's a reason Blinky's letting Norman keep calling him "Jamsie". Part of it is the identity thing, but it's also that the part of him that's James feels like it would be REALLY WEIRD if Norman stopped calling him that. And, to a small degree, he's not thinking of trying to go back to Trollmarket yet. So it's also a bit of a mindset thing.

If yall wanna ask questions for more info, drop off an ask.

#trollhunters #tales of arcadia #toa #3below #wizards #rise of the titans #rott #the weirn books #nightschool series #crossover #the things we thought we knew au #ttwtwk au #blinky is james lake au #blinkous galadrigal #blinky #ttwtwk norman #rosies writing #rosies fanfics

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spyridonya · 2 years ago

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18. Sweet william for Kadira/Lann/Daeran please? :)

Flower Prompts

sweet william - i would fight for you

At the very least, I don’t think this is canon for the OT3 ending because I did a long post about it that I haven’t uh... posted. It is a bit melodramatic and angsty, but Kadira is not always the mature adult in the room and a little less so after the events in Areelu’s lab and the Other in Act 5. Cut for Trigger Warnings: Suicide Discussion and it being nearly 2k words.

There came a knock, and Kadira found her hand trembling even as it wrapped around the knob of the door to her room.

Perhaps it's Regill with last minute reports. Perhaps it's Anevia with some remarkable insight. Perhaps it's Seelah ready to pass her a flask of apple brandy for the journey before her. Perhaps...

The Knight Commander pulled the door open with trepidation and she wasn’t too surprised to see Count Arendae and the Chief of Neatherhome standing there. She wasn’t even surprised they were together and stood so closely together.

Rather, she's alarmed by the expression on each of their faces.

Kadee has seen the stoic rage on Lann's face before, the expression he wears when the mirth and depreciation dies on his lips and he has his bow in hand. However, Lann has never aimed that gaze directly at her; the furrowing of his brows and narrowing lids of both his eyes, his fine mouth a straight line in perfect alignment from human cheek to scaled maw. .

Kadira has seen that rage on Daeran's face, though it’s so rare to see. However, even Daeran's anger is beautiful; the red of flush on his cheeks, his full lips drawn so tightly his dimples show, the flare of gold overwhelming the green in his eyes. Daeran’s jaw is held like stone, his features sharp as a knife.

He wore this very expression the last time they spoke-- no, shouted at each other.

Kadira doesn't know what expression she's wearing, though she supposes it's wary, as she looks from one man to the other, the silence akin to a thunderstorm in winter.

There had always been silences between them. Some awkward like spring edging from winter, some blissful and warm like the first days of summer.

So very few of them were like this.

She wanted Daeran to cut her with some barb 'Kadira, darling, we can always follow your tracks, you can't escape from what you did'. She wanted ponderous judgment from Lann, poorly mixed with humor and the weight learned from Derenge, 'Retreat? After all you said? Cut me a break.”

There is only silence.

The tiefling lifted her head high, made her shoulders square, curled her tail around her leg, and spoke, "You both should be sleeping, once the sun rises it will be a busy day for yo-"

"No," Lann spoke first, and Kadira saw a twitch of his jaw, "Tomorrow is not going to be a busy day for me. Will it be for you, Daeran?"

"Oddly it would be remarkably lackadaisical for myself, such a remarkable coincidence," Daeran said, the tone arched but not yet slicing.

Kadira's fingers twisted around the knob, safely hidden from their scorching eyes. She attempted to set her own jaw, "I'm not sure how either you would know what lies in store for tomorrow, mission objectives have not been handed out yet."

There's a glance exchanged between the two, but it softened nothing.

"Arueshalae and Sosiel have received orders they would be marching with you before dawn along with Seelah, Regill, and Ember.” Daeran explained, his tone amused with that edge held back, “Lann and I would be following the next morning with the rest of your retinue."

Her limbs were cold now, to match the feeling in her stomach, but she would not allow herself the luxury of turning away, "I have made the decision as Knight Commander, you both will be covering my back as the instructions you'll be receiving states." Was it Seelah who told them?

"And that's when things get more curious, Commander." Lann replied, as if answering her question as he placed his hand on the edge of the door, as if he didn’t trust her to keep the door open, "Not only did Regill tell us about the change, he shared a particular insight with me. You were heavily focused on our forces returning without you."

"Not curious at all, Lann, you were there when the Inheritor spoke to me." Kadira forced her tone to sound even, if not haughty. Even if she wasn't Camellia who still haunted her in shadows, "I want the troops to return home safe, regardless of outcome."

"Yes, I know you, Kadee," The slip into her nickname might have been a mistake, it might not, but she was sure she visibly winced all the same. It made no difference, "Always on top of things, always dotting the i and crossing the t." From her side gaze, she saw Daeran's nostrils flare in anger. "Your instructions were extraordinarily detailed in case you shouldn't make it back."

She took a breath and dug her nails against the solid brass of the knob, they were too short to damage it, but the sensation kept her grounded and in character, "Well, if I'm alive, no one needs as much detail-"

"Where is your pendent?" Daeran demanded, his silence breaking, crashing like the ocean, "Where are your mala beads?" The questions weren't questions, not the way the aasimar had said them, not as the dark gold of his brows furrowed further.

"They're at my desk… I’m... I’m not a foolish little girl. I have no intention on wearing them anymore.” The cruel part of her was glad to see them both wince, “Not after what happened. I’m not stupid.”

"How peculiar,” Daeran was quicker to recover, undeterred save the momentary expression, ”Arsinoe came to me with a specific request she received from One Eye concerning a strange ceremony you asked him to do." Daeran began, "He had assumed it was a Shelynite custom to burn keepsakes from loved ones when their owner passed, but he was afraid to speak to Sosiel." The aasimar looked her straight into her eyes, refusing to release her gaze, "One Eye reasoned that Arisone would be more knowledgeable about the ceremony due funerals are often under Abadar's jurisdiction. However, Arsinoe had never heard of such a rite and found it odd that the old man was asking these questions. As such, she decided to ask me because I am still your lover and she knows me better than she does Lann."

The urge to repeat 'they're at my desk' laid thick on Kadira's tongue. After all, it was the truth. And what did Daeran mean by still? They weren’t. They had been furious, and every right to be furious. Hadn’t she egged them on? Make the cut clean?

Somehow, the tiefling found her voice, "She wouldn't know, my grandfather's clan performed such funeral rites. I trust One Eye enough not to sell the pendent, since we saved his life, and you both would be on the march.” Hate me too much to mourn me, like I planned. “It’s a private affair and not even something you two ough-”

"Talk to me," Lann interrupted, “Talk to us."

"I think you've both made it clear what you both think of me.” A liar, a manipulator, “How I prepare for defeat or the eventual closure of the Worldwound is up to me." Kadira wished she could slam the door.

"Yes, just like you didn't tell me about the Other until it nearly killed all of us, until it nearly killed you! Just like you made the decision for Daeran to be judged by the Inquisition,"

"Yes, exactly like that." Each of the words she spoke tore into Kadira, "I realize you're upset with my decisions these last few weeks, but there is nothing to be done. You both should-"

"Kadira of Kenabras, do you truly believe I have no idea what you're doing? That Lann doesn't know?" They stopped arguing to look at Daeran whose gaze pinned her with no mercy, as if the door meant nothing, as if she didn't hold divine might that could sear his flesh and bones. "How long have you been running head first to suicide?"

"Since Galfrey made me Knight Commander,” She replied steadily.

Again, the silence thundered once more, the expression on both their faces caught off guard.

"This doesn't have anything to do with our break up," She continued, head held high, refusing the tears. It was a skill she was remarkable at. "You heard the Inheritor, both of you, when I chose my powers that-" That made you fearful, that disgusted you. "I-- It is either Areelu or myself-"

"Kadee, you're talking about something I don't fully understand," Lann's voice was suddenly so gentle, "This isn't to ambush you, we just want to help you, despite everything I still want to be-"

“She’s made me into something that isn’t me.” She found herself snapping at Lann to cut him short, “I haven’t been me since I was 12! I … You both were there. You saw the story about her daughter, how much I looked like that daughter, how much Areelu wanted to hollow me out and fill me with her grief.”

They said nothing, and she went on, “I clung to my decision to receive the power she granted to me to be something angelic. It was mine. It was the first choice I made that was all me. No matter what you two thought, it was mine. And this can be mine too. It’s my death. My sacrifice. She can’t use me anymore and I don’t have to doubt myself.”

“Why then,” Daeran was the first to speak, though he did nothing in the attempt to hold the door open. Lann’s grip was still on the door, and it was strong. The count knew this, “Why did you began this with me? With him?”

“I… I wanted to keep you close because of the Other and then… then I realized I lo-liked you, despite everything, Daeran. And Lann… Lann just reminded me of my life before I was kidnapped. But I saw… I saw you two together despite everything. And then it fell all into my lap and I…” She swallowed thickly and shook her head. “I wanted you two to be happy, I knew I was going to die and I wanted you two be happy.”

Something inside gave way and broke.

"I didn't mean to fall in love with either of you!" Kadira sobbed out, the tears surprised her, "I never meant to hurt either of you! Not like this! I only lied about the Other to keep you both safe. I only allowed Liotr his trial to get him away from Daeran, to arrange a safe passage, to-" Kadira began pushing at the door with all her might, wanting to slam it between them and herself, "I am not going to drag you to my death and I am not going to allow you to mourn me-!”

Lann's grip on the door suddenly let go, causing Kadira to surge forward and lose her balance and she cried out in surprise. Her hand scrambled for the knob but found her hands had become too slippery with sweat. Her knees hit the ground and she yelped in pain, just as the door was suddenly pushed open without her forced weight behind it.

Oh, she thought as she blinked up and her vision was suddenly blurry with tears, despite the sob was dead on her tongue. I needed the key to keep it shut. Before she could say another word to Lann, Kadira found herself scooped up by solid, strong arms that promptly carried her to the bed before sitting her down. Lann was on her right side and she felt the weight dip as Daeran joined her on her left side.

"You are not going to drag us to your death, and we are not going to mourn you." Lann said quietly as she felt Daeran's fingers lace with her own, "And you are not marching tomorrow morning.” Kadira did not resist when Lann’s hand became lost in her curls to pull her head on his shoulder, “You’re staying here. With us. And we’re all going to talk. And then? We’re saving the world and you.”

#answered ask #dujour13 #commander x daeran #lann x daeran #commnader x lann #commander x daeran x lann #tw sucidal ideation #(this is the worst love confession of all time)#(during the middle of a break down)#(but for all of those holding their break)#(lann and daeran love her)#(i am so sorry it took forever!)#(this was hard to write up and it was hard to edit)#(and it's a little overdramatic)#(but it's no longer 'canon')#(argh i added enough words to be 3 words from 2k!!)

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an-aura-about-you · 2 years ago

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you ever have a fanfic you know you're not gonna write but the ideas keep bouncing around in your head so you gotta do an infodump somewhere?

that's what we're doing today so here we go: TMA fic I'll never write in which Somewhere Else is Lunar (during the events of Lunar 2)

(or "gee Leo, how come you get to hunt down two destroyers?")

-ngl I've been thinking about this ever since I started reading clutching a map of dreams, which is a fantastic Final Fantasy X fusion au and y'all should go read it even if you don't know a thing about ffx because the characterization and action is superb

-I likewise have some cherished RPGs from my youth and one in particular clicks with this like no other

-I'd start it out some time before canon gets going, but not too far out. just far enough that we've got a little bit of time for the boys to acclimate to the world they've found themselves in before the action starts.

-start with Jon, who wakes up and is surprised to do so. holy shit, he made it! they made it! wait where's Martin? wait is he in some kind of carriage?

-turns out Jon was found by the caravan that sets up the carnival in the Madoria Plains. This Causes Some Concern, at least until he realizes he's not restrained in any way and nobody's setting off Stranger Vibes.

-also Jon feels???? way better than he probably should have considering he just got stabbed???? and that's how he learns that magic (aka RPG mechanics) are in play

-(debating on whether he grows his ribs back or not. I'm inclined to say they did just because That Shit's Funny.)

-first big hurdle actually comes from learning Lunar is Lunar and not Earth. first time he goes outside and sees the Blue Star he nearly has a breakdown then and there. (that is the Earth that is the Earth in the sky I am looking at the Earth which means I'm NOT on Earth what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck)

-eventually he does manage to adjust and make friends with the musicians. operating on The Mechanisms were Jon's Band in Uni rules, he's able to contribute that way.

-he and Jean become sibling-like friends. (she's like, "Hey, I'm not the newest member anymore!") neither learns the full scope of the other's past until considerably later, though. (Once they do, they're like, "Hey, both of us were orphans that found our family later!")

-he discovers that he's retained some of his powers as an avatar of Beholding but under Lunar's magic system rules, as well as develop some new abilities such as making himself invisible. he's relieved that he has more control over whether he compels information out of others.

-(he's not entirely sure how he feels about Althena, but he would rather choose her over the Ceaseless Watcher as far as sources of power go.)

-so Jon's there with the caravan when our intrepid party of heroes show up having adjusted as well as one can over the course of, say, a few months.

-holy shit Lucia has the Lonely coming off of her in waves. Jon is seriously concerned that she might become a catalyst for some Forsaken ritual.

-Jon finds that baby dragons are utterly adorable and is grateful that he's not prone to baby-talk around cats and things that look like cats, thus earning Ruby's respect.

-after Jean leaves with the party, Jon decides to take his leave on his own, now confident enough in his abilities on Lunar to try to find Martin.

-except when everyone goes to town, they find some wanted posters. one for Lucia and her party, and one for Jon.

-"wtf why is Leo calling Jon a destroyer????" vs "how tf did he know I'm a destroyer?????"

-Jon gets captured by Leo and jailed in the Dragonship Destiny a couple of times as well as an attempt at Lemina's Magic Mansion and an encounter with Ghaleon, the last of these setting off all kinds of alarm bells because Ghaleon Very Much Should Be Dead. ("Is he connected to Terminus?")

-the last time Jon's captured by Leo, he breaks out of his cell and tries to escape at Azado, but That Doesn't Work Out What With The City Being On Fire. (fuck this reeks of Desolation)

-but also oh hey Jean, Lemina, and Lucia are tied up on the deck of the Dragonship Destiny what's up guys? oh cool, Leo went with Hiro, Ronfar, and Ruby to take care of the fire, that will give us time to escape.

-This doesn't get very far because it's not long after that when Mauri shows up for her confrontation. Then Leo and the rest of the party join in. AND THEY HAVE MARTIN WITH THEM!

-Jon is ecstatic! Whatever fight they have with Obvious Desolation Avatar Mauri, they can manage it now that he's found Martin! Except that Martin seems to know Leo? AND Mauri???? And HE was the one who told Althena's Guard that Jon is a destroyer???????

-Jon's got a lot to think about on the way to Pentagulia.

-But also they've got some time on a boat so it's time for stories to come out. (including Ronfar and Jon both being puzzled about how their SOs know each other and other members of the party thinking they have to explain homosexuality to Lucia but she's just confused about why they're bothering to explain this when no one's thought to explain heterosexuality to her.)

-this also means Jon's finally up to speed with what the player would know at this point: entity called Zophar trying to destroy Lunar, Lucia's here to stop him, the campaign Zophar engineered against Lucia, what's the deal with Althena's Chosen (with the additional sting of them informing Jon that Martin was wearing the garb of one of their priests)

-at some point there's a talk between Jon and Lucia and he ends up understanding what's at stake far better than Lucia anticipated he would. it's a nice little friendship moment.

-They arrive at Pentagulia and it's time to split up the party for everyone to make their appointments with their plot threads, which means Jon's semi-tagging along with Ronfar as they go to the Red Tower to confront Martin and Mauri respectively. It goes about as well as people who know the game expect it to, with Martin speaking to Jon as if everything is normal, that this is the way things have always been for them, and that nothing has changed between them. (but there was one moment with a break when Jon, as a last resort, compels Martin to tell him what's happening. In lieu of any actual answers, Martin gives him a horrified look and begs him to leave while he still can.)

