#if this doesn’t happen then I didn’t lie I just failed horrendously | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

m-y-fandoms · 4 years ago

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COMMISSION: Kokichi Ouma x Female Reader - Love-Hate Relationship

Thank you to my patron/client! Kokichi is always fun to write

Summary: Kokichi starts to fall for the only person in the killing game who likes him. His best friend is always on his side and has true feelings for him both platonically and romantically, but will he ruin everything with his harsh words and lies?

Friends to Enemies back to Friends to Lovers LMAO - ANGST and FLUFF

Warnings: Vulgar Language, otherwise SFW - Admin Myah

Word Count: 5.1K words

When it all began, people didn’t like Kokichi. (Y/N) found this little fact out quite quickly. It was quite obvious. He was loud, and obnoxious, and stubborn, and whiny, and a great many other negative adjectives one would use to describe, say… an elementary school student.

But! … he was also a great many other amazingly fantastical things, such as cunning, intelligent, hilarious, perceptive, adorable. These were the things (Y/N) saw in him, these and a lot more endearing qualities, these things the others seemingly refused to see in him. Even the more intelligent and reasonable of her peers, such as the intuitive detective Shuichi Saihara or the studied anthropologist Korekiyo Shinguuji could admit Kokichi was intelligent, but not much else. (Y/N) didn’t understand it. She truly didn’t think Kokichi was all that awful. Why weren’t they seeing what she saw? From the moment they all arose, groggy and confused in that eerie gymnasium together she knew he would be something special, someone to watch. She had a gift for reading people like that: their souls, their intentions, their true talents.

The two of them, in time, had even started to become friends where he had none, and she essentially became his only link to the rest of the students. It would often go something like this:

Kokichi would reveal something critical, something hidden or potentially deadly that they all must know.

Kokichi, being the stubborn ass that he was, would lie about the details, or the information altogether, switching facts around and embellishing the story with fictional bits and bites.

The other Ultimates would ignore him, call him a liar, engage in some petty squabble.

(Y/N) would vouch for the little lord of lying, and the group would reluctantly scrounge up enough good faith to believe the pair.

In times like those, (Y/N) would often chastise the tiny tyrant, forever asking him why he couldn’t just play nice and help the group out of the kindness of his heart?

There was always some nonsensical, facetious, nonchalant response.

And without fail, the more outspoken students would try to talk some sense into (Y/N), asking her why she put up with him, why she even tried to get to know him, why she liked him.

But it was no use, she was drawn to him, and there was no stopping or changing it. (Y/N) was always one to latch onto the people who piqued her interest, who plucked her heartstrings, be it romantically or platonically. She found herself enraptured by his mind at first, then his looks, then the way he spoke, and more specifically... the way he spoke to her.

Yes, despite what the others thought, she found herself always defending him, and then, she found herself falling for him.

And he would never in his life admit it, but he was starting to fall for her, too.

When the killing game first started, the others thought of him as a brat, just a nuisance. They ignored him and at worst, they told him off like the annoying kid on the playground. Back then, she would still hang out with him, ignoring his teasing jabs or even jabbing back. He found himself surprised with her comebacks and playful insults at times.

She was always around, and would never abandon him, a fact he most definitely took advantage of, for when the first killing happened, when Rantaro was taken from them and the killing game transformed from a hypothetical danger into a very, very real one, people started doubting and turning on each other. At that moment, he also was transformed in their mind. He was no longer a brat, he was becoming a villain and potential threat. People were choosing sides, forming cliques, trios, duos, going solo, and so on.

And she was always on his side.

When it came time for their terrified little class of ultimates to enter the trial grounds for the very first time, her podium was directly across from his, as if by fate. Kokichi didn’t believe too much in fate… but he didn’t mind getting a perfect view of her all trial long. He found out quickly that he may come to regret the placement, however, as it also gave her a perfect view of him, and she was no fool like the rest of them. She would watch his expressions, catch the smallest twitch of his lip or raise of his brow. Much like Shuichi, she was one of the only ones who could study his words and actions and weed out the lies… at least most of the time. She wasn’t afraid to call him out on it, and she knew the tone of his voice better than anyone else there. She was making it terribly difficult for him to confuse others, extend the trial, stir up some fun… and he liked that about her. Someone who could keep up with him was certainly not boring… and extremely attractive.

Even with so many people against him, dismissing both his lies and truths, verbally attacking him, she would hear him out, and by the end of it all, the innocent got out alive. The thrilling and bone-chilling trial ended with a correct verdict. Without their teamwork, even with Shuichi’s genius, it may not have been so.

With the first trial’s conclusion, Kokichi’d made up his mind to stop simply admiring her and actually get to enjoy that not-boring personality to the fullest. That’s the most he’d give her: that she wasn’t boring, unlike the rest of them. Grabbing her hand, he whisked her away to uncover the newest research labs that Monokuma’d allowed them access to. They inspected them all top to bottom, together as a team. They eventually would do this to every unlocked location in the academy, making short work of the campus while harassing each other, badgering and bantering, hurling insults the entire time. She was the only one he couldn’t exhaust. Just when he began to think it might be a tad bit more romantic to pull some punches for her sake, he discovered he didn’t have to. She’d punch back, and just as hard.

In fact, he liked her so much, that when his poor classmates were subjected to the horrendous Insect Meet-and-Greet event, she was personally invited by Ouma himself, and not hauled over Gonta’s gentlemanly shoulders and carried, or worse, knocked the fuck out only to wake up surrounded by bugs.

“How charming,” she teased, rolling her eyes as he stood in the frame of her dorm room’s door.

“Yeah, you should feel pretty special! I wasted precious energy coming down here to ask you to come!” He exhaled loudly, far too proud of himself.

“Well, as much as I’d love to be covered in roaches and piss myself when beetles attempt to crawl into every orifice on my body, I can’t. Again, love to, truly, but-”

“Awwww! But we hang out every night! And you’re lying! You’re never busy you dirty, rotten, lying loser! Who else hangs out with you beside me?! What else do you have to do if it doesn’t involve me? Your life’s a yawn unless I plan your daily itinerary!” He huffed, crossing his arms with a small stomp of one foot. “Gosh, I hate liars!” He pouted.

“Pout all you want, I’m not going to your bug fest. I hate bugs.”

“Wait ‘til Gonta hears about your very controversial opinion!” Kokichi gasped, feigning absolute shock.

“You wouldn’t...” her eyes widened, knowing instantly that she’d fucked up. He didn’t reply, but simply smirked, an evil, plotting, crooked grin creeping across his visage. She sighed deeply, head hanging in defeat.

“Be my date?” He held out a hand, wiggling his fingers temptingly. Her head shot up, an uncomfortable, flustered warmth running through her cheeks and to the tips of her ears. He caught this immediately, as he caught most changes in the air, and his face twisted into an equally awkward expression for a split second before his brow furrowed and he snarled. “Hurry the fuck up, shithead! You know what I meant! Let’s go or I’m having Tarzan put your ass to sleep!” He spat, and she simply giggled, grabbing his hand before being pulled off.

“Your date huh? I can’t think of anything I’d love more than some worms in my shoes.”

♡

That morning when they awoke, Ryoma was gone, stolen away in what they assumed was either the night or the early morning. Kokichi was usually very much unfazed, desensitized to most shock and awe in life, but this time… it was different. He was upset, and visibly so, stomping around the crime scene like a child, brooding.

It wasn’t the loss of a Ryoma, nor the gore and tragedy of the scene that had him so agitated, it was her reaction to it. (Y/N) wore her heart on her sleeve, and she wasn’t afraid to cry in front of others, so it was no surprise that she was in tears now. She’d cried over both Rantaro and Kaede’s deaths, but that was different. Kaede was a girl, and he didn’t care about (Y/N) enough back when Rantaro was killed to be jealous of her tears, but now… he was practically green.

(Y/N) had actually been pretty close with Ryoma. Like she did with most people, she dug past Ryoma’s appearance and the story he wanted everyone to know, and what she found was a pretty amazing guy. She wasn’t as close to him as she was to Kokichi, but still…

These weren’t tears of horror from seeing a dead body, or of witnessing a young person’s life cut short. They were tears of mourning the loss of a close friend, and Kokichi was positively boiling.

By the time he’d managed to cool himself down while effectively hiding his meltdown from the rest of them, (Y/N) had wandered off to start the investigation and avenge her friend with Shuichi. Yeah no, that wasn’t going to happen. She was quickly swept away to start their own little search party. The two of them, the way it was supposed to be. Of course, he would never say all of these embarrassing thoughts aloud. He’d make up some stupid excuse for why she just had to come with him. But it wasn't personal, and he didn’t care about her.

He didn’t

He. Didn’t.

Did he...?

♡

When it came time for the second trial, Kokichi made sure to make fun of (Y/N), calling her a crybaby, mocking her “endless blubbering” and all the valuable time she wasted doing it. He tried desperately, now at war with his own heart and values, to convince himself she was nothing to him, that she was just another pea-brained opponent in this death game, that she was a source of entertainment at best, and nothing else.

“Shut the fuck up, Miu, nobody wants to hear that gross shit! Cream your pants later!” (Y/N) spoke across the circle to the blonde exhibitionist with a scowl on her face. Miu, in response, shriveled and whined. Kokichi couldn’t help but crack a smile. That was one of the things he loved about (Y/N), how she put people in their place.

What?! Shit, no! Not loved… I mean she was cool, but... not - his mind raced, trying to shake himself back to the place he wanted to be. Shit!

The trial went on, and with every word she worsened the self-made conflict within him.

“How could you say that Kaito?!” (Y/N) howled at the Ultimate Astronaut, who was taken aback by her anger. Kokichi, too, found himself taken aback. Kaito was the “good guy”, the macho action hero, the protagonist’s best friend. While many called Kaito names, dismissed his ridiculous ideas, and even told him he was plain stupid and wrong at times, no one ever truly challenged the trusted hero duo that was Shuichi and Kaito, and certainly not with such unbridled anger. “You must have no idea what it’s like to go through depression, to not see the point in living anymore! How dare you speak ill of Ryoma?! How dare you say he used to be your hero?!” She knew what it was like, those dark thoughts Ryoma must’ve been having for years.

Kokichi watched her, like a spitfire, a firecracker. He forgot all about his decision to let her go, to stop interacting with her altogether after today, and couldn’t help being pulled in. They spent the rest of the trial working as they usually did: together, as a team. He spoke up more, and they teased each other, flirting harmlessly and carrying on.

And the others were starting to notice…

“Man, can’t you two save it for when you’re alone?! Damn! I can practically see you undressing each other with your eyes, bleh!” Miu gagged before letting out one of her infamous cackles. (Y/N)’s face ran hot, instinctively leaning back on her podium. Her bottom lip caught itself between her teeth, at a loss for words as she met Kokichi’s gaze.

“Yeah right, as if! I’d love to be discussing with literally anyone else here but you guys all have the personality of dirty pond water…” Kokichi sighed defensively, looking at his nails as if Miu’s words meant nothing to him.

(Y/N) knew how he was, she knew harsh words and lies were his coping mechanism, but she couldn’t help the way her shoulders sunk.

♡

Despite her hurting heart, when Kokichi - the shit-stirrer that he was - revealed Maki’s truth to the group after Kirumi’s execution, (Y/N) was the only one to throw herself between them, prying Maki’s hands from her best friend’s throat.

“Fuck, now she’s out here tryna die for this asshole!” Miu crowed. “HA HA! They’re definitely fuckin’!” She held her stomach, practically in tears from her laughing fit.

“Shut up! Just shut up!” (Y/N) pushed past the crowd, tired of them, tired of the humiliation, tired of Kokichi, tired of all of it. She left the trial room, running all the way and not stopping until she was locked up in her room.

After the public embarrassment and Kokichi’s heartless dismissal of their… complicated relationship, maybe….

Maybe now it was her turn to cut him off.

♡

Days passed and she refused to see him. She stayed locked up in her room at night and avoided him during the day, well... avoided him as best she could. Kokichi wasn’t one to be ignored if he didn’t want to be. He persisted, harassing and tracking her around, begging her to talk to him, to play, to prank others with him, to investigate the new research labs, but she simply pretended he wasn’t there. It hurt, it really hurt to shut him out, but to go on with him acting like she didn’t matter in public and then deciding she did in private hurt even worse. Her loyalty could only go so far. She wouldn’t allow him to mess with her heart any longer… or so she thought.

♡

Hours before the third trial was to commence, (Y/N) found herself outside of Korekiyo’s research lab when what looked like a walking corpse stumbled by. She cried out, running over to a dazed Kokichi, bumbling about light-headed and pale, with fresh blood running freely down his head.

“Kokichi!” Her feelings be damned! She couldn’t just sit there and watch him suffer or worse. Who knew how much blood he’d already lost? Crazed with worry, she threw his arm over her shoulder, looking around frantically wondering why no one else had noticed him yet.

The answer was simple: no one else cared. They probably had noticed and simply written him off. (Y/N) pouted, contemplating leaving him there… she was supposed to be mad at him.

“Ohhhhh… gah! ...Damn you, Kokichi!” How did he keep doing this? How was he worming his evil little ass into her heart again and again?! She began dragging him down the stairs and toward the dorms. The investigation would have to wait.

“(Y-Y/N)...?” Kokichi mumbled in his ditzy state. “Hoo hoo! I thought we weren’t talkin’?!” He nearly tumbled from her arms, weak and wobbly.

“Oh, shut up, asshole!” (Y/N) growled, nearing the dormitory area and pulling him into her room.

♡

“Man, that sucked!” Kokichi sat leaned against the glass of the sliding shower door in the small personal offshoot bathroom attached to her small dorm room. A cold washcloth sat covering his forehead, wetting the messy strands of his long bangs.

“Tell me again why you didn’t just call for help once you realized how badly you were bleeding?” (Y/N) made small talk, wringing out the soiled rag she’d initially used to clean him off. He took a swig of some icy bottled water she’d provided and glowered, his bottom lip out in contemplation.

“ ‘Cause I didn’t think anyone would come…” he spoke flatly, exhausted with the loss of blood and shittiness of it all. She froze, turning to him.

“I’m sorry…” she sighed, replacing the washcloth on his head with some gauze that she started to gently wrap around the rather deep wound.

“You should be! Hmpf!” He crossed his arms and she pulled on the gauze sharply, tightly constricting the oozing sore. “Shit!”

“Don’t start, dickhead. You’re lucky I’m choosing to forgive you!” She chided. He shot her a dirty look, and for moments they sat in silence.

“... For a moment I thought you hated me… like the rest of them,” he finally spoke up, any amount of silence torturous to his child-like psyche. She felt her heart sink.

“... I could never.” She smiled softly, fighting off a nagging frown that threatened to present itself. Before he could make this even more awkward, she stood, taking control of the situation. “Okay, I’ll be right back, you stay right here. I don’t want you passing out again.” She took off, closing the bathroom door and sneaking away into the main room.

Shuffling through her closet and by extension her Monokuma-provided wardrobe, she peeled off first her shirt then her uniform’s skirt, both now completely ruined by dark patches of Kokichi’s blood, her reward for carrying his sorry ass all the way here. Now in only her underwear, she reached for a replacement uniform and wandered over to her bedside table for her deodorant and some facial wipes. As she wiped the grime and sweat from the crevices of her oily face, the bathroom door slid open with an impatient force behind it.

“I’m boooooooored-”

“Ahh!” She screeched, rushing to cover herself up before she could even process what was happening, but the only things nearby were her comforter and intricate uniform.

“Oh, God! Why are you naked?!” Kokichi hollered, his face turning beet red. (Y/N) pulled the comforter up and around her body, her uniform falling from the bed.

“I told you to wait there!” Her cheeks felt engulfed in flames, the skin all over her body hot and her feathers effectively ruffled.

“You didn’t say why! You didn’t say you were doing a strip show in here!” He retorted, covering his eyes with one arm, more for her to save face than out of his own desire.

“Get out! Just get out!” She screamed, tears pricking her eyes.

“But-!”

“Now!!” Full of a genre of rage he almost never felt, he conceded, stomping out of her room without another word.

(Y/N) fell to her bed, screaming into her pillow like nobody’s business. She felt ashamed, mortified, infuriated. Why, for once, couldn’t he just listen?! Her body was never something she was confident in or proud of, and now, to have him, the guy she had feelings for see her like that, and not only practically naked, but caught off guard… it was as more than she could handle.

♡

The trial room was relatively quiet that afternoon. The usual suspects were chatting, defending themselves, accusing others. Shuichi was having a pretty smooth trial - a blessing in his eyes - with Kokichi not giving him an easier time than usual. When he did speak, it was his usual lies, with an underlying irritated tone, but he never spoke a word to (Y/N), and (Y/N) hardly spoke at all. After some time, someone addressed the elephant in the room… err, other than the murders, that is…

“Soooo, uh…” Kaito, courageous as always, spoke out, “(Y/N), you awake over there? We could use some help to, you know, find the culprit so we don’t all bite it?” He was only somewhat gentle with his words, having already made up with her after the last trial’s argument, but anxious over the current situation. “Shuichi and I can’t handle this on our own! You usually have a lot to say!”

“I resent that comment, Kaito, as I believe I help plenty, but yes,” Kiibo rolled his metallic eyes to the sky, ever focused on the current goal, “you do usually have more to say, (Y/N). We could really use another opinion here.”

“Something wrong with (Y/N)?” Gonta, always concerned for his friends’ feelings inquired, brows furrowed in concern.

“Hah!” Miu spat. “Of course something’s wrong! Haven't you noticed that little prick over there ain’t feedin’ us his bullshit nearly as much as neither?!” She pointed at Kokichi before placing a haughty hand on her hip. “He probably slipped her his little prick, and it was so tiny she was turned off for good! Probably can’t even speak, she’s so disappointed! Hella awkward!” She roared. Everyone exchanged the familiar looks of disgust or scorn that came after one of Miu’s outbursts, and as (Y/N) opened her mouth to defend them both, she was cut off.

“More like the other way around!” Kokichi hurled Miu’s statements right back in her face, his knuckles crunching down on his podium with a vice-like grip. “After I saw her naked earlier, I was the one leaving with a softie!” He growled, his frustrations, self-loathing, and need to be in control and defend himself all culminating in these toxically destructive words.

A few audible gasps were heard in the room, a few laughs from Monokuma and his remaining offspring, and the more mature students such as Maki and Shuichi simply sighing in exhaustion, wondering why they kept getting off track with useless information. (Y/N) felt her knees almost buckle.

No. Not this time! She heard her mind shout at her heart, and she slammed her hands down on her podium, all embarrassment melting into pure rage.

“YOU- GOD!” An encore slam down onto the flat metal, “You FUCKING asshole! That’s not what happened you goddamn fucking LIAR, and you know it!” Her voice was hoarse with the force of it.

“Uh oh! Struck a ner-” Miu began to speak.

“You shut the fuck up!” (Y/N) pointed to the busty instigator before directing her venomous ire back at Kokichi, who refused to look her in the eyes. “I did everything to help you after your dumb ass fell through the fucking floor, and this is how I’m repaid?! I do everything with you and for you, and this is how you treat me?! Why do you always sit here and lie to these people about us?! Fucking shithead fucking-” she was struggling for words, holding back tears. “You tell them the truth, that I had your blood all over me from patching you up because no one else likes your sorry ass! Everyone else would’ve left you passed out on the floor or worse dead from blood loss or killed by the culprit who seems to be on a fucking spree!” She gestured wildly, talking with her hands. “You walked in on me changing my bloody clothes! It was your fault! Just like it’s your fault that you have one fr-” her voice broke, and she looked to her feet. “No friends. Fuck you… Shuichi just finish the fucking trial we all know who the culprit is.” She looked down the rest of the trial, saying nothing, hearing nothing, just a ringing in her ears.

“This is reeeeeeal fuckin’ awkward and I hate it here,” Miu cooed, rubbing her hands together.

♡

As soon as the trial was over, Kokichi, feeling the weight of his best friend’s words, searched high and low for her. The campus was huge with many places to hide, but he knew her well, and he knew her favorite spots. He checked the AV room, library, casino, her research lab, and her room first, then everywhere else, asking anyone he came across about her whereabouts.

“Dude you messed up, even by your standards,” Kaito demeaned with a righteous fist in the air.

“I think it’s completely reasonable that she would not want to speak with you,” Kiibo sighed.

“Kokichi, you probably really hurt her. Just let her be, that’s the right thing to do,” Shuichi offered guidance even to the worst of his peers any time he could.

“Why are you speaking to me?” Maki walked away.

♡

At long last, finding himself in the basement after wallowing around the school for a while, he opened the door to the AV room for some space and privacy, seeing as it was rarely used since Rantaro’s death. He gasped.

“(Y/N)!” She turned from her position reading on the little couch, startled, and immediately turned back upon seeing the owner of the voice. He closed the door behind him, shuffling over with his tail between his legs. Quickly, before she could notice, he forced a rather convincing peppy voice. “The heck?! I already checked here!” She knew that. She’d been there earlier, and left when she heard he was making the rounds only to return later, but she didn’t say as much now. “Soooo? Whatcha readin’?” He grinned, plopping down on the floor beside her seated position on the couch. She didn’t respond, didn’t change her expression, and merely kept reading. “C’mon!!! Reading’s boring!!! Well,” he tapped his finger on his lip pensively “not always! But your taste in books is! Let’s at least go find some good shit to read together!” She had not the mental or physical energy, the want nor the need to banter with him. As far as she was concerned, this… whatever it was, was over.

Kokichi sighed, taking the hint to stop talking but not the hint to leave her the fuck alone. She would not physically kick him out, he knew this, and it seemed she wouldn’t do it verbally either. It was safer not to be alone, she rationalized in her mind… well, only if the group knew who was paired up and when, but he would never hurt her… physically. And she would never hurt him. And so, Kokichi resolved to sit there, just sit there and stare: at the ceiling, at her, at his thumbs. After the first thirty minutes he began to make pretend snow angels on the ground with his arms and legs flopping together and apart. He lapped around the room a few times, looked through the DVD options, sat with her on the couch, moved closer, then further, then closer, back and forth trying to get some reaction. Usually he could at least annoy someone into paying attention to him. Even negative attention was still attention. She was never like this with him. This was bad… he could feel his selfish little heart ache.

An hour passed, and then another. She’d picked up a sketch pad she’d stored in the couch cushions, doodled, changed books, and now was reading again. He’d begun running his fingers up and down her thigh, making explosion and car noises when he hit her knee. And finally, he spoke.

“You know, you’re super brave to be down here alone, you know... before I got here I mean… or at all really. Place is spooky… haunted since Rantaro got murked. No one comes down here but you. Surprised you’re down here… but I guess you always are.” He could feel the stone wall she’d put up between them. “You know, it kinda sucks, that we lost Rantaro…”

“...and Ryoma, and Tenko, and Kirumi, Angie, Kiyo, Kaede…” she spoke up, irritated by his flippance. “Don’t forget them like they don’t matter.” He twiddled his thumbs in response.

“At least you didn’t die…” he tapped on the back of the book you were reading, making the pages shake before her eyes.

“Like you’d care if I did,” she replied without hesitation.

“I woooooould,” he pulled at her sleeve like a toddler aching to be picked up.

“I’m ugly. I’m fat and hideous and a turn off and just disgusting, right? So who cares if I die?” She spoke like she was reciting a grocery list: monotone, uninterested.

“Well… I can still care about ugly people…” he batted his eyelashes innocently. The look she shot him told him she was not in the mode for jokes. “B-but, you’re not ugly! You’re way hotter than Maki or Miu or any other hag here! I just said all that stuff to catch Miu off guard! It was all a lie!” He was getting nervous now, sitting upright beside her on the couch.

“That is not an apology,” she rebuked.

“Aww come on, forgive me!” He collapsed, resting face down on her stomach and stretching his body out on the cushions behind him. “You’re my best friend…” His words were muffled, but she could make them out still. “You’re more than that…” her ears perked up, and she began to hear sniveling. Slowly, a wetness began to seep through her shirt onto her abdomen.

Was he…?

She placed a single hand on the back of his black locks and ran her fingers through the messy mop. The other placed the book on the floor then joined the other. For a few peaceful moments they sat silently while she stroked his scalp and played with the waves.

“I’m sorry…” an apology came through his sniffles, but he would not lift his head up, never in a million years would someone see him cry genuine tears.

“I can’t hear you,” she lied, something she learned from him. A devious smirk he could not see crossed her lips.

