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intergalactic-padawan · 3 years ago

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inquisitor - Ezra Bridger

Requested: yes, by the beautiful @raganbridger! Sorry for the wait, it's finally here!

Warnings: angst, dark side!reader, confusion, mentions of bad injuries/blood, betrayal

A/N: You asked for le angst, so here it is! I've had this idea for a long while and this request was the motivation I needed to start. LOTS of alternative endings were written, this was mostly the reason it took so long.

Pronouns of reader: she/her

*ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE! I make mistakes just like everybody else 😉*

-"oh, good, you're awake"

You sit and inhale sharply, focusing back on the real world, startled at the strange voice.

Well, not so strange per se. You knew who was talking to you. What was strange was why he was talking to you.

Before you can adjust your vision to the unfamiliar environment, the memories from hours earlier instantly come flooding back.

Malachor. The place where jedi go to die.

An easy kill for you and your inquisitor colleagues.

That's what they had said on the ship, at least. You, on the other hand, knew better than to underestimate how slippery those jedi could be - especially if they fought side by side, like they always did.

You remember cornering the younger one during the fight. His skill was minimal compared to yours, which would give you an advantage against his master if he were to die first.

The boy and his friends go after the sith holocron. There had been a blinding light when it was placed at the altar.

And also, the jedi knight who was blinded by your former master, Maul.

Maul.

Not only had the cursed man left you for dead years before, he had come back from hiding to haunt you and join forces with your other enemies.

But you were an inquisitor. You wouldn't - you couldn't let him get the best of you, not this time.

You feel a light hand pressing your forehead and recoil in fear, reaching for your lightsaber, only to feel it was not there.

-"whoah, woah, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you" - it was the padawan you'd been fighting before - Ezra Bridger. He had placed you and his master inside a cave in a planet you were not familiar with when you'd escaped Malachor.

You'd escapd Malachor? But how?

You couldn't have, unless he'd carried you back to his ship.

-"hey, hey, it's alright."

-"what do you want, jedi?" - you wince in pain again.

-"a thank you would be nice, actually. I did just save your life"

-"a foolish mistake. One you will pay for with yours"

You reach out for your lightsaber, but can't feel it anywhere close. Scouring with the force for its presence, you quickly realize he must have hidden it outside the place.

-"Nope, absolutely not" - just as quickly, he slaps your outstreched hand - "I may be an idiot, but i'm not stupid. Your lightsaber's not here, it's caused enough damage already."

You rub the hand he pushed away, more shocked at his actions than anything. How DARE he?

-"Then what do you want from me, if not revenge? Why treat my wounds if not to finish the battle we started?"

-"Listen, I'm not sure if it's the adrnaline or something, but you're in no condition to fight anyone any time soon"

-"You underestimete me, Jedi. Even in these conditions you would be no match for me."

-"Like I wasn't a match for you at the sith temple?"

At the mention of the event, images of the fight start to come back.

Back at the sanctuary, you drew him away from the fight, knowing his strengh lied with his allies. Only, you hadn't imagined your former master to join his side - not until you'd seen the holocron in Ezra's hands, at least. You'd warned him: "he will use it and throw you away. Like he did to me". Needless to say, he didn't listen.

Your vision starts to lose focus at the intensity of your anger and you groan in pain, not able to sit anymore. Driven by instinct, the padawan holds your side so you won't fall completely, pressing your abdomen and making you hiss in pain.

-"ah, looks like I was right. You're conscious, but not healed" - you feel yourself be adjusted back on the ground, too weak to fight him.

-"where are we? Why did you save my life?"

He hesitates, eyes studying you, like you might attack him any second and he still knew it.

-"not so sure" - he finally answers - "maybe because now you owe me one?"

-"Did you hit your head or something?" You scoff - "Make no mistake, I WILL kill you when the opportunity rises!"

-"And that is why your lightsaber privileges have been revoked for now."

You lock eyes, studying him like he had you. It made no sense- you'd followed his group to the sith temple, tried to kill him several times, called for the man who had murdered his strongest ally, Ahsoak Tano. Why was he helping you?

With a shiver, you realize he's still holding your side, not as firmly as before but still providing support for your back. Inhaling sharply, you graze his hand and he lets go instantly, realizing how close the two of you had gotten.

Standing up just as quickly, he brushes a strand of unruly hair our of his forehead, while you you clean your throat, diverting your attention to the exit of the cave. The rain pours on the large trees outside, but you can't make out much except for the fact that you're in a forest planet (maybe a moon?) and his ship is in less than ideal conditions to get out of it.

-"here" - Ezra kneels down with two bacta patches and a piece of fabric from a medical kit -"i felt your back was pretty sore, but didn't want to take off your shirt while you were out. Your cuts need cleaning."

You hesitantly take the items, using the rocks behind you as support to lean your body on. He stands up, hands on hips, and chuckles when you sniff the gel, suspicious.

With the small bit of privacy he gives you by turning around to check on his master, you fumble with your shirt, deciding to take it off in order to see better.

-"Need some help over there?" - he asks, hearing you grunt in frustration at not being able to reach some spots

-"Not from you, thank you very much"

-"Oh, so she CAN say thank you! That's a welcome change"

You throw the rag at his direction, irritated out of your mind. Who does he think he is??

He must sense the harmless ball of soaked fabric coming his way, turning around to catch it mid-air. Now that he's turned, you see a glimpse of amusement in his eyes at your rage, giving you the answer you needed as to why he went through the trouble of saving you; it was merely to see you suffer and laugh at your expense, apparently.

His expression quickly changed when he saw your bruised torso, however.

- "who did this to you?" - he whispers, and you look down at you look down at your sore ~ well, everything~, covered only by a wrap in the bust area.

-"As you said, jedi. I may be better than you, but you still gave me a decent challenge"

"No. I didn't even hit you there." - his serious reaction to your injuries had caught you off guard, you had to admit. - "those are old and deep, you shouldn't even be able to walk!"

-"I'm not, remember?" - you motion at your debilitated situation, unable to even sit down or cross your legs properly -"But i will be, soon. And then it's over for you"

-"you know what? I think if you wanted to, you would have killed me by now." - he shoots back and you're impressed at his audacity once again.

But he had a point. Why hadn't you attacked him yet?

Sure, you had no lightsaber or phisical conditions to stand, but your force abilities were still as strong as ever. You were vulnerable, but so was he, and you weren't kidding when you said you could deal with him even at your worse.

-"you know what? " - you cross your arms. He was playing with fire now - "maybe I might"

-"and why haven't you?"

-"because I wouldn't enjoy it as much." - you snap back venomously - "I want to see you suffer before I bring you to Lord Vader"

His expression darkens at the mention of Ahsoka's murderer. His whole body stiffens as he balls his wrists and clearly struggles to control his anger at the recent loss. For a moment, you fear you've gone too far, but reprimand yourself for worrying about his feelings over yours. You're not supposed to be anything more than indifferent to the weak and ruthless to those who dare oppose you.

-"Yeah, no matter what you do, you're still imperial scum"

You're not prepared for those words to affect you so much. You're supposed to have a response, but nothing coherent seems to come out of your mouth, so you settle for an an uncomfortable silence.

It doesn't last for long, however, as his comlink goes off. It's his droid, asking - no, demanding - that he go help him with repairs on the ship. He hesitates, looking at you and contemplating how bad it would be to leave you unnatended in the company of his defenseless master.

-"Dont worry."- You reassure him. -"I won't make his situation worse. Maul is the worse you can get, and I refuse to step that low"

You can see he doesnt like it, but leaves for a few moments before returning with what must be the droid that talked to him before. It was a C1 series unit with an orange top and a bratty atitude, you could tell that much by just seeing him interact with the jedi.

-"Chopper will stay here, just in case"

-"I understand. It's fine."

-"I wasn't asking if you were fine with it. Behave" - you can't be sure if his command is directed at you or the droid, but you weren't about to ask.

The coldness he now had to his voice was understandable - you had worked to get him to that emotional state - ,but you felt hurt at the change. The droid didn't do much to help you think clearly about what just happened, and by the look of it, your frustration would only grow bigger in the many hours it would still take to repair the ship to a normal flying condition.

'He thinks i'm imperial scum, huh?' - you think as you scour a pile of your belongings with the force, not too far away inside the cave.

Bad news, your lightsaber really wasn't there.

Good news, your wrist comm was.

'i'll show him imperial scum'

With a plan forming in mind, all you had to do now was be patient and wait for the right time. There's no exchange of words between the two of you when he gets back, which makes time fly by before he's betrayed by exaution and finally gives in to sleep. You take care of the droid easily after that.

Activating the tracking beacon, you start to leave the cave, but not before noticing the boy's lightsaber beside him. It was a bold move, he could easily wake up if you took it, but you knew that if he woke up to see you gone you'd need it to compensate for your injuries.

You were still on opposing sides, after all.

You knew there had to be an imperial ship near the planet, and they would pick up your signal in an instant when you called. Wallking to a less dense area of the forest, away from the crash site, you're proven right when, in a matter of minutes, a shuttle tripulated by four troopers and a senior lieutenant meet you on the ground.

-"and what of the jedi?" - the higher ranking woman asks when you finish your brief description of the events that led you there.

Well, not all events. You'd left out the part where Bridger had helped you recover.

You could just tell them to take the two jedi for excecution. You were supposed to do it, in fact.

-"it's just me. And the younger one's lightsaber" - you finally answer, not exactly knowing why you'd deliberately just saved them.

She nods curtly and escorts you back to the ship without a second glance. It was a good story so far, but you would have to work on it if your superiors were to believe it.

-"Wait- " - you start, second-guessing your motives for not giving away their location. One of the troopers turns to you expectantly.

-"yes, sir?"

You hesitate for a moment, ready to do what you'd beeen taught to do your whle life. Kill the jedi.

Kill the jedi.

A tingling crept up your sides, where the padawan had touched earlier to give you support. You try to betray the gut feeling pressing you to do your duty as an inquisitor, but it's stronger than you. Something is forcing your better judgement to be leaving your natural enemies alive.

-"nothing." - the tingle goes away as soon as it had come, leaving an unusual feeling of relief. - "Thought i'd sensed something. Let's leave"

'Perhaps it's for the best'. - you think as the shuttle's door closes. After all, you did owe him one for saving your life - whatever his reason was for doing so.

That was what you told yourself as you boarded the ship, at least. Now, the next time you saw him, there would be nothing to stop you from finishing him and his friends for good.

Hope you like it? I gave him a 'hands on hips' moment in honour of your videos for a more personalized touch hahahaha

#ezra bridger fic #ezra bridger #ezra bridger imagine #ezra bridger x reader #ezra bridger x you #ezra bridger x y/n #inquisitor!reader

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margoslxix · 4 years ago

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Incoming mini-essay/rant on Little Shop of Horrors because I can't stop thinking about the movie and the musical and the different endings and all of that. I'm on mobile, or I'd put it under a cut.

Anyway, I keep thinking about how the ending of the musical was also originally the ending of the movie, and the fact that test audiences hated it, they were upset and felt cheated by it. And most people either basically chalk it up to "people who watch movies are too unsophisticated to appreciate unhappy endings" which... ugh, no; OR the more widely-accepted theory, "this isn't a play, so there's no curtain call, no assurance the actors are alright, they've simply been taken away and audiences feel that's unfair" which... what? Are we assuming that these people do not understand the concept of acting and can't handle character death?

No, I don't think that's the case at all.

For years, I struggled with the movie's ending. I thought it was silly, too predictable, a neat little Hollywood bow on a Faustian tale. But then, the last time I watched the movie, I completely changed my mind. I actually think I understand exactly what those test audiences saw that they didn't like.

Okay, bear with me.

I think that most of the test audience hadn't seen the musical. That's... probably obvious. What they had seen, though, was the whole beginning and middle of the movie which, being a movie, made some minor changes that changed everything.

Here's what I mean:

In the musical, Audrey II can barely move. The puppet is usually cool, but generally, you get full jaw motion and maybe a couple floppy tentacles. In the movie, however, they're this gorgeous Henson Workshop puppet, with an absolutely ridiculous amount of articulation that just wouldn't be feasible on stage. This leads to three huge changes:

1. There is no need for Seymour to trick Mushnik into climbing inside the plant. In the musical, we see Seymour calculate the most effective way to get rid of Mushnik, calmly telling him that the money is hidden deep inside the plant, easily cleaning up the loose end of Mushnik's suspicions. It's cold, it's premeditated, it's the first actual kill Seymour makes (we'll get to Orin later). In the movie, however, Rick Moranis is panicking as Mushnik accuses him, unable to get a word in edgewise as the accusations come between lines of the Suppertime song. They head up the stairs, and Audrey II easily snaps Mushnik up. Rick Moranis looks on, horrified, not necessarily consciously cornering him against the plant. It takes the agency, the premeditation, the decision to kill out of Seymour's hands.

2. In the musical, Audrey simply comes to the shop because she couldn't sleep. She senses that something's wrong with Seymour, that he's been acting erratically, and she comes to check on him. Audrey II takes advantage of this and tricks her into falling into their mouth, ultimately leading to her death. In the movie, however, this bit of contrivance isn't necessary, and we don't see this thought process for Audrey. Audrey II directly manipulates the situation, calling Audrey on the phone to goad her into coming to the shop where they can easily grab and eat her. If the ending had stayed the same, this would have ended much the same way as in the musical, but with more manipulation by Audrey II and less concern for Seymour on Audrey's part.

3. Even with the originally-filmed Bad End, "Mean Green Mother" was an entirely new song and sequence added to the movie. It's a great showcase for both the beautiful Audrey II puppet and the singing talents of the legendary Levi Stubbs, who honestly would have been wasted without a big solo number. This is a thrilling, fully-choreographed fight scene that wouldn't have worked at all on stage, but it pits Seymour against Audrey II, and we watch Seymour's sad, hopeless attempts to destroy the creature he's created. We see him struggle and fight, not quite at the bottom of a downward spiral, but finally reckoning with the creature who's been manipulating him all this time.

Even aside from Audrey II's increased physical power and aggression, there are changes to the story. Like most movie musicals, several songs have been truncated or cut completely for time, and some of these are absolutely crucial to Seymour's fall as a tragic hero

First, there's "Now (It's Just the Gas)." In the musical, this represents Seymour being unable to kill Orin, but realizing that he doesn't have to, as he is about to asphyxiate. The whole musical number features an increasingly desperate Orin begging for his life, and Seymour responding with a sort of patter song about moral dilemmas. Orin is unaware that Seymour is trying to kill him, and does not stop begging for help.

It's the first time we really get to see Seymour calculate, see his lack of empathy (not that Orin necessarily deserved it, but still). It's the beginning of the end.

In the movie, the song is replaced with a scene in which Seymour confronts Orin more directly. Rick Moranis is clearly terrified the entire time, hand and gun shaking. Orin gets the chance to ask why he's doing this, and Seymour gets the chance to tell Orin exactly what he's done wrong, reminding the audience as well that this man is a villain, and that his death is justice. He asphxiates quickly and quietly, and Seymour barely has any time to think or process what's happening.

The other most important changed song is "The Meek Shall Inherit." It's long in the musical, and Seymour gets a soliloquy about his situation. At first, he resolves to kill Audrey II, only to talk himself out of it. He clearly states that what he's doing is wrong, he knows it's wrong, but he sees himself as so worthless that Audrey will no longer love him if he destroys the one thing bringing him wealth and fame. He then immediately, very clearly, asks "where do I sign," metaphorically sealing his Faustian bargain.

Movie Seymour does no such thing. The song has been shortened to a single chorus, sung at a frenzied pace compared to the musical's version, set to a rapid montauge of a distressed, confused, lost-looking Rick Moranis being herded around to various events and crowded by reporters. He barely looks like he gets any say whatsoever in this, his fame is a tide that he's utterly swept up in.

All of these changes utterly change the themes of the story. Seymour is no longer a desperate man who makes a deal with a being that is wholly dependent on him, consciously and coldly killing to sustain it, in the hopes of winning the heart of the girl of his dreams with money and fame, as he is in the musical. Instead, he's a poor, anxious man, helplessly being passed from an abusive father figure to a manipulative, dangerous, powerful alien who causes mayhem and violence around him.

For this Seymour, a tragic end is a slap in the face. It's a betrayal of the audience, who have been rooting for this poor guy to free himself of these influences in his life from the beginning of the movie. It would have been an empty, soulless ending for the musical, of course, but that's because the entire musical has been establishing the classic downward spiral of a tragic hero, while the movie really wasn't.

The thing is, I don't think any of these individual changes are bad, per se. I think that each one was pretty sensible to manage the runtime and spectacle of a feature film, as well as utilizing the cast to their potential. It just so happens that they all come together to make something that is fundamentally, incompatibly different from the source material.

And that's okay!

#little shop of horrors #long post #musicals #i think the movie is good and the musical is good but its hard to compare them #theyre doing very different things

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radishaur · 5 years ago

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hey! i absolutely love how you write! can i request a zuko imagine with prompts 17 and 78 from the list that makes a reader swoon? thank you!!

Here it is! I hope you enjoy! For those who haven’t read the prompts here they are. #17 is “I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do” and #78 is “Don’t pretend that you don’t feel the same way”.

- Zoe

•••

Play Pretend (Zuko x Reader)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Part: 1/1

Summary: See Request

•••

Being Toph’s sister came with many benefits. One of which being that you always had the best teacher right next to you. She taught you everything she knew, but probably the most helpful thing was how to tell if someone was lying.

It came in handy during moments like these, where your long term enemy is standing in front of you and trying to convince you he’s on your side now.

When Zuko first joined the group, you were incredibly wary of him. You knew what he was capable of and even the knowledge that he wasn’t lying didn’t make you feel any better. People can change their minds very easily. Just because he believed he was your friend today didnt mean he wasn’t capable of changing it again. He had proven that.

So, maybe you were holding a grudge. Was that so bad? You were still sour over his betrayal in Ba Sing Se and the fact that you just maybe found him attractive was unacceptable to you. You couldn’t allow that. He was your enemy. It didn’t matter that your heart fluttered whenever you looked at him.

To compensate, you distanced yourself. Or at least you tried to. It became increasingly difficult when he was so kind and awkward all the time. It made him hard to hate. Not to mention the fact that he was going out of his way to make things up to you.

Admittedly, you found yourself letting your walls down and eventually became best friends. You two did everything together. Every chore and every adventure that Zuko whisked one of the Gaang members on. You found yourself falling more and more for him. It was consuming you.

You were desperately in love with him.

He was someone you never expected to even tolerate, let alone love. And yet, here you were, staring at him from across the fire as your heart melted. You had to say something.

“Hey, can we talk alone for a moment?” you asked him as he was putting out the fire.

“Uh sure,” he answered, looking somewhat sceptical but following you anyways.

You led him off into the woods that surrounded the Ember Island house. You took a step back from him and took a deep breath. You were still unsure if you could actually go through with it.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked, clueless to the mental turmoil I was going through.

“I kind of, well I.......I wanted to confess something,” I admitted, picking at my nails as I spoke.

He stayed silent as he waited for me to continue. I took another deep breath. Goodness this was difficult. Was it too late to back out?

“Ok, well before I say it I just want to say that I don’t want this to change anything between us. I just need to say something so it doesn’t eat me alive,” I explained, looking at him with a weak smile.

“Y/N, you’re kind of scaring me. Is it that bad?” he asked.

“N-Not bad, per say. Just kind of important,” I sighed, feeling the ball of anxiety in my stomach grow.

He didn’t say anything.

“Ok, how do I say this,” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose.

Now was my last chance to back out. I took one last deep breath and decided to just rip the bandage off. Maybe if I just say it all at once it won’t be as hard?

“I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do,” I blurted out, my gaze locked with his the entire time.

Zuko’s mouth flopped open and his eyes widened. I gulped. Usually that wasn’t a good reaction to hearing someone is in love with you.