-once that plot matter is wrapped up in the canon way (with Jon being courteous enough to not comment on how Mystere is obviously Leo), it's time to regroup and try a different approach. in this time, Jon receives a letter from Martin.

-let's back up to before the story begins one more time

-Martin wakes up in Raculi. only the problem is he was already up and moving when he comes to.

-turns out he was found by the Chosen and cleansed (that is, made to drink Zophar's blood) before he came to. and now he's working as an assistant to Lady Mauri

-he wakes up in time to hear himself tell Mauri about Jon and how he's already destroyed one world, fighting to stop himself but physically unable to.

-from this point on, Martin's been a prisoner in his own body, watching as he helps Mauri "cleanse" the sinful with fire and blood, struggling to get his body back under his own control. but it's no use. he's a vessel for Zophar.

-he writes down as much of this as he can in the letter to Jon in the brief moments he can actually control his hands, finishing it by telling Jon that he's sorry, he loves him, but should they meet again Jon should mercy kill him because otherwise he might not be able to stop his body from killing Jon.

-(the reason Martin's able to write and send it at all is because Zophar delights in that kind of torment)

-there would also be a scene with Jon discussing these things with Leo, who is more certain about taking fatal action if need be, and through compulsion Leo admits he is terrified at the idea of striking down Mauri because, even though they aren't as close as they were and she's done horrible things, she's still his sister and he still loves her.

-Jon goes to Raculi with Leo because Leo was ready to kill both Mauri and Martin, and Jon isn't sure if he can actually go through with it but tells Leo that if Martin must die then Jon should honor Martin's implied wish that it be by his hand.

-in a one-on-one fight that proves challenging since Martin is armed with a flail, Jon ends up non-fatally incapacitating Martin while the party fights Mauri's Id. by the time the fight is over, the effects of Zophar's blood wear off and Martin is back in control of himself. cue proper tearful reunion.

-with Mauri also free from the influence of Zophar's blood, she apologizes to Martin for what she did to him. having been in the same situation, Martin understands and forgives her.

-the three of them, Jon, Martin, and Mauri, all stay in Raculi as the party moves on to mount their attack against Zophar. when Zophar starts getting the upper hand, Jon is reasonably concerned it will become another Fear Apocalypse because everything about what he's told indicates that Zophar and the Fears are one and the same.

-in a fit of impulsiveness, Jon proposes to Martin in this time. ("I've already seen one apocalypse with you! I don't want to go through another with the regret of leaving that undone!") Mauri finds a couple of old bracelets of hers to stand in as wedding bands and marries them then and there.

-when the world is inevitably saved with the power of humanity, Jon and Martin get a nice little house in Dalton so they can be close to both where the carnival likes to set up and Raculi where Mauri and Ronfar live. (also there's a hot spring nearby, which, yeah, when you hit the age Jon and Martin are, you want to live by something like that)

-they go out on the occasional adventure, a much more peaceful prospect now that they no longer have the threat of Zophar or the Fears looming over them.

-Jon eventually brings Martin to meet everyone in the carnival, who properly give Jon shit for running off and getting married without telling them and tell Martin about all the pining Jon did for him.

-when they catch wind of Hiro wanting to go to the Blue Star to reunite with Lucia, they're like, "That's crazy but in good conscience we should encourage you because she's Lonely AF and her being the only person on the Blue Star isn't helping with that."

-and they all live happily ever after the end!

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vgckwb · 2 months ago

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P5R: Rebel Girl (A FeMC Story/P5R Rework) Chapter 234: All Kinds of People

The Thieves returned to Leblanc, exhausted after the day’s events. Sojiro was behind the counter, while Sae was sitting at the counter. “You look a little more tired than usual,” Sojiro remarked.

“How did it go?” Sae asked.

“Well…” Makoto answered, “it…was ultimately successful in figuring out our plan of attack.”

“Hm,” Sae sighed. “I know that feeling. Still, good job. At least you didn’t end up pulling teeth and getting nowhere.”

“Um, teeth?” Ryuji wondered.

“It’s an expression, Ryuji,” Morgana chimed in. “It means ‘to do something that is difficult and frustrating’.”

“Oh,” Ryuji said.

“Well, have a seat,” Sojiro said.The Thieves did so. “You know, you have exemplary timing. I was just getting ready to make Miss Niijima here something.”

Just then, the door opened once again. Everyone turned to the door and froze. At the door was Officer Jin Hayashi, Ren’s new parole officer. “Hello,” he said. He walked up to the counter. “I’m feeling a little hungry, and so I thought I should try this curry.”

“Hmmmm,” Sojiro grunted. “I swear the sign said closed.”

“Did it?” Jin said. “I just saw a bunch of kids come in, so I thought it was open.”

“I see,” Sojiro replied.

Jin glanced over to see Sae. Sae was alarmed, as Jin took a second look at her. “Hey wait a second…” Sae gulped. “Aren’t you that Sae Niijima character that the news is saying killed the SIU director?”

“Crap!” Ryuji muttered.

“What do we do?” Makoto panicked.

Jin looked over at The Thieves. “So then, that means…you must be The Phantom Thieves.” There was a silence, as their whole effort to get Shido appeared to have stopped before it could start in earnest. In their panic, they froze completely. “That is AMAZING!” The Thieves broke out of the stunned state and now appeared to be confused. “I have to say, I’m a huge fan.”

“Wait,” Haru said, “you’re a police officer, right?”

Jin nodded. “That’s correct. But don’t let that fool you. I’ve been a supporter since day one.”

“May I ask why?” Sumire wondered.

“Well, it’s a few reasons,” Jin said. “Some of them personal, but I have to tell you one story. The day after Kamoshida confessed his crimes, the school of a daughter of a friend of mine had a copycat calling card calling out their school’s history teacher for similar conduct. There was an investigation, and he was soon arrested. You gave whoever put up that card the courage to speak out about that atrocity. From one purveyor of justice to another, that’s really something.”

“Woah…” Ann said, tears slowly streaming down her face. “That’s…amazing…”

“Forgive me for asking,” Yusuke said, “but how do we know this isn’t a ruse?”

Jin smirked. “Well, I can see why you might think that, but I have reason to doubt some of my fellow officers. For a start, I heard two of them talking about a plan to arrest someone to get them out of the way. When I took that to my captain, he told me that I was ‘working too much’ and ‘seeing things that weren’t there’, and so he took me off the beat and transferred me to being a parole officer.”

“I gotta say,” Ren interjected, “my last parole officer had a similar, but sort of the opposite story. He wanted to be part of that gang, but due to his incompetence, he was also relegated to parole officer.”

“Huh,” Jin said. “How interesting. Do you know who might be directing those officers to do all of that?”

“We just found out for ourselves,” Jose said. “But we’re working on it.”

“I see,” Jin responded.

“Wait!” Futaba said. “These people killed my mom! We’re just accepting that this isn’t a trick right away?! How can we be so sure?”

“It’s not,” Sae countered. "I know he's on the level."

Jin looked over at her. “Oh? Do tell.”

“Well for starters, I’m a trained prosecutor,” Sae said. “I know how to look for lies and inconsistencies. And while he might be a bit peculiar, he hasn’t told a lie so far. But also…I know what it feels like to be ostracized by your peers for having an independent streak. I was never the most popular person at the SIU. Part of that was my age, part of that was my gender, and part of that was my skill. But the thing that sets off people in that kind of work is working outside of the confines of the rest of the group. And I see that in you.”

Jin smiled. “Wow. It’s like you really get me.”

“Well, we have to make sure that we can unravel this conspiracy,” Sae said. “Otherwise I’ll still be wanted, and we’ll be under the thumb of a grade-A asshole! So I had to bring my A-game.”

“I see,” Jin said. He turned back to Futaba. “I apologize about your mother. I know it can be hard when a child loses their parent.”

Futaba was taken aback. “I, uh…thanks...”

“So,” Ren interjected, “what is going to happen if you aren’t turning us in?”

“Well, as your parole officer, I can keep all this under wraps,” Jin said.

“In case we fail, you’ll get dragged along down with us,” Ren reminded him.

Jin nodded. “I’d rather have you guys as company than some officers who distort what justice is.”

“Otherwise you wouldn’t be here now, would you,” Sae said.

“See, you get it,” Jin replied. “Although, I do have to ask…you didn’t kill the director, did you?”

“No,” Sae admitted. “He killed himself.”

“Oh,” Jin replied, surprised. “That is bold if I do say so myself.” He turned to Sojiro. “So, are we good on that curry? I can take it to go, if you want to keep things on the DL.”

Sojiro nodded. “Despite my appearance, I’m adept at telling when people are lying too. From what I can tell, you’re not a liar.”

“Thanks,” Jin said. “And I’ll pay for everyone else here as well.”

“Um,” Haru interjected. “We don’t us-”

“Thanks,” Futaba interrupted. She gestured to Haru to be quiet.

Sojiro nodded. “Thank you.” He began to cook.

“Mind if I help?” Ren asked.

“Sure,” Sojiro said. “I don’t mind, if you’re up for it.” Ren got behind the counter to help.

After getting his curry in a box, Jin said “Thanks. I’ll come by and tell you how it is.”

“You know, you do have my number,” Sojiro said.

“True,” Jin said. “But I think it’s rude not complimenting the chef personally.”

Sojiro smirked. “You are a strange, yet oddly refined man.”

“Well, I try,” Jin said. “Take care! And remember!” He tapped his nose twice. “Later!” He left.

Ren smirked, and then started to head back to help Sojiro prepare everyone else’s meals. However, she was interrupted by a loud sigh from Sae. She turned towards her. “Are you alright?”

Sae was stunned. “Oh, uh, well, I just find him fascinating. It’s interesting. I see a lot of myself in him. Being left out and relegated to work by yourself, feeling like everyone else is kind of against you. I get it. But at the same time, he and I took two different paths. I became stone cold, while he seems like the kind of person who can light up a room. I mean, I guess my job was more competitive than his, but I also feel like I lost a part of myself in that.”

Ren felt Sae’s words. “You know,” she began, “I feel that. Back in my hometown, people started turning on me for being ‘weird’ and ‘aggressive’ and ‘a freak’. So I pretended that it didn’t bother me. And then it stopped being pretend. And it was only when I came here that I realized how much it bothered me because I wasn’t bothered here as much.”

“Hm,” Sae responded. “What changed?”

“Well, I met people willing to be my friends,” Ren said. “And slowly over time, I learned to let go of things.”

“I bet being given supernatural powers helped with that,” Sae remarked.

“Well, yes and no,” Ren said. “I mean, it’s cool and all, but I had to get stronger myself to wield them effectively. I’m playing with people’s hearts. If my heart wasn’t strong enough to face an ever growing hatred and malaise, I’d fold like an omelet with a bad poker hand.”

“Huh,” Sae said. “You know, I think my job had me doing the opposite.”

“How do you figure?” Ren said.

“People would plead with me to hear them out,” Sae said. “It was one sob story after the next. My mother was a defense attorney, and she told me that people are human and just sometimes make mistakes. My father was like that too when it came to his work. And yet, I felt like I had to turn my emotions off and ignore people’s humanity just to stay ahead.”

She let out another sigh. “I tried my best to be lenient with people who I knew weren’t guilty, but it’s hard to convince the system that someone wasn’t guilty if all you have is an emotion. I had grand designs of a world where I could get in and change the system. But it just felt like the system was eating me alive. And now it’s out to get me.”

“Well…” Ren remarked, “I mean sometimes that’s just what you need.” Sae was confused. “I mean, look at me: I was arrested on false charges, and now I feel like I’m living my best life. Perhaps you just need a new lease on life to shake those emotions out of you again.”

Sae smirked. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.” She took a deep breath. “You know, I think once the dust has settled, I might become a defense attorney. Like my mom.”

Ren smiled back. “Well good luck with that.”

“You know,” Sae said, “I usually wasn’t one for luck before; it felt like getting wished ‘luck’ undermined my merit. But I’m feeling a little more loose and accepting.”

“I mean, flipping it on its head for a minute,” Ren said, “I’m sure you’re more than capable, so all that’s left is luck.”

“Hm,” Sae replied. “I see. That is an interesting way to look at it. Well then, I wish you luck in figuring this out.”

Ren giggled. Thanks.

Judgement-Sae Niijima: Rank 2

“I should get back to helping Sojiro,” Ren noted. Sae nodded, and Ren continued helping Sojiro.

Once their dinner was ready, The Thieves sat and discussed the day’s events. “So,” Sumire said, “it seems like this palace will just be a matter of finding the people Shido trusts and getting their letters of recommendation. Although that seems easier said than done.”

“I agree,” Morgana said. “Especially with a man like Shido. If he’s willing to kill people to achieve his goals, the people he trusts have to be really crafty.”

“I don’t know if he trusts them fully,” Jose said, “but he trusts them enough.”

“I think I agree,” Ann said. “I mean, all of his guests were wearing masks. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had one too if we manage to spot him.”

“I don’t know if that will happen,” Haru warned. “I think he is on to us to some degree. Plus he’s generally paranoid. I think he’ll only come out if he absolutely has to.”

“I think Haru’s right,” Futaba said. “I mean, he has my mom’s research. He has some level of knowledge of what goes on on the other side. I wouldn’t be surprised if we don’t see him.”

“Regardless, we have another obstacle to contend with,” Makoto reminded them. “Akechi is controlling this palace. And if it weren’t for Morgana, he’d be controlling us.”

“Yeah,” Ryuji said. “Thanks for that.”

“Hm hm. No problem,” Morgana replied.

“But how do we get Akechi to not hinder our infiltration?” Ryuji asked.

“Well, I assume if we put on a good enough show, he’ll let us do as we please,” Yusuke said.

“But what does that mean?” Jose said.

“Do you have any idea Lena?” Ren asked.

“Hmmmm,” Lena said. “I think he just wants to keep things interesting. He doesn’t like doing anything half-assed.”

“You know,” Ren said, “he told me something similar when we had our confrontation.”

“So, we just have to go above and beyond,” Morgana surmised.

“Ah yeah!” Ryuji cheered. “I can do that!”

“I think it’ll be kind of easy to do as well,” Haru said. “I mean, I don’t think Shido’s palace is going to be a walk in the park. There’s probably some form of devious trap that we need to figure out at some point.”

Makoto nodded. “Plus the shadows here will be tougher than ever before.”

“Not to mention those six people that he ‘trusts’,” Futaba added. “Getting their letters will be no simple task.”

“I see,” Yusuke siad. “In a way, this palace is an ouroboros. We have to keep things interesting, while at the same time, the palace itself will prove to be interesting.”

“That’s not to say that we should let the palace do the heavy lifting,” Sumire said. “Remember, we’re here to disrupt everything. We have to take everything that this palace has and one up it ourselves if we’re going to steal Shido’s heart.”

“Yeah!” Lena added. “And to break Goro out of this trance he’s in! I hate seeing him like this!”

“I think we all do,” Morgana said. “To some extent.”

“Yeah,” Ryuji said. “I get that he’s your boyfriend and all, but we all don’t want him to be like this.”

“I know,” Lena said. “Just like Goro should know that no matter how much Shido hurt him, he’s hurt other people as well. He’s not the only one who deserves revenge.”

“Well damn,” Ryuji replied.

Ann giggled. “You go girl!”

Ren smirked. “Well, it sounds like we have a plan. Of course, there are still complications, and we’re basically playing this by ear, but dammit if that’s not how we’ve always operated.” She raised her coffee cup. “To us!”

“To us!” Everyone else cheered. They then started eating.

Once they finished, as they were about to leave, Sumire stopped and said “Oh yeah. I wanted to ask Morgana something.”

“What is it?” Morgana asked.

“Well, when you introduced yourself to the crowd,” Sumire began, “you said you were The Left Hand of The Phantom Thieves.”