“Yes you can!” Muffled frustration vibrated her tummy.

“Well since I can’t hear you anyway this conversation is ov-”

His head shot upward, a snarl crossing his red, moist, puffy face. He pulled his knees up, leaning forward with all his weight

And pressed his lips deeply into hers.

324 notes · View notes

keanureevesisbae · 4 years ago

Text

But professor… - c.8

Summary: Walter and Penny adapt to Maryland

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: None

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter //

Tomorrow Walter and I are going to move to Maryland and there is just one more thing I need to do: buy some snacks. My cravings have been all over the place recently, so a trip without snack is asking for trouble. Walter is packing the final things with my mom and dad and in a minute they are going to put everything in the truck and U-haul. Since I’m the only one that knows what I really want, I decided to go on a little grocery store trip.

I’m wearing an oversized sweater on top of my leggings and it’s almost the only piece of clothing that is able to hide the bump. I’m seventeen weeks pregnant now, meaning the bump is harder and harder to hide, however this sweater will do. The chances of me running into someone I actually know is next to zero, but better be safe than sorry.

I walk into the grocery store and grab a basket, slowly filling it with what I want. ‘There she is,’ I hear a voice say, one I haven’t heard in so long and certainly haven’t missed.

Fitzgerald.

Every hair in my neck stands up straight. I simply pull my lips into an awkward smile, before walking off to the register. As I’m scanning the products, he actually follows me and I hate how this guy never understands the message, spoken or unspoken.

‘So, you haven’t been coming to classes,’ he says.

‘I know,’ I say, ‘I quit. Been looking into some other things.’

That is already more than I actually wanted to share with him, but hopefully it’s enough to make him go away.

‘Oh really? What you been looking into?’

Just fuck off, Fitzgerald. ‘First of all moving back home,’ I say, packing everything in my bag. ‘New York never really was the place for me.’ After paying for my snacks, I walk out of the store, only to hear the footsteps of the guy who just won’t leave me alone following behind me.

‘Did you hear that professor Marshall is quitting?’

Yes, I actually helped him writing his resignation letter. ‘Oh,’ I say, ‘I didn’t.’

‘Apparently he got a job offer somewhere else.’

Yep, in Maryland. ‘Good for him,’ I say. ‘Well, I gotta go. Bye, Fitzgerald.’

He wants to say something, but then his eyes widen. ‘Yeah, bye,’ he says. He quickly turns around and is gone by the time I looked over my shoulder at him.

What was that about?

When I look up, I glare at Walter, who is standing on the other side of the road, leaning against a street light, his arms crossed. I walk up to him and without saying a word at first, we get mixed into the crowd. ‘What was that about?’ I ask him.

‘Nothing,’ he says, a little too nonchalant for my liking, ‘just wanted to make sure that you weren’t carrying anything too heavy.’ He pulls the bags from my hands and adds: ‘I hate that snotty kid.’

‘I had everything under control,’ I say, poking his side. ‘Did you see him scooting away?’

‘I wish I had it on video,’ Walter chuckles.

My parents are already in the U-haul they rented to make moving as quickly and easy as possible for us and I hand them some snacks.

‘Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re moving back,’ mom says, after our final pee. Walter just handed over the key to the realtor of his loft and stands behind me, before he says: ‘I know I am happy to move to Maryland. I quite love the place already.’ He presses a kiss on my temple.

My parents get in the U-haul and I wave to them as they drive off. Walter helps me in the truck and when he sits next to me, he gives me a kiss. ‘I love you,’ he tells me.

‘I love you too, Walter.’ I take off my sweater, before strapping myself in the seatbelt. ‘It’s ridiculously hot in here,’ I say, leaning back against the seat.

‘Twenty bucks you are gonna be cold within half an hour.’

I glare at him. ‘That’s mean.’

‘Ah, princess, don’t pout. You know how that makes me weak.’ I continue to tut my bottom lip out and he chuckles. ‘Let’s just hope the baby doesn’t get your pout, because otherwise I can never say no.’

‘No matter what the baby looks like,’ I say, ‘you’re gonna be unable to say no anyway. You are such a push over with me, this baby will wrap you around their finger in no time.’

‘Ai, exposed.’ He holds my hand in his as he drives off and gives me a kiss on my knuckles.

‘You thought about the co sleeping thing I mentioned to you?’ I ask him.

He sighs. ‘Yes and I’m not sure about it. I mean, we could place a crib in our room, right?’

‘But that’s so sad for the baby. To be alone like that after living inside my stomach for so long. What if they don’t be to be alone? They are not gonna sleep in our bed forever, Walter.’

‘I know,’ he says, ‘but… what if I crush them? I mean, they would be in between us, so… That means no sleep for me.’

I start to laugh. ‘That was your worry? Oh, Walter.’ Since I’m already close to him, I wrap my arms around his neck to give him a kiss on his cheek. ‘Aren’t you absolutely darling?’

I actually spot a faint blush on his cheeks.

I decide not to push it any further, because I feel like this co sleep thing is something that needs to simmer for awhile. ‘Can I ask a question?’ I ask.

He nods. ‘Of course.’

‘What if something goes wrong,’ I start, but he is having none of it.

‘No, no, no, nothing is gonna go wrong.’

‘But what if?’ I say. ‘I mean, something could go wrong during birth.’

He clenches his jaw, not wanting to talk about it obviously. ‘I see,’ he mumbles.

‘What I wanted to say was that if I am unable to answer, that you should decide what happens, okay? I’m one hundred percent sure you are going to choose the right thing for us.’

He smiles. ‘That’s what you wanted to tell me?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Oh, princess, princess, don’t scare me like that, okay?’

I smile. ‘Sorry.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Walter and I bought a house and never in a million years did I expect to have this type of domestic life at only twenty one, however it’s exactly the life I have now and I wouldn’t change it for the world. The move from New York and Maryland went pretty swiftly, especially because my parents helped a lot, since it’s only twenty minutes from my parents’ place.

The place we chose was already pretty great, but Walter and I decided—okay, I decided—that some wallpaper should cheer it up. It was a lot of white and it made me feel like I was at a dentist. There’s lots of pastel going on now, mint green, baby blue, soft pink and some yellow.

However, Walter did all the work, because he doesn’t want me to do anything. Too much work can’t be good for the baby, princess.

He now works at the Maryland Police Department and he is actually enjoying it a lot. He now is on patrol duties, but it will only take a few months before he is back as a detective again.

Weeks have gone by and today marks me being twenty seven weeks pregnant. I won’t lie about it, but I’m very over this pregnancy already. Everything hurts. My head hurts, my stomach hurts, my boobs hurts and don’t get me started on my back. I’m mostly sitting on the couch, reading both informative books and novels if I’m not mindlessly watching Netflix shows.

I am a horrendous cook, but I continue to try some things for Walter, because I hate it that he has to both work and cook himself some dinner when he’s off.

Walter comes back from work and smiles when he sees me. ‘There is my beautiful woman,’ he says. ‘Princess, princess, aren’t you gorgeous.’

‘Stop,’ I chuckle, trying to get up from the couch, but fail miserably. ‘I’m sorry, but dinner got burned.’

He smiles. ‘That’s okay, princess. I’ll order some take out, don’t you worry.’

‘I’m really useless,’ I admit. ‘I’m so sorry.’

He scoffs. ‘Don’t say stuff like that. You’re never useless.’ He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me against his side. ‘Tell me what did you do today?’

‘I went to that meeting,’ I say, ‘talked about being a first time mom. It’s just that…’ I place my head against his shoulder. ‘I’m scared.’

‘Why is that, princess?’

‘What if I’m a terrible mom?’

‘You’re not gonna be a terrible mom,’ he retorts. ‘The audacity to think you’re gonna be a terrible mom, when I know that you are nothing but sweet, kind, lovely and you will be a wonderful mom.’

‘Really?’ I ask.

‘Really, darling.’ He places his hand on my stomach and says: ‘It’s okay to be scared, however, you have nothing to worry about. Not when I am right here for the two of you.’

✎ ✎ ✎

The next day, while my mom and I are folding some baby clothes, we watch dad and Walter finish the crib. Mom has been sharing embarrassing baby stories about me and to make things even worse, my dad adds a few stories to it, some I didn’t even know.

Thankfully Walter really enjoys them, because he chuckles loudly. It took him awhile, but he is really liking it, having my parents around.

‘You really don’t want to know the gender?’ mom asks me.

‘No,’ I say, ‘I like to be surprised.’

‘Walter,’ my mom sighs, ‘can’t you talk some sense into her?’

‘Sorry, CC,’ he says, ‘but I kinda like the surprise too.’

She scoffs, before she lets out a chuckle. The baby already made the bond between my parents and I a lot tighter and for that I’m forever grateful.

I resit a little and Walter wouldn’t be Walter if he didn’t notice immediately I was slightly uncomfortable. ‘Princess, are you okay?’

‘Yeah, just my back hurts.’

‘How about you go to bed?’ Walter suggests. ‘Rest a little? You’ve been up pretty early on.’ When I don’t stand up immediately, he walks over to me and crouches down in front of me. ‘What’s wrong, princess?’

‘Nothing, just tired and in pain, that’s all.’

He nods, pulls me up and holds my hand tightly in his. I want to apologize to my parents, but my mom simply tells me not to worry. ‘Pregnancy can be rough, darling,’ she says, ‘so please don’t worry.’

I wonder if it’s hard for my mom to see me pregnant, when she couldn’t get pregnant herself. She never said it to me, but still I wonder from time to time. Even if she does have some hard feelings against it, she never shows it, as she is super supportive of the pregnancy. I give her a kiss, just like I give my dad a kiss and mom says: ‘Walter, did you even sleep last night?’

‘No, this one woke me up,’ he says with a smile.

‘You should sleep as well. You had a late shift the day before yesterday and you two should get a lot of sleep when you can. When the baby is here, she’ll keep you up.’

‘We really don’t know the gender, mom,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘I don’t know if they are gonna be a he or a she.’

‘Worth a shot, you gotta give me that. Okay, you go rest, we finish up in here and let ourselves out. We love you.’

‘Love you too,’ I say back, before Walter and I walk towards the bedroom. He helps me out of my sweatpants and into the bed. I hug the pregnancy pillow, and the bed dips down a bit when Walter gets underneath the thin blanket behind me. He places his hand on my stomach, before kissing my temple. ‘You comfortable, sweetheart?’

‘I am,’ I whisper. ‘I’m sorry I’m keeping you up.’

‘No, don’t do that.’

It only causes me to sniffle, but Walter knows exactly what to do when I have these slight emotional outbursts. He pulls my back closer against his chest, despite him being very warm, he tugs the blankets over our bodies and warms me up even more, giving me more kisses on the side of my face. ‘It can get pretty rough, princess,’ he says, ‘and that’s okay. Just let it all out, okay?’

‘Why are you so sweet?’ I hiccup.

He chuckles. ‘Well, you’re gonna be the mom of our kid and you’re my girlfriend. Of course I’m gonna be sweet to you. Forever and ever, princess. Forever and ever.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfic #walter marshall x penny townsend #walter marshall x asian ofc #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x oc #penny townsend #asian ofc #but professor

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years ago

Note

39 w quinn hughes please. - from ur local quinn lover (yes it’s me) ((i hope you understand))

Hmmmm @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys any idea’s who this could be from 👀

It’s officially blurb weekend! Send me prompts and boys!

39. I wish people would stop asking us if we’re dating.

“Remind me again why you had this idea?” you call to him, flattening out your black skirt and red shirt. The wig he found you was horrendous, but the other option was poorly dyed black hair, which you desperately didn’t want.

“Uh,” Quinn hesitates in the other room, him also putting the finishing touches on his costume, “I asked Jack and he found it on Google.”

You run into the other room, shocked that he would ask his brother. The deal was that you wouldn’t tell anyone, at least not yet. “What did you say to him?” you ask, your eyes panicked, a laugh falling from his lips as he mocked your reaction.

“Relax, Jack doesn’t know. I just said we wanted to dress up together and he said Popeye and Olive Oyl.” He pulls you in for a hug, wrapping his bare arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

You and Quinn had been together for a little while now, not telling anyone out of your irrational fear that the guys would make fun of you for falling for the exact guy they said you would. Having known Jake since you were a child, he always said you weren’t allowed to date his teammates; when Quinn joined the team, he detested the idea while the other guys said it was bound to happen.

“I think Jake is getting a feeling something is going on,” you say, running your hands through the curls that were forming near his neck. “Brock asking if we were fucking the other day didn’t help.”

“Well, it’s not like he’s wrong,” Quinn says, his cheeks changing to the same color as your shirt.

“Q!” you squeal, both of you laughing. He dips down and kisses you, your fingers leaving marks on his arms as you tighten your grasp on him. “I wish people would stop asking us if we were dating.”

“We could just tell them we are tonight. I mean, we’re in a couples costume for god sake.”

“Jake would kill us.”

He kisses you again, trying to make you forget about your friend altogether. “I’d like to see him try to kill Popeye once I eat my spinach.” You both burst out laughing, finally letting go of each other, Quinn trying and failing to imitate Popeyes famous chuckle.

The two of you meet the guys at whoever's house Quinn had taken you to. He knocks on the door, stealing a quick kiss before none other than Jake opens the door. Thankfully, he was oblivious enough to not notice the pink that appeared on your cheeks, you overjoyed that Quinn was quick enough to pull away.

“You look like a deflated Popeye, where’s the muscle?” Jake chirps Quinn, knocking the sailor's hat off his head.

Quinn scoffs, readjusting his hat and walking away, leaving you there with your friend. “Can’t you just be nice to him?” you beg him.

“Not when he shows up in a couple’s costume with my best friend, no.” You look past him, watching Quinn interact with his teammates. You couldn’t help but smile when he caught your eye, sending a wink your way that made you just about melt at the sight of. “Earth to Y/N?” you head Jake, forgetting that he was in front of you to begin with. “You’re bright red.”

“Oh, sorry, I was thinking about something from work,” you lie, praying that he wouldn’t ask you any more questions.

He continues talking, you not paying attention as Quinn makes faces at you, Brock and Petey joining in. You try not to laugh, trying to listen to whatever it was Jake said. You were doing just fine until Petey decided to kiss Quinn’s cheek, Quinn yelling and wiping his face in disgust while Brock is doubled over laughing. You choke on your drink, Jake turning around to watch the scene unfold, dragging you over to the other three guys.

“Bet you wish that was Y/N kissing you, don’t ya?” Brock teases.

You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, especially once Quinn says, “Yeah, duh,” without thinking.

“What?” Jake asks, both of you freezing.

“They’re obviously dating,” Brock says, you sending daggers in his direction, while the color drains from Quinn’s face.

“What?” Jake yells.

“Yeah,” Quinn says quietly, looking down at his shoes.

“How long?”

“Four months?” Brock answers for you, all of you gasping, even if it was for different reasons.

“How the hell did you know that?” Quinn says, panic washing over his voice.

Brock lets out a laugh, all of you confused. “Huggy here’s been happier, Y/N’s been happier, anytime we’re going out, the two of them are with each other the entire time, Quinn lights up when Jake mentions her name,” he starts listing off. “There was also that one time that we were out and both Y/N and Quinn disappeared for a solid half an hour and when they reappeared, Y/N’s shirt was wrinkled and you both had messier hair than when you left.”

You both stand there, frozen in anticipation for Jake’s reaction while Brock and Elias slowly back away, letting the three of you hash out the secret Brock had somehow been the only one smart enough to figure out.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jake asks.

“I thought you would kill him,” you admit.

Jake laughs, “I wouldn’t kill him. That’s too much effort.”

“You’re ok with this?” Quinn asks, hesitating to do anything else.

Jake looks between both of you for a moment, the anxiety building up inside you as he drags out the silence between you. “If it makes you happy fine, I just don’t want to see anything,” he says, walking away from the two of you.

You look at each other, Quinn approaching you slowly in case Jake comes back suddenly. “At least I can do this now,” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing you in front of the guys for the first time.

You hear the guys acting like children behind you, hollering about Quinn with a girl while Jake yells, “I didn’t want to see this!”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks imagines #canucks #canucks imagines

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jcmorrigan · 4 years ago

Note

Blakeworther,,,but college

OKAY. I SAW THIS LAST NIGHT AND WAS THINKING ALL THROUGH LAST NIGHT AND THIS MORNING BECAUSE THIS HAD TO BE GOOD

Blakeworther: ORIGINS (hopefully actually canon-compliant?)

-Vincent didn’t want a roommate. But RMU has a policy that unless a first-year has an extreme medical condition that requires them to room alone, they have to double up due to high attendance rates vs. limited dorm space. So unfortunately, Vincent needs to stay in the same room as this “Victor Blake” person he’s never met before and probably won’t like.

-He opens the door to their room on the first day. Victor is already there, decorating his half of the room. And you think Victor is a flirt nowadays? This is a Victor straight out of high school, with lingering teenage hormones. He takes one look at Vincent, gives him a coy smile, and just goes “Hello, beautiful.” And winks.

-Vincent goes “Don’t talk to me” and starts setting up his side of the room.

-Well, that’s rude. Victor tries to engage in conversation a couple more times, but Vincent makes it clear he is NOT HAVING IT, so Victor eventually gives up and pouts. (Vincent really is pretty. But more importantly than that, Victor kind of wanted his roommate to be his friend. That seems like a requirement for the college experience.)

-Oh, well. If they can put up with each other for one (1) year, they can request new roommates for their second year.

-Vincent sets off for his 8 a.m. on the first day. Psychology 101. He gets going at about 7 because he NEEDS to make a statement by getting there first. Back in high school, he was valedictorian, and he must continue to show people how classy, smart, and punctual he is.

-He arrives at the classroom. Seemingly empty. He strides through the door -

-The next thing he knows, he’s on the floor. Someone has screamed. He thinks it’s him. He’s disheveled, his books scattered. What just happened?

-After assessing the situation and going over the split-second incident that is retroactively gelling in his memory, he realizes that he walked through that door, and somebody who was waiting on the other side of the wall, just around the corner and out of sight, leapt out and JUMPSCARED him the moment he walked in.

-He looks up at the perpetrator who stands above him, giggling his ass off. This asshole is wearing a bright pink shirt and he’s admittedly kinda cute but also this was unforgivable.

-Victor: “What the HELL was that for?” Pink Shirt Man: “I knew someone would come along who thought they were first, and I wanted to make it clear this is my territory. I was here for fifteen minutes before you.” Vincent: “Why the HELL were you waiting here for fifteen minutes - “

-He makes a point of gathering up his books VERY ANGRILY and stomping to the furthest corner of the classroom to sit as far away from Pink Shirt as possible. Then glares at him venomously.

-So. A word on Albert. He grew up an only child with very few friends. He’s got a roommate too, but the guy’s an introvert in dark glasses who barely talks, spends like all his time watching anime, and is visibly just scared of Albert. So that friendship is out the window.

-(Yes. It’s Winston. He has not had an easy life.)

-This leaves Albert, who has no idea how to appropriately interact with people but has way too much pent-up energy, trying to figure out how to get people’s attention so he can make friends. But when I say he has no idea, I mean he has NO idea.

-So he sits down in the front row where his stuff was previously and just turns and STARES AT VINCENT until the rest of the class files in. Vincent keeps his eyes turned anywhere but at this Pink Shirt Creep because who stares at somebody over their shoulder for ten solid minutes?

-Albert chalks this up as a victory. Sure, this dude hates him, but that’s more attention than he was getting before!

-For the rest of the class, Vincent is hoping they can just move on and have a normal day in which he knocks every question fired his way out of the park. But that’s not what happens. What happens is this PINK SHIRT ASSHOLE in the front row keeps answering questions without being called on, and not even seriously. With the most MORBID sense of humor.

-Prof: “What are the three ways to study the brain?” Albert: “Smash open the test subject’s skull, rip it out, and have fun.”

-Vincent KNEW the answer was “lesion, stimulation, recording” and he’s so mad.

-He leaves this class grumpy.

-He’s on an alternating schedule, so block A of classes one day, block B the next. His next classes for A day go well and he gets to show off a fair bit of his intellect. But then the last class of block B and it’s art.

-Guess who’s there? Not Victor, unfortunately!

-Vincent walks in the door and THE PINK SHIRT ASSHOLE is there and Albert just waves at him “Hello” and Vincent is in hell.

-Same thing. Albert spends the whole class being obnoxious and annoying, but in a way that gets the other students to laugh. And Vincent just stews.

-Over the next few days, Vincent spends a lot of study time in his room rather than in the library because it’s quieter. Victor respects that Vincent will complain if there’s too much noise and so wears headphones when he’s working because he likes music in the background.

-One day, he accidentally rips the headphone jack out of the laptop and the song he was listening to blares over the dorm. He fixes the volume, already going, “Well, sor-ry for the accident - “

-Vincent: “Actually, I like that song. Have you listened to the album or do you just like it as a standalone?”

-Victor: “I...I saw them in concert, actually.”

-They have the first real conversation they’ve ever had since they moved in together because they ended up liking the same song. And they’re happy to be talking about it. This is good! Maybe they can be friends after all!

-First exam in Psych 101. Vincent feels pretty confident. This is a test he didn’t really put too much effort into studying for because he’s confident he memorized everything from high school. Well...as it turns out, he didn’t. But he fudges it as best he can, sure he’s at least doing better than the simpletons of the class. He’s the only one who takes this seriously, after all.

-Exam results come back, and the prof reveals that he’s graded on a curve. One student and one alone got a 95% on the exam; the rest failed horrendously.

-Vincent is about to rest on his laurels when the prof says “And that person is Albert Krueger.”

-Who the hell is -

-PINK SHIRT ASSHOLE stands up and bows playfully.

-Vincent now has a name for his nemesis. ALBERT KRUEGER. He’ll remember that and not be happy about it.

-So he’s chatting with Victor a lot more now as they hang out. Victor has a problem one day because one of his econ courses has a particularly picky prof who’s failed every single one of his essays to date, and he’s afraid he’s going to actually fail his favorite subject.

-Vincent takes a look at that prof’s notes. To his eyes, it’s easy to see what arbitrary hoops the prof wants Victor to jump through. It’s also easy to see that Victor actually is doing what’s asked of him and grasping the material; the prof just demands these extra trappings, probably as a power trip.

-Vincent knows exactly how to write the next paper to make it fit requirements. And so he says, “If you don’t have a problem with plagiarism, I can get the next one to pass.”

-Victor: “Well, don’t make it too perfect, or they’ll catch on.”

-Vincent writes Victor a solid B- of a paper. And it’s graded with the expected B-. Victor is SO thankful and calls Vincent a genius.

-About time someone around here did. Since it strokes his ego, Vincent offers to do any paper Victor wants for him, free of charge.

-Meanwhile! In art class, they’ve been assigned a midterm visual art project. Vincent can already tell that his piece is...good but not great. You know who’s making a fantastic landscape painting that everyone else in the studio ahhs at every day he works on it? AAAAAALBERT KRUEGER.

-Vincent is trying so hard not to explode.

-Vincent and Victor decide to eat lunch together because they like each other now. They head on down to the cafeteria, load up their plates with food, go to get the last two puddings on the shelf -

-Somebody takes the last two puddings.

-GUESS WHO?

-Albert: “I believe it is they who snooze who must lose.” He didn’t even want two puddings. But while people can get temporarily impressed with his prowess, annoying people is the only way he can REALLY get lasting attention. Most people go “Albert’s painting is so cool!” and leave. Vincent, though? Vincent keeps on making a SCENE out of it and Albert likes that. So he made sure neither Vincent nor Vincent’s friend could have any pudding.

-Vincent and Victor sit down, pudding-less. Victor: “Who was that guy?”

-Vincent explains the whole thing. He rambles for almost the whole lunch period about how much he HATES Albert. Culminating in how he knows that Albert’s art project is going to get highest marks and make Vincent’s look so much worse by its very existence.

-Victor: “You know...I have a plan, but it’s not entirely legal. If you want to get back at him, though...” Vincent: “I’m listening.”

-They break into the locked art studio after hours and RIP ALBERT’S PAINTING INTO SHREDS. That’s, like, twenty hours of work just gone. They leave no evidence.

-The following day, Albert approaches the two of them at lunch: “I know it was you. You can’t lie to me about this. From now on, we are at war. You, Vincent, are my mortal enemy. And you, Vincent’s accomplice, I know were talked into this by him, but you’re on the thinnest of ice.”