“I....,” he began, but he trailed off.

“Oh dear. That was too much at once, wasn’t it? Ugh what was I thinking,” I muttered, slapping my forehead before saying to Zuko, “I guess I just want to know where I stand with you.”

“I can’t be friends with you anymore,” he said before turning around and walking hastily back towards the house.

I felt my heart sink. My eyes watered and I allowed myself to cry slightly. I hadn’t expected him to reciprocate, but to not even want to be friends anymore? I sunk to the ground and buried my face in my hands.

After that, Zuko ignored me entirely. It was the exact same way that I treated him when he first arrived. Anytime I tried to start a conversation with him he always had an excuse to leave. He wouldn’t even stand near me anymore. Everybody had noticed the sudden change.

“What’s up with you and Zuko?” Suki asked me during one of our self proclaimed girls nights.

“Oh....it’s-it’s nothing,” I stammered, trying to avoid the topic.

“Liar. You know you can’t get out that easy,” Toph smirked, wiggling her toes against the floor.

“Even I know that’s a lie,” Katara added in.

I finally broke down and told them about what happened that night. Katara was shocked and comforting while Toph was furious.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. Zuko’s an idiot,” she soothed, holding me close as I let my tears dry on my cheeks.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Toph exclaimed angrily.

“Toph, it’s not his fault he doesn’t feel the same. I-“ I began to say, but she cut me off.

“But that’s just it! He’s lying!” she said, her arms crossed over her chest, “I can literally feel his heartbeat speed up whenever you’re close to him and I know for a fact that Sokka and Aang have been teasing him for his crush for weeks now.”

“W-What?” I asked in disbelief.

“If that’s true, then why lie? Why is he acting like this?” Katara questioned, also clearly in disbelief.

“I don’t know,” Toph admitted.

My blood began to boil. What the hell was his problem? I stood up from Katara’s hug and looked out the window. Aang, Sokka, and Zuko were all around the fire talking. My gaze hardened and I began marching downstairs.

“Y/N, where are you going? Don’t do something stupid!” Katara called out to you.

“Kick his ass!” Toph exclaimed at the same time.

You could hear them begin to bicker about their opposing viewpoints, but you didn’t listen. You were purely focused on confronting Zuko. You stormed out into the courtyard.

“Oh, hey Y/N! Want to- oh no,” Sokka said, stopping mid question when he saw the angry expression on my face.

Aang gulped and I saw Zuko tense up in fear.

“Wow, I’m tired. I think I’m gonna go to sleep,” Zuko said, faking a yawn and rushing to walk inside.

I slammed my foot onto the ground and erected a huge wall in his path, forcing him to stop. Sokka and Aang mumbled some excuse and quickly left. I marched towards Zuko who was now facing my direction but refusing to look at me.

“Why are you playing this stupid game?” I asked, crossing my arms across my chest.

“I’m not playing any game,” he huffed, still refusing to look at me.

“Then why are you acting like this! I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by admitting my feelings for you, but you’re acting like a child. How can you just ignore me?” I asked, not even trying to hide the hurt in my voice.

“I’m not acting like a child,” he muttered, a scowl crossing his face as he looked at me.

I felt tears begin to prick my eyes. I uncrossed my arms and let the dirt wall fall back into the ground.

“Do I really mean that little to you?” I asked quietly, my voice breaking as I asked.

His scowl immediately dropped and was replaced with a face of regret. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.

“Apparently, according to Toph and pretty much everyone but you, you like me back. So why are you doing this? What’s the point?” I questioned him, taking a step closer as he once again avoided my gaze.

“I’m not doing anything,” he insisted.

“I thought you were at least happy. We spent so much time together and you always seemed to be happy. Even if it was just as a friend,” I said, reaching out to grab his arm.

He grabbed my wrist before I could and looked at me once more with an angry glare on his face.

“I’m never happy,” he growled.

“I can literally feel that you’re lying,” I reminded him.

He blushed at being caught in his lie and released my hand. He once again refused to look at me. I sighed.

“Please, just answer my questions. Why are you doing this if you like me back? Because it’s pretty clear to me now that you do,” I pleaded, tears freely falling down my face now.

“I.....,” he tried to say, but his voice just stopped.

“Don’t pretend that you don’t feel the same way. Please. Just tell me the truth,” I begged once more.

He looked at me once more and I could see the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. His breath hitched when he looked at me. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes.

“Because I always hurt the people I care about. I’m a disaster waiting to happen,” he admitted.

“Do you really believe that?” I asked.

“Of course I believe it! I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t. I’m head over heels in love with you! I just don’t want to see you get hurt because of me,” he cried out, his fists clenched at his sides angrily.

“Zuko....,” I said, taking another step closer to him.

I could now feel the head that radiated off his skin. It was like a warm blanket that wrapped around him and anyone near it. It was one of the things I loved most about him.

I leaned up to kiss him. It was soft and short, but it was everything I had ever dreamed of. His eyes opened in shock.

“You’re a better man now, Zuko. I know you would never hurt me,” I whispered, our noses brushing against eachother as I let my hand caress his face.

He pulled me closer to him as his hands wrapped around my waist. He closed the distance between us as he pressed his lips onto mine. This time it was harder, more passionate. I melted into him.

I could hear Sokka and Aang cheering triumphantly. Toph was making fake gagging noises and Katara was giggling at the whole thing with Suki. I smiled into Zuko’s lips as I heard them, but I didn’t even care. All I cared about was Zuko.

#zuko #prince zuko fanfic #prince zuko fanfiction #prince zuko fic #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader

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fablesrose · 5 years ago

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Of Kings and Shadows VI

Chapter VI

Description: Y/n, a girl who seems to have found her calling. Being a SHIELD agent is like a dream come true. With a friendship starting to form with the Avengers, she’s the Queen of the world! What could go wrong?

Pairings: Avengers x reader, Loki x reader (eventually)

Notes: On Wattpad –> Here

Series Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'Man, this thing is so itchy'

I wiggled a finger into the brace around my neck, trying to reach the itch in vain.

Every time my mind was drawn to the brace, or my neck, in general, I thought about Loki. Thor talked to me within the week, apologizing, and explaining what had happened.

"It's no excuse, of course..." He said

"But I guess this means that he doesn't have it out for me?" I tried to stay lighthearted, but couldn't help shifting the brace. I winced when I pulled a little hard, straining the weak flesh beneath.

Thor chuckled weakly, "something like that"

"Well I'll make sure not to participate in infiltration missions anytime soon, and if I do, change quickly"

"You shouldn't be on any missions anytime soon. You need to rest and get back to strength, Y/n"

"I appreciate it, and I will, your Highness"

"Good, but please, just Thor"

I simply smiled.

Flash forward a couple of weeks, in the infirmary for a check-up. They needed to see how my neck was healing and to get an idea when I can live without the brace. They keep saying I was lucky. No neurological damage, a moment longer, or harder and he might have broken my voice box, causing voice changes, and the miracle of not having any of the worse side effects. No bloody vomit, no personality changes, I didn't lose consciousness, it doesn't look like I'm going to have seizures. Only a minor concussion, no long-lasting effects.

They keep saying that, I'm lucky, but if I had just taken the jacket off. Left the helmet in the locker room. It wouldn't have happened in the first place. Just because I was stubborn. Some times it still seems strange to be able to take in a deep breath. Time and time again, I have to shake my head, dispel the uncomfortable feelings, flinch at the twinge at my throat.

I didn't feel so lucky.

"Y/n?"

I looked up to where a friendly woman was calling for me to come into the room. I never enjoyed doctor appointments, I mean who does? I feel like I'm complaining, and I always feel uncomfortable telling these things to a stranger. It's almost worse with someone you know... You see them again and they can judge you.

"Y/n, you need to relax. We can't asses the state of your [big word that I didn't catch... something in my neck] if you are straining your neck."

She had taken the brace off, and to be honest, I felt like a newborn. My head was too big for my body, and it was going to tip over, taking me with it. The only thing keeping my head up was the immense amount of effort I was putting into keeping it there.

"I know it seems weak, but it's stronger than you think. You need to relax"

I opened my mouth and stretched my jaw, trying to get the muscles to relax. Not just for her either, they were starting to painfully cramp. "I'm sorry, I'm trying. It's not working"

After about five minutes of me trying and failing to relax, she gave up.

"Okay, we're gonna have to try a different approach. I should be able to look at it without your cooperation"

I blanched, "wait... What"

Another woman came in with some equipment and a form.

"Sign this please"

I looked over it quickly, signing it with the pen she gave me. "What is this"

"Don't worry, it isn't dangerous. The form just says you are allowing us to do this and won't sue if things go awry. Which it won't" she continued to get it in the right position next to me. It looked like an IV bag, but there was obviously something else in it.

"That isn't comforting"

The doctor took a needle and the tourniquet to my arm. Then attached the bag. Only after did she turn to me and say, "well, this will be."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clint walked down the hall, towards the infirmary. Y/n was supposed to have her follow up around this time and thought he would check-in and see what the doc said when she got out since he had a break. He walked into the waiting room to see Y/n looking puzzled at the ground. She waved a hand in front of her as if she was trying to grab something she couldn't quite see.

"Y/n!"

She looked up and smiled before doing a more forceful slap in the air. "Hi Clint"

"Are you okay? Have you gone in already?"

"Yes and yes, I have just seemed to have lost my desk"

Clint looked around just to make sure that he was in the infirmary, questioning himself first before the girl in front of him.

"Um, Y/n, you aren't at your desk "

She glared at him, which caused him to step back, "Well obviously Clint!" She gestured at the space in front of her, "Because I lost it!"

He sighed and walked up to what one could call a receptionist, "Hey, can I take her?" Clint threw a thumb back at the confused girl sitting behind him.

The guy at the desk looked around Clint to Y/n. "Hey, miss L/n?"

She peaked her head up at the sound of her name, "Yes, sir?"

He smiled with a patience that can only be blessed with one who has dealt with way more whacked up patients, "Do you know this guy?"

"Yeah, that's Clint. Barton. Agent Barton"

"Is it okay if you go with him?"

"Yeah, as long as he helps me find my desk"

The receptionist straightened himself in his seat and fixed his gaze on Clint, "So, she seems okay with it, so I'm gonna have to get your ID and fill this release form."

Clint handed him his SHIELD ID to be scanned and started filling out the form. Once he was done he took his ID and walked back over to where Y/n was sitting... Only to find she wasn't sitting there anymore.

Clint snapped around to the guy at the desk. He just shrugged his shoulders with wide eyes, organizing the papers he got handed.

Snapping back around he said the only thing that fit the occasion, "well, shit"

Y/n wandered the hall, her lost desk long forgotten. She was hungry, and could not for the life of her remember where the kitchen was. It didn't help that the hallways kept changing like the labyrinth. She kept a hand reaching for a wall, occasionally steadying her. She followed the walls, hoping to find somewhere that had food. Soon she started to lose time and stopped paying attention to where she was going.

That was until she bumped into someone, to which she stopped and looked up at him. He seemed familiar.

"Oh, Y/n" He paused and looked at the brace around her neck, "I will just apologize for--"

"What's your name again?"

He looked down at her, baffled, "Loki"

Her eyes widened, eyebrows raised, and her mouth formed a perfect little "o" in realization, "That's right, sir. Now if you'll excuse me, Your Highness." She continued down the hall, now actively looking for the kitchen once she was startled awake per se.

Loki just watched after her confused. That was not how he expected their first conversation to go after... Not that he was planning it, but he had some ideas, and that was not one of them. After a moment he continued down the hall but was stopped again by someone else bumping into him. Loki scowled, why couldn't anyone watch where they were going?

Clint had a hand on the wall and was bent over panting as if he had been sprinting for a while. "Loki! Have you seen Y/n?"

He looked at him with ruffled eyebrows and dragged out his answer, "yes?"

Clint instantly straightened, "Where'd she go? I have liability over her at the moment and she disappeared on me."

Loki pointed down the hall to where he had spoken to her, still very much confused.

Clint dashed along the wall leaving Loki without another word. Loki had a debate in his head, and by the end of it he sighed and took off after him. It didn't take long for Loki to catch up and pass Clint with his fresh and very long legs. He eventually skidded to a stop when he found the target, still wandering with no idea where she was going.

"Y/n! There you are."

She turned at the call of her name, right as Clint caught up. "Oh hi, your highness."

Clint gasped and turned to Loki in betrayal, "what'd you do to her"

"I didn't do anything! Why's she like this in the first place?"

"Hi Agent Barton"

Clint turned his attention back to his charge, "Oh, she's just doing that thing she does." He walked up to her and looped an arm around her shoulders, making sure she didn't go anywhere, "Hey, let's get you to the common room, then we can figure out what to do with you."

"Is there food in the common room?"

"If you want there to be"

She perked up even more, "Lead the way to the food"

The three of them walked around the building to the common room, an amazing feat of navigation from Y/n's point of view. They sat her down on the couch, Loki making sure she didn't go anywhere while Clint went into the kitchen. He came back with a bag of potato chips and handed it to Y/n.

"Why is she like this? She isn't even scared of me"

"They did something to her during her check-up... I wouldn't feel too bad, she was sitting in a chair in the infirmary thinking she had lost her desk"

"Hmm"

They just stood there and watched as she ate her chips, trying to figure out what to do with her.

"What's she doing?"

"Hey Tasha, " Clint turned to the newcomer, "she's fresh from her follow up in the infirmary. I'm thinking they doped her up, so she's pretty out of whack."

"I'm on drugs?!"

Clint approached her slowly, "No! What I mean is--"

"No! I can't! Have you seen how many commercials there are??" She sobbed and looked up at Natasha, "I can't be a warning Agent Romanoff!!"

Natasha sat down next to her, "Its Natasha sweetie, you're not going to be a warning"

Y/n didn't listen, "I failed *crunch* the *crunch* D.A.R.E. program... *more crunching from chewing potato chips*"

"Oh dear" Loki, Natasha, and Clint all looked at each other, it's gonna be a long day.

Over the next hour, all the Avengers gathered in the common room to try and calm Y/n down, but nothing seemed to be working.

"I promised my parents..." That caused her to cry even more, and Bruce handed her a glass of water. "Thank you, Dr. Banner." As she drank the water she began to calm down like a miracle. She finished the glass and let out a small sniff, "I'm gonna get fired..."

They all sighed, here we go again.

"If I'm fired I won't ever get to see you guys again..."

They all paused, touched that even in her clouded brain she would think of all of them.

Tony was the first to speak, "Don't worry kid, you can't get rid of us that easily"

Everyone either nodded or voiced their agreeance, except Loki. He simply shrugged, he had no attachment to her.

Y/n reached up to scratch her neck, but just scratched the brace. She put both hands around it and felt the stiff fabric, "why is my neck so big?" She tried to take it off, but Clint stopped her.

"nonononono, leave that on. It's better than it was before. The brace is less thick this time."

"My neck was thicker?!"

"Okay!" Tony stood up from his chair, "I'm gonna ask what the crap is going on with her when it'll wear off"

Loki stood after Tony had left and started towards his room.

"Brother! Where are you going?"

"To my room to be alone"

A chorus sounded behind him, "Nope! You get to deal with her with us!"

"May I ask why?"

"Cuz you're the one who got her in this situation"

He sighed and flopped back down into his chair, summoning a book to read.

"OH! I like books. What is that one"

Loki looked at the childlike wonder in the drugged woman on the couch, "One you wouldn't understand"

There was a moment of silence, "Probably true sir" She looked down at her lap, "I want a blanket"

Loki turned back to his book while someone got up to grab Y/n a blanket.

"Why don't you tell me what the crap is going on with Y/n!?"

The doctor who treated Y/n calmly replied to Tony, "what do you mean?"

"Why did you give her so much morphine?"

"We haven't given her morphine in over two weeks"

"Then what did you give her?"

"We brought in the anesthesiologist and put her under in order for her to relax"

"Why didn't you give her something like laughing gas or something that wears off faster?"

She looked him dead in the eyes, not wavering, "Because Mr. Stark, it was my call, and we don't have that equipment here. The injuries we usually tend to are large enough for them to be put under to deal with. I suggest you don't question the medical doctor in the room"

Tony sighed and took a step back.

The doctor turned and whispered to the nurse next to her, "and the author thought it would be funny"

"What was that about an author?"

She smiled, "I was simply talking to her about my favorite book and author that I follow. It was a continuation of before you arrived."

"So how long... when will the effects wear off?"

"She should be ready to drive home by the end of the day"

He closed his eyes and huffed out a breath, "Thank Thor"

Tony reentered the common room ready to relay the news. It was almost picturesque, the whole team there, supporting a mutual friend. She was wrapped up in a blanket, carefully eating a cheese stick. Everyone seemed tired, just enough energy to make sure she didn't runoff.

Tony smiled and took the last available spot next to Steve. "She should be ready to go by the end of the day."

"That's good news. It seems like the effects are starting to wear off already."

Everyone relaxed, a quiet afternoon ahead of them. Surrounded by the people they worked with and cared about, it didn't turn out to be a rotten day. Everyone was ready for a nap though, dealing with Y/n's behaviors. So they started to doze.

Quiet

Peaceful

Comforting

"Wait! Where's my desk!?"

Tags: @nightrose64

#loki odinson #loki x reader #loki fanfic #avengersfanfiction #avengers x reader #avengers x you #tony stark #natasharomanoff #bruce banner #clint barton #thor #Steve Rogers #marvel #Of Kings and Shadows

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harryscumcloth · 6 years ago

Text

Forever, Always

This is the second and final part of Mister and Missus Maybe. Special thank you’s to @loveandyourstrulyh and @sleepyeyedstyles. I say this every time but I really appreciate the help and feedback.

Warnings: depression, anxiety, talks of death and miscarriage.

“I’ve phoned a few people that I know for more information about her.” He watches you push your food around on your plate. “You should go. I think it will be good for you baby.”

You sit slouched in the chair, with your knees pulled to your chest with your elbows propped on it, the other leg dangling, and the other hand playing with your food.

“I don’t want to.” You mutter.

“What’s that?” His voice becomes stern and his posture changes to stiff.

“I said I don’t want to.” Your tone becomes harsh, pissing him off. He’s been fed up with this for a while. Your constant moping has ultimately become enough.

You’re startled when he slams both of his hands down on the dining table, knocking both glasses of wine on to the floor. “I’m not giving you a choice, (y/n)!”

The look upon your face makes him immediately regret his impulsive action.

“Love, I’m sorry.”

He apologizes but you aren’t sure for what. Forcing you to go to a therapist? Slamming his hands on the table? Staining the semi-new rug?

“I shouldn’t have acted that way.” He tugs at his hair in frustration. “I just want you to feel better and I don’t know what more I can do to help.”

“I’ve told you a million times before, Harry.” “Nothing. Is. Going. To. Help.” You pause after each word for emphasis.

He is terribly worried for you. You haven’t been eating. You sleep for over half of the day. You’re not practicing good hygiene. You aren’t the same person that he fell in love with. He senses that you are truly broken.

Yes, he said in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, but he never imagined it would come to this.

Things had finally started to get better for you two. You were the happiest you had been in a long time. The extravagant honeymoon, the constant love and attention from your husband, a new home, the whole lot. You even convinced Harry that you were ready for a baby. Scratch that. You did not have to convince him, at all. He was already thinking about it but wasn’t sure if you were ready, so he didn’t mention it.

Though, nothing good lasts forever.

****

The appointment was scheduled to be held in the place of your own home for more comfort. You dressed yourself in a large jumper, a pair of black tights, and thick fuzzy socks. You even managed to brush the knots and tangles from your hair. The jumper was worn to hide the drastic decrease in your weight. Although Harry knows about it, no one else does. You have been in hiding for 2 months now, and this is your first encounter with someone other than your husband. The air grew warmer as the anticipation continued to build. The palms of your hands were drenched in moisture as well as the rest of your body. It was a bad decision on your behalf to dress as if the session was going to take place outside in negative degree weather. It’s impossible for you to find a comfortable sitting position because your nerves are being electrified.