“Yeah?” Morgana said.

“Who’s the right hand?” Sumire asked.

“Oh yeah,” Makoto said. “That is a little peculiar.”

“Yeah, I’d thought you’d want to be the Right hand,” Ryuji said. “Or perhaps you’d rather I have it?”

“No way!” Ann said. “If anything, I’d get it! I was with her since the beginning.”

“Me too,” Ryuji countered.

“Not as much as I have,” Ann argued.

“Why don’t we ask Ren who it might be?” Jose interjected.

Everyone looked at Ren. She got a little flustered. “Well, to be honest, I kind of saw myself as being a first among equals.” She glanced at Morgana. “But I am curious to know who you think it is.”

Morgana shrugged. “When I said that, I was under the assumption Sumire was your Right Hand.”

“Huh?” Ryuji said.

“Oh, I get it!” Ann said.

“Is it not just because they’re dating?” Yusuke asked.

“Well, that is part of it,” Ann explained. “But it goes a little deeper. Like, in anime and television and stuff, someone’s right hand is the person that keeps the leader grounded. And Sumire always manages to help keep Ren…I was gonna say ‘straight’, but that might not be the optimal word here.”

“Focused?” Futaba suggested.

“Yeah,” Ann said. “That’s better.”

Haru giggled. “Well, I think it’s cute.”

Lena sighed. “It is. And I hope that Goro and I can get back there someday.”

Sumire consoled Lena. “I’m sure it’ll work out.”

Lena smiled. “Thanks.”

“Oh yeah…” Ryuji said. “I see what you mean now.”

“Glad you finally caught up,” Morgana teased.

“Well, better late than never, I suppose,” Ryuji replied.

Morgana was confused. “Why aren’t you flying off the handle?”

“Eh,” Ryuji shrugged. “I mean, you are right this time. If anyone were Ren’s right hand, it’d be Sumire. I can’t get mad at that.”

Morgana sighed. “Well, I can’t argue with that.”

Ann giggled. “It’s nice to see the two of you getting along.” Morgana and Ryuji smiled. Ren smirked. They then headed out to go home for the night.

As Ren entered her room, she closed the door. She started walking to her bed, but felt something. She turned back to see Eris standing before here. “Miss me?”

“What do you want?” Ren snided.

“Just to give you a fair warning,” Eris replied. “You’re on the precipice of taking down the people abusing the metaverse. Once that’s said and done, I won’t have anyone for you to go against.”

“Good,” Ren responded. “I don’t want to fight any more people you make into puppets. I’d rather take you down.”

Eris chuckled. “Famous last words.”

“Are you scared?” Ren said. “You keep wanting to talk me out of it, but you aren’t doing a good job.”

“Scared?” Eris scoffed. “Do you really think I have it in me to be scared? I’m aware of several thousand ways that everything could go wrong, and have seen it all play out. A devastating earthquake. A tsunami the size of Honshu. A conflict between gangs that catches everyone in the crossfire. Explosions at power plants. Every second everything has a chance to go wrong. I am not afraid of you fighting me. I think you’re afraid of fighting me. Because once you see the world for what it is, a tinderbox in which even the smallest ember can set the whole world on fire, you will not be able to handle what comes next.”

Ren rolled her eyes. “Well, seeing as I’ve faced complete ostracization in my home town, threats of sexual harassment, people abusing their power left and right, a little girl being framed for her mother’s death, a woman so badly pushed down by the world that she lashed out at the people she was supposed to help, the strings of a conspiracy that aims to take over this entire country, and several people me and my friends care about becoming shadows of their former selves at your hands, I will gladly step into that fire, because it won’t hurt half as bad as all of that.”

Eris leaned in. “You’re right. It’ll hurt ten times more.”

Ren was confused. “Why are you so sure?”

“I beg your pardon?” Eris replied.

“What makes you believe I cannot handle the truth?” Ren clarified. “The truth is everything I seek, be it good or bad. I mean, the bad stuff sucks, but I’d rather have it said to my face than hidden behind innuendo.”

“Hmmmmm,” Eris replied. “I still don’t know if you’re ready for the full truth, but I can give you another truth.”

Ren sighed. “I’ll take that, I suppose.”

Eris giggled. “It seems like you and Akechi were fated to fight.”

Ren was confused. “I’m not following.”

“You see,” Eris siad, “when it was Yaldabaoth’s game you were playing, he had plans on giving Akechi a persona too. His idea was that you and he would fight, with him representing order, and you representing chaos. Of course, when I took over, I saw no reason for him to have a persona. After all, if you and I are meant to spar, I don’t need to load the deck against you even more than it needed to be.

However, his heart is strong. He was determined to get into Shido’s circle in order to exact the revenge he so desires. So even without a persona, he went into the lion’s den. And I knew that if Akechi were to execute his revenge, you and him would clash at some point. So even without his persona, he still wants to fight.”

“So, you just made him dependent on your power,” Ren retorted.

“You could say that,” Eris responded. “However, I think even without power, he still would have tried fighting you if you were going to go after Shido.”

“Maybe,” Ren said. “But we’ll never know. SInce you corrupted him and all.”

“Oh honey,” Eris said, condescendingly. “You know I always ask people if they want my power. They take it willingly. Well, except for you, of course.”

“So, you just prey on weak people,” Ren countered.

“Oh save it!” Eris said, annoyed. “Change doesn’t come from people who don’t want it.”

“But we don’t have to sink to your level to get it,” Ren replied.

“So, you’d rather play the game rules as written?” Eris siad. “Newsflash, that makes you no better than anyone at the top. It takes miracles to dislodge those people, not the rules.”

“Forgive me for not wanting to kill someone whenever something doesn’t go my way,” Ren remarked. “Yeah, some of those rules are dumb, but there are others that make sense. It’s a fine line, but ignoring everything and declaring yourself the new rulemaker makes you no better than anyone at the top.”

Eris sighed. “OK, you have to admit, this is getting old. Whether it’s true or not, do you have anything else?”

“My opinion of you is set in stone,” Ren said. “I’m sorry I don’t have any fresh criticism to offer. However, if you want something new, you can just tell me. You keep alluding to something big that’ll happen when we face off. Why not tell me now? If you want to shake things up, you can.”

Eris laughed. “Silly child. I keep telling you you’re not ready. But if you want me to pull back the curtain a little bit, I will agree with you that the truth is a powerful weapon. However, like most weapons, when it is pointed at you, you’ll do anything to get out of the way. And when I point the truth at you, you’ll be wishing for a lie to take it all away.”

“Hm,” Ren grunted. “You just don’t get it.” Eris was confused. “Truth is only a weapon if you’re afraid of it. I’m not afraid of the truth. If you pointed the truth at me right now, I wouldn’t flinch.”

“Heh heh heh,” Eris chuckled. “I see. I suppose you’ve always been intriguing. I’m still going to make you work to get to my truth, but I’ll pull back the curtain a little more: The human heart is nothing but chaos. Any sense of ‘order’ is just a chaos that got enforced enough times. I’m as bad as anyone of the palace rulers, but so are you. So is everyone. No one is pure. No one is righteous. We are all nothing but beings of impulse and fear.

The question never was ‘are you afraid of what’s inside of you if you let it out?’ The question has always been ‘are you more afraid of what’s inside you or what’s outside now?’ Because let’s face it, all the people that get ahead let it out. They focus their chaos and learn to control the world through the beast within. That’s all I want. I want everyone to unleash their beast within. Wouldn’t the world be a better place if everyone started from equal footing? Wouldn’t the world be a better place if we all could take advantage of our inner strength?”

“Hm,” Ren smirked. “I’ve got to say, for being the emissary of chaos, that’s a weak answer.” Eris was confused.”The truth is a world like that would get boring. If the rules change every day because we’ve all let out our inner beast, then it wouldn’t be special. Variety is the spice of life. An idea is only crazy if we aren’t all insane. And yet, you come here with your false equivalence saying that everyone is bad just because they do stuff that is wrong.

Here’s my truth for you: The world we live in currently is already the embodiment of chaos. Everyone has different ideas and different reactions to everything. It’s a symphony of balancing between everyone’s wants and needs. Is it perfect? Of course not! But there are people who are willing to fight to make it better, and people fighting to make it worse. What you described is a world where everyone is a carbon copy of the next person. That sounds like mass order to me.” She grinned. “How’s it feel when the truth is pointed at you?”

Eris glared at her. She sighed. “Fine. You did tell me your opinion was set in stone anyway. I guess you can’t understand what is coming your way.”

“You could tell me,” Ren said.

“You’ll have to make things not fuzzy first,” Eris reminded her. “I could tell you, but it's still possible for you to fail here. And I don’t want to distract you further.” She pointed her blade at Ren. “Just a reminder: If you manage to unravel this conspiracy, it’ll just be you all versus me. I gave you plenty of chances to opt out. When I challenge you next time, I’ll bring my full force to bear, and I won’t let you wriggle out of this.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Ren countered.

Eris nodded. “You have been warned.”

Hunger-Eris: Rank 8

Eris disappeared. Ren sighed, exhausted from the day’s events. She got into her pajamas, and then into bed.

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megamattzx · 9 months ago

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Age 881, the Time Patrol had been active for 90 years at this point. The organization had been going strong. Its influence was growing larger and larger every day. Things were becoming much easier than they used to be. However crises were also a frequent thing. However, a good 20 years of Peace so far, was a nice change of pace. There weren't many cataclysmic events within the Time Patrol for that long. At least nothing that required all of the attention to the Time Patrol. No bombs that could destroy timelines, no God Emperor wreaking havoc across the Omniverse, at least to what most people were aware of. No demon realm members trying to take over, or any other multi dimensional groups.

However, a few versions of the Red Ribbon Army and Frieza Force have been growing its influence to an alarming rate, and the Time Patrol had set their attention on it before the situation could escalate into a potential crisis. So far there hasn't been a full-scale war across realities, yet. However, there are quite a few skirmishes and battles. When the Time Patrol gained Intel of a joint operation between multiple versions of both organizations, the Supreme Kai of Time, Chronoa, since two of her best time patrollers, Son Kakarot Goku Jr, a clone and adopted son of Goku, and Vegeta Jr, a clone and adopted son of Vegeta, to investigate the rumors of this base, to learn what they can about it and even neutralize the operations and any and all Frieza force and Red Ribbon Soldiers.

Little did they know that the two Saiyans are about to uncover a much more sinister plot than what they might have originally expected……..

Timeline29-074, a timeline where there were surviving Saiyans colonizing another planet. They had recently invited Vegeta and the other saiyans of Earth to join them. According to the history info on the time scroll of this timeline,

"If my data is correct, we should be arriving near the base soon enough," Vegeta Jr. said.

"This place is dead like the rest of Yardrat in this timeline," Goku Jr said with irritation in his voice. "Chronoa is getting paranoid. It ain't like her to send pros like us on milk runs.”

It was at that moment Vegeta Jr then quickly stared at his friend in shock. Sure it was normal for him to show a bit of confidence in their abilities, but this irritation, and even anger was something that was building up inside. For a while now Goku Jr could contain it. Then it clicked. It had been nearly 35 years at this point. Ever since the whole fiasco with Kakarot II. Ever since Celia. Goku Jr rarely talked about her after what happened. And very few people knew exactly what it was, with Goku Jr being one of them and he damn well refused to talk about it.

“What the hell's gotten into you, Kaka?” Vegeta Jr then stated, clearly as a response to what his friend just said. This causes Goku Jr to just look at him with a glare. “Don't give me that look!” he then stayed as a response to his friend glaring at him. “Ever since the whole fiasco with your evil twin, Kakarot II, you haven't been the same! You've been more aggressive, less talkative, and quick to anger.”

“Do I anger you!?” Goku Jr snapped back. Unintentionally validating what Vegeta Jr was saying.

“No,” Vegeta Jr responded with. “You worry me….” As soon as he said that last part the calm link began to open and a holo projection of the Supreme Kai of Time was seen forming. "Ah, Lady Chronoa, perfect timing as ever," Vegeta Jr said at the holo projection of Supreme Kai of Time. "Kaka and I were just talking about you not too long ago." The last remark caused Goku Jr to glare at him.

"No doubt," Chronoa said but her demeanor turned serious. “I have concerning news in regards to updates on your mission. Time patrollers have recently intercepted one of the communications in regards to the base that you are investigating. And well, I think it's best that you two have a listen for yourself.”

As soon as she said that she didn't set the communications up to where the recorded communication from the time patrollers as she mentioned began to play. The message was rather concerning, despite them not being able to overhear the entire thing. The static was extremely noticeable as it played.

“Come in Grand Master Haruto…….. this is Captain…… we managed to stabilize the…… as instructed….. we'll be getting ready positions for you to use the scepter……. And the valley of the ki Masters…. More cultists and reborn…… among the saber-wielding shadow troopers…… Dr Thorn has…. New renditions of the various generations and a new prototype….. Dark Troopers….. Lord Kakarot the Second…. Big Boss…… Contingency Plan: Outer Heaven.”

And just like that the communications were cut. “Valley is a Ki Masters?” Vegeta Jr begins to say in a rather confused and even concerned tone. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at Goku Jr who was also just as confused as he was.

“Reborn, Cultists, Shadow Troopers and Dark Troopers?” Goku Jr added and showcased his confusion. But then it clicked when he remembered Haruto.

“It's the remnant!” They both said simultaneously. Of course it was the remnants of all of Kakarot II’s forces and organizations. Haruto was one of the few that managed to escape from them during their encounters with them, 34 years ago. Not many of them got away but they must have gathered all of their resources and the remains of what Kakarot II 's organization was and rebuilt as much as they could. They were surprised that Haruto is still alive. Then again, Kakarot II and the others were very resourceful back in the day.

“we're looking into the information that broken communication provided for us,” Chronoa said. “However, that was all that we could salvage for now, but I figured you should know, considering that during your battle to catch her the second you are survivors of this whole endeavor, this may prove more dangerous than we originally thought. Your objectives however remain the same. Clear the space, correct any anomalies that they may have caused, and find out what you can about their operations, perhaps even in regards to all of their operations that they are seemingly in the works of here based on the communications.”

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redrosesshadowwolf · 10 months ago

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So Vlad was the one arrested.

And it would be even more funny if Danny was so reluctant cause this is after Dan was given a new body. And Dani was out traveling. Then *BAM* a new clone?

Turns out Vlad had one on a backburner plan in his lab. Incase Dani ever needed a new body like Dan did.

So now, while waiting to get in contact with his traveling clone/cousin/daughter/sister. He has to watch this new baby clone. So the family has grown with a 4th ghostly member. Little Elle has had some trouble getting used to her unstable powers as a small child. Danny was juggling watching her, trying to contact Dani, and attempting(failing) to convince Dan to not go villain and break Vlad out.

Dan(Dante at this point) was helping watch Elle between sorting Dalvco and Vladco out now that his supposed legal father was under hero custody. All the while slowly planning to break Vlad out.

After all, Vlad deserved to rot away for at least a little bit after everything he's done.

When Danny gets a call from Val saying she'd gotten in contact will Dani? He was rather relived, the hyperactive halfta child was hard to keep track of. And twice as hard to hide.

Then Val explained she didn't think she was the right one to break the news, so instead she told Dani to keep to places with service or come home soon cause of something important.

Finally that evening, when Dante took over watching Elle for a bit, Danny got to call Dani and break the news.

She was rightfully shocked. Angry, and happy too.

Maybe the little one would develop an obsession like her's?

Then came the anxiety. Too young to parent, all of them were.

What if the child's obsession conflicted with her own? Would that mean she wouldn't be able to be around her?

Danny calmed Dani down, told her there was no use worrying about that for now.

That she should come home soon, meet the kid.

So she did. They had been staying in a safe house outside Amity, hidden in the woods somewhere in some land Vlad owned.

Danny hadn't left the premise in weeks other than a shopping trip or two.

But this allowed Dante to move to and from the location without suspicion.

Elle and Dani got along great. And got into twice as much trouble.