-Vincent’s fine with this. Victor thinks it’s funny and doesn’t own up to having come up with the idea.

-Anyway, Vincent and Victor start hanging out more, so when there’s a school dance, they decide to go together. Just as bros, not as PARTNERS what are you even - no. Platonic. Heheheheh

-And they have a good time dancing! Vincent doesn’t normally like this sort of thing, but Victor’s into it, so they’re cutting a rug.

-A small throng of students is gathered in the middle of the floor, watching some spectacle. Victor wants to see what’s going on. So he brings Vincent over.

-Everyone’s watching a particular student just absolutely breakdance with the greatest of skill. And GUESS WHO?

-Vincent enters RAGE MODE

-Victor: “Oh, no, here we go.” (Secretly thinking to himself that Albert did have some sexy moves indeed.)

-Vincent storms in and CHALLENGES ALBERT TO A DANCE-OFF. Albert accepts. Victor calls himself a third competitor so as not to be left out, and Vincent rules that either he or Victor winning will be a victory for Vincent.

-Well, Albert gains more applause by a LANDSLIDE. Vincent and Victor are good dancers, but Albert is FANTASTIC. Vincent complains the rest of the night and Victor’s just “Look, I know he was gorgeous and he got all the attention but please pay attention to me”

-Things continue like this until the next semester, when classes are shuffled and FINALLY Vincent is free of Albert.

-You know who walks in to find Albert just staring creepily at him from the front row of his first class? VICTOR.

-It’s Biology. Right away, the class gets a partner assignment, and the prof sticks Albert and Victor together.

-Might as well make the best of this.

-So they get to just awkwardly chatting. Victor tries to keep himself level-headed. Albert still doesn’t know it was Victor’s idea to destroy his painting. So they’re just playing it cool.

-And...it’s actually kind of fun to talk to one another?

-Albert lets slip that he likes bio a bit better than psych, but everyone’s expecting him to take up the position at Krueger Health Corp. Victor’s just like “So fuck ‘em. Switch majors.”

-Albert then blurts “Have you ever wanted to dismember someone who wronged you?”

-Victor: “Yes. All the time.”

-So for the first time, somebody is giving Albert attention that is NOT rivalry and is NOT just marveling at his talents and antics. This is new. He’s not sure how to handle it.

-For the rest of the semester, Victor is technically on Team Vincent, but he still waves at Albert when they pass on the grounds.

-Vincent and Victor go off campus to a house party with alcohol! Albert doesn’t actually show up to steal the spotlight this time. And...that kinda pisses Vincent off. Where IS he? He usually shows up to these things -

-Victor tells him to pleeeaaaase stop obsessing about Albert, please. (But Victor also kinda wishes he was there and isn’t sure why.)

-Later in the night, some beefy upperclassman starts a fight and threatens Vincent. Vincent and Victor are both buzzed and riled up. Victor jumps in and decks the guy to protect Vincent. The guy decks him right back and HARDER. So Vincent tackles the dude because now HE’S protecting Victor.

-They both end up in the hospital with broken bones. Roommates, again. And when they look at each other across their hospital room, they realize something has changed. That they now know they would defend each other to the death, and each has to repay the loyalty of the other. They’re in this for the long haul, and most certainly not going to request new roommates.

-They get their classwork shipped into the hospital and have some nice calm chats with each other, away from the buzz of student life.

-Albert, however, suddenly has his archnemesis and his lab partner both MISSING and it’s driving him insane. Where are they where are they where are they

-When they get released from the hospital and finally go back to campus, Albert has to refrain from RUNNING UP TO THEM AND HUGGING THEM BOTH. HIS LIFE HAD NO MEANING

-Instead he says “Pity. I’d’ve hoped that you’d die and be out of my hair.”

-Vincent and Victor can’t really admit how much he was the missing piece of their lives either.

-It’s gonna be a few interesting years at RMU.

#vincent edgeworth #victor blake #albert krueger #blakeworther #vincent the secret of myers #vtsom #therapy with dr. albert krueger #twdak

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

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Godddddd I'm so upset that I dislike yen this much, doing main quests in skellige and Freyas ppl were doing stuff and she again disrespected other cultures with Geraly being against, "I may be inhumanly beautiful" I know she's meant to be confident but wowww. She's not confident and worried for Ciri she just comes off arrogant and selfish and vain. Like, fuck.

The ultimate mood, anon. My Witcher fandom life would be so much easier if I enjoyed Yen ... but I just do not lol. Remember how I mentioned that things were going to get even worse than her stealing and using a potentially dangerous artifact? Yeeeaah. She also resurrects Ciri's friend to torture him for information, all while destroying another sacred garden to get the power to do it! It's not even a "She's so evil and I love it 😏" situation for me because the game tries so hard to convince us that she's still The Best. Geralt's sexy soulmate, Ciri's adoring mother, the baddest bitch around who gets things done and does it with an effortless confidence... all while ignoring how horrific her actions and attitude are. Oh sure, other characters speak ill of her at times, but considering how much Geralt is written to adore her, no matter what you choose, that's all undermined. I love morally gray/evil characters, but I've never enjoyed them when the text refuses to appropriately acknowledge that side of them. Nothing is more frustrating to me than a story that frames disliking a character as the unambiguously wrong thing to do, especially when the text is piling up reasons to dislike them and, as a result, ignoring or shrugging them off their actions as not that bad. Yen is a rather extreme example of that for me. Despite her attitude, her choices, and other characters outright going, "Why do you like her?" the story as a whole works under the assumption that it's correct to like her anyway because Geralt loves her. And he loves her for... reasons.

They do meet before the wish, but only just. Major "The Last Wish" spoilers in this paragraph, so feel free to skip. Basically, Geralt and Dandelion run into trouble with a djinn, he goes to Yen for help since she's a sorceress (first time meeting her), he instantly falls for her because she's gorgeous and such (there's an elf there who is also madly in love with Yen. Men just... fall for her, instinctually), she heals Dandelion, Geralt agrees to pay her, but Yen has already decided on the payment she wants. She takes control of Geralt's mind and forces him to attack the town to seek revenge on those who have insulted her, resulting in him waking up in prison awaiting execution for "his" crimes. Meanwhile, Yen has gone after the djinn for herself because power/trying to regain her ability to have a kid. Geralt escapes, finds her failing to master the djinn (an attempt which btw has endangered the whole town) and despite what she's done to him, Geralt tries to get Yen to escape with him. She refuses, set on capturing the djinn even though it's obvious she can't. So as a last resort he uses the final wish to bind their fates together, saving Yen from the djinn in the process. Aaaaaand then they have sex.

So yeah, their rocky relationship is one of the main reasons why I can't enjoy Yen. For some their tumultuous history is evidence of realism, for me it's evidence that they're not actually very compatible and they're only together because a) that's the fantasy trope: protagonist men get together with the hot sorceress and b) because the magic is literally ensuring that they can't escape one another. I mean, canonically their fates are tied together by magic and canonically they spend about 20 years swinging between passionate love and fearsome fights... but there's supposedly no connection between these two things? No chance at all that they keep coming together because magic is drawing them rather than because they actually want/should be together? I wrote a meta a while back about the short story where they meet, which includes a present day scene where Geralt is criticized by another character — Nenneke — for running out on Yen. Thing is, he tries to explain that he left because she was "too possessive" and this is... flat out ignored. By both Nenneke and the fandom. There's a strong trend of ignoring Geralt's words in favor of a pro-Yen interpretation of events. He says he left because she was too possessive and she treated him like ____ — he's not allowed to finish the sentence and say what she treated him like because Nenneke interrupts him, saying she doesn't care about his version of events. Major yikes imo! She turns a claim of being possessive into Geralt not being man enough to stick around. The fandom likewise turns this into a case of Geralt getting cold feet and running out because he's a bastard who hates commitment. Likewise, Nenneke and the fandom claim Geralt is trying to get Yen money as a way of appeasing his guilt for leaving, he claims he's doing it simply because he still cares for her — even if he doesn't want to be with her — and knows she needs it. Geralt's words are frequently dismissed, in the same way others characters' opinions of Yen are dismissed. Any mark against her is treated as either a lie, or a convoluted claim that they don't really know her... never mind that an understanding of why she may act this way doesn't excuse the behavior itself. (Plus, the whole "Yen had a horrible upbringing, so of course she struggles being kind" perspective always fell flat to me when so many, including witchers, had horrendous upbringings too. The whole point is this world is a mess and most everyone suffers). It's supposedly true love, yet if someone came up to me and went, "I magically tied my fate to this woman to keep her from getting herself killed and we've spent the last couple decades having what many would term a rocky relationship, to put it kindly. I left once because she was too controlling. She once cheated on me. I likewise hooked up with others during our frequent breakups. A mutual friend used magic to get me to have sex with her — also while my lover and I were broken up — and though I view it as a dumb decision I'm happy to forgive her for, my lover is ready to commit murder because again: possessive. A lot of the time we're only a family because of our daughter. I once thought she'd horrifically betrayed us both. She didn't, but it says something that I was so ready to believe it, huh? Hmm? Permanently separated? Of course not! I love her. We're destined to be together after all :)" I'd be like, "Uh... you sure about that, dude?"

Not that Geralt doesn't make his fair share of mistakes in the relationship — he absolutely does — but I don't think it helps his case that he's immature in other ways and, frankly, that he's a very strong, badass witcher. It's easy to turn the hints we get about their relationship into a simplistic "emotionally naive man can't give the poor woman the commitment she wants" situation. Given Geralt's status as the badass fighter of the tale, it's likewise easy to dismiss his admissions of her being "possessive" and his general discomfort. He's the man. He's the witcher. If he's making any claims about how Yen isn't treating him well, they must be excuses, or exaggerations, because real men, especially physically powerful men, would do something about that — a something that's not sneaking out in the middle of the night. A lot of people read Geralt leaving as the ultimate proof that he's an immature bastard who doesn't deserve her. I read him leaving and think, "What were you trying to get away from? What was going on that made you think you could only leave by sneaking out without a word?" To me, that doesn't read as someone who felt safe, comfortable, and respected enough to do anything but slip away and try to wash his hands of things. And I'm not just pulling this "Geralt is at least somewhat afraid of Yen and isn't comfortable establishing boundaries with her" reading out of my ass. When Yen wants Geralt to kill the golden dragon for her and he refuses, saying he doesn't care anymore, his thoughts are:

He expected the worst: a cascade of flames, flashes of lightning, blows raining down on his face, insults and curses. There was nothing. He saw, with astonishment, only the subtle trembling of her lips. Yennefer turned around slowly. Geralt regretted his words.

And everyone is like, "See! Yen has improved so much. Geralt nearly made her cry, but she's supposed to be the bad guy here?" Meanwhile, I'm going, "Uh... anyone want to unpack why he expects fire, lightning, insults, curses, and blows to his face for telling her no? Why he's astonished that she wouldn't use her magic against him? Anyone think that Yen refraining from attacking Geralt when he refuses to murder on her command is a pretty low bar? No? Just me?"

Geralt and Yen's relationship makes me uncomfortable and a great deal of that discomfort derives from how much of the Witcher fandom shrugs off the fictional warning signs. I mean, I post primarily about RWBY. We watched a man in that show try to sneak away with his kids when his villainous wife planned to use them for a eugenics plan... and the fandom still blames him for that, refusing to admit that he was in an abusive relationship. Because that doesn't happen to men, right? I'm not saying it's the same for Geralt and Yen, simply because they are written to be soulmates. An abusive relationship was, quite obviously, never the authorial intent. However, I am saying that the a "This isn't a healthy relationship" reading is there, it exists as an interpretation, and both the story and fandom's tendency to dismiss it is something that hasn't helped me enjoy Yen's status as an otherwise well written, complex character. Their equality supposedly stems in part because they're both so flawed, yet each time I see a list of Geralt's supposedly equal faults they're... lacking imo. "Geralt bound himself to Yen without her consent." Yeah, to save her from dying from the djinn she was trying to enslave, after she refused to leave, while her actions threatened a whole town. "Geralt ran off without a word." Mmm hmm, anyone care about why? And my personal favorite is a scene you may not have gotten to yet (or may not get depending on your choices), but suffice to say, Yen is supposedly justified in physically attacking Geralt if he dares to challenge her in any way. That's the main takeaway across the fandom: If Yen is pissed off, you must have done something to deserve it which, in the relationship deliberately written to be "stormy," is something that sets all the alarm bells in my head off. Honestly, it kinda makes my skin crawl to go, "Geralt didn't deserve that" and get responses back of, "Yeah he did because he [insert basic human action here]." The Witcher world is hard and cruel, absolutely, but that doesn't mean I personally enjoy seeing an equally messed up relationship presented as something that's enviable in its flaws. "That's actually true love because the magically bound man who often expresses discomfort with his lover, written by a male author with a very iffy perspective on women, says it's true love." Crazy theory here, but... maybe it's not?

Idk, lots of rambling on my end tonight! For me, Geralt/Yen reads as something rather tragic which, in a canon that unironically upholds the relationship, and in a Yen-adoring fandom, doesn't make enjoying her character any easier. I keep coming back to Witcher 3, the comics, the show, even the books going, "Maybe I'll like her this time?" but nope, still trying lol.

#witcher #mymetas

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foundouthatdabiistouyatodoroki · 4 years ago

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victimhood is complicating, people oversimplify and sensationalized rather than talk a deep look at how the victim’s feel. In reality, its complex and hard to pin point. The line between right and wrong are blurred. this can be true especially its hard to describe if you view these three people tomura,dabi and hawks. despite their own horrendous actions they’re fundamentally victims, this isn’t supposed to excuse their actions but show how their wronged and feel when they were treated. its messy

One thing I know is that victimhood is not simple. If you looked at the chapters, Hawks show us how complicating victimhood is. When we think of victimhood we think of Eri. To the people of BNHA’s world (and readers) victims are timid and meek, not people like Tomura, Hawks, and Dabi. Yet one thing these people all have in common is that they had no control of their circumstances and how they reacted to it, even if the reaction isn’t considered typical for what people associated with “victims.”

Unlike Eri, both Tomura and Dabi react by lashing out at the society that wronged them. If you looked at the above three, they are fundamentally victims and yes, responsible for their actions, but despite their own vile actions, villains are still victimized by the current system. Villains were created in response to hero society.

Victimhood is being oversimplified by hero society. People tend to simplify rather than put emphasis with the victims as individuals. They never try thinking about the complexities of the person that they are dealing with in front of them. When people simplify, all they do is take away the complexity of the individual, reducing their humanity in the process. Abuse is fundamentally a reduction of humanity through denying another human autonomy, compassion, and safety. Whenever you oversimplify, you don’t want to understand who they are as people. All people are complex individuals and in truth peoples’ complexity is what gives us individuality and free will and feelings in the first place. Human beings have so many layers to them, and taking away those nuances of what makes them people is like taking away a person’s individuality. Understanding and empathizing with others that are victims includes accepting their complexities and that things are not as simple as you make them out to be.

The characters in BNHA don’t empathize with the villain mainly because they didn’t see anything wrong with hero society. As Tomura stated, they are incapable of ever understanding since they never really notice what was wrong with society and they don’t notice the people that fell through the cracks.

Tomura is a victim of hero society and knows he’s a victim. Hes dealt with his feelings by lashing out at the same society that failed him. Nobody helped Tenko after he murdered his family. They noticed Tenko wandering the streets. They had the option to help but chose to do nothing . They were completely complacent in Tenko’s pleas, instead using the term “hero” as an excuse for their complacency. They had the option to help but choose not to the reason why for this is to them Tenko didn’t look like a victim, plus the real reason why they are worried to get involved with something such as this is that this might cause them to lose the comfort and security of their current lives: no one is going to risk their cozy life for a stranger they just met. Victims are unpleasant; people don’t want to look at them. They choose to ignore all for the sake of their security

This marks Tomura a victim not only but AFO but also of society.

Let’s look closer at Hawks and Tomura. They are hero and villain, but harbor many similarities to each other as victims. Both were exploited by their respective abusers when they were at their most vulnerable as children, with Hawks who were in poverty and Tenko who was wandering the streets after he killed his family. Then, AFO and the hero commission found the theme and molded them into tools. They both had their real names taken from them to be tools for their said abusers. Tenko Shimura to Tomura Shigaraki by AFO symbolizes AFO’s control over him, using him not only as his heir to get revenge on All Might, but to also get OFA from him. Keigo Takami became Hawks the hero to become a convenient tool. His hero identity that was given to him by his handlers and is just another way to control him. Tomura’s been exploited by AFO and Hawks by the hero commission; both have lost their identities and personhoods to be convent tools for their abusers.

Hawks would argue that he chose to be a hero out of his own will, even stating that hewillingly stained himself to save lives. If you see Hawks as a child he is used by these people in the flashbacks, the term these people use is “special” which is used by abusers to groom victims. This is a type of brainwashing called conditioning that abusers use to lure victims into thinking that they choose their own path. These people used the word “special” to condition him. Hawks had been exploited by these people at his childhood by using his desire for being a hero against him.

Now let’s look at AFO. AFO didn’t reject Tomura as a person, unlike his family, did when wanted to be a hero, but that acceptance can be seen as disguising as some sort of extortion. Though AFO’s gestures seem compassionate on the surface, his actions show he is saying sugary words to have a firm grip on someone. His actions mirror Hawks’ handlers.

So, Tomura himself is a victim but no one acknowledges it because he doesn’t fit their criteria of what a victim is.

I previously mentioned that Dabi is a victim as well but how does Dabi fit in the equation of being a victim of society? Dabi (if Touya) is the victim of Endeavor’s abuse. Hero society praised Endeavor as a hero all the while he abused his family in the shadows and caused his accident which readily soured his view on heroes and the rest of hero society. This is why Dabi followed Stain’s ideology. Unlike Stain who believe in true heroes, Dabi doesn’t believe that a true hero exists. Dabi may claim he wants to make a true hero society like Stain, but in reality this is just an excuse to cover his real emotions: he wants to burn it all down.

For starters, people couldn’t see Dabi as a victim because Dabi can’t cry. Since his tear ducts are burned, he cannot express the emotion that people would associate victims with.

As much as Dabi tries to say heroes are not as good as what they make themselves be, no one is going to listen. No one even wants to listen, since they idolize heroes too much to see their flaws.

So, since Hawks knows all the flaws of society and he’s a victim, why doesn’t he acknowledge this? Well,I read in a post that someone did that Hawks is disillusioned by heroism. You see his kind of attitude of this at the billboard speech when he tells the heroes aren’t doing their jobs to sell heroism. Hawks grew up in poverty-stricken (in the panels you can see his background littered with all the empty bottles). He never had any faith in society until Endeavor saved him, After he was saved by Endeavor and himself saved that family from a speeding accident, he was taken in by the hero commission and enrolled in the special program to be their tool. Hawks was already disillusioned with society before he was taken in by the hero commission. Hawks views heroism to escape from his unfortunate situation. Ge sees heroism as a way out of his impoverished situation since there could be things that are far worse than what he was in. He was already disillusioned from the start and especially well aware he’s used by the hero commission to do dirty work. Hawks never admits this because he views heroism as a way out all the while knowing it is flawed. It was the only option he had at that time. Hawks knows he’s trapped but thinks it would be much worse than being where he started. Hawks is a victim of the hero society that builds itself on false heroism.

The way Hawks offered Jin a way out the same thing with him when he was offered by the hero commission. He thinks that they are things far worse than what he is in now. Hawks offering Jin a way out all the while not acknowledging his feelings and the failure of hero society in general means that Hawks is unable to emphasize with Twice. When he cornered Twice, Hawks does not admitting his victimhood is what made him unable to emphasize with Twice, the literal victim. This is what caused Twice to call Hawks out for not being a hero. Hawks tells himself that he’s doing this for the greater good, all the while knowing that he’s a tool used by the hero commission.

Hawks were already disillusioned with hero society and had never held any hope it, Endeavor was what he believed in and he followed this hero whom he only had faith and gave him hope in a failing society. But what will happen if he finds out the truth?

That’s where Dabi comes in, revealing the truth in a black bubble shattering Hawk’s world view and forcing Hawks to perhaps admit his victimhood. Why is Hawks finding out Dabi’s identity before anyone else important? Think back to how Hawks’ faith in Endeavor means a lot to him. It helped him get out of a bad situation and have hope in society. When he finds out that Endeavor abused his family and the reveal of Dabi being Touya Todoroki, a villain of the same hero that saved him, that revelation will cause him to question everything he’s ever done up this point: not just to question Endeavor but also himself and his place in society.

What was everything I have done ever for? Did I make the right choices? Did I make things worse? Is everything I’ve done turn out to be worse than better? Did I make mistakes? Was society ever worth protecting? Did everything I worked so hard towards turned out to be lies? Was everything I believed in a lie?

Look at this quote from My Dark Vanessa, “It has to be a love story. If it isn’t then what is it?”

What about the victims if they confess their abuser at the risk of a personal cost? People never think of the victims and their feelings regarding confessions. We praise them for coming forward with the abuse, but society does not consider the sacrifice of the personal cost a confession has on the victims.

Hawk’s entire identity is based on his hero image.For Hawks, this would cost him his entire identity since being a hero is what he defines himself as. Hawks discovering the truth and forcing him to reflect on what he truly believes in. It will be like losing that identity that he built his life on.

This is why Hawks don’t want to admit he’s a victim: it’s admitting everything he believed or knew is a lie even himself. Even if someone is a victim they don’t want to think they are victims; neither does Hawk.

Looking at these characters you begin to see that when it comes down to it they are people. The main reason why we don’t see these people as victims is that we never really explore the complexity that came with other people and that it is nuanced, complicated, and very individualistic. The way these characters react is incredibly human despite their quirks.

Looking at the most unsatisfactory part of people is how we truly can empathize with the victims; even those who lash out deserve the same level of understanding and empathy that anyone should have.

#bnha spoilers #my meta #meta #asks #ask #my ask #my asks #Thank you Hamliet~#Dabi

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twstdreams · 5 years ago

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hi there! May I request a vil! s/o x dorm leaders where the reader steals all their magic and harms them :0 thank you so much ♡♡

Later clarified: Villainous!reader, not Vil’s S/O and only unique magic is stolen

Warning: Azul’s portion contains spoilers for episode 3, and side story spoiler for Vil’s part

Riddle Rosehearts

You feign incompetence about Practical Magic. You do so well with ancient incantations but you just can’t get things to move how they’re supposed to!

You humbly ask your dorm leader for help and promise not to complain no matter how strict Riddle is

Riddle lectures you on almost failing a course but internally he is glad you reached out for help rather than having him hunt you down

You gasp as an incorrect spell slips past your lips and targets Riddle. Riddle can immediately feel something is wrong as a wave of your magic washes over him.

You screech and bolt, saying that you’ll go get Trey or an upper-year. Riddle orders you to stop but you continue running. At this point, he shouts “Off with your head!” to stop this madness

Except nothing happens

Riddle keeps casting his spell again and again, more frantic each time it fails

Then he becomes red with rage. You stole his magic! He screams while ordering you to give it back. Instead, you stick out your tongue and disappear around the corner, but not before casting a wind spell that sends him flying backwards

Without fail, Riddle enlists all of the Heartslabyul students to find and capture you

Riddle becomes a dangerous mixture of fear and fury. He must find you or else... Well, he cannot think about horrendous consequences that would follow, nothing short of his future being destroyed. Riddle won’t allow it, he can’t afford to.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona hears hurried footsteps, someone hastily running away as he awakes from his nap

He catches a glimpse of your backside but doesn’t think much of it. Some herbivore got scared of his presence and ran, big deal

But there’s something off. His instinct senses it and his mind tries to find clues to confirm or reject his feeling

Leona notices a little prick on his arm, one he’s sure that wasn’t there before. He didn’t nap near any prickly plants, so how did this happen?

His eyes land on an herb, used in ancient incantations and curses, one that he knows NRC doesn’t cultivate because of its dangers and costs

He growls and tests out his magic. The basics seem to work but when he tries to turn a nearby flower to sand, nothing happens

Leona lets out a ferocious roar and immediately tries to follow your scent. You were smart, the garden is filled with too many fragrant species for him to be able to pick out your trace

Suddenly, a wave of nausea hits him as a magic circle appears before his feet. The clever lion breaks the spell but it only adds to his anger

Leona wastes no time in delivering orders to the rest of Savanaclaw, not letting anyone know that his magic was stolen but simply that you had transgressed greatly against Savanaclaw. He probably says you insulted Savanaclaw or were actively trying to sabotage them

He has Jack try to follow your scent and Ruggie find any information possible

You’ve provoked the wrong person and Leona is determined to teach you that. He might be lazy but he wouldn’t let this go. He was going to take back his unique magic and let you taste firsthand why it frightened so many of the servants back home

Malleus Draconia

He should have known better. Of course, it was cursed. You claimed you wanted to share friendship bracelets with the dorm leader and he let his amusement get the best of him.