“Aren’t you going to go upstairs or something?” You side eye him from across the room.

“I’m going to show her in if that’s alright.” His tone matches yours in rudeness. He takes another look through the door window before stepping back to open it. “Y’know, don’t know why you hate me. I’ve done nothing.” It was the last thing he could say before she arrived.

You mumbled “I don’t hate you” under your breath.

You pulled your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them to hold in place. “Thank you very much for making a house call for us. We are grateful.” He says as he guides her to the sitting area.

She carries a large bag, which you assume contains documents and your soon-to-be personal file. You watch intently as she strides behind your husband, a mischievous look painted on her face.

Harry plops down on the sofa, right beside you. You give him the what are you doing look. All he does is smile and tuck your hair behind your ear. “I love you baby.” He mouths.

Your attention returns to her as she approaches you with confidence. “My name is Kim. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Finally?

“Y/N.” You straighten your posture to drop your feet on the ground, challenging her with a facade of possessiveness.

He clears his throat aggressively, signaling to calm down. He knows you are the jealous type. Any woman that he has a history with, you tend to have a personal vendetta against. It’s not that you feel threatened per se, but you’re aware of how marvelous Harry’s love is and how clueless he can be about women.

Kim takes a seat in the lounge chair across from the sofa. “I have a few questions for the two of you before we formally begin the session. These questions will assist me in having a greater understanding of your marriage.” She opens the top folder of her stack and begins flipping through papers before finding the necessary set.

“Marriage?” You look to him for answers but he is silent. “It’s only supposed to be me!” Your eyes fill to the brim with tears from betrayal. “Harry, why are you blindsiding me?” You attempt to wipe them away. He lowers his head as he can sense the change of atmosphere surrounding the two of you. He’s highly ashamed, but he was uncertain of how else to address the situation.

“May I continue?” She asks.

“Yes.” Harry’s head is still hung as he responds quietly.

Tears are still actively flowing from your eyes as you sit in complete disbelief. The whole ordeal isn’t what is shocking. What is shocking is that he believed that he had to fool you into attending marriage counseling. The marriage hasn’t been the same in months and you both were well aware. You are humiliated to be quite frank.

Her hand readily holds the pen and notepad before asking the first question. “How long have you have you both been together?”

You remain silent while Harry answers. “Off and on. Ehm, 8 years maybe?” He looks to you for approval.

“9.” You interject. “It’s been 9 years.”

She shows a concerned expression before writing in the notepad.

“And how long have you been married?”

“Almost 6 months.” You state.

“Harry, are you happy in this marriage?”

You waited with anticipation. He couldn’t answer right away and that was a bad sign. You love him so much but you can’t control the emotions you feel and you know that you are ultimately pushing him further and further away each day. If you lost him… there would be no hope for you.

“Not at the moment.” He focuses on you with a regretful expression to his face. “Quite miserable if I am honest.”

You never imagined Harry admitting that to anyone, but yet, he just did. Your perspective has changed from him loving you, to him pitying you.

“Y/N, Are you?” She asks while she finishes writing his response down.

Your gaze is locked on the floor because you are too guilt-ridden to look forward. “It doesn’t really matter how I feel now, does it?”

“It does matter Y/N, but you never open up to me! You have shut me out for months now!” Harry’s voice becomes angry, causing you to be more unsettled, if possible.

You try to ignore him by looking at the large backyard through the glass wall. You begin to reminisce about the renovations you and Harry had planned to make. A large white privacy fence, a custom built play area, even an expanded patio for when you would host dinner parties.

Kim quickly comes to the conclusion that a typical session isn’t going to help your marriage, due to your inability to verbally share your feelings. She suggests a different approach. “Perhaps we could try an alternative. Do either of you enjoy writing? You could write letters to each other and exchange them at the next session.”

Your attention is still directed outside while you nod. “Yeah, we can do that.” He speaks for you also.

“Okay, fantastic. We will continue this in the morning at the same time.” She begins to gather her belongings. “To make it easier, I suggest you write in separate rooms. The presence of the other may alter your true feelings.” Harry shows her to the door, thanking her again, and softly closing it. His forehead hits the door with a thud.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks, with his head still pressed to the door.

“I’m sure.” You reply.

You went to separate rooms and stayed put for hours. You rewrote the letter 10 times, and reread it 50. You wanted to make sure you didn’t leave anything out and that you hit every point. It’s a full piece of notebook paper, front and back. Happy with the final piece, you tuck it away in the desk and walk back to the bedroom. You assumed Harry was already asleep when you climbed in, so you were careful not to disturb him.

Neither of you slept that night. Curiosity held both minds captive.

***

Kim arrived right on time, just as she did yesterday. “We can begin when you are ready.” She says. “Would you like to face each other, or read in separate rooms?”

You look at Harry for him to decide. “We can face each other.”

When Harry hands you his paper, you notice that it is a little less than half of what you had written for him. You feel disappointed, but eager to read it. His eyes widen at the shock of how much you had written him. He wasn’t expecting you to say much, because you never do.

Dear y/n,

I want to start this by telling you how much I love you. I love you more than anything. Times have been tough lately and I’ve done my best to guide you, but it has not been an easy ride. I know what your pain is about. You have endured more tragedy than anyone I have known. They would have been so proud of how strong you were and how you pushed through. I wish you had used your safety belt… maybe it would have ended differently. I know the guilt consumes you, but it’s not entirely your fault. The timing wasn’t right for our baby. We were just kids the first go around. Silly kids might I add. I felt the pain because it was my child too. I still remember the look on your face the day that I proposed. You told me that you didn’t like big commitments, because you always end up alone. I promised you I would not leave you. I thought things were getting better for us, but it happened a second time. The doctors told you that it could be fatal for you if you were to become pregnant again. I believe that was the exact moment you lost yourself for good. I am tired of waking up feeling like I am a stranger in my own home. I need your love and attention. If things had turned out differently, I know we could be together indefinitely. I still mean every word I wrote in my vows. But I am breaking my promise to never leave you, because I have to think about myself for once. I hope you accept the help I am offering you, so you can get better. I’ll love you forever, no matter what.

Always, h.

You felt as your heart shattered into a million tiny pieces. His letter meant there was no going back. You successfully pushed him away, unintentionally. If you weren’t completely broken already, you were now. Harry wasn’t even the one to blame.

You folded the letter back to its original shape before noticing he has yet to start reading. He sees the tears in your eyes and immediately regrets writing the letter. He contemplates reading yours, but decides he should.

Harry,

I am still angry about you lying about this marriage counsel. I felt embarrassed and betrayed. One good thing came from it though. I realized that I have not been fair to you. I wasn’t worried about how you felt or what you needed from me. I can never say how sorry I am for not being a constant companion for you. I am broken, I know that. I tell myself that I do not know why, but deep down I do know. I try to erase it from my memory, but I cannot do so. I am still severely traumatized from the accident, physically and emotionally. My father, my brother, and our baby girl or baby boy would still be here if I had not been selfish wanting to go home in the dead of night. I vividly remember thinking about you while I was laying in the ditch. I didn’t know that they weren’t okay yet, so I only thought about never seeing you again. I was sure I was going to die there. I believe my soul did.

I don’t remember anything else except waking up and seeing you and my mum. That was the first time I ever saw you cry. I was still on pain meds from the surgery, but I felt that pain. I have lived with this guilt for years. Not sure how you can look at me when I can’t even look at myself. I never told you that the doctor said the extensive injuries to my abdomen and uterus were very severe and I probably wouldn’t be able to have children. I didn’t want to tell you because I wanted to think differently. I wanted to have your children more than anything.

I wanted to tell you so badly the night before our wedding, but I was scared. I had let things go too far in hopes of maybe the doctors were wrong. But it was proven true. We almost made it to three months, just shy a week. I let you believe that I did not know how bad the injuries had been when the doctors told you. I was ashamed and scared that you would break your promise and leave me for the information I withheld. I lost all hope in that moment. I think you did as well. I hate myself for it because you deserve better. You deserve someone that you can take out in public, go to red carpets with, post photos on Instagram with, even go on your morning run with. I want to be that person for you but I don’t know how to be. You are still the best person I know. I want to be better for you. I’ll do whatever it takes because I can't bare to lose you. You are for me.

Y/N

His lips are quivering as he fights to hold back his emotions. His remorseful eyes meet your tear filled ones instantly.

“You’re leaving me?”

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles husband #one direction fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles concept

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ghostofviperwrites · 5 years ago

Text

Seeking Comfort

Requested by @littlebluespoon

Only I could run on for over two thousand words about a damn blanket

Pairing: Taka Michinoku/FC

Category: Angstish/Smut

Word Count: 2345

Warnings: Choking, smut

42. “Are you trying to get me to punish you?”

In the overall scheme of things you felt your first few weeks working as the liaison for Suzuki Gun had gone relatively well. While you couldn’t say any of the guys liked you per se, none of them seemed to actively hate you. From your understanding of things, that was probably the best you could hope for with this unruly group. Day by day you were learning to meet their quirky demands; like making sure there were always at least three bottles of Suntory whisky around for Kanemaru’s use, or protecting Despy’s leash with your life (you still shuddered as you remembered his threat of what would happen to you should anything happen to that leash), down to ensuring Taka always had a blanket and pillow in easy reach.

You kept a wide berth from Minoru Suzuki and he seemed to prefer it that way, barely offering more than a word or two sharply issued in your direction. KES were a bit of a handful, but so long as you kept them well stocked in beer they wouldn’t hassle you too much. Iizuka was another one who stayed out of your way for the most part. Your biggest worry with him was when the boys went out and got drunk he had a tendency to run naked through the streets. You had quickly learned the secret to corralling him and your nights out always included an oversized robe to throw over the big man when he got wild. Taka was another one who liked to strip, but he at least usually kept his boxers on.

You had learned after the first couple of nights out to bring a book and keep your nose firmly in the pages otherwise you were going to get sick watching what they got up to. One night of Kanemaru and Desperado’s little games with their conquests had shaken you. So you sat in your little corner and pretended not to notice anything unsavory that may be occurring, only stepping in when it seemed one of your charges was on the verge of arrest. You had wondered why New Japan had given you a banker’s envelope full of yen for “incidentals.” Not anymore.

Today unfortunately had been a very bad day. Technically the bad day had started last night at the Karaoke bar. It seemed as if every one of the members of Suzuki Gun were in a riled up mood and you had chased them from end to end in that bar trying to avoid having the police called, and shelling out money left and right to keep the peace. At the end of the night you were too tired to even shower, collapsing in bed covered in the sticky Suntory Kanemaru had found it hilarious to pour over your head while you were trying to wrap the nude Taka in a blanket. Taka had been fighting you and you had snapped at him which left you with a pouty and sullen man to deal with.

So this morning half of the stable wasn’t speaking to you and the other half were pissed off that you had ruined their fun. You couldn’t get any of them to cooperate and it was pulling teeth to get them all where they needed to be. But it was done. They were gone and you were alone. Checking your watch you saw you had a few hours alone. Collapsing onto the couch along the wall you closed your eyes with every intention of taking a quick nap to recharge your batteries.

Only sleep didn’t come as you had hoped. It was too cold in the locker room. Your dreams of a nap floating away you sat up with a frown and heaved a sigh for what could have been. Then you remembered that someone always had a blanket in their gear. Biting your lip nervously you rose and walked towards Taka’s bag. There sitting right on top, ready and waiting for him was his very favorite blanket. Taka claimed it was the end all be all of blankets. The softest, warmest, best blanket ever made. How many times had he lamented the fact he only had the one? You remembered him ranting one day about the manufacturer going out of business and how important it was to keep this blanket in top shape.

A shiver coursed through you, making up your mind and you snatched the blanket and wrapped it around your body on the way back to the couch. Taka was right. It was heaven. You laid down on the couch and fell into a peaceful slumber warm and safe in your little cocoon.

You didn’t want to get up when you’re alarm went off, snuggling deeper into the blanket. You swore that was the best sleep you ever had. The blanket was magic. You didn’t want to let it go. Before you thought about your actions you bundled up the blanket and shoved it in your purse, hurrying out of the locker room and straight to your car. Your heart pounded as you hid Taka’s blanket, rationalizing he had a hundred blankets, he would survive.

Once back inside the arena you wandered the hallways and made your way to the cafeteria for a snack trying to avoid the locker room when your phone began blowing up with messages. You hurried back to the locker room and were greeted by utter chaos. Gear littered every inch of the floor, clothes haphazardly tossed around, couch cushions thrown all over.

“What is going on?” You asked.

“Taka’s blanket is missing.” Minoru said as he dug through duffle bags. You ducked your head, hoping your guilt wasn’t written on your face and you began gathering up the tossed belongings and folding them neatly as the rest of the stable searched for Taka’s blanket. You almost confessed as you caught site of Taka sitting morosely against the wall, his lip trembling. You felt horrible, but couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. You knew how attached Taka was to his blankets. They were more than just blankets to him. They were security and comfort. When his anxiety was through the roof, winding himself up securely in a blanket was one of the only ways to calm him. After matches when his adrenaline was high stretching out with a blanket in his arms and belly rubs would soothe him. You felt like an absolute monster, yet you kept your mouth shut.

“Lance, you didn’t take it? You swear?” Taichi asked Lance Archer, who, on more than one occasion had stolen Taka’s blankets. But he always gave them right back as soon as Taka started flipping out.

“I didn’t. I swear guys. You know I always confess.” Lance held his arms up in innocence as he found himself the focus of eight glares. “It wasn’t me.”

“Y/N, you didn’t see anyone around our locker room did you?” Minoru asked sharply making your head jerk up. You quickly issued denials, telling him you were in the cafeteria and didn’t see anyone near their territory.

“Who would steal from Taka?” Desperado asked. “The rest of us, sure. But everyone likes Taka. And they know his issues. I can’t imagine anyone doing this to him.”

“Well somebody did and they’re going to regret it.” Minoru said. “We know it was here. We all saw him with it this morning.” Minoru moved to crouch in front of Taka who was staring blankly ahead, bottom lip between his teeth as he worried it. “We’re going to find it son, and when we do the responsible person is going to pay dearly.”

One by one the Guns filtered out of the locker room to head to their hotel, Taichi taking Taka with him, promising to keep a close eye on him. Finally you were left alone, cleaning up the rest of their gear and loading it on the trolley to take to your car. Once back at the hotel you would deliver it to their respective owners and then hopefully have a quiet night in. Nobody had made mentions of any plans, and you hoped it stayed that way.

Having delivered all the luggage you trudged into your own room pulling the purloined blanket from where you had tucked it into your purse and tossing it on the bed before heading straight for a nice hot bath.

Meanwhile in Minoru’s hotel room the leader of the Guns was staring at Kanemaru digesting what the man had just told him.

“You’re positive?” Minoru asked, his fist clenching as rage boiled through him at this betrayal within his own locker room.

“I saw it boss. It was poking out of her purse when she dropped off my bag.” Kanemaru said earnestly. “She took Taka’s blanket.”

“Bring Taka to me please.” Minoru said, watching the door shut behind Kanemaru as the man hurried to collect his friend. As much as he would like to personally deliver the message that you do not double cross Suzuki Gun, this was not his battle. If Taka wished him to, Minoru would gladly handle the matter, but it was Taka’s call and Minoru was quite sure he would want to deal with it personally. As he waited, Minoru made a call to the front desk and within moments had a room key personally delivered to him.

“We’ve found it. And the culprit.” Minoru said without preamble as Taka entered his room. Taka’s head darted up, a coldness entering his eyes as he stared at Minoru. “Am I correct to presume you wish to personally handle this matter?”

“You’re correct. Who is it and where?” Taka said, fire burning through him as he realized he was close to getting back what belonged to him.

“Kanemaru spotted it in the possession of our dear assistant.” Minoru told him. “She’s in room 456. I’ve managed to procure you a key.” He held the card out to Taka who took it with a nod of thanks and left the room, one destination in mind.

When you emerged from your soak and found Taka stretched across your bed, blanket twisted in his hands with a glare on his face that frightened you unlike anything you had seen before, it was such a contrast to his usual countenance.

“I can explain.” You said, clutching your robe tightly around your body as he stared you with piercing eyes.

“Are you trying to get me to punish you?” Taka snapped sitting up and wrenching his blanket in his hands.

“What? No!” You said.

“Then why would you steal from me?” Taka asked rising from the bed and moving towards you with cruel intent. “Did you want to hurt me?” He continued stalking towards you until your back hit the wall behind you halting your retreat.

“No, I didn’t want to hurt you.” You told him honestly. “I don’t know what happened, I took a nap with it…”

“You took a nap with my blanket?” Taka growled and you whimpered in the face of his anger. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“I’m sorry!” You cried. “It was cold and I was so tired from last night and I didn’t think it would hurt anything and then it was the best sleep I’ve ever had and it’s the best blanket ever and I didn’t stop to think and I took it.”

“I know it’s the best blanket ever. That’s why it’s so special to me. You knew how much it meant to me, and yet you took it anyways.” Taka said. He huffed out an angry breath and stepped away from you walking over to the end of the bed. “Take off your robe and get on all fours.” He said quietly.

It took you a moment to process his words, watching with disbelief as Taka stripped off his clothing, leaving him naked to your gaze. You flushed as you looked at his body, cock hardening under your gaze before you shook your head to clear it.

“Taka,” You began only to get interrupted.

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear a fucking word. Get on the bed like I told you.” Taka said. The command in his voice spurred you into action and you found yourself dropping your robe and climbing onto the bed, kneeling in front of Taka.

Anticipation coursed through you as the bed dipped under Taka’s weight. His arm wrapped around your waist and pulled your ass to his groin, his hand guiding his cock along your slit and making you whimper and push against him.

“I hope you don’t think you’re going to enjoy this?” Taka said with a short laugh. “This is not about pleasure.” You yelped as he rammed his dick inside you with no preparation, immediately burying himself to the hilt and pounding away as you struggled to accommodate him.

Taka’s arm left your waist reaching for the twisted blanket on the bed next to you. He looped it around your neck and pulled both ends choking you and your hands flew to the blanket, tugging uselessly at it in an effort to get it off. Taka continued thrusting into you pulling back on his blanket and giving it another twist with every movement. He grinned as he watched you struggle below him, your face turning red as it was deprived of much needed air.

With a loud groan he came, hands releasing the blanket as you fell face first into the blankets. Pulling out of your cunt Taka quickly dressed and grabbed his blanket before moving to the head of the bed. Grabbing your hair he pulled your face up. You stared at him blankly, sucking in air as he sneered at you.

“By now they all know what you did,” Taka said with a smirk. “You might want to think about running.”

Just then a knock sounded on your door and Taka grinned.

“Or you might just be too late.”

#taka michinoku imagine #taka michinoku fanfic #njpw fanfic #wrestling fanfic #mywriting #ghostofviperwrites

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angstchim · 6 years ago

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His Confessions | kth

Drabble

Cheating Boyfriend Taehyung x Reader

➻ Inspired By Confessions Part II - Usher (Shh ik)

➻ Rated: M

➻ Words: 1.6k

➻ !!: Cheating, Betrayal, Mentions of Abortion, Angst, Hate, Selfish Taehyung

Summary: Taehyung never really knew why he did it. One slip up became routine for him. He loved you dearly, he truly did. However, when he gets news, the kind of news he never wanted to hear and now he has to break it to you he loses himself. He wants a second chance and he wants to see if you can accept him again, him and his plus one.

Warm embraces and caresses. Soft kisses and sweet everything's whispered in your ear. His nose buried in the crook of your next. The night calm, your blanket enveloping the two of you in a heated mix. Your sleeping form carefully guarded by your protector, your one and only, your lover.

Nothing stirred but him, or per se his hands. Your soft snores filling the room as well the tapping of his thumbs against the screen of his phone, his nerves a little high as we were painfully aware of your presence.