Jazz had stopped by the first week. But had to head back out towards her collage.

Now that Dani was here, Dante didn't have to help watching Elle as much. Giving him more free time, so his weeks of planning finally got put in motion. No Jazz here to tell him no, no Vlad to warn him of a decreased allowance due to bad actions.

Danny too busy with dealing with a toddler and young teen.

The perfect time to strike.

However, he didn't realize that breaking Vlad out wouldn't be the hard part. After all, he hit 'em fast and hard on the way in.

Breaking back out with Vlad in tow was the hard part. Once he tripped alarms people were on there way to stop him.

He knew that, avoided setting as many off as possible. Knocked guard out and hid them, did the sneaky stuff and tried to avoid his normally loud fighting.

But he wasn't perfect, he was part Vlad, and part Danny after all. And both of them were competent in different things, and absolutely useless in others.

They'd evaded the heroes at last. Hid their signatures and transformed back to human form. It all worked out.

Till it didn't. Some other folks, villains noticed them. Followed them.

Then subsequently? Fought them, and the rest of the Halftas.

Danny was not pleased by this turn of events.

How could Dante be this stupid? This reckless? What if Elle had been hurt?Just because Dante was to confident to turn around and double check he wasn't being followed? And yes, most of this yelling is aimed at him.

He already knows Vlad is to confident for such things, like the fool he is.

Dani breaks through the argument. Gets Jazz on the phone, Dante's ears hur by the end.

All the while Danny is packing. Dani had been planing to set off again soon. And they'd decided that Elle was a little to young to join her on her travels for now.

And now Danny had even more enemies on his back because of Dante and Vlad.

So he was taking Elle with him somewhere safer.

He was fine leaving the other halftas to protect themselves, as punishment. And because he trusted them to keep themselves safe even if they would not extend that safety to others.

So Danny left. With bickering fading to the background and enemies on his tail.

A few days later his impromptu mission was regarded as a failure, other than getting Elle to meet the family. That part worked out.

Back at Titans Tower he had to explain his supposed vacation and the toddler he had acquired. He was not looking forward to the long discussion.

He should have brought Vlad or Dante to explain themselves, the dumbasses.

At least Dani was fine being called up for a source to confirm his explanation.

Team effort

Danny is a member of the Teen Titans!

.・゜-: ✧ :-

The team had noticed something off not soon after the raid.

Something about one of Danny's– Magpie's– old Rogues having a lab. Some investigations from Robin and Cyborg soon proved that the man had been working on human experimentation.

Not even a day later and they'd raided the place, putting it under the JL's radar alongside the wayward rogue too.

Beastboy noticed it first, the way Magpie would look around uncertain, less enthusiastic and fidgeting in his seat.

Robin tried to shield him, take the attention away and talk behind closed doors with the other afterwards.

Yeah, it didn't take a genius to figure out something was wrong.

They waved the issue off, maybe it was temporary? Danny never got distracted, it should be short right? They didn't need to worry too much.

Besides Robin was already on it.

The alarms went off however when Danny announced a break, going under for a few weeks, months maybe.

Starfire pestered him with worry, tugging him along in the air. She's speaking her native language, something about healing? They would have noticed if Magpie hid a injury however.

The protests didn't budge the decision, Robin steady when they turned to him for help.

Reassurances came in a rush. If truly needed, Danny would aid them, but he could not stay.

Raven stayed quiet, nothing unusual but surprising. Robin and her were often seen speaking in hushed whispers, it drove the other 3 members crazy at the secrecy.

It took 2 months to finally see what the cause was.

—

Costume dishevelled, mask thrown to the side, Magpie enters the tower by foot. His unannounced appearance had them all unprepared.

Raven and Robin were by his sides first, closely followed by Statfire.

"Hey man," Cyborg greeted, brow knitted in concern. "Weren't you supposed to be on vacation?"

Danny gave a dry laugh at that. "Plans changed, Cy."

"How do vacation plans just change?" Beastboy asks, scratching the side of his head.

"They changed because I wasn't really on vacation."

He avoids their eyes, Starfire dint like that, cradling his head to turn to her. "Why aren't you looking at us? Why lie about vacation?"

"It's not that I wanted to lie, staying ignorant to what was happening was just better," he shrugged with a strained smile.

"I'm assuming your location was compromised?"

A nod.

"Wow wow wow," beastboy interrupts. "What do you mean compromise? You went into hiding??"

Magpie gave a sheepish laugh, which didn't lighten the mood at all.

He tried.

"Where is—?" Raven asks right as another tiny hand clamps on her cape, tugging.

The eyes of every teentitan are drawn to whatever— whoever is behind their missing member.

"Okay so don't freak out—"

"You have a child??!"

"What the hell— JESUS CHRIST!"

"A human child! A baby!"

A sharp whistling from their leader got them to shut up, eyes on Robin now.

"You're frightening her."

True to his words, tuffs of white hair peek out between Raven and Magpie, large green eyes watching.

A tiny girl, barely reaching Danny's waist, stares at them.

"Friend, who is she?"

"This," he leads her out by hand, letting her cling to his side instead now. "Is elle, she..."

A look to raven had her continue. "We found her together in the raid."

Starfire knelt down before Elle, holding her hand out in greeting. "Hello Elle, I am starfire." She tilts her head. "You seem sleepy?"

"It's been a long day— I'll talk with you guys later, okay?"

They watched him leave, returning to his room long untouched.

386 notes · View notes

walviemort · 8 months ago

Text

Expecting a Secret [3/3]

Summary: After the events of 3x19, Killian is at his lowest after being rejected by Emma. When Snow’s labor turns out to be a false alarm, Zelena offers Killian a deal: she’ll leave the Charmings alone…if he gives her the baby she needs for her spell instead. There’s just one hitch: he has to keep it a secret. At least it will only take 10 days, right? a/n: Here’s the final part of my bday fic for @sancocnutclub !!! This is the full fic from the manip I posted last week. Hope you've enjoyed this little adventure! rated T | AO3 | 4.7k | part 1 | part 2

The next day was much of the same. Based on the book and his math, Killian was roughly around 32 weeks along—but found it hard to believe there was still time to go, based on his size. The new clothes he’d bought fit fine; it was just—so big, it seemed. His center of gravity had greatly changed and he felt terribly cumbersome. He didn’t think he was waddling yet, but he wasn’t moving with as much ease as he had just a few days ago.

He was just so keenly aware of all the changes going on within (and without, as he was reminded every time he passed a mirror—which was often) that he was losing in the effort to keep abreast of goings-on in the rest of town. Perhaps that was for the best; perhaps if he pretended he wasn’t here, others would forget as well and he could get through this without attracting any unnecessary attention.

He didn’t even draw the curtains to look outside, lest he risk anyone seeing him. But he didn’t need to open them to tell that it was a gloomy, overcast day; much the same as his mood. He was sore all over; it was impossible to get comfortable; the babe would not stop moving; and even the book he was trying to read couldn’t hold his attention (perhaps the title should have been Withering Heights instead).

Well, he was no stranger to brooding, so he gave himself over to that for the bulk of the day. By evening, he was in a terribly rotten mood that not even Oreos could soothe. He was looking forward to simply taking a bath—and hopefully getting some sleep—when there was a knock at the door. He sighed; he supposed that was inevitable—likely Granny ready to tell him off for all his pacing.

He cracked the door open enough to peek around and bit out a “What?” at his visitor.

“Jeez, I was just trying to invite you to dinner, not get my head taken off,” Emma rebuffed. “I thought this was Hook’s room; not Grumpy’s.”

“Ha,” he replied, unamused. “I’m afraid I’m still not quite fit for company.”

She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Okay, something’s up. You don’t usually avoid us like this.”

“Is a man not permitted his solitude at times?”

“Not when he’s being fucking weird. What aren’t you telling me?”

He nearly spat out the truth, but managed to close his mouth before he slipped. “Why does it matter?” he retorted. “I thought you couldn’t trust me.”

His heart nearly broke at the way her face fell at that; it was a low blow, but half his frustration came from trying to keep his distance. He hated keeping this from her, especially when there was a significant chance it was going to cause more trouble for her later. But he couldn’t risk more harm to her or her family.

“I told you—” she started, in a small voice, but he cut her off.

“Aye, well, I don’t quite believe it yet,” he said. “Don’t worry about me; just focus on the witch. Good night.” He punctuated the statement by firmly closing the door.

He waited for the sound of her footsteps to move away—and really hoped that wasn’t a sniffle he heard through the walls—before he himself stepped back from the door—and brushed away his own tears.

Then he shuffled off to the lavatory and began to draw a bath, though he knew it wouldn’t make him feel any better for being an utter arse to the woman he loved. But, hopefully, it would keep her at bay until he got through this.

He hissed as the babe then sharply connected with his ribs, seeming to chastise him just as much as he was already doing to himself. “I know,” he muttered. “I’m a bloody bastard.”

Two more days. He could do it—right?

—---------------------------------------------

A sudden jolt of pain woke Killian the next morning. He was ready to strike out at Zelena again, but when his eyes flew open, no one was there. And yet, the ache persisted.

His entire midsection, globe that it was, felt like the muscles were clenched—but he didn’t know how to relax them. He took a few deep breaths, which eventually worked, but his stomach still felt sore (or, at least, more sore than it already felt with its fairly rapid expansion). What the bloody hell was that?

The pregnancy book was sitting on the bedside table; he immediately reached for it to skim through. (He hoped Belle wouldn’t mind how dog-eared and beat up it was becoming.) He was at, what, 35 weeks now?

Ah, right—practice contractions. Lest he forget, birth still lay ahead of him. He massaged his rounded belly, saying a silent prayer that the babe within didn’t grow much more; he wasn’t sure entirely how the little one was to emerge, given that he didn’t have the traditional parts for it, but perhaps it would be easier on him if they remained on the small size.

The day continued on much like the previous had, although the practice contractions kept catching him by surprise; he yelped more than a few times at them.

After one, he did hear footsteps rush to, and then pause outside his door. He knew the sound of Emma’s gait by this point, and waited to see if she did anything, but the floorboards creaked as she inevitably walked away.

Rather than frustrated, he was simply mad at himself for how he handled that interaction with her last night—but it had at least worked, so that was one less thing for him to worry about over the next day or so.

The next novel from Belle was much more enjoyable, even if he dozed off in the middle of reading. It felt like he was constantly on the edge of sleep, but the pregnancy manual had implied as much when he was as far into the third trimester as he was.

He was once more on the cusp of a nap when a persistent rapping sounding at the door—much different, and more forceful, than Emma’s usual (surprisingly polite) taps. Hopefully, whoever it was didn’t hear the groan as he shifted to standing; his belly was starting to drift southward as the little one moved closer to resting on his pelvis, and he could tell by the way they were wriggling that they were starting to run out of room.

Which meant it was getting harder to keep his bump from view of the door; he had to prop his left forearm on the edge of the frame to support himself this time. “Dave,” he greeted, surprised, when he cracked it open. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

David, however, seemed less than thrilled to see him. He crossed his arms and leveled a rather fatherly stare at him. “To figuring out what the hell is up with you.”

“I’ve just been feeling under the weather,” he said, thankful that Emma hadn’t inherited her lie-detecting abilities from her father, even it was somewhat true.

“And that’s reason to be a jerk to Emma? Especially when, for the last few weeks, you couldn’t seem to stay away from her?”

“No, it’s not,” he conceded. “I…intend to apologize once I’m feeling better; hopefully in a few days.”

David’s expression didn’t change. “You know, her last couple of magic lessons haven’t gone well.”

That made his heart sink in a different way, and he swore the babe was kicking nervously. “No?”

“No. She hasn’t been able to do much of anything with it. I think we all know what that means.”

Killian swallowed; any chance of defeating the witch—of keeping this child, and the Charming’s, safe—depended on her magic, as much as he hated to put it all on Emma’s shoulders alone.

“Is…is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, knowing full well he’d be useless for a bit more.

“You can pull your head out of your ass!” David hissed.

“Beg your pardon?”

The prince huffed and stared at the floor. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, and she’d probably kill me for it, but the reason she’s been having trouble is you.” He looked back up. “You’re good for her, much as I hate to admit it, and whatever the hell this is you’re doing? She’s worried. So…figure it out.”

Before Killian could come up with any sort of reply—not that he had one ready—another practice contraction hit, and he curled in on himself a bit as he winced.

“Shit—are you okay?” David asked, trying to look around the door.

“‘M fine,” Killian waved off. “Or I will be. Just a—stomach thing.” (A rather large stomach thing that was also pressing on his bladder—again.) “Besides—it’s not like she plans on staying anyways,” he finally threw back.

“Maybe she needs a reason to,” David countered. “Take care of yourself.”

He turned around and left, but Killian remained slightly stunned. Eventually, he did have to shut the door and head to the toilet, but David’s words lingered in his head. “ You’re good for her .”

Bloody hell, he really had been too rash in his agreement with Zelena. He should have known his tendency towards self-flagellation would mess things up one of these days. But there was nothing to be done at this point than to see it through, and just pray he could apologize to Emma fast enough to help get them out of this disaster.

The baby kicked against his side, and his hand flew to the spot without thought. The more time he spent with this little passenger, the more he also was determined to save them. He wasn’t sure he was prepared to be a father, given the low success rate of his past attempts at it, but he’d be damned if he let any harm befall his—and whoever else’s—child. “I don’t know what lays ahead, little one, but I’m going to do my best to keep you safe, too,” he murmured to the bump—and just hoped he hadn’t told yet another lie.

Quite obviously, his mood fell from whatever relative high it had reached that morning to the lowest of lows once more, especially with the continuation of the practice contractions.

He was laying listlessly on the mattress that evening, tracing the babe’s movements with his hand, when he heard a gentle knock. But he wasn’t fit for company and the lights were off, so hopefully they assumed he was asleep.

Outside the door, he easily recognized the sound of Emma sighing. “I know you’re in there, even if you can’t hear me right now,” she said. “Probably passed out, if you’re still really feeling bad. But I…I feel like it’s not just that,” she continued. “I don’t know what I did to make you pull away. Okay, I know some of it, but—something else happened. I just wish I knew. Because I miss you,” she confessed to his closed door. “And I want to be with you again. Or hang out or whatever.” She sighed again and he thought he heard her forehead clunk against the wood. “Well now I really know you’re sleeping, because that would have gotten your attention if you were awake. Probably for the best.” She paused again, then added “good night,” and he heard her move across the hall to her own room.

He suddenly sniffed; bloody hell, these emotional shifts were getting tiring. But he hated— hated —that he was the cause for her emotional distress, and worse, that it might have bigger implications for everyone else, including his child. (Perfect time for a practice contraction to start, eh?)

He’d well and truly fucked this up.

So he gave into his heightened emotions, curled in on himself (which was no small feat—nor very quiet on Granny’s mattress), and cried himself to sleep.

———————————

Rising from the bed the next morning was the most arduous it had been yet—not just because of his babe’s consistent growth, or the practice contraction that had once again woken him, but his belly had also finally “dropped”, as the book said; the little one was well and truly resting on his pelvis, getting ready to make their escape—which could happen at any moment, most likely.

His nerves were constantly on edge, consequently. The baby seemed to echo it—or was just anxious to get out; he wasn’t sure. But honestly, if it meant keeping them safe until the witch was defeated, he’d rather they stay there—safe—even if he was horrendously uncomfortable.

Until another practice contraction hit and the babe shifted atop his lower pelvis. Never mind; he wanted them out.

But for the first time, he realized just how alone he’d be for it. David hadn’t left Snow’s side when they were in the hospital, and he knew it was common for women to have any number of supporters during the process. But if he was still to be keeping it a secret…

However, that was when he heard Emma’s door open across the hall. What if he just…let the door open? Just a crack? It wouldn’t be his fault if she ended up barging in, would it?