Oh? What an odd custom but he supposes he’ll indulge you for a while. It seems harmless enough, your questionable craftsmanship showing through uneven knots. You were even wearing a matching one yourself.

Later, as the spell activates when you are far from his reach, Malleus realizes too late your true malicious intentions

Prepare to pay the price

This is an act of war. Malleus is the ruler of the Valley of Thorns and he won’t let you get away with this. The implications of such an act are enormous.

It’s almost impressive if it wasn’t so unbelievably dangerous, for both him and you. While he’s still a strong magician regardless of his unique magic, it’s still important to him and dangerous in the wrong hands. You’re not quite safe either, his unique magic isn’t something just anyone can use and it puts you in danger of overblotting.

Malleus wanted a friend but it seems he’s gotten an enemy instead. The injury isn’t severe for the strong fae but the wound to his heart and pride are far greater. He wonders if he being less open and crueller would have prevented this predicament. The repercussions of losing his powers and what that means considering his position are not lost

There is an immediate hunt for you that won’t end until you’re captured and Malleus has his magic returned. Naturally, Lilia, Silver, Sebek, and many school members will join the hunt, but if it’s not resolved quickly then fae from his homeland will be brought in too

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is oh so careful. His long contracts are proof as much. He thinks it’s any normal contract, you a stupid unfortunate student that needs some help for Trein’s upcoming history test

He tells you to read the terms and conditions, which you move to your lap to read. You read the first page, skim the next, and he can tell by the fourth page you’re not really paying attention anymore. You rapidly flip the pages, fingers tracing a line or two before you inevitably give up and sign the last page

You thank him with a singsong voice and happily accept his study guide. He thanks you in return for your business and you’re both on your merry way.

Except when he opens his vault, it’s empty. He has the most horrid sense of deja vu. He runs out of his office and demands that Floyd chase after you only to find out you’ve already left the dorm

Once he explains the situation to Jade, the vice dorm leader tries to ensure that Azul doesn’t overblot again while providing Floyd with enough information to track you down

Azul and Jade pour over the contract he just made with you to extract anything that could help them locate you or expose a weakness when Azul nearly shrieks. A clause in the contract has been changed! When? How?! You must have somehow altered the contract with your own magic! That should be impossible yet it was his current reality

Azul is incapable of resting until you’re found. He worked so hard to perfect his unique magic. He thought that losing the contracts was horrid but this was even worse.

He’s teetering on the edge, trying his best not to break down, but it’s dangerous and no one in the Octavinelle dorm feels safe. He knows rationally that he still has his alchemy skills along with his normal magic but Azul feels sick to his stomach without his beloved unique magic

Vil Schoenheit

You came to him between classes on an off chance where he was alone. You explain that you were from Octavinelle and Azul was hoping Vil would test his new lotion! Vil rarely did work for free but last time he had requested some skincare from Azul it had worked out wonderfully, so he decided to accept

A week later, Vil had an unbearable stomach ache. Given Vil strictly controlled his diet and routine, he immediately deduced something was wrong with the lotion as it was the only recent change. After receiving some help from Rook and accessing some medical supplies, the pain passed but Vil’s rage did not

As an act of comfort or some semblance of control, Vil attempted to use his unique magic only to find it fail him. Vil worked hard to improve his unique magic, so to have it fail him sent the magician storming Octavinelle

He demands an explanation from Azul only to find out that every single word you spilled was a lie. Vil does his best to stay in control but fury runs through his veins unchecked. He clenches his hands hard enough to draw blood

Vil demands Rook hunt you down and bring you grovelling before his knees like the traitor you are. He plans to use his knowledge in potions to ensure you experience a blood-curdling punishment that will teach you a lesson permanently

Vil is not above using his large social media gathering to gain information about you, though he might tailor the story he tells his followers, simply telling them that you had transgressed against him

Vil’s mood becomes unstable. He is used to being in control and for his hard work to be rewarded but your little scheme threatens everything. This is nothing short of a nightmare that he plans on ending no matter what

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland headcanon #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia #vil schoenheit #azul ashengrotto #twstdreams #twisted dreams

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shining-m00nlight · 4 years ago

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First Love (2)

This is a second part of “First Love” my modern Au young Nedlyn story and it’s for @leialannister because she asked for it twice and I finally found the time to write more in this universe. I hope you like it.

"Are you ready?", he asked in his deep northern voice.

"Mmh", Cat nodded.

"One, two, three", Ned counted and then she was lifted up from their bed into her husband's strong arms. Immediately she placed her head on his shoulder. Even holding her own head up right was an exhausting activity nowadays.

Ned walked through the door into the adjoining bathroom. It was hot and steamy inside and Cat could smell the sweet flowery scent coming from the water. Ned knelt down, which wasn't an easy task with her in his arms, so she was able to reach the water with her hand. It had the perfect temperature. Ned would call it boiling hot but she called it the minimum temperature a bath should have.

"Does it feel right?" her darling asked in a soft voice.

"Everything is great, my love. Just help me get into the tub."

So she was lifted up again and over the edge of the tub into the warmth. Ned grabbed her under the arms so he could hold her upright as he climbed into the tub himself to sit behind her. He pulled her close and she sank against him.

She finally relaxed knowing that she was safe in his arms. She sometimes couldn't believe that she was actually here with Ned sitting naked behind her in her childhood home at the age of 20.

Their own apartment was empty while they lived in Riverrun waiting for her death. If she died here and Ned could move back into their apartment without being burdened by the memory of her lifeless body everywhere. Then he could also finally concentrate on his studies properly. He had stopped going to college last year. Ned had told her he wanted to take a break but Cat knew it was a lie and he actually did it because of her and her illness. She felt terrible thinking about it.

She had known that she was being selfish when she asked Ned to marry her but the last year made her feel like she robbed Ned of a good life. The first year of their marriage had been a bliss. Ned had started studying law and she had done a lot of community service. Continuing to study just didn't make any sense for her and keeping a job with her being so sick was just impossible.

But then her situation changedI for the worse. Instead of her regular hospital visits for her treatment she had collapsed in the middle of a restaurant and was hospitalized. She had stayed in the hospital for 8 months with Ned almost constantly by her side never wanting her to feel alone.

She had numerous operations and experimental procedures done, it was the doctors and her family's desperate attempt to keep her living longer than it was intended for her. After all of these things failed, she was sent home to die. That's when Ned and she moved into her old childhood home.

She first didn't like this idea at all. But she realised that her father desperately tried to have some time with her before she would leave this world behind, that this way Ned did not have to carry the burden of caring for her all by himself and he would not be alone when she died.

Of course her family wouldn't be the biggest comfort to him but she couldn't shake the image of Ned standing in their apartment alone next to her body and this way there was at least somebody there with him. She had her uncle Brynden promise her that he would call Ned's father as soon as she died, as Ned would not do so himself.

She wasn't quite sure how Ned felt about living with her father, uncle, brother and sister. He had told her he thought it was a good thing that she would be close to her family and he would happily do what would bring her the most joy but she wished they could do what would bring them both the most joy.

Luckily their living space was separated enough from the rest of her family that they had their privacy.

She opened her eyes again as Ned began to wash her body. Like almost everything now she loved and hated it at the same time. She loved the feeling of the warm water of laying skin to skin with Ned and of Ned's hand caressing her naked body carefully. But it also reminded her of how little she could do now, how weak she felt, how she needed help to even do everyday activities like taking a bath and how her husband had to fill the role of a nurse rather than a husband. Ned never complained about anything though, not about living with her family, not about having his studies interrupted, not about taking care of her and not even about the lack of sex their marriage was having.

It has been over a year since the last time they made love and it sucked. Obviously they couldn't have done it in the hospital especially with her constantly having to heal from one or another operation. When she was released they had tried but she was just sore all the time and a touch that was anything but light as feathers hurt her skin. What used to be a comforting weight on top of her now felt like she was being crushed under it and she was too exhausted to do any of the work.

After a few truly horrendous tries Ned had refused to try again. This had hurt her more than she was willing to admit. Logically she knew it was because he didn't wanna hurt her but she couldn't ban the thought that he just wasn't attracted to her anymore. She had lost her true beauty a long time ago when she started to get sick but the last year gave her even more surgical scars, she got thinner to a point that could just be described as sickly and even her skin looked wrong and old. Ned still told her she was beautiful but one look in the mirror revealed the truth to her.

Another thing that made her feel guilty for having asked Ned to marry her was that this was not a life a twenty year old young man should have.

"What deep thoughts are plaguing you my love?", he asked her.

"Oh nothing", she tried to dismiss his question.

"I can see that something is troubling you. Please tell me. I would like to help if I could."

Cat moved her arms through the water, making little splashes to listen to the sound of the water.

"Do you regret marrying me?", she asked in a very small voice.

Like on instinct Ned pulled her closer: "Not for one second. Why would you ever believe such a thing?"

"Because this is not a life you should have my love. You're twenty years old, you should be out partying with Robert, living on crappy food, flirting with beautiful women and worrying about passing exams and not having to take care of a sick wife, you should not be responsible to feed, wash and comfort me"

"As appealing as eating crappy food and making sure Robert doesn't throw up sounds. I'm pretty sure it was in my marriage vows that I should do these things. Something about in sickness and in health. I'm not sure if you remember that part."

"But maybe those vows should have never have happened", she whispered.

"Cat?", his voice was now filled with insecurity: "Do…, do you wish that you had never married me?"

She tried to turn around as best as she could and took his face into her hands. It was an awkward angel and it kind of hurt but she needed to look him in the eyes to make sure he understood what she had to say next.

"No, no, not for a moment have or will I ever wish that I was not married to you! I just want you to be happy and I'm afraid that my being sick is taking that from you!"

"It will" Cat could have sworn she could see his heart break through his eyes.

"You being sick will take you from me. And when you leave so will my happiness. But not having this time with you now would just rip my heart in two pieces sooner and the thought of not using every moment the Gods granted us is unbearable. You are my love and my happiness."

"You are mine too but Ned please try to find happiness when I'm gone even if it seems hard…" she took a moment.

"I wish we could have had a lifetime together. Just imagine us in our own house with our beautiful children. But you're right we should concentrate on what we have and the moments we have left."

Cat now turned back around, her position had made her feel tired and weak to the bones. She leaned back into his arms again so she could feel his heart beating against his ribcage. It comforted her and made her feel calm.

As she closed her eyes once more she said: "Ned? Thank you for loving me so I have had enough love for a lifetime"

She never opened her eyes again.

#nedlyn #ned x catelyn #ned x cat #ned stark #catelyn stark #catelyn tully #game of thrones #ao3 fanfic

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dreamiehrs · 5 years ago

Text

lovin’ on repeat series: dance, baby! ➛ l.dh

genre: some fluff, mainly angst, college!au, jealousy, comedy, gender neutral reader

pairing: lee donghyuck x reader

word count: 2,710 words

warning(s): some swearing, drinking

summary: donghyuck was less than happy when his good friend and local hotshot, named na jaemin, dragged him out of his dorm room and to one of his frat parties of his. however, when he catches sight of you, dancing without a worry in the world and laughing with your friends, he realizes that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to go, after all.

note: hi guys!!! hope u enjoy this fic based off of the song dance, baby! by boy pablo. I love that song by him so much, and I feel like it would fit hyuck the best with how upbeat the song is!! I hope you guys are still looking forward to the other member’s fics, and please let me know if you guys enjoyed this fic of mine :-)

tag list: @notaroyal @angeldreamies @amorcita @nicolettalauren @wooqzi @lovelycharm05 @staymoarmyzen @neolights @florence-cvrt @mimika-28 (send me an ask if you wanna be added onto the tag list!)

➫ masterlist

lee donghyuck had no idea what he was doing here. well, that was actually a complete lie, if he was being honest. his hotshot friend, named na jaemin, had dragged him to his frat party after donghyuck had cooped himself up in his dorm room after failing one of his chemistry tests. don’t even get him started on his professor for that class, he honestly hated his professor’s guts (and everything relating to science, too). he may have shed a few tears after failing that test since it was around 20% of his entire grade, and he barely even had a B in that class, so if he ended up failing that class his parents were going to whoop his ass (and no, he wasn’t being dramatic. his parents would kill him if he failed another science class again).

but besides his dramatic retelling of failing his chemistry test, his friend had still somehow convinced him to dress up a little nice and attend his frat party to brighten up his mood. donghyuck had doubted that going to one of jaemin’s disgusting frat parties would remotely do anything to brighten up his already sour mood. failing the test was one thing, but spilling his entire drink of boba on himself and his stylish outfit was another thing that made him just want to scream out at the universe. however, he would definitely get room complaints and his roommate would have a huge fit if he did so, and he, therefore, let out all of his aggravation by playing rounds and rounds of Overwatch until jaemin dragged him out of his despair (and his dorm room).

jaemin even had the nerve to just throw clothes at him and told him to “try them on and see if you can make a decent enough outfit to woo somebody with tonight.” donghyuck loved his friend, he really did, but tonight he just wanted to bodyslam jaemin down until they reach the core of the earth. alright, he admits that that idea is a little too extreme, but who says he can’t make that idea a reality? he can just hear renjun now, saying his idea is ridiculous until he finally gives in and decides to help donghyuck bodyslam jaemin together.

coming back to reality, though, donghyuck was standing in the corner of the living room awkwardly, holding a cup full of coca-cola as he people-watched while occasionally taking a sip of his carbonated drink. he’s been at the party for about an hour and a half now, and even though it was entertaining to eavesdrop into others conversations and learn all the gossip about michael cheating on his girlfriend with another girl named jessica, but after a while, it began to bore him. even worse, he couldn’t locate jaemin after jaemin had walked right into his frat house with donghyuck by his side, and within 15 minutes, his dear best friend was nowhere to be found. this wasn’t unusual, however, because whenever donghyuck attended one of his friend’s frat parties, jaemin would go missing under 20 minutes, probably smooth-talking anyone who showed the least amount of interest in him.

the music playing wasn’t that great either, it was some shitty pop radio that someone had searched up on Spotify. donghyuck didn’t have anything against pop music, by the way, but the songs that were just playing right now were… horrendous, to say the least. they made him want to plug his ears for the rest of the night and just blast his playlist all night.

oh, did he mention that it was night yet? well, it was around midnight already, and he was doing his best to fight back his sleepiness with his soda. staying up wasn’t that rare for him, in fact, he almost did it every night with how much college was kicking his ass and how playing video games would help him just chill out. also, it didn’t help his sleep deprivation when his roommate was a hardcore gamer, too, and the two of them would stay up until 3 am playing Overwatch numerous nights of the week.

although the party almost was boring him to death right now, almost enough to make him just walk out of the front door and head back to his dorm to play more video games, he couldn't find it in himself to do so when he caught sight of you.

you were standing in the middle of the living room, conversing with your friends with a red solo cup in your hand with a dazzling smile shown on your lips. he was starstruck as he watched you from afar, his eyes never leaving your figure as you start to slowly sway your hips to the song playing. he suddenly became self-conscious of what he was wearing, and he looks down at himself to see his black and white plaid flannel, white graphic tee, dark ripped jeans, and dark cherry red Doc Martens. well, he didn't look too shabby, he thought to himself before taking a sip of his drink to find that his cup was empty.

shit, the only way to get to the kitchen was to pass by you and the 50 other people who were dancing like their life depended on it. doing parkour would be easier than this shit, he thought to himself before sighing and making his way towards your direction. he couldn't find it in himself to walk up to you, say at least a greeting or a small "hi" before he finally reaches the kitchen. he frowns and scrunches his nose as the smell of alcohol fills his senses, and he could never understand why people his age liked getting drunk so much until they couldn’t even speak properly.

he shakes his head at the thought and fills his solo cup to the brim with coca-cola, and he takes a big gulp of it to make sure he doesn't end up spilling his drink all over the floor by accident. however, that almost happens when he chokes on his drink when he hears someone whisper in his ear: "woo anybody yet?"

he turns to his left to be met with jaemin, the one who had abandoned him to go make out with someone, which was quite evident from the red lipstick marks on his neck and how his lips look more red than usual. he takes note at how messed up jaemin's pink locks are, and rolls his eyes at his friend's antics. "no, I haven't 'wooed' anybody yet unlike you, jaem."

jaemin chuckles as he clinks his cup with donghyuck before taking a long swig of his drink. donghyuck did not doubt that there was some sort of alcohol in that cup, as jaemin would occasionally stumble a bit over his own 2 feet. "damn right I did. you should've seen her, man. she was all over me, and she was such a great kisser, too, oh my gosh. I just had to come over here and tell you about it." he boasts, and donghyuck can see his cheeks lightly turn pink as he rambles on about his little make out.

"...well? what happened to the girl?"

jaemin’s face slightly falls after donghyuck asks that question. "oh. I said something about exchanging numbers and eventually going on a date and scared her off. once I said that she quickly made an excuse as to why she had to leave and ran off."

donghyuck laughs as he leans against the counter beside jaemin, his eyes wandering back over to where you were to see a guy making his way up to you. his breath hitches as he watches him snake an arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer beside him. donghyuck zones in on the both of you, and he hate how he can feeling jealousy pool into his veins the longer he stares down the guy beside you, and if it wasn’t for jaemin waving a hand in donghyuck’s face and saying “earth to donghyuck?” a thousand times, he would’ve been in a trance for hours.

he shakes his head as jaemin furrows his eyebrows at his friend’s suspicious behavior, and takes it upon himself to see what was up. his eyes settle on a tall, dark-haired guy with his arm wrapped around someone, and he lets out a little “oh” and the sight. he swivels around to face donghyuck with a teasing grin on his face, and this is another reason as to why donghyuck just wants to leave this disaster of a party. “well... does little hyuck have a crush on someone? hm~?” he scoots closer next to his friend, whose face resembled a tomato with how flustered he was right now.

he swats away at his friend’s hand that was pinching his cheek, rolling his eyes once again at his friend’s antics and poking his tongue onto the inside of his cheek. “well, thanks for giving me another reason to go back and hibernate in my dorm room for the night, jaem. now if you excuse me, I’m leaving now. see ya.”

he takes a step towards the entrance before jaemin’s arm is latched onto his. “wait! hyuck, I’ll help you get their attention. come here.” he insists and places both of his hands on donghyuck’s shoulders before jaemin leads him in your direction.

donghyuck’s eyes go wide at how persistent jaemin was, and he whispers: “no, jaem, stop it. that guy is still right there beside them.” however, jaemin is too focused on getting donghyuck to woo someone tonight, especially someone who he’s attracted to, and doesn’t process his words until the two of them are standing close by you.

“ahem.” jaemin clears his throat, and donghyuck wants to just disappear right then and there as your head turns towards him and jaemin, and the guy beside you practically glares down at him and donghyuck as his arm slightly tightens around your shoulder. your eyes meet jaemin before glancing over to donghyuck, and you’re temporarily awestruck by how his eyes seemed to glimmer when the two of you met eyes. it takes you a minute to realize that that’s not what you’re here for, to be drawn to any guy that has a fashion sense and is pretty attractive. you didn’t have the time in your busy schedule to fawn over boys who would just steal your heart and run away with it.

“yes?” you question, an eyebrow raised as your eyes gloss over donghyuck’s facial features and the prominent eyebrow piercing that seemed to make him even more attractive than before. you momentarily forget that the guy that you’ve been romantically talking to is standing right by your side, his left arm possessively wrapped around your shoulder. your friends are having their own fun somewhere else, feeling bored after these two random guys came up to you and ruined the party for them. however, you knew that if they gave these two guys a chance, they would fall head over heels for them. both of them were your friends type, and even though that may be the case, it seemed that one of the guys only had eyes for you.

jaemin nudges donghyuck, and you hold back a smile as you see the dark-haired boy roll his eyes at his friend, clearly annoyed at what situation his friend had involved him in right now. “well, my friend over here, named donghyuck, has been eyeing you all night, so I think it’s safe to say that he has the hots for you. I mean, I even caught him in the act earlier! he wouldn’t stop staring at you with hearts in his eyes–”

jaemin is interrupted with a swift jab to the side of his stomach from donghyuck’s elbow, and he doubles over as donghyuck gives you a small smile. “well, if you’ll excuse us two, I will be escorting this pretty boy back to the kitchen so he can sober up.” he gives you and the intimidating guy beside you a nod before wrapping jaemin’s arm around his shoulder and lugging him back to the kitchen. you watch as he does so, your eyes never leaving his figure as some of you hoped that he would actually ask you to dance with him.

“jaem, did you just lose your fucking mind back there?! what the fuck were you planning to happen when you told them that?!” donghyuck whisper-shouts to jaemin when the two of them are back in the kitchen, making sure he’s out of your sight as he turns his back towards you. although he was mildly upset at how jaemin basically exposed his thoughts about you right in front of your face, he was also the tiniest amount of hopeful that you would come barging in here to get to know him more. however, that isn’t likely to happen as donghyuck glances back in your direction, to see you laughing up a storm with the tall guy beside you.

he can feel his heart clench in hurt and disappointment as he turns back to jaemin, just to see that his friend has abandoned him once again this evening. of course, he wasn’t really surprised at the fact that jaemin had disappeared as soon as he had gotten a hold of him, but he just wished that at least one of his other good friends were here. like jeno, who would just joke around for hours and maybe even attempt to try a kegstand. he was always the life of the party, and everyone would seem attracted to him like magnets wherever he would be.

donghyuck yawns as he taps on his phone, checking the time once again to see that an entire hour had gone by. it also didn’t help that he had another reason to leave the party, which was because of his failed interaction with you earlier. he had only spoken one sentence to you during that entire interaction earlier, and he honestly just wanted to slap himself in the face at how awkward he could be around attractive people sometimes. at this rate, all he wanted to do was distract himself and his terrible ability to flirt with people by playing rounds and rounds of Overwatch until he eventually passed out.

before leaving, he makes sure to fill up his blue solo cup up until the brim with coca cola one last time, and also makes the mistake of glancing back over at you to see you all cozied up with the guy from earlier. he couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised, honestly, but he can’t help but to hang his head down on his walk all the way back from the frat party back to his dorm room.

that night, although he was busying himself with playing Overwatch and drinking red bulls until his head spun, he still couldn’t help himself from replaying different scenarios in his head if he had actually asked you to dance with him. would you have been cocky? teasing? frivolous, maybe? he can imagine your elated expression as he busts out some terrible dance moves, and he can almost hear what your laugh would sound like in his head. he hated that he actually blushed at the thought of how beautiful your laugh would sound to his ears, and he proceeds to log off of his computer before burying himself underneath his covers.

that was the one and only chance he had to ask you to dance, because every night after that eventful night that he had decided to attend jaemin’s frat parties, you were never to be seen. even when he tried searching for you, walking in and out of every room more than once, he could never find you after that night, and even though donghyuck expected many things, this wasn’t one of them.

every night after he had gotten back underneath his covers after partying until unholy hours of the night, he would always remember how he failed to ask you, the only person who he was remotely interested in, to dance with him and forget all of your worries together. he was really an idiot, he thought to himself every night before he drifted off to sleep.

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7-wonders · 5 years ago

Text

Almost Feelings

Summary: Just when things were starting to get back to normal, an accidental confession by Michael sends shockwaves through your relationship.

Word Count: 3148

A/N: Another chapter of Mad Love, done. Thanks for sticking with me, and I hope this doesn’t suck too much.

Life manages to slowly reassume a state of relative normality. After Dinah Stevens had checked you over and declared you free of Satan’s influence, you were allowed to actually leave your bed and once again have freedom. Well, limited freedom. Michael has been wary of letting you out of his sight, terrified that Satan will once again attempt to control you. Your father-in-law hasn’t made an appearance in your lives since the night that he possessed a cocktail waitress, which is what scared both you and Michael the most.