Hyerin: Tae I'm not playing anymore we need to tell her... To Hyerin: We don't! We both will lose her are you ready for that?! Hyerin: We asked for it the first time we fucked and every time after that we fucked Tae, I'm her best friend and you're her boyfriend...besides I need to come over To Hyerin: I told you when I'm with her I can't be with you Hyerin: You'll want to To Hyerin: I can't be there to fuck right now okay Hyerin: Tae god dammit I'm pregnant To Hyerin: Stop lying Hyerin: Tae as much as you'd like to think I fuck other guys I don't, it's yours.

His stomach churning, his heart sinking his arms around you loosed, his hands trembling as he carefully slid away from you while you slept. He was so used to sneaking away while you slept, it gave him such a rush. But today that rush wasn't the same, this drive was fear and guilt, instead of pleasure and adrenaline.

With rushed steps he dragged himself to the car, teeth biting his lip raw, fingers shaky he slipped the key into the ignition. He cursed himself. He loved you but he lusted after her. Both your boyfriend and best friend, partners in crime as they both would dare to sit at your table, in your home, however when you turned away their hands would twine. How it started was a blur. Their minds a haze and things escalated and soon one accident became routine.

He had three things on his mind. The first on his mind was you. The second thing was if it was really his and if it was true. The third thing was him wishing he never did it. Wishing they never did it. His tires giving a screech as they came to a halt.

He parked outside of the house he was so used to sneaking into at odd hours of the night, jiggling her door handle it opened as it always did. "H-Hyerin?"

She didn't spare him a gaze, tossing over to his two positive tests. "I'm pregnant"

He gave a harsh swallow looking at the tests on the floor not daring to pick them up. Not daring to face reality. "I-Is it mine ?"

She cocked her head. "Who else?"

"You didn't sleep with another guy did you?" He hoped with all his might that she had, his fingers crossed his lips raw.

Hyerin sighed, "Tae it's yours okay I never slept with anyone else once we started going behind her back."

He flinched. "Don't call it that!"

She hissed, "That's What it is Tae! You cheated and I'm a liar and now I'm pregnant!"

"It's not! This is isn't happening! Get rid of it !! I can't lose her!" He yelled, kicking the tests against the wall, vainly he kicked and stomped on them as if breaking the test would erase his mistake.

Hyerin gaze hardening, "You lost her the moment you stuffed your cock in me and now your paying for it! I'm keeping it, the baby is mine! Be a deadbeat but don't think she won't find out I'm telling her if you won't. It's least I can do after fucking her boyfriend and getting pregnant with his child..." she yelled tears staining her cheeks.

"No get rid of it, I can't love it, I won't love it..." he pleaded.

"You're so fucking gone. You think that innocent child needs to bear the lashings of your own fucking mistake, of our fucking mistakes?!" She raised her hand, giving it the most she could she strikes his left cheek.

His gaze on the floor, "I-I don't love you, I can't loose her. I just can't." Fists balled he turned. Tail between his legs, he felt cornered. His resolve diminishing he drove back to your place, your sleeping form greeting him once again as he crawled into your bed.

His arms gently shaking you, "B-Babe get up we need to talk."

Trying to swat his hands off so you could borrow into the blankets, he lifted you, lightly shaking you awake. "Seriously, we need to talk." The tension in the room getting thicker with each passing second.

"Yes?" The sleep starting to wither from your form. Eyes focused on his face, his eyes heavy and dark, his lip trembling body shaking.

"I-I love you." He looked you in the eyes, his voice broken.

"I love you too Tae.." you looked at him, confused and slightly on edge.

"And because I love you I need to come clean."

Your hands gripping the sheets.

"Hyerin and I have been sleeping together for months now... she's pregnant and she's keeping it." He spat it out, a taste of vile coating his mouth, throat closing in on him.

Your hands gripping the sheets, eyes on the ground. "I know ... Tae I love you but I'm not an idiot. I knew you were up to something. At first, I thought it was odd you left when I slept, you had strange contacts in your phone. I knew you were running off somewhere. Then I found out it was Hyerin. I noticed and watched it... I thought maybe if I ignored it I could live in my own fantasy that maybe it was just a bad dream and you weren't a cheater. That maybe, my best friend and boyfriend weren't both betraying me. That maybe, when I slept you'd still be there holding me..." you choked on your words "So she's pregnant."

He trembled, he reached out to you only to feel a knife in his heart when you pulled away from his touch. "I want her to lose it.. I want to be with you, I don't want that baby in her !"

He saw pity in your eyes, "Tae that child is innocent. "

"Then be a mother to it!" He cried out, his arms around you. "I don't want to lose you! I don't want to leave you! Be a stepmother to it, please be its stepmother and I'll be a father to it! I promise!"

Your head was thrown back, not able to look at him. Eyes on the ceiling. "That's so selfish you know, you cheat on me with my best friend and now you ask me to raise her child?"

He flinched, "I didn't mean it like that, I just don't want to lose you."

"Tae that's how it is, that's the reality... and if you didn't want to lose me. You shouldn't have done it. The two of you shouldn't have..."

"It's ended, all of it! It's over, fucking finished please give me a second chance! Please fucking give me a second chance!"

"Tae.. I-I"

"Please..just one more chance." He pleaded

Your eyes falling to the bed. Your entire being calling yourself a fool. But you gave a nod. Throwing everything in this one basket, you agreed. Hoping with your whole heart that his words had worth.

(+3)

Eyes facing the window looking at your backyard, hands busy holding a sponge and a plate, the hot water slightly burning as you washed the dull plate. In the backyard were your husband and your daughter. Well, his daughter. Do Ae. She was the perfect mix of Hyerin and Taehyung. Such a beautiful, bright, and eccentric girl. Possessing her father's charm and her mothers looks. You bit your lip. You knew none of this was her fault. You were still trying to find it in your heart to trust Taeyhung again. You were finding the strength to love this child the best you could.

At times you wondered why you do this to yourself. You could have just left, but something in your heart told you to stay. You felt like a fool at first, over time the feeling faded, however, your trust in Tae slowly rebuilt itself. Taehyung lifting his head, Do Ae on his shoulders, both of their gummy smiles bright as they waved at you, Do Ae bringing her hand to her lips sending kisses. A warmth filling your heart. You hated yourself for questioning your love for her. For only seeing her parents in her.

The two of them entering the house, the hot summer air making the house feel a bit dry. Small footsteps running up to you. "When is it gonna be here Mommy?!!" Do Ae chimed as she clung to your leg looking up at you. Her small hands running over the bump on your tummy.

"Give it a few months sweetheart." You hummed, smiling down at the girl. Taehyung smiling at you, his arms crossed. "Mommy is gonna get really big soon just you wait." he joked.

You shot him a playful glare. "No dinner for you." You eyes straying to the driveway, a car pulling into it. Hyerin's car. Your tongue swabbing your cheek, Taehyung picking Do Ae from your leg, "Time to go see your other Mommy." He walked out to meet her. Your eyes on them, a soft ache in your heart. Hyerin's gaze meeting yours, her eyes soft as she sent you a look you couldn't quite explain. Your former friend, Do Ae's mother, and the woman your husband slept with behind your back. You didn't hate her. You didn't blame her. You wished her happiness and you hoped that look she sent you was a hopeful one. Because lord knows. You aren't happy, but you are trying.

You are trying.

#drabble #kim taehyung #v #bts #bts writing #ts drabble #smut #taehyung drabble #angst #angst tae #usher got me in my feels hope yall like this #angstchim actually angsty

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lokislytherin · 5 years ago

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나 너를 사랑해 // namjin

pairing: kim namjoon x kim seokjin, slight mentions of jikook and yoonseok

summary: a fic in which namjoon has heart cancer and seokjin’s summer job is to spend time with him

word count: 6076

a/n: this was a monster to write jfc i lowkey regret writing it in a notebook before transferring it here also i planned this to have a sad ending at first but i couldn’t bring myself to write it lol i lowkey don’t wanna break my own heart. sorry if it’s bad? i’m not exactly the best fanfic/romance writer, but i’m learning tho (i’m better at crack fics haha) also i didn’t edit this because the tumblr words on computer are so thin and hard to read

kim seokjin was bored.

it wasn’t like he had nothing to do, per se- he had to look after his younger brother taehyung, as well as work in the restaurant his parents had left him after they’d passed away within months of each other- it was that he felt like he’d lost his purpose.

“maybe you should try volunteering at the local hospital,"his friend and flatmate park jimin suggested one day, "who knows, you might even meet someone.” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

seokjin groaned, but agreed. it wasn’t like he had much else to do with his life anyway.

a few days later, seokjin found himself standing at the front desk of the hospital. "hello?“ he peered down at the beady-eyed woman sitting behind the desk. "i volunteered for the volunteer program here, do you know where i should go…?”

the receptionist glanced up at him, uncaring eyes behind thick-rimmed glasses. "name?“

"seokjin,” he said quickly, “kim seokjin.”

the receptionist turned back to her table, rifling through one of the many stacks of paper on her desk. "kim seokjin…“ she scribbled something on a post-it note and slapped it on the space in front of him. "follow the red line on the floor, and stop when you reach the room with this number,” she instructed him curtly, “you’ll be assigned a patient. or you could just ask nurse jung.”

a brief feeling of horror swept over seokjin as the fact that patients were assigned registered in his mind, but he pushed it down, thanking the receptionist instead. jimin hadn’t told him that! or maybe he’d done it on purpose, seokjin thought bitterly to himself.

he wandered down the corridors until-

“oof!”

he barely had the time to react before he was falling backwards, landing on his ass.

“sorry!” yelped a voice. "are you okay?“

seokjin groaned, staggering to his feet. "i’m fine,” he wheezed, “my ass would say otherwise, but otherwise i’m fine. besides, it’s mostly my fault fo not really looking where i was going.”

there was a loud “haha!” from the voice, which as seokjin saw, belonged to a tall young man around his age, maybe a little younger. "maybe you should use your eyes,“ the young man teased as he pushed his glasses up his nose, "they’re there for a reason, you know.”

seokjin put a hand on his chest, mockingly insulted. "shut up,“ he told the other man, "i don’t even know your name!”

the man standing in front of seokjin grinned. "i’m namjoon, kim namjoon. now you know my name!“

seokjin couldn’t help but laugh.

namjoon stared at him for a few seconds before beginning to laugh himself. "you sound like a windshield wiper!” he gasped out between snickers.

seokjin grunted, trying to reign in his blush. "yah, i know, i get that a lot.“

namjoon opened his mouth to say something else, but he was interrupted by a man in a white doctor’s coat running towards him and shouting his name. "namjoon!” the man yelled. "stop running away from your room! do you have a death wish?“

namjoon shrugged playfully. "nah, i was just bored.”

the man rolled his eyes. "you’re becoming a bad influence on jeongguk,“ he said, rubbing his temples, "he may be paralyzed from the waist down and possibly bound to a wheelchair for the rest of his life, but he’s learning to just disappear like you. i have no idea how he does it.”

namjoon laughed again, and for a brief second, seokjin felt like capturing the sound in a jar and keeping it with him forever. "i’ve taught him well, then.“

the man, who was probably namjoon’s nurse, started to lead him away. "come on, we need to get you hooked back up, you need your meds-”

“wait!” seokjin blurted. "i signed up for your volunteer thing, and i have no idea who my assigned patient is! do you happen to know where i can ask or something?“ he looked at the post-it from the receptionist. "the receptionist said go to room 314, or ask ‘nurse jung’, but i have no idea where room 314 is, or who 'nurse jung’ is.”

the nurse grinned. "well, you’re in luck! i’m jung hoseok.“ the man plucked a sheet of paper from his coat. "what’s your name?”

“kim seokjin.”

the man scanned the piece of paper for seokjin’s name! “oh! what a coincidence!” he smiled broadly. "you’re paired with namjoon! lucky me, i have to do less work, since you two are already acquainted.“ he shot namjoon an obnoxious wink. "i’ll head off now. i’m a busy man, i’ve got things to do.” he dashed off, this time yelling for jeongguk.

namjoon snorted to himself. "yoongi- whoops, dr min- he means.“

seokjin frowned. "huh?”

“hobi-hyung- aish, i keep forgetting he’s a nurse now, and not just my next door neighbor- has a crush on one of the doctors here. one of the best heart surgeons in korea, actually. dr min likes him too, but neither of them realize it. i don’t quite know what they see in each other- hoseok-hyung is always so warm and happy, but dr min is so cold and cranky.”

seokjin laughed, effortlessly keeping up with namjoon’s long strides as he led them back to his hospital room. "well then, i guess you could say they’re polar opposites.“

seokjin cackled as his own pun, earning a few judgmental glares from the nurses, doctors, patients and visitors scuttling along the corridors. one doctor gave him a particularly harsh scowl as he swished by in his white surgical coat. "what?” seokjin wheezed out between bouts of windshield wiper laughter. "that was a good pun!“

even namjoon couldn’t help but laugh. "that’s min yoongi for you.” he pushed the door of his room open. "after you, jin-hyung.“ he paused for a second. "may i call you jin-hyung, actually? it just slipped out of my mouth. i mean, it sounds nice, but i wasn’t sure if you’d mind being called jin. after all, i barely know you, we just met-”

seokjin decided to cut off namjoon’s rambling. "jin is completely fine, by the way. nobody’s ever called me that, but i like it.“ he gestured towards the door. "after you. you’re the patient, i’m just in charge of watching your back.”

namjoon shook his head. "no, you first. i’m already holding the door open for you, don’t make my efforts go to waste.“

seokjin wedged his leg between namjoon ad the door, attempting to subtly nudge the other man through the door frame. "no, after you.”

“after you!”

“no, after you!”

there was a loud “ahem!” as a young man in a wheel chair smoothly wheeled himself into the room. "after me, before joon-hyung manages to break the door handle again.“

seokjin cocked his head curiously. "how’d you manage to break a door handle?”

namjoon blushed, flustered. "it’s a long story.“

seokjin heard a familiar high pitched voice screech for jeongguk. he turned around, spotting-

"jiminnie? what are you doing here?”

namjoon turned to seokjin, a look of confusion on his face. "wait, how do you know jimin?“

"he’s my roommate!” jimin piped in, he was dripping with sweat, but seemingly unfazed by the workout he just had from chasing jeongguk around the hospital. "i told you about him, didn’t i?“

realization dawned on namjoon. "you’re that seokjin?”

seokjin, however, had a completely different response. “you talk about me behind my back? this is betrayal, jimin! betrayal!”

jimin deliberately ignored the melodramatic older man, instead focusing on helping jeongguk haul himself from his wheelchair onto his bed. seokjin realized that jeongguk was the 'cute patient’ jimin kept talking about. for a rather small guy and another guy who’d lost function of his loweer body after a car crash, they made a pretty strong couple. seokjin subtly nudged namjoon into the room, before heading in himself.

“and yes, namjoon, i am that seokjin.”

namjoon laughed, plopping himself down on one of the beds. "yeah, jin-hyung, i figured as much.“ he patted the empty space next to him. "come on, sit! i’m not a bed hogger like gukkie.”

true to namjoon’s word, jeongguk lay starfished across the bed, arms crossed under his head, long legs splayed over jimin’s lap. "it’s not my fault, hyung,“ jeongguk grumbled, "you know i can’t move my feet.” namjoon only laughed in response.

in a blink of an eye, hours had passed. jimin jumped up from his position next to jeongguk, shoulders oddly stiff. "seokjin-hyung and i have to go now. our shift is over.“

seokjin glanced at jimin, faintly alarmed. they had shifts? even if they did, he wasn’t sure if he could leave- namjoon was leaning on his shoulder, and seokjin had lost feeling in it completely.

jeongguk frowned, as if he too sensed jimin’s sudden tenseness. "alright. i’ll see you soon, jiminie-hyung.”

jimin smiled, a faint blush on his cheeks. "see you tomorrow, gukkie.“

namjoon turned to seokjin, a hopeful expression on his face. "will i see you tomorrow, seokjinnie-hyung?”

seokjin hummed thoughtfully, eyebrows creasing as he thought about it. should he? he’d had a nice time with namjoon (who was cute too, as a bonus), but would tomorrow be the same? he felt jimin, namjoon and jeongguk’s expectant gazes on him. "yes,“ he decided spontaneously, "why the hell not?”

namjoon broke into a grin so wide it almost split his face in half, deep dimples carving themselves onto his cheeks. "i knew you’d say yes.“

jimin cleared his throat. "seokjin, we have to go, remember?”

feeling bold, seokjin blew namjoon a kiss. "bye, namjoonie.“

namjoon had called him 'seokjinnie’, so 'namjoonie’ was a fitting nickname, was it not?

jimin pushed seokjin out the door, promptly pulling the door shut behind them.

as soon as they were out of earshot, jimin turned to seokjin, a wide grin on his face. "now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

seokjin shrugged, trying to hide his frantic heartbeat. "namjoon’s pretty nice to hang around.“ namjoon was pretty, too.

jimin whooped loudly, and the receptionist glared at him as the two young men passed her. "has he told you about his condition yet?” he asked, lowering his voice.

seokjin shook his head. "no, why?“ seokjin waved goodbye to hoseok, and the nurse saluted him in response.

jimin shrugged, walking a little faster in order to keep up with seokjin. "he’ll tell you in his own time, i guess.”

“do you know his condition?” seokjin asked curiously. jimin probably did- he’d been doing this for far longer than seokjin had, and jimin and jeongguk were so close, namjoon probably trusted jimin too.

the shorter man nodded. "he’s kinda sensitive about it though, and now that you two are friends, i don’t want you to think differently about him because of it.“

seokjin left the conversation alone, making a mental note to ask namjoon about it the next day.

a little over half a day later, seokjin was at the hospital again, casually chatting to jimin as they made their way to namjoon and jeongguk’s room. he wondered if he’d even be there if not for a certain kim namjoon, and apparently, so was jimin.

"so, seokjin-hyung,” the younger began with a sly grin, “are you looking forward to today? you get to spend more time with namjoon-hyung.”

hoseok hurried past, complaining to jimin that jeongguk had ran off- or rather, wheeled off- again. jimin just laughed, telling hoseok it was okay, he was used to it.

seokjin glared at jimin, shoving him away. "watch your mouth,“ he warned, threat as empty as his stomach, "and watch your boy crush.”

jimin spluttered, cheeks growing red. "i do not- jeongguk is not-“

seokjin smirked. "yah, jiminie, karma’s a b*tch, but so am i.”

jimin flipped him the bird before running off in search of jeongguk. "hey! ungrateful brat!“ he shouted at jimin over dr min’s head. "you should learn to respect your hyungs!

there was a laugh from behind, and seokjin jumped a mile high. he whirled around, clutching his chest melodramatically. "aish, joonie! you’re going to give me a heart attack!”

namjoon laughed loudly, covering his mouth afterwards. namjoon blushed, looking a little flustered. "sorry, i have a habit of doing that. before, dr min told me off for laughing too loudly, and i’m still kinda scared of him.“

seokjin awkwardly patted his arm. "it’s okay!” he smiled. "i like your laugh.“

namjoon cleared his throat, a professional looking expression on his face. "yeah, about that…”

“hmm?”

“i need to tell you something.” he lowered his voice. "in private.“

seokjin agreed. he had to ask namjoon why he was in the hospital anyway- from an outsider like seokjin’s perspective, there was absolutely nothing wrong with him.

they made their way to namjoon and jeongguk’s hospital room, namjoon making himself at home on the bed before asking seokjin to join him like the day before. hoseok strolled in, exchanging a few words with namjoon, occasionally glancing at seokjin while attaching wires and tubes to namjoon’s skin.

hoseok gave seokjin a few instructions, pointing at a bag and telling seokjin to fill it up with the transparent liquid next to it. seokjin followed dutifully, only looking up at namjoon when he winced.

hoseok left a few moments later, instructing seokjin to keep an eye on namjoon’s vitals and to press the help button on the heart monitor machine if anything happened.

the awkward silence seemed to stretch between them, the quiet beepbeepbeep of namjoon’s heart monitor the only sound in the room.