He waddled to the door and unlatched the bolt, then reached for the knob—only for it to disappear as soon as his hand neared.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Zelena’s voice called out. He whipped his head and lifted his hook, ready to strike, but she wasn’t in the room. “That’s cheating,” she went on, and finally he saw her: staring out from the standing mirror next to his dresser. “Surely you can sit on this for just a few more hours; you’ve definitely kept other secrets longer.”

“What if something goes wrong?” he countered. “What if the child needs medical attention, eh? You really expect me to do the rest of this unsupervised?”

“Psh, you’ll be fine—I made sure of it when I cast the spell,” she waved off. “Just try not to get too loud, alright?”

“You know there’s a werewolf downstairs, right? They’ll probably hear.” The odds that he got through the day without Granny yelling at him for all the creaking he was causing were already slim.

“Oh, you’re right.” She waved her hand, and the walls briefly glowed green. “Silencing spell. Yell all you want, then; no one will hear it. See you in a few hours, Captain.” And then she disappeared from sight, leaving his own sorry reflection staring back at him, looking tired and morose.

He sighed and shifted his weight from side to side, observing his reflection as he did. Perhaps his belly wasn’t quite as big as it felt, but it did protrude quite a ways in front of him, fully rounding out his stomach and resting heavy on his hips. While bracing his lower back with his left wrist, he lifted his shirt to properly view his belly. There were quite a few stretchmarks along its lower curve, and his belly button even stuck out. The little one moved then, and he could see the whole thing eerily shift as they did.

Perhaps Zelena’s interruption had been good for another reason: did he really want to subject Emma to this view? Even he barely wanted to look at it, even if it held some novelty. But the babe wriggled again and he pulled his shirt back down; he could feel it plenty—he didn’t need to see the alien-like sight in better detail.

There was only one thing left to do at this point. He went to the odd canister by the door (he believed Henry had called it an “umbrella stand”) and retrieved his sword from its scabbard. He flexed his fingers around the grip and rested his brace on the apex of his bump. “Well, little love, wish us luck; I’m going to do my damnedest to keep you safe.” He liked to imagine the subsequent kick was an affirmative response.

(Not for the first time, he also wished he had a way of contacting Smee; the man would have easily been able to slip the child away safely. But he had no idea what digits to use on his room’s telephone. Alas.)

As the day wore on, the practice contractions got more consistent—and stronger. He wasn’t entirely sure what would mark the start of labor, so he continued to alternate resting and pacing as they went on.

More than once, he caught himself on one surface or another as they increased in intensity; this must be it then. He tried to skim over this section in the book, but couldn’t focus long enough for it to be of any use.

So he breathed, and paced, and rested, and breathed, and paced, and rested, with sips of water and restroom breaks scattered in as needed.

By mid-afternoon (he thought, at least, based on the light outside), he was sweating hard, gripping the back of a chair for support. It felt like the child was nearly ready to come out, but there was one thing that hadn’t happened yet.

It came on his next restroom trip, thankfully: his water broke. He didn’t even bother putting his pants back on, and his shirt had long since been hiked up above his belly (there wasn’t much sense in keeping it on but he needed something for whenever the witch showed up).

“Alright, little one; let’s do this,” he murmured, shuffling back to the main room (and his sword). But he hadn’t gotten very far before the next—and strongest yet—contraction stopped him in his tracks, drawing a shout and forcing him to curl in on himself, catching himself on the back of the chair for support.

Which of course was when the door to his room flew open.

Emma stood, staring at him, mouth agape. “Oh…oh my god,” she eventually stammered.

“Swan, I…” he started—but how the hell could he explain it?

Shockingly, he didn’t have to. “They were right; you’re pregnant. Holy shit.”

“They?” he asked, panting.

“Belle,” Emma explained, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. “And David. Just now—Belle mentioned the book you borrowed and my dad told us what happened when he saw you yesterday and—”

He didn’t mean to cut her off, but he yelled out as another contraction commenced. “You shouldn’t be here, love,” he said once his breath came back. “The witch—”

“Who gives a shit about her?” she said angrily, rushing to his side. “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything!”

“I cou—ahhh!” Any attempt at explanation was cut off by the sudden increased intensity of his labor. “Love, just—go,” he tried to argue, but there was no strength behind it.

Not that she would have listened. “Like hell I will. I am not leaving you to do this on your own. Just tell me everything after, okay?” He nodded. “Okay. Let’s have a baby.”

(He desperately hoped it was hers, cruel as that might be.)

She reached for his hand and guided him to sitting on the chair. “How long have you been going?”

“I don’t know,” he had to answer. “It’s all happened so fast.”

“Really? God, mine felt like it took forever.”

“No—all of it,” he clarified in between breaths.

“Wait—all?” she asked, placing her free hand on his belly.

“Aye,” he confirmed. “Just the last 10 days.”

“Shit,” she said, but it could have also been a reaction to the way he suddenly gripped her hand fiercely as yet another contraction came; they were incredibly close together now. “Um, Killian, I—I have to look—” She didn’t finish her sentence, but pointed downward.

He nodded again, though it was undoubtedly a terrifying sight. She took her own deep breath and knelt in front of where he was perched on the edge of the chair; her eyes went wide when she got a look. (This was so far from what he’d hoped her first encounter with his private parts would look like.)

“Oh wow, you’ve gotta push,” she said, in a slightly panicked tone. “I can see the head.”

“I can certainly feel it,” he answered, trying for some levity. But then the next contraction came and he found himself bearing down unwittingly.

“Just like that,” she coached. “I’m right here.”

“You really don’t have to be.” He was trying to give her an out.

“Hey.” Now she was the one squeezing his hand, intensity in her green eyes. “I want to be.”

He managed to crack half a smile before his body forced him to push again—and again, and again. Emma gave enthusiastic encouragements the whole time but he was just in so, so much pain.

“The head is out; you’re almost there!” she exclaimed, unfortunately having to take her hand back. “Just a few more—you can do it.”

He could, and he did—but he wasn’t quiet about it. But finally, the babe was out—and he was spent.

“It’s a girl,” Emma said softly, and the little one began to cry—but he didn’t dare look, and instead focused on catching his breath.

He could see enough to notice Emma pulling the little one to her chest and moving closer to him.

“Oh, Killian,” she cooed. “She’s perfect.”

He was sure she was, but he couldn’t look. He couldn’t see the babe, because if he did, he knew he wouldn’t be able to let her go. And he quickly needed to build up the energy for a fight; his sword was sitting on the table next to him.

“Don’t you want to see her?” Emma asked softly. He just shook his head, feeling a tear crawl down his cheek.

“I can’t,” he murmured.

“Killian, what’s wrong? Do…do you not want to keep her?” There was no doubt that was giving her some unpleasant flashbacks of her own, even if it couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Oh, no—I think he does, and that’s wherein the problem lies.” Zelena had arrived—and was gloating, but unphased by the way he was now staring daggers at her (but still decidedly not looking at his daughter—bloody hell, he had a daughter).

“Go to hell, witch,” he spat, reaching for his blade.

“Someday, yes, but not now. Now, I think I’ll be taking what's mine.”

“She’s yours?” Emma exclaimed, holding the baby tighter to her and casting a questioning glance between Zelena and Killian. (Gods, they hadn’t even had time to cut the umbilical cord yet.)

“Well, not ‘mine’ mine. Biologically speaking. She’s yours, really,” she said, gesturing at both of them.

Did she just say…? “Mine?” Emma asked, surprised.

“Yes, indeed. And what beautiful babies you make,” the witch said, coming closer. “If I can’t have a child of confirmed true love, then one of potential true love will just have to do.”

Summoning energy from somewhere unknown, Killian grabbed his sword and stood, leveling the blade at Zelena’s neck. “Don’t you dare lay a finger on her,” he growled.

“That wasn’t part of the deal, Captain,” she hissed. “Unless you’d care to explain to the in-laws why I still kidnapped their baby?”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Emma interrupted, and faster than either of them were aware—in a flash of white light—Zelena was on the floor—and her broach was in Emma’s hand (the one that wasn’t still holding tight to his—no, their —baby).

“No—no, no, no!” the witch cried, seemingly attempting to summon the pendant back—do anything—with her magic. “Oh, you’ll pay for that,” she roared, pulling the Dark One’s dagger out—but Killian struck out at her arm before she could summon the Crocodile, making her drop it, and then kicked it away.

The witch let out a shriek—but it was cut off by a cloud of grey-ish magic. “Fat chance of doing anything to us from the cells below the hospital,” Emma quipped, then turned to Killian. “Are you okay? What the hell is going on?”

“A long story,” he sighed as he relaxed, adrenaline fading just as fast as it had come, his sword clattering to the floor. “One I will gladly tell you shortly; just—can I—?” He hoped the way he was reaching towards the babe finished the question for him.

“Of course,” she said warmly, putting the little girl in his arms. And he finally got to look at her, and, oh—she really was beautiful. She’d calmed down a little bit, at least since Zelena had been dispatched, and was looking around the room with large eyes; he hoped she’d inherit Emma’s color there, seeing as she had clearly acquired Killian’s own pointed ears.

His body was beginning to tell him there were some things that hadn’t yet been dealt with; he held the little lass as Emma helped him through that. “You wanna tell me just what all this was now?” she asked, firmly but gently, once things were cleaned up.

“I was a bloody idiot,” he summarized, but told her everything else that had happened since the night at the docks. “Swan, I cannot apologize enough for being such a fool. But…I also don’t fully regret it.”

“I get it,” she said, running a finger over their now-sleeping daughter’s head. “And I’m sorry for making you feel like you had nothing else. But…I guess I can’t complain about the product either.”

For a long moment, they just stood there—the three of them, in awe over their new little blessing. Aside from the incredible ache he felt, it was near perfect—and he was finally able to breathe for another reason (and not just because the precious little toes in his cradle were no longer digging into his lungs).

“Congratulations, love,” he said.

“For what? You just did all the hard work.”

“You defeated the witch. You saved this one, your new sibling, all of us,” he explained. “That’s something to be equally proud of, if not moreso.”

She blushed. “Yeah, but in the moment, all I could think of was saving her—and you.”

“Me?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, you. Did you not hear what Zelena said?”

He had, but he didn’t dare acknowledge it. So he just nodded.

“My magic has never been stronger than it was just now—especially not earlier this week.”

“Aye, your father said as much.”

“You know why?”

He was starting to get the picture, but wanted her to say it.

She chose not to use words, but actions, and leaned toward his face.

“Hold on—the curse,” he said, regrettably pulling slightly away.

“It should have gone away with her magic,” Emma said, “and I don’t care anyways.” Then she insistently pressed her lips against his and, bloody hell, he couldn’t remember a sweeter, more meaningful kiss.

Though he would have preferred it not be cut off by a sudden interruption from the doorway. David stood at the now-open threshold, coughing (and clearly averting his gaze). “Granny said she heard some weird stuff and made me come check it out. I think I saw too much, though.”

Emma laughed; Killian tried, but it hurt his core. “Come on; I never thought I’d say this, but we need to get you back into some pants and get you two to the hospital.”

He passed the baby to her while he shuffled around to get dressed, and she caught up with her father, who thankfully drove them both to Storybrooke General.

Dr. Whale was shocked by the turn of events and insisted on keeping both Killian and his daughter overnight for observation; Emma stayed by their side the whole time. (And used her magic to accelerate his healing a bit…well, a lot, thankfully, though he wasn’t sure his midsection would ever be as firm as it once was.)

There was still a lot to deal with—emotionally, obviously, and they had to decide just what to do with Zelena; not to mention Snow giving birth still lay ahead.

But as he walked out of the hospital the next morning—with Emma in one arm and tiny little Alice Margaret Jones, wearing her little sailboat onesie, in the other—he knew it would all work out; maybe, just maybe, this could be their happy ending.

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thanks for reading!!! tags: @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @killian-whump @teamhook @mathiaskejseren @88infinity88

#cs ff #killian mpreg #killian jones ff #expecting a secret #my ff

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rosaliesea · 2 years ago

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That, along with having a built in sounding board for all of the shit ideas and an automatic plus one to all of the parties and weddings and events where you're bound to not know a soul — that, or you wish you didn't know any of 'em. Speaking of frozen drinks, know what ended up in my lap the other day? Fuckin' beer slushies. And not just your regular ol' beer turned into a slushie a la one of those As Seen on TV product commercials, but a whole slew of different recipes. Beergarita slushies, cherry beer slushies, even an IPA slushie where they throw in whole ass pineapple slices. I've never been thrown for such a loop in my life; not only that, but I've got a whole freezer of samples from the vendor, and you out here talking of a nice day out in the sun with a cold one's really got me thinking you should come over, help me taste test and figure out if I ought to make them a summer specialty at the Garden. I think you're allowed to miss your extra hour of sleep and not want to give it up, solely because you've got your little one as an alarm clock that doesn't acknowledge any time changes. I've got Wayne, but he's becoming an old man. Even after installing that dog door, he's hardly ever up and moving before sunrise. We're lazy daisies at the Seaford residence. I'm telling 'ya, buy that baby extra big clothes so she can just grow into them. She'd be adorable in a sweater that drags on the ground behind her. Six weeks might as well be an eternity. At least we're not in Alaska where we'd just be in the dark all the time. Could you imagine? I wouldn't know up from down. I know, I know, the workaholic's really showing. March is busy for us, with all of the bar crawls for St. Patrick's, but I'm able to slow my roll just the slightest little bit until summer season starts. I know I'll love seeing her, and her pretty mama. I feel like I am constantly out of the loop on all things Cordelia, mostly because every time I blink I see Excel on the backs of my eyelids, but it's an absolute shame. Some best friend I am. How are things? How's the boy?

Isn't that the point of a best friend? Not having to explain yourself and the other one just getting it because I'm pretty sure that's what it means. If that's the case we've got it down pat, babe. Nothing is better than getting out and soaking in the sun, laying out in bathing suits by the water, frozen drinks in hand. It's something I'm already dreaming about and counting down till. See I don't know if I'm quite there, willing to part with a whole extra hour of sleep, I love my sleep -- as you know. I can be pretty grumpy when I lose sleep or my sleep is interrupted by anyone but my daughter, and even then she has like a 50/50 chance of me grumbling. I'm that person that selfishly wants both, extra sunshine but keep my sleep, which I get it doesn't work that way! It probably is a commercial trap, but ha to them, I already have so many sweaters they can't get me into the trap unless it's for Rosalyn because she's growing out of things like a weed all the damn time. Which they have me there, but that's kind of just what kids do, not because the groundhog is claiming six more weeks of winter. Plus this is Maine, we're getting six more weeks regardless of what the damn thing says or doesn't say. Six weeks is actually a light sentence if anything! She was more than spoiled between myself and others. Don't worry whenever you have time we'll get together and you know she'll love seeing you. A whole day of blanket hibernation, movies, girl talk, maybe a little wine when she eventually takes a nap? Has to be full girl day after all! You need to take a break, babes, life is too short to be working your life away even if I know you love your job.

#dash ⦂ cordelia.