Michael had fully been expecting to be swept down to Hell for a thorough scolding about “spurning” the gifts being given to him. As the days passed with none of the usual indicators that Satan was near, your worry started to wane. Surely he had better things to do than stalk you and wait to once again try the plan that had already failed? Michael, on the other hand, wasn’t too sure. If there’s one thing he knows about the being he’s never met, it’s that he’s extremely patient.

The gilded cage in which you’ve spent the past days under Michael’s watch has become increasingly more confining. Even if you weren’t outwardly expressing your discomfort, Michael would be able to sense it. Although he wants nothing more than to make sure you’re safe at all times, he knows he can’t keep you locked in the house. Maybe if he was less of a lovestruck Antichrist, he would have no qualms about it. The power dynamics in your relationship have changed, for better or for worse, and he cares about your wants far too much for him to disregard your feelings.

It’s only been a few days since your bout of “food poisoning” when Michael finally agrees with you that it’s safe to return to class, but it feels as if it’s been months. Even in the largest house you’ve ever inhabited, cabin fever still runs rampant. As he watches you run out the door to get to campus, Michael feels a tugging in his chest that he’s come to associate with you. Watching the one person you love most in the world leave the safety of your protection is a pain that, unfortunately, Michael’s become all too familiar with.

While Michael’s dealing with emotions he’s never had before, you’re nearly drunk on the freedom that you’ve been denied lately. It’s not exactly warm out, but the windows in your car are rolled down and the wind whips your hair around your face as you sing along to the radio at the top of your lungs.

Classes, of course, you could do without. It’s the little moments, getting to laugh with your friends in class and holing up in your favorite hidden corners when you have a break, that make the monotony of lectures bearable. Michael, predictably, breaks the established rules of communication by texting you to make sure that you’re okay at least once an hour. Prior to momentarily being Satan’s puppet, this would have irritated you to no end. Now, you understand Michael’s motives in a way that you previously hadn’t.

“You look a lot better,” Mallory says in place of a regular greeting when you meet up with her in the library after class.

“As opposed to my regularly horrendous appearance?” She rolls her eyes, obviously not appreciating your joke.

“You know what I meant.” You slide into the seat across the table from Mallory, tugging your textbook and laptop out of your backpack. “The endless bout of food poisoning is finally gone for good?”

“I think so. I started feeling human a couple of days ago, and this is the first day I haven’t felt like crawling into a hole and dying since I got sick.”

“Well that’s good. I almost thought you were avoiding us after revealing your secret.” You look up, panicked at what she could mean before realizing that she means your living arrangements.

“Oh! No, I wouldn’t avoid you guys, because it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Really? Because with the way that Michael looks at you, you would think that you were married.”

You laugh nervously and pretend to search for a pen in your bag, attempting to hide your anxious expression. “Like I’ve told you before, we’re just friends and he was nice enough to help me out when I was facing a tough time.”

“It’s not a bad thing if you do have feelings for him, (Y/N).”

“I just don’t get why you and Kate are stuck on this idea,” you grumble.

Mallory’s gaze softens when she sees how her comments affected you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“I’m not mad at you, I promise. Let’s just work on homework before we get too off-track.”

Of course, this plan works for a good twenty minutes, giving you just enough time to read and take notes from one chapter of your text before your attention is drawn away from the task at hand. Mallory had merely asked for your help in identifying the proper use of ‘affect’ versus ‘effect,’ which almost immediately led to discussing topics that have nothing to do with schoolwork.

“I think we need to focus on the real issue here,” you comment as Mallory laments Kate and Brennan’s latest argument, this one about moving in together.

“Which is?”

“Your own love life, of course.” Mallory groans, making you pout. “Mal, you haven’t mentioned any sort of romantic interest once since I met you.”

“Because I have better things to do than spend my time swiping on Tinder.” You can tell that there’s more she’s not divulging, and a good minute of remaining silent while sneaking glances at her has the brunette finally speaking again. “I...my last relationship didn’t end well at all.”

“Was this while you were still living in New Orleans?”

“Yeah. Actually, my decision to transfer here is what led to our break up. She wanted me to stay, I wanted to go, and that was that.”

You feel for her, but an interesting bit of information captures the majority of your attention. “‘She!’”

Mallory flushes, attempting to stutter out an answer, but you’re far too excited to allow her to speak.

“Ooh, that doubles the potential dating pool for you! I know so many people who would be so interested in you, and they’re just the ones that I can think of off the top of my head.”

“While I appreciate your excitement, I’m just not sure I’m quite ready for another relationship yet.” You nod in understanding, but Mallory’s phone chiming ends the conversation before you can suggest slowly diving back into the dating pool. “Ugh, I’ve gotta get going.”

“Yeah, I should probably go too. I have way too much homework that I haven’t gotten started on.”

“Wanna make a deal?” Mallory asks as you walk towards the parking lot together.

“A deal?”

“Mhm. I won’t bring up the Michael issue anymore if you won’t try and drag me out to go and meet new people.”

You have to hand it to her; she’s extremely good at bartering. “Alright then, we have a deal.”

Shockingly, Michael’s not waiting at the door for you when you arrive home. You find him in the kitchen searching for food, although he does look like he’s trying not to seem like he’s waiting for you.

“Hey,” you greet, hopping up on the counter and pulling Michael into a hug that he begrudgingly returns.

“Hi. How were classes today?”

“I survived, so…” you trail off, shrugging.

“And you’re feeling okay? Nothing odd happened to you?”

“No, I’m great.” Just to prove how great you are, you shove Michael away from you. “Could someone possessed by Satan do that?”

“No, I suppose not.”

Getting off of the counter, you snag a sandwich from a plate and take a very well-deserved bite. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You’ve asked me many questions about many things, all without asking beforehand if you can.”

“Well it’s a touchy subject, and people usually like to make sure that it’s okay to ask.”

Michael looks at you like he’s not sure he wants to know what you’ll ask, but nods anyways. “Ask away, then.”

“You’re treating this whole situation like it’s your fault.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“Sorry. Why are you treating this whole situation like it’s your fault?”

“I’m not.”

Wrinkling your nose, you cross your arms over your chest and glare. “I thought you hated lies.”

“It wasn’t a lie,” he scoffs.

“Michael, you’re terrified about me leaving your sight and you do anything and everything I ask. It’s okay to feel like it’s your fault, but I need you to know that it’s not.”

“How is it not my fault? It happened at an event that I took you to, it was my father who poisoned you, and it’s because you’re an unwilling part of this prophecy that I dragged you into.”

“Are you your father? Are you the one who made me drink that potion? Did you take advantage of me when you could have?”

“No, I’m not, and I didn’t, but I’m the reason he tried it in the first place!”

The room falls silent, and you watch as Michael’s eyes widen. You wouldn’t have thought anything about his statement in the first place if he hadn’t shown any fear in his eyes, assuming it to just be a blanket statement since Satan’s his father. Now, you’re starting to suspect there might be something more.

“What do you mean, ‘you’re the reason he tried it in the first place?’”

“I-I--” Michael shakes his head as he stammers, taking a cautious step back from you.

“Michael,” you snap, patience running thin.

“Fuck, (Y/N)!” He runs a hand through his hair, and you’re shocked at his uncharacteristic use of a swear. “I was impatient and frustrated, and so I sought out my father’s advice for help. I knew it was wrong the moment he gave me a solution, but he was so angry that I even thought about turning down his ‘gift’ that I...I took it.”

“You knew he was going to give me that drink at the Cooperative event?” You’re oddly calm, something that frightens Michael more than any amount of anger could.

“No! No, I knew nothing about that.”

You take your time digesting this information, letting Michael stew in his anxiety as your jaw clenches tightly. “So there was another time, then?”

“Yes, there was.”

Thinking through every interaction you’ve had with Michael in the past couple of months, you can only think of a couple of occasions where he’s acted stranger than normal. Only one of those, however, involved Satan’s ironic choice of apples.

“The day where I had the weird dream that I couldn’t remember, and then you freaked out when I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl,” you say bitterly. “You put that fucking apple there!”

“I didn’t have a choice--”

“Yes, you did. You contacted your father because you were pissed I wasn’t your adoring little wife, you put that apple in the bowl, you watched as I ate what you thought was your father’s gift, and you kept this little secret from me!”

The lights flicker ominously above you, a silent warning to watch yourself before Michael loses control. Today, however, those signs of Michael’s immense powers couldn’t mean less to you.

“I wanted to protect you. The second you grabbed that apple, I regretted even contacting my father in the first place. I assumed that, by not telling you in the first place, that would mean you weren’t living every day in fear.”

“You don’t get to decide what information I should and shouldn’t know, especially when it directly concerns me and my life.”

“I know that, and you need to trust me when I say that I am so, so sorry for the way that this happened.” Michael reaches a hand out to try and physically convey just how sorry he is, but you shove him away as you shake your head emphatically. The tears brimming in your eyes physically cause him pain, and all he wants to do is feel one of your hugs as he wipes your sadness away.

“How do you expect me to trust you anymore? You lied to me and put my life at risk, solely for your own selfish reasons,” you cry out, spinning on your heel and marching up the stairs.

“I don’t expect you to trust me, and I’ll spend every day trying to earn that trust back--”

“No,” you spit, coming to a stop at your bedroom door. “This isn’t something that you can just apologize a few times for and then everything is okay again.”

Michael watches helplessly from the threshold of your room, not willing to go in as you grab a bag and start throwing clothes into it.

“I know you’ve never really seen the dynamics of any sort of a healthy relationship, but surely even you should know that this is not the way that people are treated.”

“What are you doing? Are you leaving?”

You ignore his question, walking into the bathroom before returning with an armful of toiletries. “You say that you’re in love with me? What you did is not love. Love is honesty, and protection, and admitting your mistakes when you make them. Love is not lying to save face, or believing that you know better than the person you claim you love.”

“(Y/N),” Michael says brokenly, hoping to somehow find enough of a gap in your sentences to attempt and repair what’s been broken.

“You’re not supposed to hurt those that you love, and you hurt me.”

“I do love you, and I never wanted any of this to happen!” Now Michael’s crying too, blue eyes stormy as tears trail down his cheeks.

“You don’t love me, Michael. You love the idea of what I’m supposed to be for you. You think that I’m just going to wake up one day and fit into this role that supposedly is mine by prophecy, but I’m not. It’s been almost a year; either release me from this sham of a Satanic marriage or kill me, because I will never be what you want me to be.”

Michael feels like his entire world is crumbling around him as you zip up your bag and toss it over your shoulder. He has to do something to fix this, but it’s as if he’s frozen in place. You can’t even look him in the eyes as you pass, knowing that you’ll lose your resolve if you do.

“Just because your father doesn’t love you doesn’t give you the excuse to have a skewed idea of love.” You pause at the front door, hand on the doorknob as you look back at him. “I need to be alone for a couple of days. Don’t bother trying to contact me, I won’t answer.”

Closing the door behind you, you can hear Michael’s screams of agony as you run to your car and fumble with the keys. The key’s barely in the ignition before you’re driving away, angrily swiping tears from your face to attempt to keep your sight clear.

How could he betray you like this? How could he sit by, hearing you thank him profusely for saving your life, when it was all his fault? Your mind whirls with a cacophony of questions, all of them leaving behind a bitter disappointment.

He’s supposed to be your friend. Up until today, you had thought things were going well, and you genuinely liked your Satanic roommate. Now, you don’t know if you can ever even trust him again. This deception stings more than you would have expected. After all, you used to despise him; why should this hurt you when you had expected the bare minimum? Maybe this is all your fault for placing your trust in a person who should not be trusted under any circumstances.

You’re too lost in your thoughts to register movement out of the corner of your eye until it’s too late, a small deer jumping directly in the path of your oncoming vehicle. Gasping, you slam on the brakes in an attempt to save the animal. Startled by the sound, the deer dashes across the road into the tree-line. You should be in the clear, but a quick rainstorm earlier in the evening has left the roads wet. As the car hydroplanes across the road, you quickly realize that there’s no stopping its path.

The car careens through the deserted road, crashing in the ditch and coming to a stop when it hits a tree. Although you try to brace yourself, the force of the crash overwhelms any strength you may have. Your head smacks against the steering wheel, and though you only lose consciousness for a second, it’s frighteningly disorienting to wake up again.

Your head screams in pain as you lift yourself up, and you can feel a warm liquid coursing down your face. Gingerly touching the source, you examine your fingers and confirm that you’re bleeding. Throwing open the car door, you stumble and land on your hands and knees. When you attempt to stand, the world tilts under your feet, so you settle from crawling away from the wreckage.

Of course this would happen to you when you’re attempting to put some distance between you and Michael. Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if this crash was orchestrated by Satan himself to voice his displeasure at the situation. You try your hardest to crawl towards the road, hoping that a lone car will spot you and get help, but your arms give out underneath you and send you falling to the ground.

Staring up at the darkening sky, you can only hope that this concussion isn’t the kind that includes internal bleeding. There’s a chance for you to make your way to safety if you can regain your bearings, but the dropping temperatures make you worry that you’ll be out in the cold all night. Just as you’ve resigned yourself to freezing to death, the sound of feminine voices approaching you gives you hope.

“Over here, help me!” you call weakly, attempting to sit up to see who’s out there.

Four women walk towards you; an older woman with crimped red hair, two blondes, and a brunette. One of the blondes bends down beside you and, instead of calling for help, smiles at you with perfectly-painted pink lips as she strokes your bloodied hair away from your face. You panic as you feel yourself losing consciousness again, wide eyes darting around the group as you try to ask what’s going on. Right before passing out, you lock eyes with the brunette and feel a flicker of recognition.

“Mallory?”

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welllpthisishappening · 5 years ago

Text

One Foot In (4/7)

The facts were these.

Killian Jones was dead. This much Emma knew, standing in the middle of the funeral parlor staring at him. What she didn’t know was why. Or how. Or what she would do when she touched him.

Because Emma Swan had a gift. Touch a dead thing once, bring it back to life. Touch it again, dead forever.

And the last thing Emma could do was bring Killian back to life, talk to him for the first time in years, only to watch him die all over again. Not when she’d spent the better part of those same years being in love with him.

—–

Rating: Teen, but eventually they’re going to kiss Word Count: 9.3K and I seriously don’t remember writing all of this AN: This is the part where we kind of deviate from Pushing Daisies (although there are some jokes from other episodes) and move into magic and meaningful conversations and it’s going to get relatively exciting from here on out. I hope, at least. Thanks for reading this. I think you guys are swell.

@shireness-says @optomisticgirl @nikkiemms, @teamhook, @dayo488, @greymeetsblue, @jennjenn615, @heavenlyjoycastle, @klynn-stormz, @superchocovian, @onepunintendid, @jonesfandomfanatic, @lfh1226-linda

Also on Ao3 if that’s your jam. Or, you can take it from the top.

—–

Emma Swan is twenty-nine years, six months, twenty-three days and, approximately, twelve hours and forty-two minutes old when her shoulder is nearly ripped out of her socket.

“Ow, jeez, what the hell, Ruby?” she hisses, gaping at her partner as soon as she tightens her hold on Emma’s wrist. “My health insurance is garbage. I can’t get injured here.” “Don’t you think we could sue the town of Storybrooke? I think you’re technically on city hall property at this point.” “Town hall,” Killian corrects. He’s leaning against the back door of Emma’s car, feet crossed at the ankle again which is only kind of infuriating in the way it makes Emma’s heart jump, but he’s also got a pinch between his eyebrows that wasn’t there when they left the restaurant.

It’s because Emma made him sit in the backseat.

And Ruby agreed.

His arsenal of curses has gotten far more creative in the past two decades. One of the more nautical ones even made Ruby blush.

Emma didn’t think she was capable of that.

“Storybrooke is a town,” he continues when Ruby quirks a vaguely annoyed eyebrow in his direction. “If you want to get technical. The state of Maine is weird like that. Anything can really be a town, but a city has to be incorporated by a special act of the state legislature.” “Why do you know that?” Emma asks. “And, really? Anything can be a city? There’s not like...a population requirement.” “Usually. But Maine’s a strange place with strange laws and as discussed before, I’ve read some things in the last few years.” “That includes the requirements for a city to be formed?” “Incorporated.” “What a ridiculous word.” Killian hums, but the pinch between his eyebrows is still there and he looks a little cautious. Or nervous. That’s really the word for it. He looks nervous, as if whatever they’ll find out from Cora Mills at the Storybrooke Town Hall is going to change everything.

Ruby still hasn’t let go of Emma’s wrist.

Emma is slightly concerned about the blood flow to her hand.

“The specifics of any of this could not possibly matter less,” Ruby hisses. “Jones, I need you to take a walk towards those very high bushes.” The pinch between his eyebrows is never going to disappear. “Excuse me?” “Did none of these encyclopedias you’ve read teach you how the English language works?” “Why do you think I was reading encyclopedias?” “Were you not?” “I mean,” he shrugs, “maybe at one point. Nemo had some really old ones that were mostly focused on the naval history of the world, but those weren’t very interesting and the pages were really fragile and—” “I do not care,” Ruby shouts, and Emma blinks at the absolute acid in her voice. She tries to yank her arm back to her side, but that works as well as trying to understand the absurd inner-workings of the Maine census bureau and only ends with Emma elbowing herself in the ribs. Ruby huffs dramatically, lips pursed. “A walk,” she repeats. “Towards those bushes where, presumably no one can see you and realize you’re breathing.” “Why are we yelling this?” Emma mumbles. Ruby’s answering glare could probably melt several thousand diamonds.

Her grip could certainly crack them.

And Emma isn’t really sure what’s changed in the car ride from her restaurant to the Storybrooke Town Hall, but there had been a lot of cursing and mumbling about acting like I’m a little kid and sounds like Liam and that second one had made her breath catch in her throat and Ruby was always very good at reading her face.

Which she could see perfectly. From the front seat of Emma’s car.

Oh, damn.

“Maybe just one second,” Emma says, glancing at Killian to find him staring at her like it’s the first time he’s ever seen her. Ruby squeezes her nails into Emma’s wrist. “Or,” she amends. “Like thirteen seconds. Just...to come up with a plan of attack.” Killian clicks his teeth at that, eyebrows lifting, which doesn’t do much to help the very obvious whatever that settles on every inch of his face – something that looks like surprise and feels like disappointment and the buzzing in between Emma’s ears sputters into nothing. He’s chewing on the side of his tongue, a nervous habit he picked up when he was seven and Liam let them watch Friday the 13th on Halloween with the lights off and enough candy to make Emma regret her distinct lack of dental insurance again.

“Huh,” he mutters, barely audible over the sounds of the town.

They’re familiar sounds – a few cars and some kid riding their bike because it’s August and there’s a hint of humidity in the air that’s already starting to make the ends of Emma’s hair curl. She can hear an ice cream truck a few blocks away and mosquitos and someone needs to get their air conditioner checked out because it can’t be good for it to be that noisy.

Emma shifts awkwardly on her feet, trying, and failing, again, to regain control of her right arm, but Ruby must have been a wrestler in another life because she’s got some kind of choke-hold and, clearly, no intention of letting go.

“It’s just thirteen seconds,” Emma says, but her voice sounds like the lie it is and her own nerves are obvious in every single syllable. Killian’s lips twist.

“At least. For your plan of attack.” “We just...you know, we like to be prepared going into stuff like this.” “Murder investigations.” “Well, to be fair, I’m not usually dealing with people who are alive. We’ve got more time and I don’t want to, you know, waste that.” “Seems impossible when you’re used to only a minute,” Killian says, and Emma is single-handedly digging herself into the world’s biggest ditch. She’s a little worried Ruby’s nails have cut her arm.

“You don’t actually have to stand in the bushes.” Ruby scoffs, her own mumbled curses, and Killian’s lips twitch. “I had no intention of standing in the bushes. You better attack though, Swan. Lucas looks like she’s growing talons.” “Claws, honestly.” “I am standing right here,” Ruby seethes.

Emma shrugs, glancing over her shoulder and she hadn’t realized she’d moved away from Ruby. Or closer to Killian. Honestly she’s going to write a twenty-seven page research paper on the possibility of magnets in the real world and how goddamn inconvenient they are.

“And whose fault is that?” Emma asks. “Alright, I really do have garbage health insurance, so if we could avoid bodily harm before we deal with a maybe murderer, that’d be great. C’mon.”

She, finally, regains control of her arm, moving a few feet down the sidewalk and leaving Killian with the car and the anxiety practically radiating off him.

And, really, Emma has every intention of controlling the conversation from the get-go, a determination that’s almost impressive because she’s having a very difficult time remembering to breathe consistently, but then Ruby is in front of her and the sun appears to be reflecting off the highlights in her hair and she’s doing that foot tapping thing.

Emma hates that foot tapping thing.

“Is this where you yell?” Emma asks, Ruby already shaking her head.

“No, this is where I do the asking several very important questions and you tell me the God’s honest truth or I swear to God I will push you in traffic.” “In traffic?” “Is that not threatening enough?”

Emma makes a contradictory noise in the back of her throat. “I feel like people would probably stop their cars. Or I’d still have the ability to dodge. I think I could dodge.” “Your reflexes are not that good,” Ruby promises. “And we are wasting time. Also, do you think Jones knows how to read lips?” “I’ve got no idea.” “What do you know about him?” The question seems unfairly large to start with, but Emma’s got a sinking suspicion that’s not actually one of Ruby’s questions and the weight of disappointment that settles in her gut at the realization that she may not actually have an answer is somewhere close to horrendous.

“Your silence is overwhelming.” Emma blinks, trying to push impossible tears back in their ducts and she’s going to chew her lower lip in half before the day is over. “It’s not...ok, I know that’s not what you wanted to ask, so can we get to the point of this—” “—No, no, I wanted to ask that. Because I think there’s some seriously shady things happening here and a group of goons on some tourist cruise who call some other dude master is a little terrifying, don’t you think?” “I don’t think Killian was working for that guy.” “Do you know that for sure? Can you know that for sure?” Emma bites her lip again. There’s blood in her mouth. It’s disgusting. And Ruby sighs. “All I’m saying is maybe we should be careful and I…” She exhales, eyes going dangerously thin and Emma braces herself for the riot act. What she gets is almost worse. “Are you in love with him? Is it that brand of stupid?”

Emma’s right knee gives out. Only her right one. It’s kind of weird, but that seems to just be the sub-headline of her life now. And, at least, she doesn’t fall down.

So, comparatively…

“No,” Emma says, but the word feels heavy and incorrect and Ruby’s head tilt is almost vibrating with judgment. “No.” “No?”

“No.” “I’m going to tell you that I don’t believe you, but—” “—I killed his brother.”

The words fly out of Emma’s mouth, her eyes widening with her own surprise and the noise Ruby makes is not of this world. It sounds like an alien has settled into her body and realized what a god awful race humans are and then decided, unequivocally, that Emma is the worst of the worst and is now desperate to get off this planet.

The greenhouse gasses are pretty horrible anyway. That’s probably Emma’s fault too.

Ruby brings both her hands to her temples, blinking far too quickly to be anything except jarring and Emma is running out of lip to bite. She moves to her cheek.

“Ok, hold on a second,” Ruby mutters. “That is...when? Recently? I thought he said his brother died when he was ten.” “He did.” “And?” “And what? I…” Emma trails off, yanking on the ends of her humidity-ruined hair. They are going way over their thirteen-second limit. “The very short story is that the EMTs said Ingrid suffered a brain hemorrhage. Incredibly rare, immediately fatal and I...didn’t know that. So—” “—Oh my God, you touched her,” Ruby finishes. This is not the first time she’s heard this particular part of the story. Emma nods. “And that meant that…” Her hand flies to her mouth, but it doesn’t do much to silence the gasp she makes. Emma swats at both of her arms, desperate to quiet her or silence whatever guilt is bouncing around her skull and neither thing works. She can feel Killian casting curious glances their direction.

“I am going to push you in traffic,” Emma warns. “And you will trip over your own heels.” Ruby scowls, absurd with her hand still plastered over her mouth. “You are questionably obsessed with my fashion choices. But Ingrid died. That’s why you had to leave Storybrooke.” “I know. But, ok, you cannot make any noise, do you understand me?” Ruby nods slowly, and there will probably be handprint marks smearing her lipstick. “I came into the kitchen and Ingrid was dead. Sudden and real and I was nine. I didn’t think...I just reacted and then she was alive and I was so happy, but then...well, the universe is a dick and—” Emma can’t bring herself to finish.

The tears on her cheeks are distracting.

Ruby pulls her hand away from her mouth – lipstick somehow in place, which is actually almost comforting – wrapping her fingers around Emma’s wrist in a way that’s even more comforting. “Does he know?”