"so, joonie, mind telling me about what you dragged me all the way here for?” seokjin asked, breaking the pregnant pause.

namjoon made a wounded sound at the back of his throat. "i didn’t drag you, you came willingly!“

airily, seokjin waved a hand. "there’s not much of a difference-”

“not much meaning there is!” namjoon interjected triumphantly.

seokjin grunted, trying not to smile. "i still wanna know what you have to tell me so desperately.“

namjoon took a deep breath. "are you sure you want to hear it?”

seokjin nodded firmly.

“i have a cardiac myxoma.”

seokjin blinked. "a what?“

"a malign heart tumor,” namjoon explained, “and according to the doctors i only have around half a year, give or take, left to live.”

“i’m sorry.” seokjin didn’t know how else to respond.

namjoon breathed out sharply. "no, i’m sorry. i’ve always been too much of a romantic, and jeongguk keeps teasing me for it, and you’ll probably hate me for this, or think that i’m weird, but i- i think i like you.“ he confessed.

seokjin fell over backwards, lying across namjoon’s long legs. "damn. okay.”

namjoon cursed under his breath. "i’m sorry, that was such a dumb thing to say. forget what i just said. i can’t believe i just said that, oh my god-“

seokjin laughed, reaching up and flicking namjoon’s nose. namjoon blinked, a small look of surprise coming over his face. "what can i say? i’m a very likable person. only dr min seems to hate me, but again, he seems to hate everyone.”

namjoon breathed a sigh of relief. "you took that remarkably well. i mean, a guy who’s about to die just told you he liked you, and you just responded with 'okay’. i would’ve freaked out, big time.“

namjoon sat back up. "i mean, you seem like a nice person. for 'a guy who’s about to die’, as you so eloquently put it, you seem pretty upbeat. if i was about to die, i’d be pretty depressed about it.”

namjoon frowned thoughtfully. "for a while, i was, actually. i mean, i don’t want to die, you know, i’m only twenty four.“

seokjin’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. namjoon was younger than him!

"i don’t want you pity or anything, i just want to make the most out of what little time i have left.” namjoon smiled wistfully. "speaking of which, have you ever been to america? it seems like a nice place. i’d like to go there one day.“

seokjin nodded, unable to help but feel bad for the man with a faulty heart, the man with so many dreams and aspirations, the man who deserved so much more than a life snatched away by the cruel hands of fate.

"i studied there for a few years,” seokjin replied quietly, “performing arts. i used to want to be a singer, or an actor, but after mom and dad passed away, i put that dream aside so i could raise taehyung. i quit school to manage our family restaurant. taetae’s my little brother, and i love him so much. he deserves so much more than what i could ever give him.”

namjoon sniffled, and seokjin looked at him in alarm. “sorry,” he sniffed, “i just think taehyung should be grateful to have such a great hyung like you.”

seokjin smiled, flushed with pride. "thanks, joonie. you should meet tae one day, i think you’d like him.“

namjoon hummed thoughtfully. "jin-hyung?”

“yah?”

seokjin looked up. namjoon was blushing so hard, even the tips of his ears were pink. "could- could you sing for me?“ he asked shyly.

now, it was seokjin’s turn to blush. "ah, i haven’t sung in years…”

“please, hyung?”

namjoon pouted, and whatever resolve seokjin had melted away at the sheer cuteness of it. "are there any songs in particular that you’d like me to sing?“

"i don’t really mind…” namjoon trailed off, looking at him hopefully. "have you written any?“

seokjin nodded guiltily. he’d written quite a few, but he’d never sang them to an audience. sure, taehyung and jimin had heard his first song, awake, but he’d never sang them epiphany.

"i’ll sing you epiphany,” seokjin decided. namjoon could listen to awake another day. he’d written epiphany not long ago, as a sort of follow up to awake. seokjin had written awake when he’d dropped out of performing arts, pouring all the heartache, all the pain, all the loneliness into the song. epiphany was about him moving on, with the knowledge that taehyung would support him, no matter what.

seokjijn opened his mouth and began to sing.

and by god, it was beautiful- his voice was hauntingly melodious, notes of pure power escaping his lips, the strength of the vibrato enough to bring tears to anyone’s eyes. even though the melody was simple, it was as if seokjin had put his heart on his sleeve, bared his soul for those who were willing to listen. namjoon closed his eyes, unable to resist the temptation to tune out the sounds of the outside world, drowning himself in the beauty of seokjin’s voice. for a while, it was like seokjin had swept namjoon away from the dreary hospital he was stuck in until his imminent demise, a welcome distraction from the pain that plagued his heart.

but as soon as it began, it was over.

seokjin was blushing, cheeks tinted rose. "was… was that okay? it’s the first time i’ve sang that to anyone.“

namjoon was too busy gawking at seokjin with wide eyes and an open mouth to respond. "wow.” kim namjoon was rarely ever rendered speechless, but seokjin…

kim seokjin was something else entirely.

“wow.” namjoon repeated as intelligently as he could. "you- wow. just wow.“

seokjin smiled shyly. "i’ll take that as an 'it was okay’?”

namjoon nodded, still looking a little starstruck. "that was more that okay, that was just… wow. i have no words.“

seokjin laughed, relief visible on his face. "thank god.”

suddenly, the door was kicked open, and jeongguk rolled in on his wheelchair, jimin pushing him in with an annoyed expression on his face. jeongguk gave namjoon a subtle thumbs up, mouthing you chose well, hyung!

namjoon smacked jeongguk hard on the head as he rolled over. "shut up, guk!“ he hissed.

"seokjin-ssi, your singing is so good!” jeongguk gushed, a devious grin on his face.

seokjin’s mouth popped open in an 'o’ before he collected himself. "thanks, jeongguk, and hyung is fine.“ he laughed a little. "i wasn’t even aware i was singing that loudly!”

jeongguk burst out laughing. "did namjoon-hyung tell you that he used to be an underground rapper?“ he asked, eyes gleaming with mischief.

behind seokjin, namjoon shook his head rapidly, mouthing at jeongguk to just shut up already and stop ruining his life.

"no,” seokjin replied, “he didn’t, actually. i wonder who would bury such a good looking wrapper, though. maybe they thought the wrapper looked too precious.”

it took namjoon a few seconds to understand what seokjin had said. "did you just use a pick up line disguised as a pun on me?“

seokjin let out another one of his infamous windshield wiper laughs, throwing his head back. "it’s not a pick up line, it’s a fact,” he told namjoon with an obnoxious wink.

namjoon groaned, burying his head in his hands. he didn’t even know he could get this flustered in a day.

“jiiiin!” he wailed.

“i bet you five hundred won seokjin-hyung is a top,” seokjin heard jeongguk whisper to jimin.

the kid really thought seokjin couldn’t hear him, huh.

“thanks for your faith in me, but i’m not a shirt,” seokjin said with a grin, unleashing another bout of windshield wiper laughs.

the door burst open, revealing a panicked looking hoseok. "what’s happening? namjoon’s heart rate is dangerously high.“ he turned to seokjin. "didn’t i tell you to press the alarm if anything suspicious happened?”

namjoon slammed a pillow onto his face, groaning into it. "if i have a heart attack right now and i die, jinnie-hyung, you’re paying for my funeral.“

hoseok sighed, grabbing seokjin by the shoulders and frogmarching him away from namjoon. "please try not to accidentally kill joonie. his heart is fragile enough as it is.” hoseok leaned closer. "if you break his heart,“ he whispered dangerously, "i’ll make sure yours stops beating and make it look like a convenient accident.”

seokjin gulped, barely hiding the squeak that came out of his throat. "are you allowed to do that?“

hoseok smirked. "who knows?”

seokjin swallowed. he didn’t want to cross the nurse. "it’s not like i have any intentions of breaking joonie’s heart anyway.“ he muttered under his breath.

namjoon looked at the older duo curiously. ”hyungs? what’s wrong?“

"nothing!” seokjin yelped as hoseok subtly stomped on his foot. "just got something lodged in my throat, that’s all.“ he said in his normal voice. "i’m fine now.”

hoseok gave him one last warning look before slipping out the door again. jeongguk snorted. "hyung, your lies are as bad as joon-hyung’s old haircut, and your excuses are as cringey as runch randa.“

namjoon gasped, visibly offended. "excuse you, gukkie, but runch randa is great!”

seokjin nodded in agreement. "taehyung forced me to come along to one of runch randa’s shows. i don’t regret it one bit, though. the guy seemed pretty cool.“

jimin grinned slyly. "seokjin-hyung, namjoon-hyung is runch randa.”

seokjin’s eyes went wide before he composed himself. "well, i regret watching that show even less now.“ he turned to namjoon, who buried his head in his hands. "your rapping’s pretty good.”

but not as good as your looks, seokjin added in his head.

“thanks.” namjoon mumbled, voice muffled by his palms.

they spent the rest of the morning like that- the two maknaes bringing up old memories to embarrass their hyungs, namjoon being a flustered mess and seokjin heroically defending namjoon with dad jokes and embarrassing jimin and jeongguk instead.

seokjin had struck up a conversation, both of them giggling like teenage schoolgirls whenever seokjin made a pun, laughing when they both lapsed into awkward silence and the heart monitor beepbeepbeeped in the background.

at one point, namjoon had fallen asleep, exhaustion taking over after laughing too hard. seokjin had stayed awake, staring down at him with loving eyes, fondly stroking his hair, fingers brushing against his skin. for a second, seokjin wondered how it would feel to wake up to that beautiful sight every morning.

he felt his cheeks grow hot, and he forced the thought away. he’d always been too much of a romantic.

namjoon’s eyes suddenly snapped open. "jin-hyung?“ his voice was uncharacteristically weak.

"yah, namjoon-ah?” seokjin asked, concerned for the younger man. "what’s wrong?“

namjoon whimpered. "hyung, my chest hurts.” his voice was growing weaker, even the beeping from the heart monitor seemed a little quieter. "i- i- think i’m dying.“

seokjin’s eyes went wide. "no. joon-ah, stay with me.” he slammed the 'help’ button several times, hoping that hoseok would arrive quickly.

“but hyung, it hurts…”

“kim namjoon, you are not dying on me.” seokjin demanded. namjoon was not going to die, not on his watch.

“jin-hyung…” namjoon’s eyes fluttered shut.

seokjin nearly screamed.

“no! namjoon, stay with me. namjoon, please. hoseok-ssi is coming, and dr min-ssi too. you’re going to be okay. joonie, goddammit, stay with me.”

the heart monitor flat-lined, and this time, seokjin screamed for real. "namjoon!“ he could feel hot tears of dread pooling in his eyes against his will. "namjoon, please don’t go.”

hoseok kicked the door open, dr min behind him. "what did you do?“

"i didn’t do anything!” seokjin wailed. "he just said his chest hurt, and then-“ he waved his arms wildly, unable to put the whole experience into words. he turned to the surgeon, desperation written all over his face. "dr min-ssi, please, you have to help him!” hoseok and another nurse started loading namjoon’s unconscious body onto a trolley, ready to wheel him off elsewhere.

“please, you have to help him,” seokjin croaked, voice cracking with emotion he didn’t know he had. "i- i think i’m in love with him.“

dr min smirked. "i’m not the best heart surgeon in korea for nothing, you know. i try my best to save my patients” he put on a pair of surgical gloves, latex snapping against his wrists. "you can count on me, seokjin-ssi.“

seokjin collapsed in relief.

"someone get him out,” commanded the surgeon, “i don’t want to risk him freaking out and getting a heart attack too.”

one of the nurses dragged seokjin out, sitting him down on a bench and warning him to stay there. seokjin just prayed that namjoon would be alright.

***

namjoon woke up alone in a hospital room. he sat up curiously, looking around. beside him, the heart monitor beeped, reassuring namjoon that he was still alive. he glanced down. his chest was covered with bandages, but it didn’t hurt anymore. he just felt numb.

hoseok walked in, sat down beside him. "so, namjoon, how are you feeling?“

"like i just died,” namjoon rasped out as dr min pushed the door open with a concerned but proud expression on his face. "what happened? i can’t remember what happened. did i pass out? where’s jin-hyung?“

questions, questions, so many questions.

"namjoon-hyung!” jeongguk shouted as he wheeled himself in, almost rolling right over jimin who was holding the door open for him. "you’re alive!“ he yelled gleefully.

namjoon shook his head. jeongguk was being too loud. everything hurt, but at the same time nothing did.

"what happened?”

jimin stepped in, another young man in tow, looking at them curiously. jimin whispered something to the young man, whose gaze focused on namjoon for a few seconds before he made the 'i’m keeping my eye on you’ gesture at namjoon.

“guys? why is nobody answering my question?”

hoseok took a deep breath. "namjoon, you were-“

”-clinically dead for almost a minute,“ dr min finished for him. "your heart stopped beating-”

“so we gave you a heart transplant.” namjoon raised an eyebrow. since when were the surgeon and the nurse so close to each other that they could finish each other’s sentences? "luckily, we had a willing donor.“

"you were out for two days afterwards, but thankfully the surgery went successfully.” dr min added, rubbing his eyes. now, namjoon could see the dark circles and the eye bags- one of the cons of working as an er surgeon.

“we still have to run a few tests to make sure you’re completely fine, and that the tumor won’t reappear elsewhere, but if everything goes alright, you’ll be discharged in a few days.” hoseok told him happily.

namjoon nodded, glad that he’d be able to see the outside world again. but there was still one question at the forefront of his mind- where was seokjin?

the young man namjoon didn’t recognize gave him a sad look. "who do you think gave you his heart?“

namjoon choked on his breath, and hoseok immediately came dashing over to his aid. "what?” namjoon could barely hear himself over the thumpthumpthump of his new beating heart. "no. no. no-“

the young man passed namjoon a card with a grim look on his face. it was red, with black spots, folded up to look like a ladybug. "he wanted you to have this.”

namjoon nodded his thanks, swallowing the lump in his throat and unfolding the card with shaky hands. with his luck and destructive tendencies, he accidentally ripped a corner. he read the neatly written words: go out the door, and look for all the ladybugs.

namjoon blinked. ladybugs? why would seokjin want him to look for ladybugs?

“what does it say?” the young man asked namjoon with a look of childish curiosity. "hyungie wouldn’t tell me,“ he said with a pout.

so this is taehyung, namjoon realized, seokjinnie’s beloved baby brother. he wasn’t quite sure when exactly he’d started calling seokjin nicknames in his head, and he couldn’t hide the blush sweeping across his cheeks at the realization. "he told me to find the ladybugs.”

jimin raised an eyebrow. "ladybugs?“

jeongguk shrugged, wheeling himself behind jimin and pulling the shorter man onto his lap. "i’m sure he did it for a reason. seokjin-hyung doesn’t look like the type to do random things, and i’m pretty sure he wouldn’t send namjoon-hyung on a wild goose chase, not in this state.”

“i think you mean wild card chase,” namjoon said with a small grin.

jimin groaned, leaning back against jeongguk. "oh god, you’ve been spending too much time with seokjin-hyung.“

"either way, i’ll do it.” if nobody would tell namjoon where seokjin was, he’d find jin himself. maybe it was payback for all those times seokjin had to hunt namjoon down after another one of namjoon’s hospital room escapades.

“you have to be careful, though,” warned the surgeon, “your body is still weak.”

namjoon nodded. "i will, dr min.“

the surgeon gave namjoon a rare but genuine smile. "please, just call me yoongi.”

namjoon agreed, eyeing hoseok, who blushed a dark red and dismissed himself. "alright, yoongi-hyung. i’ll get going now, and you can go find hobi-hyung.“

yoongi shot him a familiarly terrifying scowl, stomping off to find the nurse he was denying his obvious love for.

now, it was time for namjoon to find his love. it was all a bit strange, really- namjoon had never believed in all that 'love at first sight’ stuff jimin loved to spout, but embarrassing as it was, seokjin had changed all that.

gingerly, namjoon pulled on a shirt, stepped off the bed and almost fell flat on his face. it seemed like he’d forgotten how to use his legs. jeongguk snickered. "now you feel my pain, hyung.” namjoon chose to flip the boy the bird, taking another cautious step forward. he’d do this. for seokjin.

slowly but surely, namjoon made his way through the hospital. it was strangely quiet, for midday. but that didn’t matter- he kept walking, left foot after right, guided by the ladybug cards plastered to the wall, steps powered by his love for the man who’d stuck them. he’d opened up a few of the cards, which were filled with puns, each one more ridiculous than the last. namjoon couldn’t help but smile as he read them.

“oof!”

he stumbled forward as somebody bumped into him. he reached out for something, anything, to stop himself from falling. he latched onto something hard and warm, and a pair of muscular arms wrapped around his waist. he looked up, spotting an angel with broad shoulders and twinkling brown eyes.

“wow, namjoon, you should be careful.” the angel 'reprimanded’ him. "can’t have you falling for me already, eh?“

namjoon gawked up at him. "jin-hyung?” the older man looked gorgeous as ever, even with messy hair and a hint of dark eye circles. like always, he looked too beautiful to be real. "are you really here?“

seokjin grinned, smile lines appearing on his face. "i’m real, i promise. i do like hearing that i’m beautiful, though.” he handed namjoon a small red box with black spots on it.

namjoon snorted. "you’re so vain.“

"hey! respect your hyungs!”

namjoon choked out an apology between snickers, unable to help but smile. "but really, jinnie-hyung? ladybugs?“

seokjin helped him to his feet. "what can i say?” he said with a mischievous wink. "i guess i’m your lucky charm.“

namjoon laughed. "another pun? i should’ve known.” he thought he was used to seokjin’s love for puns, but apparently not, it seemed.

“open it, namjoon-ssi!” an excited voice cried. "hyung’s been waiting for this moment since-“

seokjin all but shoved taehyung out of namjoon’s line of sight. "ignore taetae.” taehyung stood beside seokjin, bouncing up and down like an excited child. seokjin pushed him a little further. namjoon glanced around, seeing jeongguk, with jimin sitting on his lap. even hoseok and yoongi were there! jeongguk made a small ripping motion, waiting for namjoon to open the box.

seokjin cleared his throat, yelling at everyone to piss off because they were making him nervous. nobody responded. “open the box, joon-ah.” he told namjoon softly, a stark contrast to him mere seconds ago.

gently, namjoon opened the ladybug box, gaping when he saw the heart bracelet inside, 'knj + ksj’ carved on the back. "what-“

he looked back up. seokjin was kneeling on me. "kim namjoon, i gave you my metaphorical heart. now will you be my boyfriend?”

namjoon’s brain spun. now it all made sense- another donor had given namjoon their literal heart, and when taehyung asked 'who do you think gave you his heart’, he’d meant seokjin had given namjoon his figurative heart. impossible as it seemed, namjoon’s love for seokjin- and seokjin’s love for him- had kept namjoon alive.

“thank god,” said namjoon, stalling for time, “i thought you were proposing.”

“say yes anyway!” jeongguk shouted impatiently, only for jimin to turn and smash his palm on jeongguk’s mouth.

“marrying me wouldn’t be that bad,” seokjin protested, “i’m just a little high maintenance-”

“stand up,” namjoon told him demandingly, using the voice hoseok had playfully nicknamed him 'president’ for.

seokjin did exactly that. "it’s okay if you reject me, i just-“

namjoon smashed his lips to seokjin’s. "shut up,” he whispered with a small smile.

seokjin had a goofy grin on his face. "make me.“

namjoon kissed him again.

6 notes · View notes

rinahayashi · 7 years ago

Text

Saizo’s Timeline

Saizo’s age in his MS and during the major events that have been revealed to us, so far, including: his love for dango and his swords.

“Age is just a number, little lady.”

OMFG! >_<;; Saizo... stop staring at us like that...