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jkstompers · 4 years ago

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passing notes | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: a year of crushing and jungkook’s finally asked you out on a proper date.

genre: classmates to lovers??!, established friendship, they go on a date <3, jk is so stressed out, !fancy restaurant warning!, jk is A GENTLEMAN!! but wbk, oc is a nerd but is BOLD AF!!

warnings: mature!! (18+!!), SMUT,...they make out, LOTS of built up tension is let out tonite!, fingering, praise kink, handjob, backseat action, semi-public sex?? very strong language, jk overuses the nickname ‘baby’

word count: 9k

author’s note: pt. 3 of seatmate!jk. WE’VE GOT SOME FILTH TODAY PPL!!!!!!! this is my first time releasing a piece of writing that has smut in it so pls!! let me know what u think!!! i’m open to criticism but i cry easily so… pls pls be nice (Ｔ▽Ｔ) LMAO!! i also completely made up the program for ocean scientists that oc talks about LMAO i just needed her to ramble for a bit hahahah

additional note: also pls imagine jungkook looking like this in class and then wearing this for their date. also if ur curious, this is what i imagined oc’s dress to look like :)

okay enjoy!! thank u ( ˘ ³˘)

it was the end of the semester and of course, the only time jungkook would be running late to class was when he was finally going to ask you out on a date. so far, everything seems to be going against the idea. his alarm didn’t go off on time, the shower took way too long to warm up, and his car was low on gas. now he’s speed walking, almost running, to lecture to make sure that his seat next to you isn’t taken.

he wants to make sure this goes perfectly. he spent the past two weeks stressing over the plans. asking for recommendations for nice restaurants in the city in almost every group chat he was in. his friend (the one with parents as ceo’s, eunwoo), helped him and got him a reservation at this one five star restaurant that jungkook’s never been to. eunwoo told him that it was the prettiest place he’s ever been to, said it would be perfect for a first date.

jungkook specifically remembers you telling him that you’ve never gone on an actual dinner date. ice cream dates, movie theater dates, and amusement park dates were what you were used to. there was nothing wrong with that, it’s just that you’ve never experienced a candlelit dinner at a restaurant, that’s it. jungkook just wanted to be the first one to experience it with you.

so when his morning starts off this shitty, he wonders if his plans are falling apart. he tries to keep a good, positive mindset, but he’s already so nervous and the universe seems to be telling him: don’t do it, she’ll reject you, you’re gonna look stupid in front of her.

meanwhile, you’re early this lecture. it was the last class of the semester and you were hoping that you could get a nice conversation with jungkook in before it started. the two of you have gotten a lot closer since you last hung out. the chain of events starting with you apologizing for being so embarrassing,

[12:44 pm] you: jungkook!!! oh my god i am so sorry for last night 😭

[12:45 pm] you: i don’t take alcohol very well 😖

[12:50 pm] jungkook: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

[12:50 pm] jungkook: no need to apologize! are u feeling sick? hungover?

[12:52 pm] you: omg no not really

[12:52 pm] you: ur a great drinking buddy, i owe u one 🥺

[12:53 pm] jungkook: it’s alright cutie

[12:54 pm] jungkook: just happy ur feeling okay :)

[12:56 pm] you: let me make it up to u 😭 i’ll buy us lunch one of these days?

[12:57 pm] jungkook: ah no can do cutie

[12:57 pm] jungkook: have to buy u dinner first

the thought of the conversation makes you smile. that one conversation starting the domino effect of the two of you talking almost everyday for the past two weeks. you couldn’t help but expect jungkook to at least be here, but if he didn’t wanna come, then he didn’t have to.

you sat in your seat, patiently waiting for the one next to you to be filled by him. the hall was starting to fill now and class was about to start. you look around one last time to see that jungkook is still nowhere to be seen, and that a familiar brown-haired guy was beginning to walk up to you.

“hello, ___! is this seat taken?” taehyung smiles brightly, you look down at the seat next to you. your bag saving the spot for jungkook. maybe he skipped this lecture, since it was practically for nothing anyway, you’ve already taken the final and there was no other material to learn, it was more so to wrap things up and see if anyone still needed to understand something.

your brain comes to a conclusion. you remove your bag and say, “no, go ahead,” to taehyung with a small smile on your face, one that hides the disappointment riddling your mind.

it’s about five minutes after the professor starts talking when jungkook finally walks in. he looks up to try and find you as he walks up the steps of the auditorium. his eyes land on you and taehyung, chatting amongst yourselves. he can’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy, that’s his seat. even though there were no assigned seats, the place next to you was always his, that’s just how it was, and seeing someone else sitting there, especially taehyung, makes jungkook’s green monster pop out.

you feel a presence step behind you while you were talking to taehyung, and before you know it, jungkook is sitting in the seat next to taehyung. “oh! good morning, jungkook!” you’re smiling to him. he doesn’t grant you one of his regular vocal responses, rather he gives you a tight-lipped grin before he leans back into his chair and focuses on whatever the professor was saying.

maybe he was jealous. witnessing you and taehyung having a wonderful conversation, one that makes you smile and laugh like he does. you didn’t even notice him when he came up the stairs, only greeting him when he sat down. no, he was definitely jealous.

you’re stealing glances his way, pretending to be interested in whatever taehyung is talking about. he’s wearing the most boyfriend-est outfit in the world. a white long sleeve with grey sweatpants, his long hair tied up in a ponytail. you’re unconsciously biting your lip as you stare at him, he’s just so cool. he’s not even doing much other than looking straight forward. but this angle lets you see his sharp jawline and his side profile perfectly.

you felt bad, one hundred percent. you should have told taehyung that the seat was taken, because now he was talking your ear off and you didn’t mind it, but you wanted someone else to be talking your ear off and it was the guy sitting next to him.

when taehyung changes his focus to your professor talking about a summer he had in paris. you steal another glance at jungkook. you catch him staring at you, your eyes meet. he doesn’t keep the connection, cutting it off by moving his head and looking straight ahead. his jaw clenches, arms coming over and across his chest. he seems angry, you pick up on the energy now. an idea pops in your head to try and make him feel better. reaching into your bag to find one of your index cards, writing a message on it.

feeling okay?

you scoot your chair back a bit, pretending to stretch as you tap jungkook’s shoulder. he turns his head to you, eyebrows raised. you hand him the paper. he stares at first, eyes flickering between you and the paper. reluctantly, he takes it, unfolding his crossed arms to receive the note. you scoot back into your seat and lean into the table, lowering your chin onto the desk.

jungkook tries to hide his smile as he reads your little note. how could he ever stay mad at you? it wasn’t your fault he was late. so he replies, his black ink has a stark contrast against your green highlighter. he can already feel his bad mood brightening.

yeah, didn’t save me a seat? :(

this time he folds the note, handing it to taehyung and telling him to pass it to you. “really? you’re passing notes? we’re in college, jeon.” taehyung snickers as he slides the paper towards you.

you let a small laugh, reading the note. taehyung’s scolding continues as you write your response on the index card. you changed your green highlighter out with a blue pen.

i came super early :( waited 20 mins for u </3 but i didn’t think u were coming so i let taehyung sit here

you send it back and watch jungkook’s somewhat straight face contort into a smile. there it is, the smile that you know and love.

jungkook on the other hand could cry. you came early. you waited for him. god, had he royally fucked this up. he makes his mind up now.

i’m sorry :( let me make it up to u? can i take you out on a date tonight?

check: ◯ yes ◯ no

jungkook keeps the paper for a good minute, reading the note over and over again, thinking about how childish this way of asking is. but at the same time, jungkook knows that if he talks to you about it after class, he’ll gloss over the words and never ask you. letting the reservation and plans he made weeks ago render themselves useless. it was now or never.

so he fully sends it, tapping your shoulder and giving it to you directly. you open the note and scan the words, sending him the sweetest look he’s ever received in his life. he thinks that would be a yes. he hopes. you write something onto the card and pass it back to him, your hand grazing his for a second.

⚫ yes :) ♡ ◯ no

the rest of the class passes pretty quickly. not that you were paying any attention. jungkook had emailed you a link to a game that the two of you could play, a weird version of snakes. jungkook kept cheating, you swore it, but in all honesty, you knew you couldn’t compete when it came to jungkook and his computer games. a clap from the professor breaks your attention from your screen, “alright, that was the last class of anatomy 101!” he then goes on a two minute long speech thanking the entire class for their great work this past year. he ends his ment with, “good luck and make good decisions! have a fun summer!”

you take your time packing your things, a little too long for someone that just has a laptop to put into their bag. taehyung says goodbye to the both of you and leaves first, the seat in between you both empty. now it was just the two of you. a small blush creeps onto your cheeks. you were well past your high school crush phase, but jungkook makes you feel so shy again.

you try to hide it by speaking first, “so, a date?”

he sends you that award winning smile that makes you swoon. “yeah, did you change your mind?”

you shake your head. “is it casual? fancy? want me to wear a dress again?” you tease, finally pushing your computer into your bag and standing.

jungkook gulps. you looked so pretty that night in a dress. “fancy,” he answers, “you can wear a dress if you want, pantsuits are cool too— whatever you want.” he finishes packing as well, standing next to you as you both begin to walk down the stairs.

“okay then,” you smile. “what time should i be ready?”

“i’ll come and pick you up at seven, is that okay?” he replies, hand in his pockets. you both make your way out of the room and start to move towards the parking lot.

“sounds good,” you nod, approaching your car. jungkook walks you to your door, his eyes focused on your sweet smile and your eyes. if jungkook didn’t know any better, he would have thought you were leaning closer towards him. a small laugh leaves your throat. “see you later, kookie.”

he sends you a smile, the nickname tugging at his heartstrings. the realization hits him after you’ve already driven away and he’s sitting in the driver seat of his car. an embarrassing blush covers his face, he takes a deep breath and laughs to himself. finally. a year of crushing and he’s finally asked you on a proper date.

jungkook is quite frankly, freaking the fuck out. he isn’t sure what to wear and his hair isn’t working with him. the long strands seemingly out to make his life a living hell when he tries to style it. one strand always looks out of place, or the way that it parts doesn’t sit right. he’s pacing his bathroom, debating if he should just shower again and take all the stupid fucking product out of his hair.

he gives in after ten minutes of deliberation. a quick shower removing all the wax and gel from his hair. the ends of his hair dripping when he goes to check his phone, the time reading: 6:45. he was gonna be late to pick you up. now he’s full on panicking. he has no other choice then to skip the hair product all together and just let his hair dry and part on it’s own. he slides on his all black fancy outfit he had planned out just in case the first one didn’t work out. he steps out of his apartment after grabbing his car keys, wallet, and the flowers he bought earlier in the day for you.

a friend of his works in a flower shop. jungkook remembers you saying that you like all flowers and that you couldn’t choose if you had to. so his friend asked what you were like, trying to figure out a way to style the bouquet without knowing your favorites. jungkook said the general things; you’re sweet like an apple, probably sweeter, like candy. you’re so pretty, it’s blessing that he’s able to lay his eyes upon you. you’re smart, too smart for him to flirt stupidly like he always does, ‘cause you outsmart him and flirt with him back in a wittier way. you’re— that was enough information, his friend told him he was babbling again. jungkook only had to wait ten minutes for his friend to finish fixing up a beautiful bouquet for you.

the bouquet is placed on the passenger seat as he starts his car, texting you when he realizes it’s almost five minutes until 7.

[6:54 pm] jungkook: fuck

[6:54 pm] jungkook: i’m gonna be a little late

[6:55 pm] jungkook: i swear i’m not standing u up

[6:55 pm] jungkook: ok i’m putting my phone down to drive to u now, sorry cutie!!

[6:57 pm] you: ah okay!

[6:57 pm] you: i was getting a little worried haha

[6:58 pm] you: see u in a bit <3

jungkook drives safely, but efficiently to your apartment. the drive only taking about five minutes because the stop lights were gracing him with green lights his entire way to you. he parks right in front, grabbing the flowers and hopping out of the car. when he knocks on your door, he starts to feel his nerves work against him. the adrenaline from rushing here gave him enough energy to hype himself up, but now as he’s standing here at your door, waiting for you to answer, his throat starts to dry and his hands start to sweat.

the metal door slides open, revealing you. in your silk dress, draping over your body in the most flattering way. the neckline deliciously hangs down to reveal your cleavage ever so slightly and the slit on the dress, displaying your thigh teasingly. jungkook is speechless at his first glance at you. his eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open, catching himself drooling once you step out from your apartment.

“h— hi, you look— wow,” he stumbles over his words, taking a step back to admire you once again. “you’re fucking stunning.”

you brush your hair back behind your ear, your hand covering the blush covering your cheeks. “thank you, you look very handsome, jungkook.” you reach out and play with his black tie. he looks down when you do, remembering that he was holding a bouquet of flowers for you.

he holds them out, “these are for you.” like a kid giving his crush a dandelion he picked from the grass.

“these are gorgeous, jungkook! thank you.” you look up to him with your signature sweet eyes, the ones that never fail to make him melt. “just give me one sec, i’ll put these down and then we can go?” you ask, holding onto the bouquet and waiting for him to respond. a quick nod is all you need to open your door and place them in the fridge. you come out a few seconds later, locking your door and standing by jungkook again.

“that was fast,” he comments. he holds his arm out for you to hold, which you gratefully take.

“i just put them in the fridge, my grandma showed me the trick, it helps them live a little longer,” you explain. the two of you walking out to his parked car. he never lets your hand touch the handle, always opening the door for you.

“when they die, i’ll just buy you new ones.” closing the door for you and making his way to the drivers seat.

you scrunch your nose. when he comes back and joins you in the car, you voice your worry. “it’s kind of a waste, don’t you think?”

he shakes his head, “if it’s for you, nothing’s a waste.”

jungkook was a professional with his words. always rendering you speechless.

with that he starts the car and begins driving into the busier part of seoul. he makes his way into the restaurants parking garage, the building looks to be about five stories. the architecture itself looks expensive, you wonder where jungkook is taking you tonight. he parks the car, turning off the engine, and moving to open the door for you. he takes your hand and you hold onto your dress, fixing it once you get out of the car. god, you’re so pretty. he was so nervous.

“ready, my lady?” he smiles, his arm out for you to hold.

it makes you laugh, a snort almost. “i’ve never seen you so proper, mr. jeon.”

“only for you,” he winks. your heels click against the concrete floor as he leads the two of you into the building. the high ceilings and multiple chandeliers are what greet you first, the brightness of the place giving the sun something to rival. jungkook brings you over to the waiting area, telling you to wait for a minute as he checks you guys in.

this was crazy to say the least. the last time you went on a date, it was to the movie theaters. you’ve never been in a place like this; a doorman greeting every guest as they walk in, checking in to eat, multi-story, etc. the more you look around, the cooler it is. “let’s go?” jungkook’s voice makes you turn your head. you stand, taking his hand.

the two of you follow a man wearing a black and white suit, with a long tail jacket. he brings you to the elevators, holding the doors open for you both. you step in and he presses the fifth button, which was the top floor. you squeeze jungkook’s hand. he repeats the action, looking to you and silently asking if you were okay with the look in his eyes and the raise of his eyebrows. you nod, a smile on your face.

with that the elevator doors open, the metal doors sliding apart to reveal a private terrace. only a couple tables on the entire floor. a few people sitting down and enjoying their dinners. beautiful greenery surrounding the perimeter, the night sky only making it prettier. your mouth is left agape, you’re stuck in the elevator, speechless. jungkook gently tugs you forward, following the suit man to the table.

jungkook pulls your chair out for you. you could cry at the chivalry. you sit and he pushes the chair in, jungkook follows soon, sitting in the chair across from you. the man hands the two of you the menu and moves away from the table, standing back near to the elevator, waiting until you are both ready to order.

“this is fucking crazy,” you whisper-shout. the terrace was lit by these bright fairy lights that were hidden in the plants and were above the tables as well. it looked like little fairies and fire flies were in the air, roaming around.

“i know right!” jungkook looked as surprised as you were. “i asked my friends for some help and holy shit!”

“they know you’re on a date with me right now?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

to this he furrows his eyebrows, “of course they do, i talk about you all the time—”but he stops himself from exposing himself any further. you can’t help but giggle. “i mean, i asked them to help me make this special, and here we are.”

you swoon. he’s so sweet for planning all of this out and wanting to make you feel special. the two of you look through the menu, jungkook warns you not to look at the prices, telling you to get whatever you want because the price doesn’t matter. but of course, your eyes stray to the numbers, the meals costing a pretty penny for a simple spaghetti plate, the cheapest thing on there. you were craving pasta anyway, you didn’t mind. the two of you order and wait for the food to arrive.

the city of seoul was just below you, not too high but high enough to turn people into smaller figures of themselves. the night lights look gorgeous from up here. the warm summer night only complimenting the gorgeous atmosphere.