Emma shakes her head. “No. I didn’t know at first. I had no idea what the rules were or are and I wasn’t trying to do that. I...I loved Liam too and he was so good for Killian and Killian...oh, he idolized him. But then I was leaving and he kept saying I was going to come back and—” “—You didn’t ever come back.” “No.”

“Did you want to?” “Every single day.” Ruby exhales through her teeth, and they’re all going to need extensive dental work by the time this is over. “Ok, so, uh...that leads us almost directly to my number one, top of the list, most important question of all time. Who died to make sure Killian Jones didn’t?” “I have no idea,” Emma admits, those particular words far more difficult to say than a secret she’d like to kept under metaphorical lock and key for the rest of her mortal life.

“Yeah, I figured you were going to say something horrible like that. How does that even work? Is it an age thing? Does it have to be relatively similar.” Emma shrugs. “I think it’s a general proximity thing.” “I was like twenty feet away from you!”

“I wasn’t really thinking,” Emma reasons. “That’s not an excuse, it’s just a fact. I would have been upset if you died.” “Wow, your charity is overwhelming, Em. You know what, I’m going to take all of your reward. Screw that. I didn’t realize I was playing with fire here.” “Metaphorically, I guess.” Ruby kicks at her ankle, nose scrunched. “You make jokes when you're nervous. It’s a coping mechanism.” She grits her teeth, more exaggerated breathing that Emma supposes is warranted in the moment. “And you know what this means?”

“Should I?” “There’s another body somewhere with no reasonable explanation for its death.” Emma’s left knee gives out. “Oh, well, shit.” “That’s eloquent.” “You have something better to suggest?” “Nah,” Ruby says, a grin that feels wholly out of place in a conversation filled with so much death. Emma wishes there weren’t always so much death involved. “But I bet if you ask your boyfriend he’d be able to help. I think he was using some pirate ones before. He seems like a practical treasure trove of frustrated curses.” “Are you making jokes now?” Ruby shrugs, hand moving to Emma’s shoulder. “It’s an observation. And you didn’t contradict boyfriend, just for the record or whatever.” “I don’t have time to be worried about antiquated relationship qualifiers,” Emma mumbles, but the butterflies in her stomach have returned and she wants to know every single thing Killian has learned in the last two decades.

She really doesn’t want to tell him she killed his brother.

On accident.

Kind of.

She wouldn’t mind kissing him again.

“Yeah, sure you don’t,” Ruby laughs. “Alright, well, we’ve got a serious check-list of things we need to accomplish before anyone else realizes we’re trying to accomplish them. No time like the present, right?”

She’s gone before Emma can begin to formulate a response – a twist of red and hair that doesn’t appear prone to humidity and a very particular shine to her shoes that Emma is almost certain she’s developed on her own.

And Killian is exactly where they left him.

He licks his lips as soon as his eyes dart towards Emma, eyebrows raised in silent question. They’d always been very good at that, silent communication that used to drive Ingrid and Liam insane in equal measure until Liam threw his whole head back and taught them morse code so they could at least learn something practical and they used to flash lights at each other from across the street when they were supposed to be asleep.

“Everything alright?” he asks, and Emma makes a noise that is the audible version of the worst lie she’s ever told. “That so?” “I didn’t actually say anything.” “Yeah, you didn’t really have to, did you?” “The mind reading thing isn’t nearly as cute as you think it is.” The tongue stuff has got to stop. It means Emma keeps thinking about Killian’s tongue and that’s a dangerous line of thought and maybe they should get him some new clothes. Seeing him in the clothes he was supposed to be buried in is disconcerting.

“So you think I’m dreamy and cute?” Killian asks, pushing off the car at the same time his eyebrows defy several laws of gravity. Emma swallows. She wonders how much it would hurt to have to get stitches in her lip. “That’s quite a tandem don’t you think?”

“I think you’re way too confident for your own good and it’s going to get us in trouble.” “What other trouble could I possibly get into, Swan? I’ve already been dead once in the last forty-eight hours, seems to cover most of my bases doesn’t it?” Emma sighs. “Can you pull your hat down? There’s too much of your hair showing.”

He does as asked, tugging with almost too much force. “No one is going to notice me,” Killian says, a promise he can’t possibly make in the middle of a town that knows far too much about both of them. “It’s the middle of the day, anyway. Cora’s probably the only person in the building. You know how she hates to delegate, works through lunch and—” “Yeah, uh,” Ruby interrupts, moving back towards the sidewalk and Emma hadn’t even realized she’d gone into the building. “No one’s really doing anything with lunch in there. Or doing much of anything. At all.” “What does that mean?” Emma asks.

“This creepy Cora? She’d likely be at a desk that says mayor on a very fancy plaque? Dark hair? Suit that costs more than my yearly rent?” Killian nods. “All of the above.” “Yeah, she’s very dead.” Both of Emma’s knees give out – and she knows Killian moves, an immediate reaction that is equal parts dreamy and cute and absolutely impossible because she’s not wearing nearly enough clothing and there are rules and he can’t catch her.

She stumbles forward, balance no more than almost precarious as Ruby’s fingers curl around her elbow. “Deep breaths, Em. It’s fine. It’s...you know, it’s fine.” “That was almost as bad as Swan,” Killian mumbles, arm still outstretched like he’ll be able to do something. It takes them all a moment to realize it’s his left arm. He grimaces as soon as his eyes land on the skin there, the sleeve of his shirt hanging over the edge and Emma wants a lot more than she should ever be allowed to even consider, but more than anything she wants to pull his arm into her hands and hold him there and promise it will be ok because he’s ok and it doesn’t matter, none of it matters, them or him or whatever they may be dealing with in the moment, because he looks at her like nothing is wrong.

He looks at her like he’s been hoping to find her every single day he’s woken up and it’s a feeling Emma understands and wants and maybe Ruby is right.

That’s kind of annoying.

Emma hates when Ruby is right. She’s a bad sport about it.

“Did it...well, what do we do?” Killian continues.

Ruby grins. “What we normally do.” “You want to—” He glances at Emma, mouth hanging open. She tries to smile. It fails miserably. “Oh, yeah, ok,” Killian nods, sounding as if he’s trying to convince himself. “Is that ok, Swan?”

She wishes things would stop surprising her. It can’t possibly be good for her blood pressure or the apparently shoddy state of her knees. But he says it with such sincerity and that hat looks absolutely ridiculous, makes the slight point of ears Emma always teased him about when they were little even more obvious, and he keeps having to push the sunglasses they found in the glove compartment up.

Emma nods brusquely. “Yeah, of course. I mean...that’s what you were saying before, right? This is kind of my schtick.” “That’s not what I meant. I just...you were plotting.” “I wasn’t plotting without you.” “That’s not what it looked like.” “Ok, we genuinely do not have time for this,” Ruby says, cutting in before Emma can say something absurdly sentimental and decidedly out of place for what has just become another crime scene. “We have negative amount of time for this. Let’s go talk to creepy Cora Mills and get the hell out of here before someone realizes the lurker in the weird hat is dead.” “He’s not dead,” Emma growls, but Ruby just waves her hands in her face and nods as if that word isn’t kind of offensive.

Killian smiles at her. “It is a kind of weird hat though, Swan.” “It’s not a weird hat! And you’re not dead. Can we please stop using that word? It’s--it’s messing with my head and, like, my lungs and—” “—You’ve got to breathe, love.” “How are you so calm about this?”

They’re frozen in the doorway of the Storybrooke Town Hall, far too close and not close enough. Ruby is tapping her heel on marble tile now. “I’m not,” Killian says with an ease that belies the look on his face. “I’m frustrated and annoyed and pissed off. At the world and Cora Mills and goons one through six and kind of at you for never coming back because I always wanted you to come back and I wondered and—” She can see every single one of his teeth when he cuts himself off, and Emma wishes he’d stop doing that, but she figures it’s kind of unfair to demand proper sentence structure at this point.

“I was dead, Swan,” he says, expression softening when Emma makes a face. “That’s a fact. But then you showed up and changed that and I...well, I wasn’t...if this is as dangerous as it might be then I don’t want anything to happen to you.” “Oh.” It’s the worst response. It’s an absolutely lame response, but Emma’s always been a little worried that she’s missing some fundamental piece of her empathy chip and she twists her arms behind her back again to stop herself from touching him.

“Oh?” “Oh,” Emma repeats, whatever disgusted sound Ruby makes at their distinct lack of conversational progress bouncing off the far too ostentatious walls around them. “I—well, that was kind of nice.” “That was kind of the goal.” “Right. Right, well, mission accomplished, I guess. And, uh...that hat came from a baking contest a couple years ago.” “You were in a baking contest?” “You were making jokes about award-winning pie, but it’s almost true. The five-berry one was described as something close to life-changing.” “Seems to be a trend,” Killian mutters. He moves his hand again, a quick brush of fingertips over the curve of Emma’s shoulder and he shakes his head as soon as she tries to tell him to stop that, God. “That was the last time. Just...making sure.” Emma doesn’t have to ask what he means – knows he’s making sure she’s there and real and this would almost make more sense if it were some very lucid dream. But she figures she wouldn't want to torture herself even in a dream and Emma’s inability to touch a guy she maybe hopes could be referred to as her boyfriend in regular conversation is something she’ll have to contend with eventually. Once they solve his murder and the trail of bodies that seem to be piling up behind him.

“Let’s go,” Ruby groans from the other end of the hallway.

“It’s not like Cora’s getting up and walking away,” Emma mutters, working a laugh out of Killian.

“At least not yet. C’mon, love, I’d rather Cora’s assistant didn’t find us while we were in the middle of this.”

Cora Mills, mayor of Storybrooke since, quite possibly, the dawn of time, looks almost exactly the way Emma remembers her.

There’s more gray to her hair, a few more wrinkles around her eyes, but she’s still got an air of superiority around her that sets Emma’s teeth on edge. Her suit definitely cost a ridiculous amount of money and the manicure looks nearly immaculate – except on her right hand. It’s not the whole thing, but three of her fingers are missing nails and—

“Oh my God, Cora Mills gets acrylic nails,” Emma laughs.

“Is that a clue of some sort?” Killian asks, earning more laughter for more sincerity and it is really getting very difficult not to hold his hand.

“Ah, I like that you said clues. And, no, well, maybe, but...I guess it’s just funny. Acrylic nails are so...tacky.” “Ok, that’s not true at all,” Ruby argues. She’s already picking her way through piles of paperwork, a determined look on her face that usually ends in several stacks of bills untraceable by the IRS. “These aren’t just acrylic. They’re gel and hard gel at that.” “I feel like she’s speaking in code,” Killian says, perched on the edge of Cora’s desk.

Emma lifts her eyebrows. “Should you be up there?” “What’s she going to do to stop me?” “Jesus,” Ruby growls. “The flirting is honestly disgusting. Also, I am not speaking in code. I am speaking in spa.” “What’s the difference?” “The difference is that hard gel eventually becomes, as its name implies, hard enough to basically be an extension of the nail. Getting those off is some kind of serious bitch. You’ve got to be totally committed to the color.” “None of this makes sense,” Emma fumes, bobbing on her feet and she’s unreasonably nervous to touch a dead person in front of Killian. “Can I just touch her so we can get out of here?” Ruby doesn’t look up from the papers she’s leafing through when she answers. “No one is stopping you, but you’re missing a very important point.” “You lord information over other people when you want to feel in control of a situation.” “And why do you think might I feel out of control in this particular situation?” “Oh, shit, no I get it,” Killian says, jumping off the desk with enough enthusiasm that Emma is really starting to wonder if time travel is possible. “Fuck, that’s not great, is it?” “We won’t know until Emma touches her.” Emma rolls her whole head. “What am I missing?” “Lucas is right, we won’t know until Cora tells us, but,” Killian starts, grinning like a maniac who just discovered what was underneath that one man hole on Main Street, “If hard gel requires a commitment to the color scheme, that means it would take one hell of a fight to pull the nails off, right?” Ruby nods, something that feels like PI pride hanging off her shoulders. “And that means that Cora didn’t just die under natural circumstances.” “I kind of figured that part was obvious considering your rather untimely murder,” Ruby muses. “But I wasn’t sure there was a fight until I noticed Madam Mayor’s rather grimy hands. She didn’t go down quietly.” “If you knew Cora, you’d understand that’s very in character.” “Well, I feel as if it’s time for me to meet the great and powerful Oz.” “That wasn’t funny,” Emma mumbles. Ruby laughs anyway. “Alright,” she huffs, jumping up and down as if that will work out her influx of nervous energy. Killian smirks at her. “I am nervous about this with you here.” “I’m going to take that as a compliment.” Ruby gags. Again. For at least twenty-one seconds straight. “There is a dead person here. Let’s try and keep some perspective. Also what did you say about that assistant?” “Aurora was terrified of Cora,” Killian reasons. “I doubt she’ll be back before the end of lunch. And you’ve got nothing to be worried about, Swan. It’s not going to change anything.” He can’t possibly mean it the way it sounds, but Emma’s brain doesn’t care. It latches to those words and that particular curve of his lips, confident in her and whatever magic she may be in possession of to fix things and control things she shouldn’t be able to control. Killian nods again when Emma wavers, his smile shifting slightly when he raises his right hand to cover his eyes.

“That better?” he asks.

Emma has to look down to make sure her entire body has not exploded into flames. It has not. That’s nice. “Yeah,” she breathes. “That’s...that’s good.”

“Can we get on with it?” Ruby drawls. She’s started opening drawers.

“You may want to move,” Emma suggests. “Sometimes they can get a little flaily when they just wake up.” “Oh, yeah, good point.” She takes the whole drawer with her when she steps to the other side of the office.

Emma takes a deep breath, tugging her phone out of her pocket and setting the timer and she’s almost pleased to notice that her finger doesn’t shake when she brushes over Cora’s hand. Killian’s fingers shift.

He’s still smiling.

And Cora does, in fact, flail. Her limbs are everywhere, impossibly agile and decidedly threatening, even with a few less nails than she’s normally used to. She jerks back as soon as Emma touches her, eyes crazed with a snarl on her face that’s only slightly intimidating.

Her head snaps around, taking in her surroundings as if she’s surprised to find herself still in the office where she, presumably, died a few minutes earlier.

“Oh,” Cora says, some of the fight almost visibly falling off her. “That’s—” She glances around again, and the curse she growls at all of them as soon as her eyes land on Killian is enough to make Emma’s hair curl without any humidity involved. ‘No, no, no,” Cora stammers. “What the hell are you doing here?” “That’s the million dollar question isn’t it?” Killian asks. “Who killed you, Cora?” “Where’s your hand?”

“Full of tact as always, ma’am.” “That’s not a question of tact, although if you’d like to discuss upbringing, I’d be only too happy to share some thoughts on your uncles and what they’ve done to that beautiful house.” “Did you think I had both of my hands when I died?”

“I didn’t think they’d take it, no.” “They?” “Listen,” Emma interrupts. “You’ve got like...fifty seconds to tell us everything that’s happened to you today and why you’re missing nails.” Cora blinks. “I wasn’t going to sit there and take it. That goon—” “—A goon,” Ruby cuts in. “What kind of goon?” “Is this heaven? Because that’s...well, that’s a little surprising, honestly.” “It’s not heaven,” Killian promises. “But there’s the possibility for some serious karmic retribution if you answer our questions. I make no guarantees about where you’ll end up, although I imagine not being a complete and utter harpy can only help you.” Cora laughs, dark and threatening. “Oh, you were always far too confident for your own good, Jones. I’d imagine the people who killed me are the same people who got rid of you. Although why they brought you back to Storybrooke, I’ll never understand.” “Is that why you offered the reward?” Ruby asks. “Covering your own ass?” “That’s a little crass, but sufficient.” “Who were these people?” Killian presses. “You never actually said.” “And yet you were only all too happy to agree weren’t you? Desperate to get out of this town and away from this life. It was the perfect opportunity for both of us.” “Explain that.”

Cora bristles at the command, Emma still sitting there silent and nervous and she hates how knowing the gaze that flashes towards her is. “Oh,” Cora says. “There’s something interesting about you, isn’t there? And it...it matches up with his.” Emma jerks her head up. “Who’s what?” “Jones. Can’t you feel that? Ah, well maybe you can’t, but that’s always been my own particular talent. That’s why they recruited me of course.” “Who?” Killian shouts, standing up and Emma hears Ruby’s breath hitch. He’s furious, that much is obvious, but it’s more than that, a hint of darkness and frustration that wasn’t there when they were kids and it makes him feel taller and more threatening than anything else in that room. “You’re running out of time here, Cora. Straight answers.” “Fine,” she snaps. “Sit down, you’re acting like a petulant child. I’ve...well, I’ve been endowed with several gifts in my life and one of my more...appealing gifts is the ability to see into someone’s heart.” “What?” “If you’d like an explanation, then it’s probably in your best interest not to interrupt.” Killian doesn’t sit down, but he doesn’t say anything else and Emma moves to the front of her seat when his fingers wrap around the back of her chair. “As I was saying,” Cora continues. “I’m rather good at seeing what people want. Deepest desires and darkest feelings, those hopes and needs we’ve done our best to hide away from the rest of the world. And our mutual employer found that very interesting. He wanted someone with your particular abilities to help him, Mr. Jones.” “I don’t have any particular abilities,” Killian says. Emma hopes she doesn’t crack the chair.

Cora shakes her head, smile turning mocking. “I believed that for a very long time too, but that’s not true. I can see it, Mr. Jones and I can feel it. It’s...not quite as strong as Ms. Swan, yes, I remember you too, but it’s there. And it seems to time up very well with hers.” “With my what?” Emma demands, almost too aware of the ticking seconds on her phone.

“Why your magic, of course. Both of you. It’s admittedly unfortunate that you had to die for it, Mr. Jones, but I’d imagine you walked right into it.”

“There’s no magic here,” Killian says, but Cora is already shaking her head and looking far too smug. She narrows her eyes.

“The darkness is always interested in finding more of us whenever he can.” Emma freezes, mouth hanging open and breath coming in decidedly unattractive pants. Killian curses – loudly. And they almost suffer another disaster, a case of proximity and the whims of the universe, but Ruby’s shrill Emma, fuck wakes her up and she more or less slaps Cora across the face.

It’s oddly satisfying.

None of them say anything. There’s not much to say. Magic is a child’s story, but Emma can wake the dead and make sure they stay dead and the buzzing in her head roared to life at Cora’s words, like it was reveling in them and there’s got to be an explanation for this.

This explanation, however, only seems to spark more questions.

That’s less satisfying.

“So,” Ruby says, eventually breaking the silence and Cora looks worse now than she did when they first found her. “That uh...didn’t really help us much at all, did it?”

“None of that made sense,” Killian mutters. “That’s—”

“—You going to tell me that magic is impossible when you just watched your girlfriend undead and redead someone?” “There’s got to be a better way of phrasing that,” Emma mumbles. She lets her head drop forward, colliding with the wood of the desk painfully.

Ruby makes a noise that is, hopefully, an agreement. “Yeah, probably. So, uh...you do anything magical recently, Jones?” “That’s the part that doesn’t make any sense,” he says. “I never even learned how to do card tricks. I...I wanted to get out of Storybrooke and Cora gave me an avenue to do that while helping Nemo. That’s all there was to it.” “Still doesn’t help us much as far as figuring out who you were both, apparently, working for.” “She said him,” Emma whispers, the realization striking her like lightning and several other natural disasters. She hears Killian shift, letting go of the chair to move around her and he’s crouched next to her when she moves her head. “Cora, I mean. Whatever she was talking about with magic. She said the darkness is looking for that, but she said him. As in a human male.” “Or an alien male,” Ruby suggests. “Let’s be as inclusive as possible. Could even be an animal, right? A really dangerous...dark cat? What’s a terrifying animal? Oh, God, what about an alligator? Right, right? Apex predator.”

“It’s a crocodile,” Killian mutters. His knees must be killing him. He doesn’t try to stand up. “Those jaws could snap a whole person right in half. Plus, they’re scaly, so that just makes them untrustworthy. Thoughts, Swan?”

Emma can’t shrug when she’s more or less draped across a dead mayor’s desk and they are pressing their luck staying that office with the same dead mayor, but she makes a valiant effort and that’s really all she can ask of herself right now. “You said it was shady, didn’t you? The whole thing on the boat—ship, yeah, God, that’s...it’s stupid that you keep doing that.” “It’s a control thing,” Killian admits with a smile. “But, yeah, it felt incredibly shady. And...wrong.” “What does that mean?” “I don’t know how to explain it without sounding like a complete and total crazy person. “Try me.”

Killian sighs, but it’s not frustration. It’s more nerves and concern and Emma knows part of that, most of it really, is directed at her. She’s going to give herself carpal tunnel from tensing her fists so often. “It felt wrong,” he starts. “I don’t...it was like I could hear it.” Emma’s elbow falls off the desk. She’s very glad she’s already sitting down. “You could hear what? Exactly?” “Buzzing?” “Why was that a question?” “Because you seem to already have a very strong idea of what my answer was going to be, Swan.”

“God,” Ruby chuckles. “When this is all over, Jones, remind me to offer you a job. You’re incredibly good at reading people.” He shakes his head, eyes not leaving Emma. “Just her.”

The rush of everything that shoots from the top of Emma’s head to the very tips of her toes isn’t quite as overwhelming as it probably should be. She’s got her suspicions about that – the look on Killian’s face and how goddamn blue his eyes are and whatever his mouth does when, she assumes, he feels it too – but Emma’s never been very good at actually voicing her emotions.

And Killian has always known anyway.

Plus Ruby would probably make fun of them.

“Did you feel that?” Emma asks softly, another unnecessary question. They need to get out of Storybrooke. She’s going to bake twenty-six pies. At least.

Killian nods. “Did you hear that?” “The buzzing?” “The buzzing.” “Yeah, I did.” “Ok, good.” “Good?” Emma echoes, and her voice cracks traitorously on the word. Killian moves, shifting his weight back onto his heels as soon as she presses her lips back together. He wiggles his fingers, like he’s trying to stop himself from touching her and Emma is fairly sure she doesn’t imagine his mumbled fuck it before he reaches forward, stopping just short of the bend in her knee. He doesn’t touch her.

That’s for the best.

Or so she’ll tell herself on loop while she bakes those twenty-six pies.

“It means we’re both equally crazy,” Killian mutters, Ruby cackling at the sentiment. Emma blinks, not quite crying, but drifting dangerously close and her shoulders droop when she exhales loudly.

“Yeah, I think it might be exactly that.”

“Well, now that we’ve settled all of that,” Ruby announces, stuffing what appear to be a few receipts into her jacket pocket, “let’s say we evacuate the crime scene, do a little bit more research on some kind of mythical darkness from the outer reaches of space and then maybe get Jones some new clothes to wear?” "I really don’t think we’re dealing with aliens,” Emma reasons.

“And where exactly do you suggest we get me new clothes?” Killian adds, holding his arm out when Emma moves towards the office door. She mutters gentleman under her breath and he winks at her. “I don’t know that some kind of makeover montage is really in order,” Ruby sticks her tongue out. “I have clothes.” “I’m not sure I’d be able to keep my balance in your heels.” “Yeah, yeah, you’re absolutely hysterical. And you couldn’t even hold your own in my heels. But you might be able to do something in some t-shirts.” “At least solve a few more crimes.” “I think we’re still just dealing with one.” “Small miracles,” Emma mumbles. “Although you should get some new clothes. These are…” She doesn’t finish – not sure if it’s offensive or just plain ridiculous, but they were also just talking about aliens, so Emma figures she’s well within her right when it comes to ridiculous.

“Yeah, it is a little macabre, isn’t it?” Killian asks.

“Good word.” “Voracious reader with a very smart vocabulary.” “Is that what you tell all the girls when you meet them?” He snorts. Ruby groans. “No,” Killian says. “That’s what Shakespeare used to say when I’d use that same smart vocabulary to tell him that no one was interested in hearing another soliloquy.” “Did he recite soliloquies often?” “Almost as often as he liked to critique my clothing choices. He was never very big on the leather jackets.” Emma’s reaction to that is one-hundred percent more ridiculous than the alien idea. “Huh.” The tips of Killian’s ears go red.