Well, yeah, I get it... you love Saizo and want to know every little thing about him. Sure, okay, he’s dashing, mysterious, daring, and he’s pretty much god-mode with a sword, but you know you’re in for a tough morning when this is the main screen on your cell phone:

Well, f🌸ck! Continue Romance... oh, yeah.. sure, let’s, um, let’s get right on that... *ghosts flies out of mouth* 👻

Spoilers for Main Story as the ‘age markers’ are revealed. It’s not a plot reveal, per se, but some minor plot points pertaining to Saizo’s character development will be shown. If you know nothing about Saizo and want to figure it out on your own, do not continue.

Timeline:

Main Story - Saizo is about 29 years old. His MC is about 20.

SLBP Saizo has had two birthdays since SLBP launched in English, so that makes him currently 31, which he joked about in his last birthday story release stating that he was officially old now.

Saizo was about 14 when he started working for the Sanada clan. Yukimura was 10.

The Sakura Tree Story - MC was about 5 years old, when she met a crying boy under a tree and gave him dango.

By the end of his MS route, Divine End, we learn that event was 15 years prior to the Main Story’s “present”. So, that makes tearful Saizo “boy” about 13 or 14 years old when he met a 4 or 5 year old MC. In another event story, it’s revealed that during their little snack break he also stole, I mean “found”, five-year-old MC’s little flowered hair comb and kept it FOREVER! WTS! He could have found her house and given it back, but nope! I bet she cried when she realized she lost her favorite hair comb, too. *smh* Outstanding moral fiber...

Bish... stop!! (my heart is fluttering)

He freaking bought the restaurant that had the cherry tree outside where he met MC and had a happy memory of someone giving him dango. Obsessed much? *holds my head* Apparently, in Iga Village, no one gave anyone anything. So, that passing act of kindness really made an impression.

Best Friend’s Death - Ten years before the Main Story’s ‘present’, he killed his best friend. So, he was about 18 or 19 when that happened. They were going to go see the sakura blossoms before it happened, so it might have been before his late April birthday that year making him 18 at the time.

Story event - a demon sakura (yomi-zakura) shows him the “spirit” of his dead best friend, which reveals the season of his death. The “three” of them, his best friend, best friend’s lover, and Saizo, could not meet in the Spring, presumably, because of his best friend’s betrayal of Iga Village and subsequent ordered execution:

And we know, certainly, it was raining when that went down. So, perhaps it was still winter. Ugh. That rain tho...

Why he did it: The “IT” being the Oda clan had his best friend’s lover as a hostage and forced his best friend to betray Iga village. Even though, his unnamed best friend was forced to do it to save the woman he loved, Saizo was compelled by the elders to slay the one who betrayed them and reaffirm his loyalty to Iga Village. (Historically: This was WAY different btw. But it was Oda Nobunaga who did eventually conquer Iga, after his son’s failed attempts.)

Possible misunderstanding: Event story - Akane’s story - her “brother” / potential “lover” was the best friend Saizo killed. No, completely different ninja clan and killing Akane’s “brother” was an unrelated job Saizo had.

Reasoning: Saizo killed Akane’s “brother” right in front of her, and she just about lost her sh🌸t swearing to kill Saizo. Whee! He just about let her, too. *smh* However, since Akane is from another clan of ninja, that is, by the time her event story happens, almost extinct, she’s the last female in her clan btw, it’s impossible. She’s not an Iga Village ninja, that’s all we know for sure.

Misunderstanding: Saizo was under the sakura tree crying, when MC found him with her magic dango, because he had just slain his best friend. Oops!

I thought this for a long time, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ but it’s impossible because Saizo didn’t kill his best friend till five years after that event. I know the Noble end states this:

but the math does not work with his MS route which leads to the Noble & Divine ends.

If that Noble end clue is the proper math and Saizo ate the dango the first spring after he killed his best friend, MC is only 14 or 15 >_<, Saizo is 23 or 24, Yukimura is 19 or 20, and he met MC ~9 years ago, a few months or one year after he killed his best friend, which was 10 years ago. WTS!! Sorry I just... no?!

Remember, main story route MC remembers giving him the dango at about age 5, twice we’re told his best friend died 10 years ago, and the Dango diary tells us Yukimura knew him before and after he developed his love for dango, which means he was at least 14 when he had the dango. So, LOL! I just can’t with this, but I misunderstood for a while. 😂

At the end, the Noble end again says it was 15 years since he first had her dango anyway...

It makes more sense: We know his best friend died 10 years before Main Story “present”, but he ate MC’s dango 15 years before Main Story “present.” The Divine End math & end of Noble End math works better. But, then we don’t know for sure why he’s crying because the memory of his best friend’s death no longer fits the timeline. :\ Maybe he’s just having a tough time, bad hair day, or fed up and frustrated with his life.

He’s definitely had a hard life growing up as a ninja. He’s had to fight for everything. And in the Event story with baby Hime, he reveals that he has no idea how to care for children because no one ever cared for him. Kids are left on their own in Iga Village. Other than cleaning their butts and being fed, the kids, according to Saizo and Kiyohiro, are on their own. Well, that’s pretty awful. It’s a wonder they aren’t all messed up in the head because raising kids without touching or interacting with them during their ‘baby years’ doesn’t work. Luckily, Saizo turned out to be a genius!

Oh well, that whole story was worth it just for this scene:

That’s right! Who’s your daddy? *blushu* Saizo...

The Dango: Yukimura relates the tale of Saizo’s love of dango. One day he came back from Kyoto and really loved dango. Well, okay then! It had never been a ‘thing’ for him until he returned to the Sanada from the capital one day. This happened when they were still ‘kids’, but since Yukimura knew him when it happened, it had to be when Saizo was a teen.

Just imagine kid Saizo demanding it as payment for favors... awww! “That’ll be 10 dango, little lord.”

It’s highly probable that Saizo’s love of dango started with MC giving him some along with Yakichi’s (MC’s dad) message: “if you have the will to eat, you have the will to live,” and if you can’t find one, then you can do the other even if the only thing that keeps you going is the next bite. Then smol Saizo took a bite of the dango, stopped crying, and smiled. I guess he never told the little lord this story. He kept it, along with MC’s hair comb, to himself. *sighs*

The Sword’s Secret: Saizo had been serving Lord Yukimura for a long time, probably those 5 years before his best friend died, before he ‘changed’, he was kinder or perhaps, at least, smiled and meant it more often. In MS chapter 8 “His Weakness,” Yukimura mentions in passing that Saizo didn’t always used to be that way. Meaning, the rain didn’t affect him like it does now, and, presumably, he was not always so cold and distant.

So, Yukimura isn’t the only one who used to be ‘cute’ 15 years ago. It’s hard to imagine a Saizo who wasn’t so cold, but Yukimura knows him not just for how he is now but how he used to be. It’s why Yukkin can put up with Saizo’s bullsh🌸t with boundless patience. Yukimura also knows why he changed, the sword’s secret, which he doesn’t openly tell anyone.

I get it, symbolically, he carries his best friend’s sword in his memory. But, I also call story line BS about not using it because almost every action shot we have of Saizo has him poised to go death-blender on someone with both katana.

Surprise! *snaps pic & posts on instagram* ...! *dies promptly afterwards*

Anyway... as you can see, he uses both.

#SLBP #Saizo Kirigakure #Saizo #timeline #just how old is this guy anyway #well now you know #you know some of those silver hairs could be legit by now #old man Saizo #Saizo's dango #two swords #all the time #damn Saizo so kinky...#meta #I was told to write this up as an article #so I freaking did!

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sapphicscholar · 7 years ago

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Prompt: hi hello thanks for all the fic you write i flipping love every word of it if you find the time/inspo could you write a fic where lena gets mad at kara for not tell her about being supergirl and it’s gets angsty AF but then happy ending :)

A/N: This is fairly canon compliant post-3x12, save for the James and Lena romance arc. Since I started writing it before ep. 13, I’m not dealing with the fact that Lena seems to have realized Sam’s double identity as Reign.

Chapter Text:

Lena wakes most mornings to dreams about everything that’s happened in the past couple of weeks, but one particular set of memories has haunted her sleeping hours more than any other. All too often she wakes to memories of strong arms wrapped around her and wind whipping through her hair the way it had when Supergirl caught her. She wakes to flashes of Kara’s face looking straight ahead, her eyes flickering down at Lena every so often, worry etched in her features so deep Lena fears it will never fade.

Over coffee, Lena tries to remind herself that Kara laughed at the suggestion, dismissed it as ludicrous. And she was poisoned—that much was easy enough to confirm. There’s no reason that the poison couldn’t have created illusions that seemed as true as any memory. Not that she has much reason to trust her memories, either; after all, she swore she had distinct memories of Lex’s being loving and caring and not at all the kind of person who would slaughter innocent people for a vendetta against a superhero. So she casts her dreams as just that—dreams—and discounts her own memories as nothing more than products of an overactive imagination. Kara is her best friend. Kara has told her time and time again that she trusts her and believes in her. There’s no reason Kara would keep a whole part of her life secret from Lena for this long.

As the weeks fly by in a rush of too much paperwork at both of her companies, and holding Sam’s hand after doctor’s appointments when she hears once more that no one knows what’s wrong with her, and coverage of Reign’s destruction with a new woman who calls herself Purity by her side, Lena doesn’t have too much time to dwell on the question of Kara and Supergirl’s identities. But she still finds herself making idle observations that leave her queasy with doubt, with growing certainty that Kara has been lying to her for over a year.

It starts simply. She prints out full-sized photos of Kara and Supergirl, both of them smiling and cropped down to only the face because the posture is nothing more than a distraction, Lena has realized. Lena has seen Kara with her hair down, has watched it cascade in soft waves over her shoulders before she pulls it back up into a messy bun at game night or movie night. She knows that the difference in hair in those photos is nothing more than superficial. It’s the same color, about the same length. The smile is a little different. Kara’s smile always seems to be halfway on its journey into a laugh, her mouth open a little and the crinkles by her eyes obvious. Supergirl’s smiles seem more professional, like she knows there are cameras everywhere trained on her and knows what they expect of her, what they need from her. So Lena discounts those differences as well. The eyes—Kara’s might be behind those glasses, but Lena pulls out a ruler, going so far as to compare eye size and ratios. Then there’s that little scar, often hidden behind the swoop of Supergirl’s flowing hair but present—provably present. And oh, it seems like damning evidence.

She wonders what someone would think if they saw her with the two headshots and a notebook full of observations. Would she look like Lex? Is she as bad as Lex? She tells herself no, she can’t be; she isn’t doing this to harm Supergirl, after all. She’s doing this to…well, she isn’t quite sure. But Lena knows for certain that she has to know the truth.

The next round of observations involves spending more time with Kara—something she’s never been opposed to, though now she feels a little dirty, like she’s deceiving Kara, even as she finds more and more proof that the woman’s been doing the same to her. There are the broken lunch dates or the movie nights that end early with promises to reschedule and rambled excuses about forgotten meetings or emergency calls from family. All but one time, those disappearances coincided with Supergirl’s arrival on the scene of some would-be tragedy, and Lena feels a whirl of emotions churning somewhere deep inside of her. It isn’t anger per se—she’s happy that people aren’t dying because their resident hero was there to save the day—but it’s something close, something like betrayal and frustration mixed with an excruciating, overwhelming sadness that threatens to consume her. Kara’s always apologetic when she returns, but it’s never for the right reasons, and Lena suspects Kara sees through her murmured, “It’s fine,” each time.

With every bit of proof, Lena feels herself pulling away. She tries once or twice to get Kara to trust her. She tried bringing up the dreams again about Kara whisking her away like Supergirl. She tried asking Kara about where she went, why she wasn’t at her desk during the workday or in mandatory meetings. And each time Kara babbled off some semi-incoherent lie about a lead or an emergency—“gosh, no, not a life-threatening emergency, just, um, family stuff!”—that left Lena more and more certain that Kara was indeed Supergirl and didn’t trust Lena enough to tell her.

It all comes to a head when Reign swoops in through CatCo on a Saturday. Almost no one is in the office. She’s there, of course, and James is in his office with Winn whisper-yelling at him about something from the night before and “safety first” and not having “signed up for this.” Kara had gamely offered to come in with Lena when she mentioned needing to pick up some contracts. In retrospect, she wonders if Kara knew Reign was following Lena. Reign barely even gives a speech this time—something about CatCo’s refusal to publish the truth, their siding with criminals and the evil in society—before she moves to attack.

Lena watches the flash of hesitation on Kara’s expression that lasts barely a few seconds. As Reign sends a blast of heat vision directly at Lena, Lena barely has time to register the attack or Kara’s movements before Kara is standing in front of her, glasses thrown off somewhere, heat vision from her own eyes pushing back Reign’s. She’s still in her Kara Danvers clothes, and Lena can’t help but note that as she follows Winn and James around the office, trying to find an escape route, neither of them look even a little bit shocked at the realization that Kara is Supergirl. And oh, she could have dealt with the lying had Kara been doing it to everyone, but seeing that these two know, seeing that they’d been trusted, allowed in to see a level and a side of Kara that she had not…she doesn’t know if she’ll survive that kind of betrayal.

She watches Kara fight more fiercely than Supergirl ever has. Her expression has never looked less like Kara’s than when Reign comes for Lena once more, and Kara charges at the villain, knocking her to the side and crashing through rows and rows of desks before Reign even seems to realize that her path has been forcibly altered. Eventually James gets them into a stairwell, and a team of people Lena sees in the fringes of CatCo’s Supergirl coverage swarm the building, guns blazing and barking orders. She sees Alex, and her heart sinks a little further. She’s wearing a suit that looks far too much like the one her mother wore the last time she saw her, and Lena wonders if they’ve repurposed it. She yells for someone to “get the civilians outta here” before charging into battle, no thought for her own human mortality. As Lena is shepherded down the back stairwell, she wonders if Alex would act the same were Supergirl not her sister. Then again, the woman had thrown herself in front of a loaded gun for Lena before even having met her, so perhaps she would.

Lena doesn’t see Kara leave the building, but she catches a flash of blonde hair from behind a sea of agents clad in all black and then the telltale glowing green of Alex’s suit.

A few days later, Kara texts her: “Can I come over?”

Lena tries to figure out where she wants to have this conversation. She thinks about going to Kara’s instead because she can leave if things get to be too much. But ultimately she relents, sending back, “Fine.”

A few minutes later, Kara is at her door, clutching two to-go cups from Noonan’s. She looks awkward and more than a little exhausted. She’d been out sick from CatCo both Monday and Tuesday—a fact that had left James and Winn on edge—but if the speed is any indication, she’s at least back up to normal.

“Hi.” Kara shuffles her feet and waits for Lena to step back before she dares to cross the threshold. “I got this for you.”

Lena accepts the cup with a small nod.

“I guess you probably remember Saturday, huh?”

“Would you have preferred I didn’t?” Lena asks coolly. A small part of her feels guilty for the pained expression that distorts Kara’s features, but her overwhelming impulse is still to demand answers.

“Lena,” Kara sighs, “it’s not like that.”

“Then tell me what it is like.” Lena sneers the last two words, feeling anger building at how lightly Kara seems to be treating it all. “Because from where I stand it looks like no matter how much you told me that you trusted me, no matter how many times I saved the world and abandoned my own family to do it, you wouldn’t tell me this massive thing about you.”

“That’s not fair,” Kara shoots back, her voice taking on an indignant pitch.

“No, Kara, I don’t think you quite get what that means.” And oh, Lena can hear herself getting too close to the Luthor side she always worried lurked inside of her, but she can’t quite seem to stop herself either. “You told me Kara Danvers believed in me, that Supergirl trusted me. But neither of those were true. You let me give up a family because I assumed I had people in my corner, even when you knew all along that you weren’t really all the way there, wouldn’t let me all the way in the same way I did for you.”

“You know what, I don’t have to stand here and apologize.” Kara looks angrier then, angrier than Lena’s ever seen her. “I don’t owe you—or anyone, for that matter—a confession or an explanation.”

“Don’t have to apologize for lying to me every day for over a year?”

“Do you not remember when we met for the first interview?” Kara nearly laughs incredulously. “You remember what you were pitching, yeah? A freaking alien detection device to sell to employers because they had the right to know whether their employees were ‘hiding something from them.’ Do you know how incredibly unsettling that was for me?”

“I—” Lena begins, but Kara’s not nearly done yet.

“You were standing there telling me that who I am is something that can and should be used against me if a person isn’t okay with aliens, no matter what rights the president has tried to give us.”

“I eventually pulled the device, didn’t I?”

“Your first instinct was still to make it!”

“It’s been over a year since then! In that time, when have I ever turned my back on you? Or would you rather focus on my family? Want to count up how many times I’ve been accused of being on their side? Or maybe we should talk about that time I went to prison.”

“I defended you then—as Kara and Supergirl.”

“But even after I almost died for you—again—you still wouldn’t tell me the truth.”

“Why is it so important to you that you know? Why do you think I owed that to you?”

Lena swallows the hurt, bites back the explanations that she feels utterly broken by the knowledge that Kara didn’t trust her enough to tell her; it’s safer to focus on anger and indignation—it always has been. “You told everyone else. Winn, James—they weren’t exactly surprised to see Kara Danvers going head-to-head with Reign. The only thing they seemed shocked about was that you did it in front of me.”

“I—they knew a long time ago, Lena. Before I ever met you. Hell, James knew before he even met me, and Winn found out on day one, well, two technically, because I had to tell someone, anyone!”

“So what? I’m just supposed to accept that I didn’t get the same privilege because I’m not your oldest friend? Tell me, Kara, does Maggie know?”

“That’s different.”

“How? I met you before she even met Alex.” Lena doesn’t point out that Kara also had her ups and downs with Maggie—points they had discussed in detail over ice cream while Lena felt herself falling just a little harder at how protective Kara could be over her sister.

“She figured it out on her own.”

“So did I! I asked you about it, and you convinced me I was poisoned with fake memories. And then I tried again and again to give you space for honesty, and every time you laughed and tried to make me seem crazy for even suggesting it.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara finally relents.

“For what?”

“For making you feel like you were crazy.”

“But not for not telling me.”

“I didn’t owe that to you!”

“Fine.” Lena gestures to the door, knowing if they keep going, she’ll end up doing something she regrets, like crying and confessing that she’d given her friendship, her heart, her most vulnerable moments to this woman who couldn’t trust her with her own secret.

Kara seems to be on the verge of saying something, but eventually she drops her head, her shoulders slumping slightly, and she walks out the door without a second look back.

For the next few months, Lena throws herself into work back at L-Corp, managing CatCo from a distance. She spends almost all of her waking moments working, and when she gets home, there’s always a sleeping pill or a glass of wine to help her relax just enough to crash for a few hours. She keeps up on Supergirl coverage, but she never attempt to ask about it, never wants to give the impression that she’s meddling or particularly curious.

For the first time in a while, Lena lets herself leave the office at a reasonable hour one Friday, making it home by 8. She finds Kara sitting outside her door, a bag of takeout on the ground beside her.

“We need to talk,” Kara says.

Lena wants to point out that Kara lost the right to tell her what she does and does not need to do, that there isn’t much of a “we” these days anyway. But she also finds her heart speeding up just a bit. She’s missed Kara, missed the easiness of their nights together, missed having someone she genuinely enjoyed being around, someone who didn’t just see her as a Luthor or their boss. So instead she unlocks the door and holds it open behind her.

“I brought dinner.” Kara begins pulling out different cartons and goes so far as to use her heat vision to warm them back up again.

“You could’ve saved me on some of those utility bills over the months,” Lena points out, unable to hold back the snark.

“Did the latest multi-billion dollar acquisition deplete your funds?” Kara teases, looking like she’s not entirely sure that it’s alright to do so.