“the view is so pretty,” you gaze out into the city. the pretty colors from all the lights of the different stores and restaurants complementing each other so beautifully.

jungkook was in awe, he knows that the city below you is gorgeous, but he can’t seem to get his eyes off of you. your chin resting in the palm of your hand as your eyes search through the streets. “yeah…” he agrees, “very beautiful.” he smiles, only looking at you.

the food comes and you both dig in. the two of you enjoy some conversation with each other as you eat. the topic of growing up comes up, both of you explaining the occupations you wanted, and you said something that sparked curiosity in jungkook. “your childhood dream was to live in california?” he smiles, chewing on his steak. most of the time kids dream about going to the moon or finding atlantis, but you wanted to go to america?

you nod, “sounds funny right? when i was a teen, i watched a lot of 90210.”

“is that all though? you only wanted to go because of a tv show?” he asks. there’s something you’re hiding, and jungkook can see it in the way that you hide your smile.

at first, you hesitate, but you open your mouth to speak, “well— there is— no, it’s embarrassing.” you shake your head, changing your mind and reverting your eyes down. staring at the plate of pasta in front of you. guys you talked to didn’t wanna hear about it, they thought what you were into was boring, embarrassing almost. a part of you feared that jungkook would feel the same.

you feel his hand on your chin, tilting your head up. “i wanna hear about it.” his face telling you the truth, the sincerity in his eyes as he patiently waits for you to explain.

“there’s this science program in california, they explore new ideas for researching the ocean, like trying to see what lurks in the deep blue, helping fix the rising oceans, everything-- oh my god, and they like go on field trips to different countries to see the coastlines and historical sites—” you cut yourself off when you realize that you’re talking at the speed of light. “i’m rambling.” you were terrified to see his reaction.

but when your eyes finally meet jungkook’s, they’re full of light. and his smile is so big. “dude, that’s so dope!” he grins, “i didn’t know you were so into the ocean!”

it was the bare minimum, being nice, but that was hard to find when it came to the majority of the male species. obviously, jungkook is above average, he only proves that the more time you spend with him.

“oh, i love it! my parents would bring me to the beach and i would cry every time we would have to leave, aquariums too, and the fish section in the pet stores.” you gush, leaning into the table to tell jungkook more. he leans into his hand, resting his cheek against his fist as he listens to you spill your knowledge and love.

he notes that the next date should be at the beach or an aquarium. it was a great time for him to learn this, especially since it was summer. the weather in favor of the cold ocean waves. jungkook swears he can listen to you talk until the end of time. your sweet voice can be the narration to his life, he’d never get sick of it.

the food on both of your plates had been cleared, the conversation sizzling into a comfortable silence before the man came back to give you the bill. jungkook doesn’t let you see it, instead just sticking his card in the black folder thing, and giving it back to the fancy suit man. it wasn’t long before he came back, handing jungkook back his card and giving the both of you a lollipop with gold flakes encased inside.

you gasp at the piece of candy, now that was ridiculous. you weren’t one to reject a lollipop though, gratefully taking the candy and popping it into your mouth. jungkook does the same. it tastes of blueberry. at this point he stands up, moving in front of you and holding his hand out to you. “let’s look around? i heard they have a cool museum on the second floor.”

you take his hand, “i love museums!” the two of you make your way to the elevator, the man (he never told you his name) kept the door open for you both. he presses the second floor button when jungkook asks him for the museum. the elevator landing on the second floor, the doors slide open to show a completely empty art hall. this place shocking you every chance it gets. you didn’t think it could get better, but it did.

when the two of you exit the elevator, the man leaves you to it, taking the elevator down and leaving you alone. your eyes scan the place, huge paintings on the walls, small paintings in collages, some sculptures on the floor, it felt like a pop-up museum. you both make your way down the enormous hallway, both sides of the room’s wall displaying works of art. you stop at one specific painting, the familiar work has you spewing random facts. “these are the lovers! i had to analyze this once,” you speak. the art displaying a couple kissing, both of their heads covered by a white sheet. “the real one is in australia, i think.” you laugh, tapping the lollipop against your lips.

jungkook listens intently, but he doesn’t pay attention to the painting on the wall. everytime he does, his eyes always revert to you. the art doesn’t stand a chance against you in his book. you, yourself, were a piece of art, one that was rare in this world, one of a kind.

he can’t seem to resist. taking your hand and raising it over your head, the way that they do in ballroom dancing. if a twirl was what he wanted, then so he got it. “beautiful,” he compliments, pulling you in close for a hug. the two of you swaying in the middle of the hall of this stupidly expensive restaurant.

you look up to him, making full eye contact as the two of you lean on one foot to the other. probably looking like a lovesick couple, getting lost in the moment. which, you were. your eyes flicker from his eyes down to his lips, he seems to do the same thing. his hand moves to caress your face, the swaying ceased. now the two of you are centimeters apart, noses brushing against each other. if jungkook doesn’t kiss you now, he thinks he’ll combust. so when he feels you pushing forward, he does the same, meeting you in the middle. your lips connect. the kiss almost identical to the painting in front of you.

jungkook swears he felt himself levitating. your lips are sweet, the blueberry flavor of the lollipop lingering on them. he’s had his fair share of kisses in his life. makeouts, pecks, cheek kisses, all types of kisses. but something about this one tells him that he’s in for it. he’ll never be able to get enough now that he’s gotten a taste.

neither of you want to take it too far; swallowing each other's faces in a distinguished, five star restaurant’s museum didn’t seem very proper. so the two of you make your way out of the building, thanking everyone at the front desk, especially the man that helped you out today, and walking into the parking garage where jungkook’s car was.

when you get to his car, he moves to open the passenger door for you but you stop him with a hand on his arm. you reach to open the back door handle and his eyes almost bulge out. everyone knows what happens in the backseat, and jungkook did not prepare himself for something like this.

you look up at him with the most innocent eyes, but there’s something devious hidden in your smile when you ask, “do you wanna talk for a bit longer? in the backseat? it’s more comfortable than sitting in the front.”

jungkook never took you for someone this bold. it’s either you didn’t know the meaning of the backseat (which was totally fine) or you knew very well, and had plans to devour jungkook (which was also totally fine).

he chickens out, his hands starting to sweat. “do you want to just go for a little walk or something?” it’s not like jungkook didn’t want anything to happen, it’s that he did. if he starts, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever recover from it. he walks a tightrope around you when it comes to his self control. one wrong move, and he’s terrified that he’ll fuck everything up.

“oh, it’s just my feet kinda hurt from these heels.” you pout, lifting you foot up to show him the almost stiletto heel.

his eyes widen. why didn’t he think of that? “oh— oh shit, i didn’t even— yeah, let’s sit.” he tugs on the door, letting you slide into the back seat. he follows, leaving a good amount of space between you both to make sure that there was nothing too suspicious going on. you hope your bold moves hide your nervousness, despite your confidence, jungkook’s unsure looks make you want to curl up into a ball. did he not want this?

the air was different now. in the restaurant the two of you had been so carefree, slow dancing in the museum, and landing a sweet kiss on each other’s lips. but now, an uncomfortable silence tears at the two of you. your hesitance makes you speak, trying to see if a conversation would ease the tension in the air. “i had a lot of fun tonight, kookie, thank you.”

it seems to comfort jungkook, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. with a small smile on his face he replies, “me too, i was really nervous you wouldn’t like the food.”

“oh it was good! i’ll eat anything really, it’s just—“

“you didn’t like the place? was it too much—“

“no, jungkook, oh my god— i loved it, it was just really expensive, i still feel really bad about you paying for all of it,” you look to him seriously. “let me give you at least my half?”

he shakes his head, “i asked you out on this date, it means i pay, don’t worry about the price.”

you roll your eyes playfully, “big spender huh?”

a pretty laugh escapes his lips. “hard worker too.”

to this you smile, you stare at his impossibly-perfect face, noticing a stray eyelash on his cheek. you see a chance to strike and you take it immediately. you lean forward to swipe it off. jungkook almost leans into your touch. he’s so terrified that he’ll embarrass himself right now, so he’s been holding back tremendously. but the way you pick the eyelash off and place it on your thumb with a smile on your face, it eases most of the tension in his chest.

“make a wish!” you hold your thumb up to his lips. his eyes cross to look at the piece of hair on your finger, but nevertheless he obliged. shutting his eyes tight, making a wish, and blowing the eyelash off of your thumb.

you let out a small cheer before you ask him, “what’d you wish for?”

“if i told you then my wish wouldn’t come true, right?” he boops your nose. suddenly, jungkook doesn’t feel so nervous. his nerves calming at the feeling of your soft hands against his face. you make him so nervous, but at the same time you make him so comfortable and make him want to be himself. it seems as though the two of you were staring at each other for a while. jungkook was thinking about how much he likes you, the same ideas run through your mind. the thoughts make you wish for something more.

“can i kiss you again, kookie?”

he stares at you, weighing his options. if he kisses you now, then he has to strategically only give you a few kisses, he absolutely cannot make out with you, or else, jungkook will succumb to his desires.

but he takes a little too long to respond. the both of you overthinking the fuck out of the situation. it makes you draw back. “it’s okay if you don’t want—“

“no, no, please, kiss me,” he brings you back, moving closer to you. licking his lips in anticipation as you slowly push forward, closing the gap between you both. the kiss is so sweet, like the one in the museum. jungkook can still taste the blueberry lingering on your lips. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of kissing you.

you pull away first. your eyes scanning his face to see any expression of regret. there’s none. his hand moves to the side of your face, caressing your face and bringing you to him once again to meet your lips. he can’t get enough. “tell me what you wished for, please,” you speak against his lips.

he smiles into the kiss. he wasn’t going to tell you, but since you were asking so nicely, he gives you a kiss on the cheek when he answers, “i wished for a second date.”

“oh, didn’t you know?” you kiss both of his cheeks before speaking again, “i grant wishes,” with wink.

“fuck, you’re so cute,” he thinks out loud, it makes you blush. pink cheeks out for show and jungkook thinks you look even cuter. he dives in for one more kiss, telling himself this will be the last one, but when you make sweet noises against his lips, it has him wanting more. hands moving down to your waist, pulling you in and letting you climb onto his lap. he pulls away first, trying to get a hold of himself. “i uh— actually, didn’t plan for this to happen,“ he mumbles against your skin, tripping over his words.

you look down, arms wrapped around his neck. “hm? what did you plan?”

“we were supposed to kiss on the next date i take you on and i didn’t think— we’re just ahead of schedule, that’s all.” jungkook tries to explain that he didn’t want to rush it, god no. he wanted to take his time, make sure that you didn’t feel pressured to do anything. but now, it seems like you’re taking the wheel and jungkook doesn’t mind it one bit.

“oh so you had like a real plan? like times and everything?” the thought of it makes you laugh, and the way that jungkook flushes makes you want to pinch his cheeks.

he pouts when you giggle, “don’t laugh, i just really, really wanted to do it right, you’re just so amazing and i didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

you smile at his concern. the fact that you have the uni heartthrob planning dates in his head down to the details and wanting to be sure he does it right makes your head spin. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the way that your heart is beating three times the normal rate when you go to kiss him again. the only sounds in the car are labored breaths and your lips smacking together. it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into him. his growing bulge rubbing against your soaking core. a groan leaving him when you grind particularly harder, his hands moving to your ass to grip it. you melt in his arms, small whimpers leaving your throat as jungkook drinks them up

you pull away from his lips, giving his cheeks attention then leaving a trail of kisses as you make your way to his ear. one final kiss is planted below his earlobe before you whisper, “am i ruining your plans, kookie?”

jungkook tries his best to conceal his groan, tries his best to ignore his incredibly hard dick in his jeans, but you’re so pretty and you’re on top of him, kissing him. it feels like a dream to jungkook. it is quite literally a dream come true.

he was already playing with fire, your body a flame in the cold, he moves closer and closer until he burns. “fuck plans,” he breathes. a hand comes back to caress your face once again. filthy thoughts flooding his brain. he wonders what being in between your legs is like, what you sound like when you cum. he wants to make you cry and beg for his cock. but he holds himself back, knowing that you’ll have time to try everything out, if you wanted of course. he leans the both of you forward, his large hands splayed on your back to secure you on his lap. your lips find each other once more. “can i touch you?” he asks so sweetly, a hidden poison weaving through that you can slightly hear through the deep rumble of his voice.

you’ve never wanted anything more. “please,” you nod. your lips chasing his when he pulls further away.

jungkook smiles at the action. “lay on my lap, baby.” he instructs, tapping your thigh. the nickname rolling off his tongue, his voice seemingly dropping an entire octave. you raise your leg and move it over to sit on his lap, sideways. your back against the car door and his right hand rubbing your thighs ever so gently.

“like this?” you ask, looking to him for reassurance. he looks to you with eyes that you’ve never seen, lusted and dark.

“mhm, perfect,” he nods. “good girl.” the praise goes straight to your belly, your panties flooding from how much you want him. his hands move slowly down your inner thighs as he goes in to kiss you again.

you’re absentmindedly spreading your legs, making room for him. he smirks against your lips when he realizes. he knows what you want, so his fingers move to your panties, lightly putting pressure over your clothed bud. you whimper at the feeling, biting his lip in the process. he moans in response, putting a little more pressure against your bundle of nerves.

“jungkook,” you whine, pulling away from his lips, “please.”

“please what, baby?” he kisses your cheek, “tell me what you want.”

“please touch me, please.” you beg, making eye contact with him. jungkook’s dick twitches at the sound of your begging. he wanted to string you along a little longer, but you’re being so good.

“since you asked so nicely, baby,” he obliges. bunching your dress up around your waist and noticing the pretty black lace underwear you were wearing, “for me?” he asks. you nod, your teeth taking in your bottom lip. he groans at the thought, you getting ready and picking out these cute, risque panties out just for him. it’s just too bad they’re gonna be on the floor on his car. he’s gonna need to ask for a rain check on admiring you and your cute underwear later.

you lift your hips to help him, underwear coming off to reveal your soaking pussy. “oh, fuck,” jungkook murmurs at the sight of it. “you’re so wet baby.” he almost starts drooling, he can’t wait to taste you, but he’s still hesitant, only wanting to do what you want to. next time, he can eat you out. right now, he’ll admire the delicious sight and make you cum on his fingers.

your eyes travel to the window directly in front of you, suddenly feeling insecure. thighs closing, thinking about how someone could look in and see. “what about the windows—“

“they’re tinted, no one can see from the outside in, i promise.” he reassures, giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek before asking, “do you still want to do this? we can stop now.” he’s so lovely, his concern and change in demeanor only making you want it more, knowing that he wouldn’t want to push you to do something you were uncomfortable with. sweet was sexy on jungkook. you never thought there would be a day that jeon jungkook fingers you in a parking lot of a five star restaurant, but here you are. and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

so you shake your head, taking his hand, and placing it back in between your legs. “please.”

“anything for you.” he whispers in your ear before running his middle finger up your slit, collecting your wetness, and spreading it around your clit. he continues making tight circles on your clit, the sensation drives you crazy. you lean your head back against the window, moaning out. it was almost humiliating how reactive you were, you hadn’t indulged in this kind of intimacy in a while, almost a year to be specific.

it wasn’t helping that jungkook was a fucking pro. the right amount of pressure and the placement of his digits against you has you dripping onto his nice, dress pants. you hoped nobody else was in the parking garage, else they would hear your cries of jungkook’s name. “more, kookie, more— fuck.”

“more baby?” he questions, the sound of your moans going straight to his already hard dick. he thinks he could cum just to the sound of your voice. he’s one hundred percent fucked when it comes to you. he dips his middle finger into your hole, you gasp in reaction. “like that? hmm? ”

jungkook knew was he was doing, he had you spread wide in the backseat of his car, already on the verge on an orgasm. he had a few years of experience on his belt, a ‘retired fuck boy’ he was, but he’s never wanted to please somebody more than he does right now with you. you just looked so pretty like this, so eager and begging for more.

he adds his ring finger now, his thumb against your clit. “oh, god—“ you mutter, the feeling of his fingers and his thumb on your clit is too good. his fingers fucking you better than anyone else’s dick ever has. you found yourself bucking your hips against his fingers. “kookie, kiss me, please,” you look up to him with the eyes he can never fucking deny. so he kisses you, drinking up your moans as you fuck yourself up onto his fingers.