“That was super smooth, Em,” Ruby mutters, ushering them both back into the hallway as soon as the footsteps in the hallway start to grow louder. “But I’m not super interested in getting arrested this afternoon, so, if you two would be so kind…”

Emma nods quickly, Killian tugging his hat further down and pushing the sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. They’re back in the car, key turning in the ignition when they hear, what Emma assumes, is Aurora’s scream.

“How did you decide you wanted to open a pie place?”

Emma tilts her head, several hours after a fashion clinic in Ruby’s apartment and Ruby’s absolute refusal to explain why she had so much disposable clothing of the men-type variety. “Pie place,” she repeats slowly, stirring the mixture in front of her.

Killian grabs a strawberry.

“Ok, stop that,” Emma snaps, but there’s a distinct lack of annoyance in her voice. It’s almost too obvious how easily he’s charming her. “We’re not going to have anything to put in the pie. And this was your idea.” It was – laden down with at least a week’s worth of clothes and a few options for shirts because, you know, you need some extra shirts, Jones, Killian and Emma had walked back to her restaurant, slightly cautious steps because, for the first time since this had all started, there was a break in the action and a lull in the momentum and he asked if she’d bake something.

“I can help,” Killian added quickly, flashing her a smile, her smile , and Emma couldn’t argue with that. He’d probably been banking on that.

“And it was a very good idea,” Killian says. “I’m just trying to spark some conversation while you do whatever it is you’re doing. What is it you’re doing, incidentally?” “Making crust.” “You make your crust?” “Oh my God, that’s honestly the rudest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Killian shakes his head, reaching forward to try and steal a handful of raspberries. “That can’t possibly be true.” “It is and then some,” Emma promises. “You think I...what? Use frozen pie crust in my actual pie restaurant? That’s ghastly.” He nearly chokes on his handful of raspberries. “Did you just suggest that frozen pie crust is ghastly? Did that really just happen?” “It is. It’s all processed and there’s way too much sugar in it and it’s not good. It’s...there’s no feeling involved.” Killian doesn’t freeze, exactly, but it’s awfully close and Emma wonders if, maybe, some of Cora’s claimed magic has shifted to him. Like a magical barnacle. She kind of feels as if he can see straight into her or through her, she’s not sure which is worse.

“You bake with a lot of feeling, Swan?”

“No,” Emma grumbles. She needs to find a whisk. And buttermilk. “Can you open the fridge for me? And if you try and steal any more of my filling, I’m going to hide all your clothes on you and then what will you do?” “That seems to suggest you think I won’t leave the apartment in your clothes.”

“I bet you a magillion dollars you would not do that.” His shoulders shake with his laugh – the sound finding its way to Emma’s ears despite most of his head pushed into the refrigerator. “How many zeros would you say are in a magillion? Also what am I looking for in here? You haven’t actually given me any instructions.” “Oh, uh, buttermilk and just like...as much butter as you can carry.”

“That is not very specific.” “I don’t need it to be specific.” Killian glances at her over his shoulder, a wry look on his face and the prickle of something at the base of Emma’s skull kind of feels like sticking her hand into a fire. It’s not uncomfortable, just little brushes of warmth and familiarity, but she’s a little worried about getting burned by the whole, entire thing.

She wishes she’d stop thinking in metaphor.

“Isn’t baking some kind of exact science?” Killian asks. “I always thought you had to follow a baking recipe to the letter.” “Whoever told you that was a great, big, enormous liar.” “Wow, that is just...a sweeping judgment.” Emma shrugs. “It’s true. Baking is, well, at least for me, it’s instinctual. God, did that sound as weird out loud as I think it did?” “It didn’t.” He has to bump the refrigerator door closed with his hip, which probably shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. “But it did sound as if you’re baking with a little bit more than feeling, love. So, let’s have it. Why’d you open the pie place?” Emma considers her answer for a moment – the idea of lying about it particularly appealing, but then he’s dumping ten sticks of butter onto her counter and there’s a jug of buttermilk pinned to his side with his blunted arm and anything except the absolute truth seems entirely unfair.

To both of them.

“It always felt like home,” Emma says. “And I’m...well, at the risk of sounding like a melodramatic idiot, this is something I’m really good at.” “That’s not melodramatic. It’s not entirely true, but it’s not melodramatic.” “You don’t know enough about me to know it’s not true.” Killian shakes his head, the smile on his face making it very difficult to come up with all those reasons Emma was so certain of a few seconds before. “I think I still know you pretty well. And I know you’re far too hard on yourself. It’s not necessary. Although,” he adds, grabbing a stick of butter and a knife, “you want these chopped?” “Yes, into, like...just, you know follow the lines on the wrapper? Was that your follow-up question?” “No, no, I just figured I should continue to pull my weight around here.” “It’s been kind of a ridiculous few days, I think you could get a pass.” Another head shake. This one is a little more tired and a little more anxious and several of Emma’s internal organs lurch at the sight. “I’d be very interested in knowing every single about you from the last twenty years.” She giggles. An honest to God, real life giggle. It feels like it bubbles straight out of her soul and explodes into rainbows and those little animated hearts that showed up on the Saturday morning cartoons they used to watch when they were kids, the ones that always showed how in love a character was.

Damn, Emma hates when Ruby is right.

“What do you want to know?” Emma asks, and Killian beams. While cutting up butter.

They’re sitting on the floor of the kitchen twenty minutes later, pie in the oven and a bowl of berries in between them – We’re getting real berries, Swan, if you’re going to bake the pie, the least you can do is eat it too – and Emma knows her teeth are stained blue. It doesn’t seem to be bothering Killian, who doesn’t seem to have an end to his list of questions.

“Ok, what about prom?” “What about it?” “Did you go?” “And you dare to suggest you know me.” He rolls his head onto his shoulder, unimpressed. “I don’t need to rehash old points of the conversation, Swan. An answer, please and thank you.” “No,” Emma shakes her head. “I was...somewhere at that point, shit, when are you supposed to go to prom?” “I don’t know, I didn’t go.” “You didn’t go?” “Do you know me? It was far too middle America. I had no use for corsages or tuxedos or spending all that money on a limo to just stand awkwardly on a dance floor. Plus, you know, it’d probably help to have some friends who would want to go. Or a girl.” He mumbles the last few words, refusing to meet Emma’s gaze and she hates how stunned she is. She’s incredibly stunned. “God, what a bunch of idiots.” “Who? Me and you?” “No, well, yes, but mostly the teenage population of Storybrooke whenever you’re technically supposed to go to prom. Probably like sixteen, right? They’re the idiots. I bet you’d be a great dancer anyway.” Killian chuckles, soft and still a little nervous, which makes Emma’s organs react again, but she’s also pretty positive she can feel something in the admittedly minimal amount of space between them and it might be magic.

She kind of hopes it’s magic.

It feels a lot like what she thinks magic would feel like.

“That’s an awful lot of confidence you’re throwing my direction, Swan.” “I’m not throwing it,” Emma argues. “I’m placing it. Lightly. At your feet. Which I’m sure are incredibly rhythmic.” “I’d at least be able to ask Shakespeare for some lessons. I’m sure he’s got tips.” Emma hums, not entirely in agreement, but mostly in contentment. “When’d you get your first leather jacket?” “I was fourteen.” “Wow, a bad boy from a very young age.” “Nah, a wanna-be. Mostly because I thought it’d make me look cool and, well...I remembered Liam having one when he was younger.” Emma doesn’t gasp. She’s proud of herself for that. She does, however, lick her lips and that might be worse because Killian notices and that means Killian is looking at her lips. It suddenly feels impossibly warm in her kitchen.

“That must have been before I got to Storybrooke,” Emma murmurs, and Killian nods.

“Yeah, I think it must have been. Ok. What about…movie...snack?” “Popcorn. With melted malt balls on top.” Killian makes a scandalized noise, complete with tongue and that only means Emma is also staring at her lips. Maybe they are the idiots of this story. “That is disgusting,” he proclaims. “How do you make that?” “Oh, it’s a very refined recipe. Lots of boiling and melting and—” She can’t help but laugh when he gapes at her, some of the tension twisting in between her shoulders loosening at the color of his eyes. “C’mon. I use a microwave. It’s the least complex thing I make.”

“That still sounds disgusting. It can’t be very healthy.” “Strangely enough I’m not thinking about my blood pressure when I’m watching movies.” “Favorite?” “Hmmmm?” “Your favorite movie,” Killian says, pausing between every word as if Emma is under oath and the fate of several different galaxies rests on her answer. They’re not actually dealing with aliens. “When we were kids it was—” “—Still is. That, uh...that hasn’t changed.”

He’s silent for a moment, another far too charged moment with irregular temperatures and the growing scent of a pie with way more berries than the recipe called for hanging in the air. And then he’s moving, reaching up towards the counter and knocking the roll of saran wrap on the floor, plastic spilling at his feet.

“Ah, damn,” Killian sighs. “That’s not nearly as romantic as I was hoping it would be.” Emma clicks her tongue. “I think it went ok.” “Something about kissing, right? At the end? Most passionate, most pure...this one left them all behind. That’s how it goes?” “Yeah,” she breathes, yanking off a far-too-long sheet of saran wrap. “Is this a kissing book?” “I’d very much like it to be.”

Emma giggles again – straight into the plastic and against his mouth and she sees him shift, doing his best to keep any other limbs away from her and how much she wants to touch his goddamn hair. They stay in each other's space for a moment, quick kisses that turn back into longer ones that turn into quick and bruising and a slew of other adjectives that probably look ridiculous to anything else.

It feels a little life-changing to Emma.

Killian is the first one to make a noise that time, a victory of the make-out variety for Emma and her distinct lack of make-out experience. He opens his mouth against her, like he wants to tug on her lower lip or do something that involves the tongue that’s been distracting her all day, and both of those are impossible. Emma appreciates the effort.

“I stole gloves from Ruby’s apartment,” Killian mumbles through the plastic against her chin, and Emma startles at that.

“Is that code?” “We should come up with a code. I bet that’d infuriate Ruby.” “You’ve known Ruby for point two seconds and you’re already trying to infuriate her?” “Don’t forget stealing from her. That’s really the important part.” “Why’d you steal glove?” Emma asks, still a little breathless and a little giggly and a little something after all those kisses. And she kind of knows the answer.

Killian kisses her through the crumpled-up plastic again. “To hold your hand.”

“Emma. Emma, are you there?” Emma blinks blearily, trying to take in her surroundings and there isn’t anything there. She’s standing on nothing, nothing but darkness around her and a distinct lack of anything. The voice yells her name again.

“What the hell…” Emma starts, stumbling backwards when she blinks and there are two people standing in front of her.

The woman is shorter than the man, dark hair in a pixie cut and a soft look to her eyes that feels like it could wrap around Emma and protect her for the rest of forever and, at the same time, cut down anyone who dared to threaten that. The man isn’t much taller than Killian, hair almost sandy in color and a set of his jaw that feels far too familiar.

Emma curses. It’s distinctly piratical.

The woman’s eyebrows leap. “Oh,” she mutters, but the man is laughing and he sounds kind of proud. “Well, that was...I mean, that’s fair.”

“What is going on?” Emma demands.

“You have to listen to us, Emma. This is important and there isn’t much time. But...things are happening now that have been destined to happen since, well, the dawn of time—” “—What?” “Don’t interrupt,” the man chides. He’s smiling at Emma. And it all feels like déjà vu and answers to questions Emma’s never wanted to ask for fear of what she’ll find out. She bites her tongue.

“It’s going to get difficult, sweetheart,” the woman continues. “But it won’t always be like that. You won’t always be like that. And, I promise, he’ll understand.” Emma blinks. “Who? Who will understand, what?”

“It’s going to be worth it, Emma. No matter what you think. Love is always worth it.”

Emma opens her mouth to ask what the hell are you talking about again, but she takes a breath and everything shimmers and her phone is ringing.

“You’ve got to answer that, love,” Killian mumbles, back on the living room floor with a glove on his right hand and fingers brushing Emma’s forearm.

Emma shakes her head, trying to get rid of metaphorical and possible literal cobwebs and she’s already having a difficult time remembering what she just saw. She grabs her phone off the coffee table, nearly hitting her head in the process and Ruby is already talking as soon as Emma swipes her thumb across the screen.

“Em,” she says sharply. “You’ve got to get down here. They found another body.”

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #one foot in #MAGIC #MAKING OUT #MAYOR MILLS BEING A PROBLEM #nailed the alliteration #i'm still sad about the rangers that's my excuse for everything

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gloves94 · 5 years ago

Text

Sunburn [Prince Zuko] 38

Warnings: Cursing, Blood, Violence, Death? Rating: PG-13 /M? Pairings: Zuko/OC

Sunburn Chapter M A S T E R L I S T My fan fiction M A S T E R L I S T

Appa bellowed loudly as the skies he flew turned red.

Katara, Tsai and Zuko approached the Fire Nation’s Mainland soaring the crimson skies, wind strongly beating against their faces, fear and anticipation building up in them as their emotions stirred.

Zuko had an apprehensive look on his face, Tsai looked fearful as they both starred at the grim predicament, they were in. Katara was eyeing both of them from the side. The three of them huddled on top of Appa’s large head.

“Don’t worry guys. We can take Azula,” Katara said reassuringly trying to squeeze an ounce of optimism from either of them.

“I’m not worried about her,” Zuko responded with a frown. “I’m worried about Aang. What if he doesn’t have the guts to take out my father? What if he loses?”

“Aang won't lose. He's gonna come back” Katara stated confidently, then she looked straight ahead again. "He has to. He told Tsai himself.”

“Right?” Katara turned seeking for some reassurance. Who simply kept her eyes glued to the main land in the horizon. This was it, the red ashen skies from her nightmares. “I can feel it.” She confessed. “The comet…”

Her stomach churned with unease. She could feel its energy making her heart beat faster, her heart pound harder and faster against her rib cage.

Xxx

Fire Lord Ozai leapt off the zeppelin and landed on a pillar before Aang. His menacing golden eyes narrowed as he stared down the young Avatar that stood before him.

As promised Aang had returned from the Spirit World to defeat the Fire Lord and bring an end to the war.

"After generations of Fire Lords failed to find you, now the Universe delivers you to me as an act of providence."

"Please listen to me." Aang spoke steadily, staring at the Fire Lord pleadingly hoping they could reach a peaceful agreement. All of his surroundings engulfed in vibrant flames from the Fire Lord’s attack which burned ardently consuming everything in their path. "We don't have to fight. You have the power to end it here and stop what you're doing."

"You are right." Fire Lord Ozai deliberated, his lips curling at the corners in a malicious sneer, "I do have all the power. I have all the power in the world!"

Ozai tossed his head back and hellish amounts of flames erupted from his wide-open mouth and hands as he roared. Aang shut his eyes tightly for a moment before shifting into a defensive bending stance. If the Fire Lord wasn’t going to give him a choice…

Xxx

The Fire Nation’s Royal Plaza stood abandoned. Not a single soul to witness the coronation of their rising Fire Lord. The skies were painted in that horrendous shade of mandarin.

Azula knelt wearing a set of elegantly crafted regal robes. Her head lowered and eyes closed. Behind her stood a handful of Fire Sages, all with their hands hidden in their cardinal sleeves.

"...By decree of Phoenix King Ozai," The crowning Fire Sage who stood behind her spoke the ceremonial words loudly as he held up the Fire Lord’s head piece crown. "I now crown you Fire Lord-"

The Fire Sage grew silent. His eyes widening at the incredible sight. Azula narrowed her eyes and turned to scowl menacingly at the distracted elder Fire Sage.

"What are you waiting for?! Do it!" Azula pressed urgently.

Hearing a loud bellow, Azula snapped her head in the direction of the noise and witnessed a flying bison soaring over the plaza landing directly in front of the staircase from where she knelt with the Fire Sages. Appa landed with a heavy thud and she saw her brother standing on the bison’s large head.

"Sorry, but you're not going to become Fire Lord today." He stated determinedly as he jumped off the sky bison's head and faced his sister. "I am."

Azula let out a mocking laughter and held onto her stomach as if it was the funniest darn joke she had ever heard. "You're hilarious."

“I see you brought back something that belongs to me.” Azula added with a malicious grin as her eyes landed on her ‘pet’. “I’ll admit. Your betrayal was painful, but I’ll have time to teach you some new manners.” She glared at the girl with the red hair, her eyes burning with grit.

Tsai stood tall next to Zuko a deep scowl on her features hands clenched at her sides in resentment.

“You’re a monster Azula.” She cried out angrily.

Azula flinched a little. Those words they weren’t hers, they were her mother, Ursa’s bitter words. Her golden eyes widened slightly in injure. Schizophrenic words echoed in Azula’s head. Everything was a lie. Her mother. She had pinned them all against her, confused them, conditioned them into hating her just like she had.

“You’re a monster Azula and I won’t hold back this time!” She threatened venomously.

"You're going down." Katara said standing beside the two Fire Nationers.

The three braced ready to attack. The Fire Sage behind once again raised the head piece crown ready to crown her-

“Wait,” she raised a hand signaling him to stop the ceremony.

The Fire Sage stepped back and Azula rose to her feet stepping forward. "You want to be Fire Lord?” She sneered at her older brother. “Fine. Let's settle this. Just you and me, brother. The showdown that was always meant to be. You win you get the throne. However, I win and I…" Her mouth stretched into the beam of an unstable person as she began laughing uncontrollably in unstable loud fits. The later part of her bargain left unsaid.

"Agni Kai!" She roared eyes blazing.

Zuko was gritting his teeth as he starred down at his sister, his knuckles turning white from tightening them so hard at his sides.

“You’re on.”

Azula’s lips stretched into an evil smile.

Katara turned to look at him surprise. "What?" “What are you doing? She’s playing you.” She said in disbelief. “She knows she can’t take the three of us so she’s trying to separate us.”

“You can’t be flipping serious?!” Tsai turned to look at Zuko in equal shock almost pulling at her hair. “I know that the Agni Kai is sacred and what not- but- You cannot be serious. We can take her down, the three of us. Together.”

“I can take her,” Zuko repeated frustrated.

“I know you can,” Tsai sighed. She didn’t doubt his skill, she just wanted to be helpful. “But we came here to help you.” “We came because you yourself admitted to your uncle that you’d need help facing her!” Katara added.

"I know." Zuko replied softly without taking his eyes off his sister’s. He took in her appearance. There was… something off about her. Azula looked unbalanced. Almost unstable. Feral. Her hair had been shredded and poorly chopped. The look in her eyes the one of a lunatic. "But I can take her this time." He reassured both girls who exchanged a concerned look. “There's something off about Azula. I can't explain it, but she's slipping." He closed his eyes for a moment and looked at the girls that stood by his side. ‘Well obviously! She’s officially lost her mind!’ "And this way, no one else has to get hurt..." He finished.

Tsai felt agitated and looked at him with worry. “Trust me,” he said looking at her unwavering. Zuko wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to either of his friends. Specially to Tsai… A determined glint glowing in his eyes. She looked at him with worry and slowly nodded accepting his decision.

Moments later Zuko and Azula stood on opposite ends of the Capital’s Plaza kneeling back to back. Zuko stood up and turned around. Across from him Azula mimicked his pose and casually dropped her Fire Lord robes off her body with a careless hand toss.

“I’m sorry it has to end this way, brother.” She smiled at her brother cruelly her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“No, you’re not.” Zuko stretched out an arm assuming an offensive fire bending stance narrowing his eyes at his opponent.

Tsai and Katara stood on the side lines. One was fidgeting uneasily as she witnessed the terrifying unraveling scene.

“Calm down,” Katara kept whispering in reassurance trying to help her friend get a grip of herself and her volatile emotions. Azula's looked demented as a wicked smile stretched across her features. She moved forward with her hands up, leering at him through her spread out fingers. She wasted no time in attacking spinning in one fluid motion and thrusting a fist forward shooting out an illuminating blast of blue flames at her brother.

Zuko raised his hands up and leapt forward bringing his arms down fire bending two waves of blazing fire from each hand. The fires merged together and shot forward, colliding with the blue flames in a great wall of flames which extended all across the plaza.

Katara and Tsai could feel the heat of the flames radiating, the blasts whipping at them. “Stand back,” Tsai said stepping protectively in front of Katara knowing that if anybody could take the heat it was her.

Azula leapt forward as the flames dissipated and kicked a blast of fire before consecutively kicking wave after wave of blue fire at her enemy. The fight continued for some time now. The fire of the fight leaping off into all nearby buildings, licking and consuming everything in its way with destruction.

Tsai felt ill seeing all of the destruction unfold before her. She didn’t even want to think about what must be happening in Ba Sing Se, or in the air fleet or if Aang had even made it back in time to take down the Fire Lord.

The fighting raged on, neither of the siblings backing down. Zuko focused on Azula thrusting a fist forward releasing a powerful blast of fire that collided with hers. The flames so great, so massive that they filled and burned all the way across the Royal Plaza. The force of the ignited blast slowly pushing Zuko backwards as his feet slipped. The two stopped simultaneously and Azula looked back eyes wide shocked that her brother had actually managed to do so much damage.

She wouldn’t lose.

She took a ragged breath, one fueled by a consuming fear and rage. She was supposed to be stronger than him. She was supposed to be Fire Lord. She was supposed to be perfect.

Azula took a step back and performed a roundhouse kick blasting herself up in the air in a jet of blue flames which she then swung down at her brother’s direction. Zuko managed to expertly spin right before the flames reached him and split the ocean of fire in half. The flames dispersing before him.

Azula heaved and panted heavily, she gritted her teeth and seethed in boiling rage. This was not possible. She would not lose. The sight of her brother appearing so calm and collected drove her over the edge of sanity.

Still standing across from her he thrust a flame full fist forwards and launched massive fireballs at Azula. The two balls entwined becoming one powerful blast which Azula narrowly avoided. It had been close.

Katara heard Tsai curse under her breath. As she protectively pushed her behind her body, shielding her from any lost flames that might come their way. She starred with her eyes glued to the prince with unnerving attention. Her anxious hand tugged at her sun stone necklace nervously.

The princess growled and propelled herself forward gliding forward rapidly using fistfuls of fire jets shooting from both her extended limbs. She didn’t hesitate in blasting fistfuls of fire towards him. He lowered his hands and firebending a powerful blast he leapt high into the air avoiding Azula’s attack. He spun mid-air bringing his heel down shooting an arc of flames which blocked her blasts. He landed and pressed his hands together bringing them down in one swinging motion which split right through Azula’s wall of blue fire.

The two girls on the side gawked with wide eyes. Tsai knew that Zuko was a powerful bender but this… She could have never imagined this level of mastery over the art.

He crouched with his arms extended as kaleidoscopic flames of blue, orange, red and violet wisps swayed surrounding him. Azula swerved rounding near him and shot without mercy a tail of blue flames tailing at her feet.

He defended himself by firebending a massive sphere of flames around himself as a barrier against the fireballs she shot as she circled around him. Growing sick of being in the offensive he spun on the floor creating several swift kicks that created a powerful ring of fire. Azula tried to stop in her momentum from crashing into the flames and tried counteracting the incoming flames but failed.

She let out a loud grunt as she violently fell forward, rolling across the floor and bouncing a few times before rolling to a painful stop. Azula was determined and panting with ragged breaths she stood up hunched over growling in race. An untamed mane of hair came undone her predatory eyes fixed on her brother.

"No lightning today?” Zuko taunted as Azula straightened out a deep scowl on her face. Her eyes grew dark and hollow at her brother’s gibes. “What's the matter?" Zuko called out, his angrily thrusting his palm forward. "Are you afraid I'll redirect it?"

"Oh!" Azula snarled still heaving as she straightened out her back; shoulders still dropped to the sides. "I’ll show you lightning!" She screeched in frustration.

Azula waved her arms and pointed fingertips in circular motions as she prepared for a lightning attack. Her movements were grand, yet sloppier than usual. Electricity charged around her as a crackling atmosphere of lightning surrounded her. Zuko took in a deep breath and extended out an arm ready to receive the impact from the lightning.

A wicked grin, the one belonging on the face of a maniac, made her skin seem almost paper like. Her eyes turned into slits as she focused on her brother- Her eyes turned to the colonial girl that stood in front of the waterbender. Azula’s smiled stretched further making her face ache. Taking someone’s life was easy… Breaking someone’s spirit? She couldn’t wait to see the look on her brother’s face. Azula had never been one to share. If she couldn’t have her neither would he.

“Sorry pet…” She said to herself.

Azula thrusted an arm forward her fingers aimed directly at Tsai.

Electric zapping erupted from her fingers.