“What do you want, Kara?” And the question might sound harsh, but Lena sits down at the table. She’s been angry—with both Kara and herself in turn—and sad and bitter over the past few months, but most of all, she’s been lonely.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. There were a few times when I was so close to doing it. And, yeah, at first I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know how you’d react. Supergirl was the one who told you about your mother the first time, and you still had devices that seemed designed to hurt people like me, people not from this planet.” Lena nods; she doesn’t like it, but she understands more now, gets how things looked to someone who wasn’t in her head, couldn’t know all of her reasoning and her thought processes. “But then we got closer.”

“We did.”

“And I realized you were good—not just good in the way that most people are—”

“The way you believe most people are,” Lena interjects.

“Fine, sure. But you were a different level of good. And no matter how many times your family or the media came after you, you just kept proving yourself and saving the world—sometimes doing a better job of it than Supergirl—than me.”

“So then why didn’t you trust me?”

“Do you remember what you said to me on your couch one night?”

“Probably,” Lena admits

“You told me that Kara Danvers was your hero.” Lena nods; she remembers the night vividly. “Do you know how few people would say that?”

“Kara, you are a hero.”

Kara sighs and shakes her head. “There have been times when even I thought that maybe Kara wasn’t worth salvaging, that it was Supergirl who mattered. And when I had friends—close friends, best friends even—who were out there talking about how their regular personas weren’t enough, that they needed to be a hero to do good for this city, it was hard to believe that other people wouldn’t think the same. And yeah, I had people like Alex and Cat, well, Cat when she was still here, who told me that Kara Danvers mattered. But you called her a hero, Lena. You called her a hero even though you knew her when Supergirl already existed. Alex and Cat—they knew me before I was ever Supergirl. But you—you didn’t, and you still thought that about me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’re really not getting how special that makes you, are you?” Kara looked almost frustrated. “You treated Supergirl differently than you treated me—not like a villain or an alien you didn’t trust, but it…it was more distant, you know? And that’s the way people treat Supergirl. She literally isn’t one of them, and that’s probably for the best. But people also—well, some people, at least—they worship Supergirl. They’d love me for that persona, not for who I am behind the cape and boots and cool powers, because they’d never even want to get to know that person.”

“I already know that person, Kara. I already know her and like her and want to spend time with her.”

“I know! I just…I guess there was a little, selfish part of me that wanted to keep one person in my life who only knew me as Kara Danvers. I didn’t want things to change. I…well, I kind of needed this—not this, I guess, but you and me hanging out and eating food and watching silly movies without the weight of the world on my shoulders. I didn’t…I don’t want you to look at me every time a siren goes off because sometimes it’s not an emergency, but I don’t want to have to worry about looking bad or disappointing you.”

“You could never disappoint me. You’re still human—or, maybe that’s the wrong word, but you’re still another person. You need time off to be yourself and relax. And I would never want to take that from you.”

“Really?”

Lena hated how vulnerable Kara looked then, like there were too many people out there who had crushed her with the weight of their expectations or let her believe that Supergirl mattered more than Kara ever could. “I promise.”

#supergirl #identity reveal #kara x lena #kara danvers #lena luthor #angst #happy ending #supercorp undertones #post-3x12 #fix it fic #ao3feed #fanfic #prompt fill

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emmaswanchoosesyou · 7 years ago

Text

CSBB: Part of the Narrative (12/17)

Emma Swan just wants to write the follow-up to her bestselling debut novel, that’s all. But when she gets off to a rough start with her new editor, Killian Jones, she knows it’s not going according to plan. Then, an unexpected figure from Emma’s past reappears and life begins to mirror the crime thriller she’s penning. Suspicion and secrets abound–but love might too. A writer/editor AU with a thriller twist.

Rated E. Includes sexual content, kidnapping, some gore, mild violence, and minor character death–not to mention salty language! On Ao3 here.

Chapter warnings: Confrontations, one main character striking another, lots of swearing, and a thing at the end

Buckle up, pals, shit’s getting real! Thank you so much to all of you who have been reading and commenting and waiting for things to get here, and to all of you who helped me get here. Thank you to all the wonderful ladies at @captainswanbigbang for all you’ve done to make this possible, and all the support you’ve given. Sophie @shady-swan-jones made the delightful banner and another photoset that I adore. Kayla @bleebug did some incredible art for the first and sixth chapters, which you can check out here and here. And all the love and thanks to Kris @sambethe for beta-ing this and making it a ton better. Like seriously, she’s the best.

[Ch. 1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11]

Chapter 12

Emma grapples with Killian's betrayal. She gets a lot of writing done, and she and Henry talk on the phone every day, but something is missing. They're on their way to reforging their broken relationship when the unthinkable happens.

Emma, a few days before upon discovering Killian’s and August’s involvement

Emma couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so livid. She was furious, so angry she was red and almost crackling with it.

Cleo held her back, tried to keep her from rushing right over to Killian's and punching him in the face. And then going to August and punching him twice. "Emma, think about it. Be smart, and don't let your anger get the best of you."

"Oh, they'll get the best of me. The best of my right hook," she growled, settling back into her couch.

Cleo snorted but shook her head. "Do you have any alcohol in here?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Let me get us some," she said, reaching for the whiskey and pouring generous portions for the two of them.

"After this...do you want me to give you a lift anywhere? Or do you want to talk about it?"

Grimacing, she shook her head. "No offense, Cleo, but the last thing I want to do is talk about my feelings right now."

"Understood."

&&&

Cleo left after an hour or so, during which time they polished off their drinks in near-silence, broken only infrequently when Emma had a question or Cleo remembered something pertinent.

Mindful of the alcohol she had consumed, Emma called a cab over to Killian's. She was still in a rage, still shaking, but she needed to talk, to yell, to see if he had any defense at all.

She pounded at the door. When Killian opened it with a smile and the tantalizing scent of pasta reached her nose, her resolve weakened for a second. Until he opened his mouth like nothing had happened, like he hadn't been lying to her for at least two months--

Her vision went red, and she slapped him. She felt a pang of guilt at that, but wrapped her anger around her like armor.

Killian implored her to stop, asking her what had happened, and the concern on his face made her even angrier. How dare he get to act like he hadn't done anything, like she was being irrational...

She stepped out of range of his grasp, not wanting his touch to weaken her, to tempt her to put this behind them. Emma waited until he closed the door before gritting out, "You were spying on me? What the hell, Killian? For August? What the actual fuck?"

She watched the color drain from his face, watched the guilt fall onto his shoulders and weigh him down. Mixed with the satisfaction of being right was the sharp sting of betrayal, the hurt of her trust in him being broken .

"I--wha--how did you find out?" Killian asked.

That now all-too-familiar rage settled about her again. "That's really what you want to know? How I found out?"

Killian reached for her again, and she pushed his hand away. Not forcefully, but she was still far too angry for the comfort of his arms.

He sighed. "I suppose that's not what matters now. I am sorry, though, I want you to know. I quit, I told August before our first date that I wouldn't continue to spy on you."

"Just...why? Why would you do that? Betray my trust like that?" Her voice broke, and this time her anger was for herself, for showing that he'd gotten under her skin.

"I...it was selfish, and wrong. I was trying to get away from a bad situation in London, and August offered me an out in exchange for my work and information on you. I didn't ask why, and he never volunteered a reason."

To her shame, she felt tears welling up, and she pushed them away as he continued to speak. "I stopped early on. I--I didn't count on you, Emma. You should know that. You swept through my life. You captivated me, mind, soul, and heart. I wouldn't--I can't begin to convey how sorry I am, but I also promise that I'd never hurt you or betray you again."

She drew in a deep breath, his declaration overwhelming her. It was like a punch to the gut, and she knew what she had to do. She could feel her heart breaking. She hadn't meant to get so attached so quickly, but--well, she didn't have a choice about it now, not if she wanted to remain true to herself, to do what was best for her. "Too late," she said. "I--I can't trust you anymore. You lied to me, and that--that's it for me."

He pleaded with her, and she tried to pull herself together as she assured Killian they'd still be able to work together as professionals.

As soon as she was done talking, Emma felt exhaustion creep over her, leaving her more emotionally drained than she'd been in years. She felt like someone had put her through the pasta machine sitting on Killian's counter, and she needed to leave. Now.

"Goodbye," she whispered, trying not to think about the devastated look on his face, or that she was leaving half her heart there with him.

&&&

The next week passed in a sort of fog, nestled between generous servings of ice cream and deliveries from Granny's. ("No, this isn't a thing we do for most customers," said Ruby, "but you're family so you get the onion rings with less effort and only a little colder than they'd be in the diner.")

Emma missed Killian more than she could have possibly imagined. She had been falling for him, that much was obvious. But beyond that, she hadn't realized how much of a friend he'd become. Somehow, he'd become the person she texted with weird things from her day or the bizarre writing thoughts she had. And she missed Killian texting her encouragement or pictures of cute animals. Or his thoughts about prominent literary figures and what kind of pajamas they probably wore.

At least she had Henry. Regina seemed to have found out that something had happened between her and Killian, and seemed more tolerant of the increasing frequency of calls between her and Henry. Finally, she even relented and consented to Henry spending a weekend with Emma.

She embraced the joy of having something positive to plan. There was relief too, that his visit in two weeks would keep her from moping. It wasn't a distraction, per se--how could her son ever be a distraction--but it kept her busy.

Emma was keen to introduce Henry to all her favorite Boston haunts, all the ones he'd be allowed into, that is. Until one day when she was talking about yet another thing she wanted to do, just one more museum she wanted to pack into his visit--

"Emma--Mom--you know I'll be just as happy if we don't do anything, right? Like, we can just watch movies and read comics and hang out. There'll be other weekends," Henry told her.

She let out a sigh of relief even as she felt a pang of disappointment. "Okay, kid. We can do that. Is Mario Kart still a thing, or...?"

He laughed, but they agreed, and she smiled, thinking about all that the weekend would bring.

Cleo was a big help, too. She invited Emma over for dinner with her husband and daughter, and she gratefully accepted, even if she did worry that it would be a little awkward.

It wasn't until she got an official email from Mills & Booth talking about the possibility of Killian being sent back to the UK--deported, and the necessity of having a meeting about the situation, that she really started to grapple with the new reality of her life and how awkward it could be. She had actually gotten some writing done during the week, and had sent it to Killian. Her tone had been professional, and she'd done her best to keep any sort of emotions out of the two emails she sent him. But it was her dinner at the Foxes' that brought things into focus. The meal had been pleasant enough, but it was obvious to all of them that Cleo had a lot on her mind.

Finally, during dessert, Cleo blurted out, "It's Killian. Apparently he's being deported. Immigration seems to have suddenly and 'randomly' found some mistakes in his paperwork."

Emma paled, her stomach dropping out from under her.

Just...no.

She might not be able to handle having Killian in her life romantically anymore, but the idea of him being gone, across the ocean? Forever? It was unthinkable.

She was barely aware of responding, but judging by the concern on Cleo's and Alex's faces, she had managed to say something. Then, bless her, Cleo told her that she was dragging her along to the meeting they were going to have about it at Mills & Booth.

&&&

She was distracted when he came into the room, too wrapped up in worry that Killian might leave permanently to actually notice him coming into the room. It wasn’t until he joined them on the couch that Emma started in surprise, but quickly schooled her features into something more neutral. She held her breath, waiting to see how the meeting, and Killian’s future here, might unfold.

Killian greeted the room awkwardly, and Regina was all business as they began. Cleo looked wary, and August had that punchable, smug look on his face. Though that faded as soon as Regina mentioned that a stay had been granted on Killian’s deportation.

Emma let out a sigh of relief and looked up, surprised. She hadn’t had a clue that Regina or Cleo were on top of this, at least not beyond knowing about it. She zoned out, only coming back when she heard August speaking. "First, I think we should really take a look at why Killian is here, and what he brings to the table. It might be easier to help you find a job back in the UK and just go with an American editor, or at least someone whose papers are in order."

"No!" Emma exclaimed, and everyone turned to look at her, with varying degrees of surprise on their faces

Killian’s face was a study in gratitude, and she had to look away. Instead, she stared August down. "No. Killian isn't replaceable. He's been a great editor, and his help and input have been invaluable. Changing editors at this juncture would have a very negative effect on the quality of my book, which I think we can all agree would be a bad thing."

"Are you sure you're not allowing your personal attachments to cloud your judgment, Miss Swan?" Regina asked.

"I am," she said, managing to keep her voice even as her heart twisted, "given that we've ended our personal association."

It was only then that she realized that maybe Regina hadn’t known before, if her raised eyebrow was any indication, but she seemed to like Emma more for defending Killian given their situation. Her expression warmed, sympathy glinting in her eyes. "Very well. So we can all agree that Mr. Jones is important for this novel--"

"--but we need to figure out whether his work on other projects is up to par. Otherwise, why bother with anything other than telecommuting?" August intejected.

Emma rolled her eyes so hard it hurt.

She clearly wasn’t the only one annoyed, since Regina’s scathing reply had him blushing. He recovered quickly, though. "I'm just trying to do what's best for Mills & Booth, and that includes maintaining a team that can work smoothly together. Is that really happening?"

"Yes," Emma said fiercely. It might not be entirely accurate at the moment, but she and Killian would get there. Hopefully.

But August didn’t look quelled, even through the subsequent exchanges. The reason for that became abundantly clear when the door burst open and Cora Mills strode in, poor Ariel trailing behind and desperately trying to stop her.

Cora Mills--Regina’s mother and the founder of Royal Hearts Publishing--was here. Regina didn’t look thrilled, but then, the feud between them--apparently related to Regina’s less-than-advantageous marriage--was well known in their circles. No one did, except perhaps for August.

The silence in the room stretched on before Cora finally broke it. "Hello, Regina. Your office is lovely, even if this is quite the collection of...professionals in it. Between the one in trouble with Immigration, the glorified beat cop, and the felon, I'm actually impressed Mills & Booth hasn't imploded already."

Emma felt her cheeks heat and rage pulse through her veins at the dig on her and the people she cared for. She leapt up from the couch, ready to fucking tackle Cora. Killian held her back, and Cora smirked. "I'd expect nothing less from an orphan of unknown parentage with a rap sheet.”

When Killian let her go so they could both fight her, Cleo was the only thing holding them back.

Then Regina spoke from where she’d made her way to the center of the room to stand in front of Cora. "Mother, what do you want? Or did you just come here to insult me and mine?"

"No, I came here with a proposition. Regina--and August, you both know very well I have plenty of contacts that could help fix Mr. Jones' little tiff with the authorities. And I'd gladly help promote Miss Swan's nove, if that's something you think is a worth cause," she said.

"But what do get out of it? I've never known you to do a damn thing for free," Regina said, looking more peeved than intrigued.

Cora replied, "I don't want anything but time with you, Regina. I've loathed being so cut off from my only child."

"How sentimental of you, and it might be more believable if I hadn't just seen a plan Mr. Booth drew up granting you shares in Mills & Booth."

Emma gasped and so did Killian, both of them shocked by this revelation.

Cora briefly tried to defend herself, but Regina told her to leave, clearly unconvinced by her mother’s motives. "Get out," she said. "And if you would kindly refrain from insulting my colleagues or bullying my assistant while you're on your way out, I'd appreciate it."

As soon as she left, they were quiet for a moment until Regina affirmed their commitment to getting Killian out of his immigration situation. They all nodded, except for August, who wasn’t meeting the glare Regina directed at him with one of his own.

They all left the room, one by one, not speaking to each other. Emma was aghast, floored at the entire meeting, but especially at the revelation that August was causing even more trouble than she’d realized.

&&&

Muttering to herself, she read from her screen. “Jacob looked from one side to the other, frantically trying to clear his head. But if his foster mother wasn’t responsible for taking him away… who was?”

Emma looked up from her laptop and pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. She reached for the coffee mug sitting on the side table as she pondered her next move. She had realized, much to her chagrin, that her original plan for the antagonist wasn’t as well-developed as she would have liked. It couldn’t be the foster mother--after developing the character, she just knew it wouldn’t work.

The leather of her chair creaked as she shifted, brow furrowed in thought. She had to think of something, but she was just so… stuck. Writer’s block was the worst.

She was interrupted from her “research,” which totally wasn’t going to be her perusing the Crate & Barrel website for hours, by a knock on her door. Puzzled by who it could be, she went to answer it. Through the peephole, she saw a deliveryman standing there with a bouquet.

“Emma Swan?” he asked as she opened the door.

“Uh, yeah,” she replied, gobsmacked by the arrangement of lilies and peonies that he hurriedly deposited in her arms before scurrying away. “Thanks, I guess?”

She took it inside and pried open the accompanying note.

Dearest Emma,

I cannot thank you enough for your supportive words during that hellish meeting. I know you're not particularly fond of me at present, and I don't blame you for that, but words cannot express how grateful I am that you stood up for me and my job.

I don't know what August's game or plan is, or how you want to handle it, but I'd like you to know that from here on out I am 100% on board with whatever you would like to do. If you decide you don't want to act, that's fine. If you decide you want to look into August's behaviour and reasons for spying on you, you need only ask and I'll assist you.

I owe you, and not just for sticking your neck out for my job and our partnership. I owe you for being the kind of woman who inspired me to step away from people like August, for being the kind of woman to remind me of what there is to live for. And whatever else I might be, I like to think I am at least a man of my word.

This isn't to make you uncomfortable, and if it does so, feel free to chuck this letter and the flowers. I made sure I had them sent to your home, since I wouldn't want there to be another floral mix-up like the one I heard about with Ariel a few years ago.

Thank you again, Emma.

Yours,

Killian Jones

Emma stared down at the letter, her eyes burning with unshed tears. One fell onto the page, blurring his signature. He had clearly written the note himself, and she was full of conflicting emotions.

On one hand, she wasn't afraid to admit it--she was still more than a little angry. But that anger was fading a little more each day as she realized the ways Killian had been manipulated into his actions. He still should have told her, but it was getting harder to hold onto her anger.

She wiped at the tear that had tracked down her face, once again noting how much she missed him. His silliness, his easy affection, the flowery speech…life was a little bit dimmer without all of it. She snorted as she read the last paragraph, the reference to her fiery reaction to Ariel's bouquet, one that she'd thought was hers, amusing her. Of course someone had told him about that.

Honestly, Emma wasn't sure she was quite ready to bring him back into her life. At least, not fully. She had a lot of other things going on, between the book, Henry, and now the August situation. But she could reply to him, lessen the tension between them.

She could at the very least do better than ignoring his gift and his note. Walking over to her sink, she reached in the cupboard for the vase she knew was up there gathering dust. She filled it with water and placed the bouquet on her kitchen table, smiling as she opened her email client to reply to him.

Hey, Killian--

Thank you so much for the flowers, they’re lovely. Peonies have always been a favorite of mine.

I’m not sure yet what I want to do about the August situation.Thanks for offering your help with whatever I decide.

I’ll be honest, I’m not ready to let bygones be bygones yet. Though I do miss talking to you and having you around. But I… well, I’m still not ready. Maybe I will be soon, though. Just give me some more time to work through stuff.

I do have some questions about my story. I think I’m kind of stuck, and I’m wondering how to proceed. I think I might have gotten onto the wrong track with my original antagonist, and I don’t know how to resolve it. Do you have any thoughts? (I’ll send you what I have, don’t worry.)

Thanks again for the flowers.

Emma

She thought about the rather abrupt ending to her note, but grimaced and hit send before she had a chance to overthink it. Drawing in a deep breath, she got up, more at ease and ready to work on completing Jacob’s story.

&&&

“Whoa, kid, slow down,” Emma said, laughing as Henry dragged her out of The Garden, chattering a mile a minute. It was Saturday, and he'd been with her for a little over a day at this point, and it had been one of the greatest days in her recent memory.

"But it was so cool! That final goal..." Henry said excitedly, jumping up and down as they made their way to the Bug.

She wrapped an arm around his shoulder, an affection stronger than anything she'd ever known rising in her as she pulled him close.

He grinned up at her. "So, grilled cheese? At that place where your friend Ruby works?"