“i didn’t know you were such a dirty girl,” he murmurs against your lips. your walls clenching around him, “letting me touch you like this in the backseat of my car?” his usual sweet demeanor now contorting into this cocky guy with an ego. it makes you even wetter. the squelch of your pussy every time his fingers push in is loud, the sound is music to jungkook’s ears.

“only— only for you, jungkook,” you whimper. you feel a familiar knot in your stomach tighten. he looked so hot like this. eager to please. his bottom lip caught in his teeth and a strand of his long hair dangling in front of his eyes.

“good girl, all mine,” he kisses your neck. it may seem just like something you say during sex, but jungkook wanted it to be true. wanted you and only you. all to himself. he makes his way to a sweet spot, the feeling makes you tilt your head, giving him more access to kiss and suck along the sensitive skin. the discomfort of your back against the hard door was the last of your worries. your orgasm creeping closer and closer, juices leaking all overs his fingers. “so wet baby,” he growls, “i know i could just slide in, fuck you so good.”

“p-please, i want it.” the thought of jungkook fucking you senseless, oh, you’d go crazy. begging wasn’t something you did when it came to sex, most of the time it was quiet, moans and breaths were the only things that you’d hear, no dirty words or praises. it was a good change, you never thought that you’d be so into being talked through it.

he smiles at your eagerness, “patience baby, gotta take you on another date, yeah?” kissing your pursed lips. always so sweet and lovely.

you feel his fingers push a little deeper, curling to find that sweet spot inside of you. your reaction does something to him, makes him hit the exact same spot, over and over again, in a slow, torturous beat just so he can draw those delicious gasps and moans out of you. jungkook feels close. he’s never felt like this before, so wound up. he ignores it, pushing it to the back of his head to focus on helping you reach your climax.

lucky for jungkook, he didn’t have to wait very long. his fingers were longer and a thicker than yours, his efforts making you get there faster than you ever could. the consistent deep strokes of his fingers make the warning signals go off in your head. you speak a verbal warning before, “fuck, i’m gonna cum,” your voice pitches a little higher than usual.

“gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” he gives you one last sloppy kiss before you’re moaning out and coming onto his fingers, eyes screwed shut as your walls convulse rapidly as his fingers fuck you through your orgasm. “fuck, you’re so hot, ___.”

you feel a smile break on your face. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you wink, still trying to catch your breath. a laugh slips from his mouth, small smirk on his mouth to match. he slips his fingers out, your body twitching at the over stimulation.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes. inspecting his fingers, your pale almost-white cum coating the digits. he brings them to his mouth, sucking on your sweet sap. you’ve never seen anything hotter in your life. “sweet, just like you,” he smirks. you shrink in his stare, hiding your blush. like you totally didn’t just cum on his fingers.

you’re distracted by the feeling of something hard resting under your thigh, it’s then that you realize, “what about—“ you start but jungkook cuts you off quick.

“no, no, it’s okay, it’ll go away soon.” he shakes his head, but you furrow your eyebrows.

you pull on his black tie, making him lean forward and make eye contact with you “can i?” you ask, so sweetly.

he stares at you with the most sexed eyes you’ve ever witnessed. “you’re driving me crazy.”

“you’re always so sweet to me, jungkook,” you kiss his cheek. readjusting yourself in his lap, straddling him once more. “took me on this amazing dinner, always treating me like a princess.” your lips travel down from his cheeks to his jawline, then to his neck. he shudders at the feeling of your lips against his sensitive skin. your hands move from around his neck to travel further down, to the latch of his belt. his breath hitches. “let me return the favor, kookie.”

“i—“ he laughs, the embarrassment evident in the pink tint on his face. “i won’t last very long.”

you didn’t mind, just assuring him with a sweet kiss on the cheek before you start removing his belt. jungkook leans his head back on the headrest, his neck exposed for you to kiss and suck. you unbutton and unzip, pulling his pants and his boxers down at the same time. his size makes your eyes bulge. he was huge. your mouth waters at the sight.

“you’re so big, kook.” you egg him on, fueling his ego because he just looked so hot. your hand moves to hold him at the base, he lets out a shaky breath when your soft skin meets his. jungkook’s head is in the clouds, he could cum right now if he let go, but he’s holds himself back, not wanting to look like a fool in front of you. your hand moves up his dick, your thumb collecting the precum dripping from his hole, your thumb running over his slit as he groans.

his hips buck up, “shit, baby.” he just sounds so good. you could just lick him up. you collect some saliva in your mouth, letting it drip from your mouth onto his dick to lube your hand. he groans at the sight, “you’re so filthy, baby, holy shit.”

you smirk at the admission, the spit making it so easy for your hand to glide against his cock. the feeling makes him throw his head back again. his chest rising and falling. the picture of him with his eyes screwed shut in pleasure and his mouth agape makes your lower belly light up once more, you clench around nothing. leaning in as you pump his cock to whisper in his ear, “wanna fuck me so bad? have me crying on your cock? you want that, don’t you, kookie?”

jungkook twitches at your words. that’s exactly what he wants. was he that easy to read? was that what you wanted too? the thought of it makes him want to explode, “oh— god, ffuck— fuck,” he sputters. his hand coming up to hover above his head, your hand still pumping as the spurts of his cum shoot out. you smile at the action, knowing he didn’t wanna fuck up your dress. instead just making a mess of him and his hand. he takes deep breaths before speaking, “there’s a little box of tissues in the center console, could you hand it to me, baby?”

you lean back, opening the console and reaching for the small box that sits in the center. before you give it to him, your eyes flicker to the sticky mess all over jungkook’s hand and groin. a sudden urge to lick takes you over, holding jungkook’s hand and bringing it up to your mouth. you lick the dripping cum from the palm of his hand as he watches, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

jungkook shivers, a smile creeping on his face, “you— you’re evil.” the remark makes you laugh.

“sorry, just wanted to help clean up.” you smile, swallowing the cum you collected on your tongue.

“yeah, yeah, you’re not the sweet girl i thought you were,” jungkook quirks a brow.

you roll your eyes playfully, “you don’t like it?”

“nope, i love it, you’re perfect.” jungkook wipes off the remaining mess from his lap and his hand. you help him clean up tissues and he picks up your panties that were discarded on the floor. the two of you fix yourselves before stepping out of the back seat, jungkook opens the passenger door for you before he goes to a trashcan and throws away the soiled tissues.

he joins you back in the car, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. you were rambling about how happy you were that no one was around and how there were no security cameras in the parking garage. jungkook blabbers too, telling you about how embarrassed he is that he barely lasted a few minutes. before the two of you knew it, his car parked in front of your apartment complex.

he stands outside of your front door, leaning against the doorframe. all dreamy and not like he just made you cum in the backseat of his car. “text me before you sleep?” he smiles.

you nod, “of course,” reflecting the same smile. you wave before closing your door. the date being more than you ever expected. there was no way jungkook was real. he had to be a figment of your imagination, he was the absolute dream guy.

you lay in bed, staring at the stars on your ceiling. a blush creeping up to your cheeks once more when you think about the events that took place tonight.

[11:02 pm] you: thank you for tonight, jungkook

[11:02 pm] you: it was magical <3

[11:03 pm] jungkook: no problem cutie, i had an amazing time with you

[11:04 pm] jungkook: feeling okay?

[11:06 pm] you: i’m great!!! more than okay

[11:07 pm] jungkook: 😂

[11:07 pm] jungkook: i’m glad cutie

[11:08 pm] you: lunch on me next time? now that you’ve taken me for dinner :)

[11:08 pm] jungkook: sure, i’m down :)

[11:09 pm] you: i’m rlly tired kookie

[11:10 pm] you: gonna head to sleep now

[11:10 pm] jungkook: alright cutie

[11:11 pm] jungkook: sweet dreams!

｡ﾟ(ﾟ^Ｏ^ﾟ)ﾟ｡ tag list: @giadalin @ggukkieland

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goldengoddess · 4 years ago

Text

you’re my home - kaz brekker

pairing: kaz brekker x heartrenderi!reader

request: hi!can i request a kaz brekker x reader where they were childhood friends but she had to leave because she was a grisha, and later at the fete they see each other again and she ends up helping the crows?thank you!!have a great day!

a/n: hey i hope this is what you like! i based it more off the show and just switched things around,,,, this is absolutely cheesy and i hate it and i didn’t know how to end it pls forgive me omg

warnings: normal heist stuff, like one curse word?

kaz brekker had changed since the last time you saw him.

to start, he was taller. he’d grown at least two feet. he’d also grown into himself, he didn’t look like the lanky boy that you had once pulled out of the garbage can that one time. and he had a noticeable limp, something that he hadn’t had when the two of you had last talked. his clothes were different too, he was wearing a little palace guards uniform.

but you knew who he was anyways.

his voice was the same, the same comforting sound that invaded your dreams on a good night and had you screaming on a bad night. when you heard him whispering you whipped your head around in panic. he was leaning down talking to suli girl in hushed and angry tones.

when had he become a palace guard? you wondered to yourself, how hadn’t you noticed before? why was he in ravka of all places?

a silly thought came into your head, was he looking for you?

but you pushed the thought away, moving close enough to listen but not to get caught.

“take your position” you heard him say to the girl, also in guards uniform.

she moved away silently, too silently.

kaz straightened himself and surely enough turned his head in your direction.

his eyes were also the same. they were the same color the same look. but they were hardened and cold. the eyes of a boy who had done everything too survive. even the things that he didn’t want to do.

his face was shocked for only a fraction of a second before he regained his composure and faced the rest of the room. standing straight and poised like any of the other palace guards.

had he not recognized you? no, that couldn’t be it. the two of you had grown up together, yes you had changed but not enough that he wouldn’t know who you were. maybe he resented you. for leaving. for being grisha. for having been taken away and saved from the streets of ketterdam unlike him.

you remembered the day they had taken you away.

you and kaz were huddled in the corner of the room away from the rest of the kids your age.

the two of you were been inseparable. stuck together like glue, everyone said.

both of you worked the shitty jobs in the barrel. the ones no one else wanted to do. you ran around the streets delivering packages and messages. you would clean up anything that needed cleaning. the two of you were survivors.

kaz never talked about his brother or how he’d ended up working the streets like this, but you knew, even then as a little kid, you were all he had.

but nothing good ever lasted for little kaz brekker.

when the grisha examiners landed in the harbor of the city, all of the children running around making trouble on the street were forced to get tested.

you and kaz weren’t any different.

you tried to hold onto him as the adults gripped to your arm, testing your for abilities in the small science. when they determined that you were grisha, and promised you a wonderful life at the little palace, they had to rip you from kaz’s arms.

the both of you were wailing and protesting, saying that you wouldn't go anywhere without the other. but eventually the fight left you and you let them drag you away from your only family to a country you didn’t know

you snapped back to the reality of the party going on around you. kaz still looked stoic and unphased a few feet away from you, as if your presence didn’t affect him at all.

but his presence affected you tremendously.

you had whined and cried when you first made it to the palace but you had loved your life here. being surrounded by other grisha, other heartrenderers. people who could do the same things as you. understood the need to use your powers. and you couldn’t deny how comforting it had been to settle into a life where you didn’t have to worry about whether you could make enough money to eat.

you thought of kaz all the time. you thought of everything you had left behind but the only thing that had really mattered to you in that horrible place was kaz. you wondered what had become of the young boy you knew in the years since you had seen him.

just as you were about to make a move to talk to him, two squallers were storming in the direction of kaz and the silent girl he had been talking too before.

the two of them shared a look and started walking in opposite directions. kaz walked past you, sparing you the fastest look ever. a look no one else would have even noticed. but you did because kaz brekker, your child hood best friend was finally in front of you.

the hurried and suspicious steps of your fellow grisha, set off an alarm in your head. even when the two fo you were little, kaz was good at getting out of sticky situations. he has a gift for scheming and the sleight of hand.

he was here on a job, you concluded.

you waited a few seconds and then snuck away, following kaz out of the room where the main events of the fete were taking place.

you walked in just in time to see the inferni make a move to attack kaz. you raised your arms and the grisha dropped like a stone. kaz turned around in a fighting stance and froze when he saw you. he kept his hands in fists, as if he was waiting for you to attack him too.

you dropped you hands, “what are you doing here kaz?”

he dropped his hands as well but you could tell he was still on guard and looking for a way to leave the room.

"i don't have to explain myself to you” he all but growled at you.

you stepped away from him, like his words had physically wounded you.

he seemed to regret the words and took a couple of steps closer to you.

“i’m here on a job and i really need to go find my team so if you’ll excuse me” he tried to move to the door that was behind you.

“let me help” you said, almost desperate. he had just come back into your life, and yes it seemed like he resented you but you couldn’t let him go just yet.

he looked at you skeptically but nodded his head, “i need to get to the courtyards with the carriages. can you take me there.”

you nodded and started leading the way. you turned through many different hallways, moving up and downstairs. every now and then you held up a hand for kaz to stop, as you listened for a heartbeat nearby.

“you’re good at that” he mumbled, gesturing towards your heartrender movements.

you nodded your head, a shy smile. “yeah i’ve had a lot of practice here.”

his face turned gloomy at that and you realized you had said the wrong thing. “yeah. i know” he said curtly.

you stopped for a minute, turning to look at kaz in the dimly lit hallway.

“i’m sorry i left okay? i know it hurt you, i can only imagine how much it must have sucked. it was horrible here at first, i missed you every day. but i will not apologize for enjoying myself here and taking advantage of what i was taught. i like it here. i have friends, and a life, and im good at what i do and i will not allow you to make me feel bad about that.” you said all in one breath.

kaz didn’t say anything, choosing to look down at the floor instead of you.

you sighed and took a step closer to him, you noticed he still wore the black gloves similar to the first pair that you had stolen for him when you two were younger.

“kaz,” you said, your voice shaking, “i missed you so much. i still miss you and you’re standing right in front of me. i get why you hate me but i really don’t want you to. so that’s why i’m helping you, that’s why i’m going to get you out of here without getting caught.”

you turned on your heel, prepared to continue to lead him away. but before you could get away he grabbed your hand and spun you back around.

he flinched at his own action and let go.

“i don’t hate you y/n. i get why you enjoyed yourself here, this over a life of petty and dangerous crime? of course this is the better opportunity but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt when you left.”

you bit your lip and nodded your head in understanding.

he looked directly into your eyes, “i knew you would be here but i thought, hey what are the chances of actually running into you. having to see you happy and having to live with the fact that i never came to look for you.”

you took a step closer to him, “kaz i don’t blame you for not coming to get me, i wouldn’t have wanted you to anyway.”

he looked at you and for the first time he looked desperate. kaz brekker was never desperate. and if he was, he didn’t show it.

“come home with us” he said.

you raised your eye brows in surprise.

“come home with me” he corrected, looking at the wall to avoid your eyes

it was the same voice he had used all those years ago, when he was begging for you to stay. he wanted to you stay with him. to come home. to go back to the place that had broke kaz and would probably have broken you.

but it was kaz.

but ketterdam wasn’t your home anymore.

kaz had been your home, but was he still?

the two of you stayed silent. there was still so much the two of you needed to say. how you had probably loved him as a kid. how you probably loved him now. how you regretted never writing, never trying. how you missed ketterdam. how this place would be perfect if kaz was here with you. but there wasn’t enough time or courage to say those things.

so instead, you raised your arms in your fighting grisha stance and smiled at him.

“how about we get you out of here first and then we can decide is i become a fugitive of ravka to go play crime boss in ketterdam?” you teased.

he almost gave you a grin and you continued walking, a new found peace settled between the two of you.

kaz brekker in the little palace, who should have thought.

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