Zuko’s eyes widened in horror at the realization.

Tsai pushed a petrified Katara behind her back. The sparks of blue lightning reflecting on the irises of her eyes. She starred at the incoming bolt bracing for the impact to strike. His blood ran cold. he turned and using every ounce of strength he had to run towards the lightning. It all happened so fast. He lunged forward leaping between the lightning strike and the girls.

"Noooo!" Zuko shouted, extending out his finger catching the lightning in midair. Zuko absorbed the lightning, the electricity aggressively crackling around him. Katara and Tsai watched struck in horror.

Tsai rushed forward instantly. Her heart throbbing. Breath shaking. She looked up at the red skies, the raining ash. This was it. Her vision. Her nightmare. Zuko hit the ground, lightning shooting out of his other arm and into the air above. Tsai watched in dread as his body violently jerked and twitched. Blue static still lingered and seem to jump off his skin as the remaining current of electricity coursed through him. He groaned as he twisted in excruciating agony. He brought his legs to his chest and rolled on his back clutching his chest.

“Zuko!” She let out a soul-splitting shouted before reaching him. “No, no, no, no…” She whispered repeatedly. Then stood back when a whip of lightning cracked before her feet. She winced and looked up, teeth gritting.

Screw tradition and sacred Fire Nation rituals. Azula was a liar and a cheat. She was going down.

“Katara…” The colonial girl said slowly. She raised one of her legs to the back and slowly pulled out the last knife she kept hidden under the sole of her foot. She twirled the small knife in her hand, the one that Azula had once stabbed her side or her shoulder with she had forgotten which one was which. She could feel a raging fire burning inside of her. She was more than eager to return it. This was for everything she had ever done to her, all the spoken and unspoken abuse she had disclosed, all the things she had done to Zuko, to Iroh... “Heal him, please...” She said looking over her shoulder. “You have to save him. No matter what happens.”

Katara protested.

“Promise?” She turned for a moment and looked at Katara with hard eyes. Faltering the girl nodded, ceding to Tsai’s wishes.

Azula stumbled uneasily on her feet, her head lolled to the side making her resemble a possessed doll. She cackled manically and advanced preparing to strike again.

Flames crackled around the plaza as Zuko struggled to get up, painfully groaning as he did.

Tsai eyed Azula warily. Long-distance attacks were not her forte and she didn’t have any hidden blades, smoke bombs hidden or other tricks hidden up her sleeves. All she had was a small knife. It’s not like she had a choice. She’d stop her even if she had to do it with her bare hands.

She huffed as she ran towards Azula summoning all the courage she could. Azula laughed evilly blasting a bolt in her direction. She ducked almost falling but continued to advance. Azula leapt up in the air doing a roundhouse fire kick landing with a blue fire blast and again blasting a bolt of lightning.

Smoke rose up in the air from the hit.

Tsai threw herself at the ground quickly rolling away kneeling. She looked back and saw there was enough distance between her Katara and Zuko. Katara had reached Zuko and was now healing him with her waterbending powers.

“I’d really rather out family physician look after little Zuzu. If you two don’t mind.” Azula cocked her head to the side. Her eyes fixed on her injured brother and the Southern Water Tribe girl. She took a powerful stance and did circular motions ready to blast. Lightning fired from her fingertips gravely missing and instead hitting a nearby roof which exploded making more ash and ember rain.

Azula sneered looking down at the girl that held her arm up. She winced slightly at the small shock that coursed through her body making the ends of her hair stand up erected. “I’m not scared of you.” Azula laughed cruelly almost mockingly. “You should be.” Tsai spat back angrily ignoring the small burn that had blistered in her hand.

Her hand wrapped around Azula’s fingers intertwining them in a deathly grip. Azula’s eyes slightly widened as her enemy’s face turned into menacing expression, eyes growing dark. Azula attempted pulled away from her grip but failed. Azula saw her enemy’s other hand come down in a slicing motion.

She fought back blocking her hand and in the same expertly motion hitting Tsai’s face leaving behind scratch marks. Azula once again attempted to pull her hand away but failed. She could feel Tsai’s nails burying into her skin, scraping into it, drawing blood from the tightness.

Azula couldn’t lightning bend if she couldn’t perform the circular motion that allowed her to separate the yin and the yang form her energy. Something Tsai had learned from witnessing Iroh attempt to teach it to Zuko back when they journeyed through the Earth Kingdom.

Tsai winced and in turn kneed Azula in the stomach. Azula bent over in pain and raised her head about to headbutt her enemy when the opponents head came down both of their foreheads butting together. Azula recoiled as a single string of blood split down her forehead dividing it in two. Her opponent’s forehead was bruised, stained with a dark smudge of blood.

In a desperate attempt to set herself free Azula blasted fire from her heels and both of the girls moved across the plaza in a macabre dance of cobalt flames.

“Why won’t you let go?!”

“What’s wrong?” Tsai chuckled darkly as they moved. “I thought you wanted me to hold your hand.”

Azula’s eyes had narrowed into dangerous slits as she kicked up in the air. Tsai lost her balance and fell back still holding Azula’s hand in her own in a constricting grip. Azula pinned her enemy to the ground in a most demoralizing position. Tsai’s hand was numb from holding onto Azula’s so damn tightly, regardless she continued to dig her nails into her skin. Both of their palms now sweaty.

“You pesky half-blooded colonial peasant!”

One hand bound the two girls together the other became a tug of war as the knife was pointed more towards the girl on the ground. Tsai swallowed thickly, heaving as she saw the knife coming down.

“I pity you Azula, I really do…” She spoke in a strained voice through gritted teeth. Azula’s knee digging into her chest. “You’re a monster and because of that you will always be alone.”

“I could’ve given you everything!” The other roared loudly, her voice cracking, spitting at the girl below. “And you abandoned me! Just like her.”

Azula spoke referring to her mother. “But that’s okay.” She said in a softer tone, one that was somehow more terrifying than an angry one. “You don’t know any better. I know she got to you first. I know she told you to leave. Just like you she always preferred Zuko over me...”

‘What the fuck is she talking about?’ Tsai looked at her stumped by Azula’s breakdown.

Zuko watched in anguish and frustration from the opposing side of the of the plaza. He stretched out a hand in the direction where his sister had Tsai pinned down to the floor. Both fighting over a knife. He groaned in pain his chest aching in a burning ache. Katara’s eyes were focused on his fatal crimson wound. Beads of sweat sliding down as she focused her energy on saving the Fire Nation’s prince.

“I see now. The truth. The only thing standing between us.” Azula’s face twisted into an ugly scowl as she snarled. “This is fine. I hope you enjoy this as much as I will.” Azula’s eyes turned to her brother and Katara and she laughed with malice, the intent to kill behind her words.

Tsai’s lips drew into a thin line and she trusted her hips forward making Azula lose her balance collapse forward almost falling face first to the ground. Azula hoisted herself up with a hand letting go of Tsai’s knifed hand. Without wasting another moment, she did what she had been thirsting for months. Nothing could beat the satisfying feeling of sinking the knife into Azula’s back shoulder. Azula let out a cry and Tsai quickly rolled out from under her letting go of her hand. Quickly standing up. Concerned she turned for one moment to look at Katara and Zuko.

For one single moment.

It was only one moment…

“Watch out!” Katara shrieked.

Tsai turned and let out a painful scream before collapsing. She felt a crippling slicing sensation on the back of her foot specifically on her Achilles tendon.

“Bold of you to assume I don’t carry my own.” Azula smirked evilly before dropping her own knife on the floor.

Azula rose slowly, her injured shoulder slumped as she removed the knife on her back and also dropped it to the floor. She kicked the girl before her to the ground and stood on her neck digging her heel into her windpipe. Tsai choked and gasped for breath. Her hands clawing at Azula’s leg. “Sorry pet.” Azula cackled manically as she stretched her arms into arches triumphantly preparing to strike her thunderous victory.

“Azula… don’t… do... this…” She pleaded as she gasped for breath. “Please.”

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Tsai’s eyes bounced around the scene. She had to do something. Anything. Her hand stretched further and further for a nearby knife. Her fingertips barely scratching at it. She choked on her breath. Gasping for air. With a trembling hand she wrapped her fingers around the knife.

Azula aimed, pointed and fired.

Xxx

Darkness engulfed the world.

The sky blended from crimson to a starless lightless sky. The planet felt colder, emptier.

Mecha stood outside the entrance of the throne room in Yu Dao ready to face his father. He felt an internal swift and not the good kind. He looked out of a nearby window and saw the darkness his lost eyes lingering there for a moment as he thought of his sister with worry.

xxx

Ba Sing Se was also flooded by the same cloak of darkness.

The conflict between the Fire Nation military occupying the Earth Kingdom capital and the White Lotus continued to rage. When suddenly several Fire Nation tanks rolled to a stop. They opened for fire, but nothing happened.

The group stopped and looked up at the dark skies… Iroh noted something was off as he felt something falter inside of him.

Xxx

Aang sheltered himself inside of a sphere made out of rocks that he had made to protect himself from the Fire Lord’s blazing flames. His cruel worlds still echoing through his head.

"You're weak! Just like the rest of your people. They did not deserve to exist in this world, in my world." How those words stung on the one-hundred anniversary of the genocide of his people. "Prepare to join them. Prepare to die!"

The hot rock cocoon shock, pebbles breaking from its crust as it was struck by fire making the inside turn into a boiling sauna. Aang held his head between his knees. His breathing sharp and rapid as terror filled him. Every fire strike becoming hotter, closer. Beads of sweat slid down his forehead.

"Come on out Avatar!" Ozai roared through his cruel laughs. He sent several curved fire blasts at Aang’s shield before sending a straight blast at it directly. "You can't hide in there forever!"

The fire kept on coming. The shield wouldn’t last this long. The fire kept coming and coming-

Until it didn’t.

Aang felt as if something inside of him die. A mew disbalance in the universe suddenly shifting in his favor. Unsurely and breathlessly Aang slowly opened his eyes and removed his arms from the top of his head.

The fire… It was gone.

Xxx

Katara stood ready to try and counter anything Azula threw at them. The sky grew dark and that same darkness suddenly engulfed them. Zuko’s jaw went slack he felt as if something inside him die. He felt weak. Weaker than he’d ever felt. Something inside him perished.

Nothing happened.

Azula looked down at her finger’s with confusion and anger before pointing again. Nothing. Was she losing her mind? This wasn’t possible. She felt faint. As if something had been taken away from her. She stretched out her palms and firebended but nothing happened.

Her expression was contorted into one of fear and disbelief.

She heard a faint huff and looked down to see a haunting smile on Tsai’s smug expression. Azula removed her foot and she saw her trembling hand holding a blade that was sticking out of her chest. She gasped for air vehemently coughing for breath.

“No!” Azula dropped to her knees.

She looked at the body on the floor, her own body trembling. Her hands reached for the knife, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch it. Azula’s unstable mind raced. Tsai hadn’t done this, no, not her, not her pet. It had been her mother. Her own cruel mother that wanted her to suffer. It was her. She was the one to blame. She’s the one that had buried that dagger on her heart.

Katara rose to her feet an aggravated expression on her face. She looked at the dark skies above, it was just like that day in the Northern Water Tribe. Her eyes lingered on her injured friend across the Plaza. She had to save her, help her…

However, she’d have to take care of Azula before that.

“Azula!” Katara shouted gathering handfuls of water on her arms.

The princess looked up a horrified look on her face and impulsively yanked the blade out of the body on the ground. Tsai winced and brought her hand to her chest rolling over to her side. Azula stood quaking holding the small knife a fearful look on her face before turning and running the opposite way.

Katara chased after her.

Zuko stretched out a hand helplessly. Pain shot through him all the way to his core and he brought his arm back to his injured chest.

“Tsai…” He groaned in agony. He curled his hand around his body and painfully turned on his side.

He could see the girl laying on the ground across the plaza. Her eyes were shut tightly in a painful expression, her hand clutching the bleeding wound on her chest. ‘No, no, no, no…’ It took every ounce of strength he had. Every bit of his body ached sorely as he crawled across the plaza’s stone floor. His body scrapping as he did. His heart breaking. He kept on saying her name, mind and heart racing.

He crawled one hand before the other until he reached her after what felt like an eternity.

He was aching and with agonizing grunt he managed to sit up. He cradled her body holding her, wiping the hairs that stuck to her forehead back.

“Tsai… Why-why would you do this?” He said forcefully. He placed a hand on the open wound pressuring it. His hands hot and wet with the dark blood that felt like hot oil against his hands. He had no more strength left in him as he felt his soul splitting.

“It was the only way.” She whispered before violently coughing a line of blood trailing down her jaw.

Her eyes were opened but she couldn’t see anymore. She felt him holding her close, cradling her close to his body.

“Why are you acting like we’re going to die?” She croaked out weakly.

She could hear his ragged breathing. She felt him press his wet face against her own. He was violently shaking. She closed her eyes for a moment.

“I’ve got…”

He shook his head. “Don’t say it Tsai. Please,” he said in denial his voice breaking. “Please don’t…”

“I’ve got it.”

She went silent. Her body stiff in his arms. Her own hand slid off her chest limply falling to the floor. He looked at her and let out a shuddering breath.

Xxx

Katara stepped over a sewer grate. Azula held a knife over Katara’s head lunging forward ready to attack a crazed expression on her face. The waterbender leapt backwards and flung her arms up bending the water from beneath the plaza’s drains up and around them freezing it as it enveloped the two of them in the shape of a small glacier.

Azula’s eyes widened in panic and darted around as she stood petrified inside the icicle that encased her and her madness. She tried with all of her strength to move her hand but failed.

Katara closed her eyes and calmly exhaled, the ice surrounding her melted away allowing her to move freely while the princess remained encased and immobilized. The waterbender raised the metal chain she was holding and moved around Azula wrapping it around her extended arm, removing the knife, and wrapping it around the other arm securing the chain down to the grate with both arms behind her back; successfully immobilizing the enemy.

Xxx

Zuko’s eyes were shut tightly. He silently cried holding her body in his arms not wanting to let her go. When he was suddenly taken back by a glowing light. His eyes opened and he saw she was radiating with a bright red light. Not the usual golden that he was familiar with whenever she became attuned with her spiritual side.

Katara looked back from the distance her expression mirroring his. Azula raised her head from the grates she was currently chained to carefully observing the scene.

The light was bright almost blinding and the plaza trembled as a massive dragon, its scales red like blood, with a gold beard and striking eyes stretched out its wings. Its roar made the Fire Nation tremble as it blew a stream of hot fire into the air. Its large eyes focused on Zuko and Tsai for a moment. It emitted smoke out of its nostrils and roared in ire before turning in the direction of Katara and Azula. It’s long tail swinging and angrily slapping against the floor.

Katara cautiously stepped away from the beast, hands raised up defensively. In an attempt to show she meant no harm or offense to the creature. Azula struggled against her bindings attempting to inch away from the ferocious creature that was approaching her.

“No.. No.. No…” She shook her head in disbelief. Dragons weren’t real. Dragon’s didn’t exist. The creature huffed; embers sparked from its mouth as it opened it to reveal dozens and dozens of large knife sharp teeth.

Both Zuko and Katara looked away from the scene that was about to occur. The only sound that could be heard were Azula’s horrifying shrieks as the dragon scorched her alive.

The dragon turned towards Katara and did a brief pause of judgement. It starred at her, its eyes menacing and unblinking. She stood paralyzed, her breath trembling and after a moment the dragon silently retreated back to the center of the plaza. Katara followed running behind it breathing harshly.

The dragon stopped before Zuko and Tsai. Again, it seemed to gaze in judgement. It bowed its head slightly almost like in reverence. Zuko could hear its fuming breaths as he inched closer and closer. Its massive red snout nudging him. He tried his best to hold the girl close to him, to shield her away from the creature.

The beast huffed lightly a deep low rumbling croaking emitting from the creature.

“You have to let her go Zuko,” Katara spoke softly placing a hand on his shoulder. Zuko looked at Katara and then at the calm expression of the girl he currently held in his arms. Hesitating, almost doubtfully he lowered her body. Careful with her head not to hit the pavement. Laying her down gently. Using Katara’s help he rose to his feet and stepped back holding his own aching body. His lost gaze fixed on the body’s on the ground.

The dragon stretched its snout forward and sniffed the body. An odd expression on its face. It almost looked… irked? It placed a heavy claw on top of her before arching its neck and letting out another loud roar. One that made Katara wince and cover her ears. Coming down in one smooth motion it breathed a burning stream of fire down to the girl. Her body engulfed in flames. Zuko and Katara stepped back starring in awe.

Xxx

“You stupid girl.” Huo hissed angrily.

The dragon stood in an emptiness of limbo, where the dead and the undead met. The veil between the two worlds thinnest. It was a dull place lit by a warm light.

“You could’ve killed us both.” It scolded the soul before him. “Do you know what that would’ve meant? For you? For the world?”

“You said it,” The girl stood before the dragon with a smug smirk on her features. “Could’ve. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You had a choice. Now we’re tethered for life.” She raised a brow. “Why’d you do it?”

“Because…” The dragon hissed rounding her. “Together we are amongst all things fire, power and life…” It finished with a huff resting its massive head next to her in an endearing manner.

“I think you secretly like me.” She laughed a little petting its muzzle. Huo rolled its golden eyes and let out a puff of smoke irritated.

“After this, we will part our separate ways, but now a part of me will always be with you.”

She nodded slowly and embraced the dragon.

“Tsai.” A male voice made her eyes snap open. She looked up raising her head in disbelief. Jumping to her feet.

He stood before her and the Sun Spirit. He was tall and stood with a straight back just like she usually did. Long face, brown eyes and a short white beard. He smiled a little his eyes crinkling.

“Grandpa!” She rushed to him her eyes watering and embraced him tightly. He stood relaxed and slowly he embraced his grandchild back. “Grandpa! What-What are you doing here?” She said wiping her lost tears from her eyes.

“This is the veil between the two worlds. Figured it was kind of early for your visit. I see you’ve met Huo.” He said nodding his head over to the dragon. “You two know each other?” She said looking between them. Again, the dragon looked away irritated. Sencha, her grandfather, smiled a little. “Of course. Him and your grandmother were together for a long time.”

“And you never told me?” Tsai let go of him and stepped back. “It… It wasn’t the right time. I wasn’t expecting my heart to suddenly give out like that, but then again one never foresees these things coming.” He said stroking his beard sagely. “You see, my son…” He combed his long white hair on the sides. “He’s beyond reasoning. Azah never saw beyond what the Fire Nation was. What war was. Always so focused on bringing pride to the mainland… Why do you think I never stepped down from the Governor’s post? I couldn’t have let you know with him around. Who knows what my son would’ve done…”

Tsai nodded in understanding. Honestly, who knows what he would’ve done. Would he have turned it in to the Fire Lord? Would he have kept her locked inside the walls of Yu Dao for his own vile intents and purposes? “And you?” She turned to look at the dragon with an irritated look. “Really? You couldn’t tell me?”

The dragon simply turned away from them.

“Huo gets sentimental when thinking about his old hosts. Big old softie, aren’t you?

The dragon grumbled puffing out a cloud of smoke. “She actually had some brain matter. Unlike this one.”

“Hey!” Said girl protested turning to glare at the giant lizard behind her.

“I fear we don’t have much more time but know that we will never be apart. Those who leave us never truly leave us. I hope you know that.” He smiled at her.

“Wait-“ She said. “Before you go. Grandpa your dream the one of uniting two nations into one… I don’t think that’s the best idea. I think we can do better. I have a new dream that I want to accomplish.” She said determinedly eyes blazing.

“The things that I’ve seen- that I’ve lived. Can you believe the things that non benders and benders, fire, earth, water and air all came together and the things that we have accomplished… Can you imagine what that would be like? If all nations were as open to embracing the other.”

“I look forward to seeing it,” he beamed looking down proudly at his favorite granddaughter.

“Before I go…” His grandfather looked at her seriously, his lips turning into an upside-down U. His tone and pose completely shifting to a defensive one.

“That disrespectful ill-mannered clod that came to throw a tantrum on the day of my burning. I don’t like him.” He said precariously.

“No one liked him grandpa. Not even I did, but he’s changed. He’s hardly the same person.” She explained trying to excuse Zuko’s inexcusable behavior from the day they met.

“People might change but their natures don’t. Don’t be a fool Tsai. He is troubled and I sensed he will always be. Especially when reasoning right from wrong...”

She remained silent at her grandfather’s words. Unsure of how to proceed. How to persuade the ghost that her loved one’s intentions were noble.

“In love, one always starts by deceiving oneself... And ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance." He added wisely hiding his hands into his sleeves. There wasn’t a strand of sympathy on his features.

“If you knew him, you’d love him. Just like I do...”

xxx

“Look!” Katara pointed at the skies.

The skies suddenly cleared. Light returned to the world as a dak mantle was revealed and a starry dusk was revealed. Fire benders felt a missing essence return to their being. Zuko could feel the fire inside him be ignited once again. Both him and Katara exchanged a confused look and watched as the gigantic dragon before them took flight soaring into the distance until it vanished. Both looked back down to see a glowing light. Just like in the Sun Warrior Island Tsai’s skin had turned golden and appeared to be emitting light. The ends of her hair had turned into golden and white wisps almost like rays of light.

Both Zuko and Katara dove to her side when they heard weak groaning. “Ow…” They heard a low moan. Slowly, painfully with a fully aching body the girl sat up. She clutched her head to the side, a splitting headache hurting her. Katara had brought both of her hands to her mouth and looked at the girl with teary eyes.

She looked at Zuko with her ruby colored eyes who was staring at her in disbelief. He dropped to his knees, kneeling beside her speechless.

“I tried to tell you I had it under control.” She said with a small smile.

He didn’t respond instead he lunged forward wrapping his arms around her tightly burying his head on her shoulder. Ignoring the pain that ached on his flesh wound. She hugged him back lightly. Before he winced from the pain.

“That’s right. You’re hurt,” she said looking at him with concern lightly touching his torso. “A-And you?” He said getting his voice back. “I’ll be just fine.” She smiled despite the sting she felt in her middle abdomen.

She sat up a little, sore, and turned her attention to Katara.

“Come here, both of you.” She said stretching her arms forward hugging them both tightly.

Both felt a rush of power surge through them and hugged her back. Katara felt the numb pain from fighting Azula vanish and Zuko felt the open wound on his chest heal. She cured them both with the energy that she could.

“That’s right,” Katara said in awe pulling away from the embrace after a moment. “The sun is life.”

Zuko held her tightly, unable to let go, his head still buried against her hair. He swayed lightly not letting go both of them now sitting on the ground.

“Zuko you can let go now” She said rubbing his back soothingly. He shook his head. Tsai looked at Katara feeling a little self-conscious at the public display of affection. “Come on,” she whispered in his ear.

The glowing ceased from her body as she returned to normality abandoning the spiritual state. Her eyes reverting to their natural color and hair to that odd shade of auburn red.

“Don’t do that again.” He said painfully through a strained tone.

“Or what?” She teased in hopes to ease the morose mood in the room. “You’ll come to the Spirit World and find me?” She laughed lightly.

He finally pulled away and grabbed onto her the hem of her shirt roughly. “I’ll walk to hell if I have to!” He said irately. Fixing his intense gaze on her. His face close to hers.

“Have I told you that you look cute when you’re worried?” She teased. He looked away irritated. He hated it when she said that to him. Leaning forward she kissed his nose and again hugged him. “Ugh… You can be such a child sometimes.” He grumbled annoyed, despite it all a smile on both of their faces. Relief washing over both of them at the realization that the fight was over.

Azula starred from a distance. Her skin scorching in bright red from the dragon’s flames. Her breathing rapid, short, and she burst into savage cries throwing her head back spitting blue flames from her mouth as she writhed in both pain and misery, writhing against her chains in hopes of breaking free. Moments later she had collapsed on her side, her good side, the one that hadn’t been burnt off by the creature and she sobbed uncontrollably. Broken.

The trio starred from afar in pity. Katara turned her gaze away uncomfortably. Zuko and Tsai starred with no emotions as the princess continued to shriek in enraged cries.

xxx

AN: Nobody: Me: Next chapter will be the final chapter! 🤡 (15 chapters later...) I just finished typing the last chapter. It was almost 20,000 so I had to split it into 2. Next chapter is the LAST. (Thank the Spiritsssss)

Sunburn Chapter

M A S T E R L I S T

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