"You've got it. And it's going to be the best grilled cheese you've ever had."

"Will there be hot cocoa?" Henry looked up expectantly.

Emma smiled back down at him. "Of course! Where do you think I first had it?"

They pulled up to the diner and slid into Emma's favorite booth. Belle nodded across the counter in greeting. "The usual, Emma?"

"Yep! And an extra for Henry here."

They unbundled, taking off their scarves and coats as they settled in. Ruby bounded out, her enthusiasm apparent in her every step.

"Hey! I've heard so much about you, Henry. I'm Ruby, one of Emma's oldest friends," she said.

"Indeed she is." Emma laughed. "And that lovely lady bringing us cocoa is Ruby's wife, Belle."

"Everything smells so good," he said. Wonder lit his face, and his eyes were wide as he took in his surroundings.

She smiled at him. "I don't think you'll be disappointed."

They chatted while they ate their food, Ruby and Belle joining them as they could. Henry agreed that the grilled cheese was excellent, but that he needed more samples for comparison's sake.

They were walking back into Emma's apartment when Henry asked her, "So where's Killian? You haven't said anything about him the whole time I've been here., He seemed cool, and you seemed like you liked each other. My mom even said you went to a meeting for him or something."

Emma stared down at him, bemused. "Did she now?"

"Yup. And no avoiding the question."

"Jeez, some people are determined."

He just looked up at her expectantly.

"Okay, fine. Um, yeah. We're not seeing each other anymore. No hard feelings, it just didn't work out," she said. And she meant it. Ever since she'd received the bouquet from him and replied, they'd resumed a tentative friendship. He sent her jokes he thought she’d find funny or the occasional small bouquet. She'd replied with thanks and funny stories of her own, and she knew her anger was gone a few days before, when she'd been walking to work. She had passed a little antique shop she'd walked past a million times before, but this time, she saw an old ship in a bottle in the window.

It had immediately made her think of Killian. She'd gone in and bought it without a second thought. Emma still hadn't given it to him, and she wasn't sure when she would, but she knew it meant the worst of her anger was over. She wasn't ready to get back together or to throw herself into his arms or anything like tha, but she wanted him back in her life.

Shaking her head, Emma pulled herself out of her reminiscing. "So… yeah. He's great. And I think we're friends again, maybe, but that's it."

Henry look at her dubiously, clearly doubting her protestations.

She shrugged. "That's just how it goes sometimes, kid."

She couldn't shake the feeling that she might have protested too much, especially when she heard Henry mutter, "Adults are a mess, ugh."

&&&

The rest of Henry's visit passed peacefully, the two of them enjoying their final day together reading comics, watching movies, and playing video games. Emma and Regina had managed a cordial discussion and farewell at the end as they made tentative plans for another weekend in a few weeks.

She was pulling the sheets from the couch where Henry had slept, considering how she needed to invest in a sofa bed if he was going to keep staying with her when she heard her phone buzzing with an incoming text message.

Killian: I heard through the grapevine that Henry was there this weekend. Hope it went well!

Emma smiled down at her screen.

Emma: Wow, it's almost like I told you about this weekend in my last email. :P But yeah, it did. I even got him to agree that grilled cheese from Granny's is awesome, although he has the nerve to say he needs to try others to be sure it's the best

The three dots appeared immediately, and she awaited his quick reply

Killian: He's clearly as feisty as his mother, haha

Emma: Which one lol

Killian: Both! Regina scares me a little, but I can't deny she's audacious and ambitious. And I have every confidence in your pursuit of the best grilled cheese

Emma: I always do get my sandwich

The conversation dwindled at that point, but Emma wasn't entirely surprised when a "surprise" delivery person appeared at her door the next day.

But instead of the flowers she was half expecting, it was a box. The person making the delivery just shrugged as she looked at them inquisitively.

She took it inside and opened it, reaching for the sheaf of papers inside the neatly presented box. And then she laughed, full-on belly-laughed. It was a subscription to a grilled cheese box--or at least, vouchers for grilled cheese at some of the places around town that were known for offering good, cheesy sandwiches.

Once she was done laughing, Emma didn't hesitate in taking out her phone and dialing Killian's number. "Hey, thanks for the grilled cheese," she said as soon as he picked up.

He laughed. "You're welcome, lass. I saw it and I couldn't help myself. I figured you and Henry could get some cheesy enjoyment out of it."

"And if Henry can't make it, you could come, if you'd like," she suggested, chewing on her lip, hoping he couldn't hear the complete uncertainty in her voice.

He paused. "What are you suggesting, Emma?"

"I...I think I want to be friends again."

"Truly?" He sounded so eager, and it tugged at her heartstrings.

"Yep. Do--do you want to come over and talk about it?"

Killian replied almost before she was done asking, "Absolutely. I'll be over soon. If you meant today, that is."

"Red rover, red rover, send Killian on over," she said, smiling even as the butterflies danced in her stomach.

&&&

It was an hour later when she let Killian in, and Emma muffled her laugh at how puppy-like he was in his earnestness.

“Hi, Swan. I didn’t bring anything. Should I have brought wine? I wanted to get over here as quickly as I could,” he said, eyes shining with hope, even as his ears were tinged in red.

Emma let out the laugh. “Okay, calm down, Jones. Just come sit on the couch with me.” She patted that cushion, and he sat next to her.

They sat in silence until he grew serious. “So…”

She nodded at him. “Yeah…”

“One of us should probably begin,” he said with the smallest quirk of his lip.

Biting her lower lip, she agreed. “And I think you should. I--I need a moment.”

“I don’t think I can apologize enough. For going behind your back, and lying about it,” Killian said hurriedly. The earnest look had returned, but there was something new with it--contrition.

“It’s just--I...I told you everything. You know it all, and you still lied to me.” Emma was getting incredibly annoyed at her newfound tendency to get choked up, and here she was, getting choked up again.

“I know,” he said, hanging his head.

She twisted her hands, looking down at her lap, and said, “I can’t do that again, you know?”

“And I can’t blame you for that.” He turned his gaze away from her and his shoulders slumped.

“But here’s the thing, I want to. I want to try. I miss talking to you, I miss being with you. And I want you,” Emma said, taking a deep, fortifying breath.

That hopeful look from earlier returned, even when he replied, “I’m sensing a ‘but’ in there, lass.”

Emma hesitated. “I’m really having a hard time with you lying to me and hiding things when I was vulnerable. You knew about Henry, you knew about prison, and you even fucking knew about Neal.”

“I told you about Milah and about the Navy.” He wasn’t quite defensive--no, it was more like he was pleading with her.

“But you neglected the part where you were keeping tabs on me, and where August was basically blackmailing you with your visa. I mean, Jesus, Killian.” She shrugged, shaking her head in disbelief.

Killian buried his face in his hands for a moment before reaching over and seeking to entwine their fingers. “I--well, like I said, I have no excuse. I--Is there any way we can move past this, though? Or, perhaps, through it?”

She acknowledged his question, tinged as it was with desperation, with a serious nod. “I mean, I think we can try, as friends? I’m willing to. Just...promise me, no more lies.”

“As friends? So we’re not together again? For lack of a better phrase. Or is it just professional?”

“Can we…take it slow? And figure it out as we go?” Her voice was tremulous, indecisive.

He bit his lip, looking conflicted. “Part of why I did what I did was that I didn’t want to get hurt again. And I still don’t much like the idea. It just seems to me that not doing a good job of figuring out what we are could lead to more miscommunication and pain, rather than less. And I don’t want that for either of us, Emma.”

“I care about you. A lot. But so much is going on right now, and I’m trying to figure out how my life works again,” she said, wincing at her inability to offer him reassurance.

“I think I can do that.” To his credit, he only sounded the tiniest bit sad. His mouth was turned down, and she could see pain in his eyes, but he tried to smile.

Emma threw herself into his arms, embracing him tightly. After a moment, she pulled back, chagrin clear on her face. Wincing again at the mixed signals she was sending, she asked, “Is this okay?”

“It only wouldn’t be okay if you didn’t do that,” he said, finally laughing a little.

She laughed. “That didn’t even make sense.”

“I know,” he said, still smiling.

&&&

Before she knew it, Henry was back for his second weekend visit. This time they had a chance to do some of the sight-seeing they hadn’t been able to the previous time. They even made it out to Cambridge for a visit to the Harvard Museum of Natural History, as per Henry’s request.

Henry was a smart kid, and he immediately picked up on the frequency with which she received incoming texts, and he was wily enough to peer over her arm and see that most of them were from Killian.

He shot her a more knowing look than any eleven year-old had a right to. “So you and Killian are friends again?”

She blushed and ducked her head, trying to hide her smile. “Uh, yeah, something like that.”

“Are you all back together?!” He was all but bouncing on his feet, eyes wide as he looked up at her.

“Not really. But he’s around again, and we spend time together,” she tried to explain.

And it was true, after a fashion. Emma and Killian were texting back and forth non-stop, and they’d managed two coffee non-dates. They’d talked about her novel and helped iron out some of the issues she was having with it, but they’d also debated the merits of the latest movies they had seen and which of them had found the cuter picture of cats and dogs cuddling with each other. Emma finally felt like her friendship with Killian was back on solid ground, and that they were potentially building the foundation for something more. She didn’t want to jinx it, but she felt like maybe after this they could last.

But she wasn’t ready to confide all of that to her preteen son. So she tried to change the subject back to him.

“So, about that math class of yours, Regina mentioned you’ve been having some trouble?”

He snorted. “It’s fine. I’m doing better, now that I have a tutor.”

“Well, that’s good,” she said with a smile. Remembering one of the issues he’d had a few months before, she asked more seriously, “What about that feeling you had about someone watching you a few months ago? Anything come of that?”

Henry screwed up his mouth, a line appearing between his brows. “Not really. Sometimes I still think… but no.”

“You’d tell me if you were in trouble, right?”

He let out a loud, aggrieved sigh. “Of course. I’d tell you and I’d tell Regina.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

&&&

After a stellar visit, Emma drove Henry back up to Storybrooke. Their next visit would be able to be a little longer, with Henry having a break from school coming up. She dropped him off at Regina’s, and decided to head out as soon as she could, even though Henry expressed some interest in bringing her to the comic book shop. She begged off, having gotten very little sleep the night before between late night chats with Henry and texts from a certain British someone. Henry was disappointed, but said he understood. Especially when he started grinning when she mentioned the texts from Killian.

The drive back was long, lengthened slightly by the nap Emma took at one of the rest stops along the way. All in all, though, she felt happy. At peace. It had been a good weekend, and it felt like things were finally going her way.

She was nearing Boston when her phone rang. She normally would just wait and deal with it when she got home, but she raised her eyebrows when she saw Regina’s name on the caller ID.

“Hey, Regina--”

The other woman’s panicked voice cut her off. “Where the hell is Henry? He’s been gone since about fifteen minutes after you left!”

#cs ff #captain swan #csbb #cs au #cs mc ff #one of the things henry says is big mood #part of the narrative #amber writes

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thorkidumpster · 7 years ago

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soooooooooo @raven-brings-light mentioned she liked fake relationship au! so i got excited and wanted to show you what i’m working on :D it’s your basic ‘thor lies to his parents about having a relationship to get out of family stuff and now it’s biting him in the ass’. it’s... gotten so long and still not even a quarter done. rip. nothing fancy, but here we gooooo

“Birthday party?” Loki scoffs, not even bothering to lower his voice in the crowded coffee shop. “Why would I want to go celebrate another year of that mouth-breathing, jackass jock who has a constant case of public indecency?”

“Because you jerk it to him every night,” Amora points out. “And follow him everywhere. And you like his tight shirts. Mm... I like those tight shirts.”

“You're gross,” he informs her, despite the frustrating fact she is completely correct. Loki maybe—sometimes—occasionally trailed Thor to the quad. Or the track. Or the gym...

Especially the gym. There is nothing like a good hate work out, staring as Thor lifted weights until his stupidly perfect muscles glisten with sweat that Loki kind of wanted to lick. Just a little. Right down to that abnormal sized bulge that had to be a sock stuffed into his shorts because there was just no way—

Amora stirs her drink. “Earth to Loki.”

“I wasn't thinking about Thor,” Loki says automatically.

“Of course you weren't.” She gives him an annoyingly smug smirk. “So. Party? Probably going to be a rager.”

Loki taps his fingers on the table. “And watch him fuck the entire volleyball team? No, thank you.”

Amora just smiles.

[read more cut here, mobile users]

– – –

Loki went.

No surprises there when his batshit crazy best friend from hell showed up at his dorm, kicked out his roommate, and cast some sort of spell to get him dressed. And by “spell”, Loki means, “screamed like a fucking banshee about letting opportunity slip from his fingers”.

So really, he put on his clothes out of self preservation.

And because she threatened to lock him outside in his boxers.

Pay back is going to be a bitch.

Loki pulls up outside Thor's house an hour after the party started—best time to arrive, when everyone's well on their way to drunk and the awkward introductions are out of the way. Late enough that the birthday boy's going to have his eyes on some pussy, early enough that he hasn't gotten into it yet.

But Loki doesn't get out of his car immediately. The driveway's fairly empty, with only two (now three) cars slotted into the four car space. The lights are on, but not strobing and not in every room. And most damning of all—the house was quiet. No music, no shouting, no one throwing up on the lawn.

Huh.

He knows he has the right address; not because he's creepy and certainly not because he might've—probably—maybe followed Thor home once by accident.

Anyway.

Clearly, Amora had gotten bad information.

Loki jabs his keys back into the ignition, but before he can crank up the engine, the front door opens and a nicely dressed woman steps out. “Excuse me!” she calls and Loki's heart stops. Great. Just fucking great. He's going to get reamed for pulling up to Mrs. Rich Lady's driveway. Excuses pop up, and in a split second, he settles on acting like a stupid out-of-towner. Oh, where's the Walmart? Har har har...

Goddammit.

The woman is breathless by the time she toddles down the insanely long walk up, not to even mention her heels, Jesus. What is it with old women and heels?

“Excuse me!” She says again and Loki obediently rolls down the window.

“I'm sorry, I—”

“Please don't be shy,” the woman laughs. “Come on out, I know who you are.”

When he freezes, she gives him a 'disappointed mom' look. Her eyes are astoundingly blue, clear and bright despite the fine wrinkles cradling them. Like a bolt, Loki realizes this is Thor's mother, which, really, it should have been obvious but Loki blames Amora for not recognizing her. Not that it's Amora's fault, per se, but Loki just likes kicking shit over to her.

Wincing, Loki steps out of his car. “You do?” he hedges, sure he's going to get a lecture in stalking. Possibly a lawsuit. Wouldn't be the first time—

Any-fucking-way.

“Of course! You're Thor's little boyfriend, aren't you? He keeps bringing you up—every time he wants to get out of something, don't think I haven't noticed date nights cropping up conveniently over family dinners.”

“Um.” Loki falters. “...sorry?”

“I'm Frigga,” she says, matter of fact. “Not that I know your name, mind. Thor was very insistent. He seems to be laboring under the impression that I would contact my old team to do a background check on you.” Frigga pauses, then smiles blindingly. “He's right, of course. So. Name, please.”

Loki's mouth falls open. His name tumbles out before he can think to give her another, like Luke or Lucas, and really, that is a betrayal of the highest order. His dad once said that he should sew up his mouth to keep it from getting him into trouble and right now, Loki's apt to agree.

“Loki... Lafton? Hm.” Frigga gives him a considering look. “Well, come on in, dear. You're a little late, of course, but I kept the boys out of the food until you arrived. It's only polite...”

Stupefied, Loki follows her up the walk way to the massive house. The lawn is manicured to the point of being anal, and there are strategically placed flowering bushes along the outside walls in even rows. It's... weird. Loki thinks back to his family manor and shudders.

Well, at least if he manages to fuck this up, his dad could get him out of the hot water. What good was having a lawyer for a father if he couldn't?

At the very least, he's got an evening of free food and acting ahead of him. Loki slips into the role of 'dutiful son' like a worn pair of jeans.

The foyer is gorgeous, of course, and tastefully decorated; his own mother would be seething in jealousy, no doubt—ah, no, there's a scuff mark on the floor moulding. That little imperfection would have Farbauti crowing for days.

And everyone's so surprised when they find out how much of a bitch Loki can be. Really.

“Thor!” Frigga calls as they enter the sitting room. “Your boyfriend is here!”

It's beautiful. Truly. All the stars and sunrises and baby-fucking-animals couldn't compare to the look of horror on Thor's perfect face. “My what?”

“Loki, go on and sit down, I'll get the dinner served.”

Thor stares at Loki, mouth open. “Loki?”

Loki gives him a sugary smile. “Of course, sweetheart. Wow, that smells amazing, ma'am.” Smooth as a snake, Loki slides onto the couch next the Thor, making sure their thighs are pressed together, despite there being a good meter of space left to stretch out.

Thor can't seem to figure out how to work his mouth—words are beyond him, but, Loki notes with pleasure, his eyes are certainly taking in their fill. Thank god Loki had decided to 'dress up' for the jockstrap party, as a way of standing out and pissing everyone off.

With a wink, Loki rolls up the sleeves to his tidy blazer. He turns his attention to the gruff man across from them, glaring at Loki with a single, mistrustful eye. “And you must be his father.” Loki offers a hand.

The man grabs it, squeezes hard in a dominance display, but Loki just returns it until Thor's father pulls back. “Odin,” the man says. “And yes. Who are you again?”

Loki is about to give a lazy reply when Thor's brain reboots and he kicks online. “Loki,” Thor interjects. “My boyfriend. We met at school.”

“Hmph.” Odin looks about as happy at that as someone that was told they needed to clean out a pipe clogged with shit barehanded. “And what does he study?” he demands.

Demands to Thor, of course, when he could've easily directed the question to Loki. Idly, Loki wonders if the old man is upset at Thor for dating boys, or if it's something about him in particular that's rising the hackles.

“Not law, like his father, clearly,” Odin continues.

Loki's brows shoot up; Thor just looks away... embarrassed?

Odin is clearly riling himself up to say more when Frigga clatters in. “Boys! Dinner!” she calls, merry as a bluebird. Odin hefts himself out of his armchair, a once fit man gone very much to seed. But just as Loki starts to rise, Thor snatches him by the elbow and stands, too.

Thor, so close, looms in a way that makes Loki's gay little heart flutter. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he hisses. In the dining room, Frigga is chattering to Odin about the food and his heart.

Loki leans in close, close enough to feel Thor's breath on his lips. Thor jerks, but doesn't move away—which is good; it'll just look like they're sharing a private moment if Frigga pops back in. Which they are, in a way.

Just not the way she'll think.

“Believe it or not,” Loki says silkily, “I was every bit surprised by this as you were. I was lead to believe there would be a party here; your mom cornered me before I could pull out of the drive.”

From this angle, Loki can't see Thor's face, but he can tell Thor's trying to modulate his breathing, fist getting tight on his elbow. Getting upset, is he? Cute.

“Of course,” Loki continues. “I could leave now. No... I could stage a fight. Would you like that, big boy?” Their lips are centimeters apart. Christ—his dick is pounding, his blood thrums in his veins, and Loki is living.

“No,” Thor grunts. He's so fucking big; that grip is really starting to hurt in the best of ways. “We'll figure this out later. For now, you'll stay. You'll play nice.”

“That costs extra.”

There's the sharp crack of Frigga's heels, then Thor's kissing him, searing, as if to force the promise from Loki's lips. “Boys—oh!”

Thor steps back, giving Loki a predatory smirk that leaves him a little weak in the knees. Or maybe that was the porno kiss. Or both. “Sorry, mom.”

“Now, now,” she chides. “It's time for dinner. Come along now, you two.”

If Thor has to actually support Loki with a hand on his lower back, pressing to get him to move, it's not Loki's fault. It's Thor's. Fuck him.

#thorki #thor #loki #my writing #fic preview #tbc #eventually lmao

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