#the maturing in question is not dying my hair and being lazy with my clothing choices (just jeans and a t-shirt) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nalu4emily · 4 years

Text

The Blood You Bleed

‘Her mind drifted back to Natsu. She desperately wished she had been more honest with him, had told him why she had been feeling so awful recently, why she declined his job offer in the first place.' - This story contains subjects that people may find upsetting. Nalu.

Contains Trigger Warnings!

She couldn’t find the strength to stand. She had used every last ounce of her magic power and now she could barely move. She felt helpless, one more blow and that would be it. She was on her knees, hunched over gasping for air. She could feel the dirt and grit embedding itself into the hand holding her up. Her exhausted body was covered in fresh cuts and bruises.

The mage that she had gone up against was proving more formidable than she had first thought. Her free hand was clutching at her stomach that had been causing her some discomfort. What was she going to do? She was at a loss; she was in so much pain and just the thought of going any further was making her feel physically sick. The defeated blonde could only hope that Natsu wasn’t having as much trouble as she was and would soon show his face.

It was early that morning Natsu had approached Lucy about the job request, as flattered as she was, had been quick to decline his offer at first. The young blonde hadn’t been feeling well for a little while now, stomach cramps and headaches, nausea and vomiting. The poor girl was sure that fighting a group of wizards was not going to solve her ailments. But after seeing the deflated look on Natsu’s face and Happy’s relentless taunting about her being too lazy, she decided to tag along. What’s the worst that could happen? She’d have been lying if she said she wasn’t excited about going on a mission with just Natsu and Happy, like old times.

But she couldn’t shake the uneasiness she had felt in her stomach, was this her being irresponsible? Should she be going on such a mission in her state? Probably not, but she also didn’t want to pass up on some quality alone time with her partner – and Happy of course!

It had been a recent development, but, Lucy had finally come to accept the change in her and Natsu’s relationship. They had made massive steps and finally crossed the line from friends to something more. Not that there had ever been a moment where she or Natsu had confessed their love for one another, because they hadn’t. They hadn’t even spoken about it between themselves, it simply happened.

The pair had always been close, but now they had become even closer, intimate even. She had noticed that Natsu had been unwilling to leave her side, whether that be out on missions, at the guild or even in her own apartment. He had become so overprotective and wanted to be with her even more than before.

He didn’t make a point of it in front of others, but he would make sure she knew of his presence, through subtle touches or hand holding. Even how he spoke to her had changed, the way he said her name gave her goose bumps all over her skin. Oh, and that smile. That mesmerising grin, the one that would slowly turn into a knowing smirk every time he caught her staring at him.

And yet, she couldn’t find herself to be angry at the constant bombardment, she relished in it. He had matured, there was no doubt about that. She was so grateful to have him in her life and that’s why she couldn’t find it in herself to truly refuse an offer of just the three of them on a mission.

Not long after arriving at the little village that had posted the mission, Natsu, Lucy and Happy had been ambushed by a group of mages whilst searching for an Inn to stay at. Lucy had recognised them from the job advert they had just accepted. It seemed like a simple job, stop some delinquent mages from terrorising the locals. They had been on countless missions that involved such a menial request. Usually chosen by Natsu to test his strength, however, they never lived up to much. Against the dragon slayer, none of them ever stood a chance.

There were three of them, they had come out of nowhere. Natsu and Lucy had agreed to split up and take on one each, while Happy stayed out of the way, then reconvene when done, and take down the strongest looking one together.

Natsu had managed to defeat one of the mages by himself, without even breaking a sweat. With slight disappointment of how easy the mage had gone down and his typical cockiness brimming out of him, they agreed to change up the plan. Natsu was eager to take down the strongest looking one of the remaining two, dying for a decent fight. Lucy had looked warily at Natsu, unsure of his decision. But to put her at ease, in true Natsu style, he’d given her the biggest shit-eating grin and Lucy decided not to argue. She simply rolled her eyes and chuckled at his playfulness. They split up, ready to end this quickly, get paid and relax for a little while.

Now, on the battlefield, with barely any energy to hold herself up, she was starting to rethink her decision. Maybe she should have waited a few days until she had felt better, more normal. She sighed, really though, who was she kidding? Lucy knew that it was unlikely that she would be feeling better any time soon and if Natsu had found out what was going on, who knows how he would have reacted.

Oh god, if Natsu had found out… If only she hadn’t been such a coward.

But it was too late to dwell on such things now. Here she was, wounded, desperate and in need of rescuing. Pride thoroughly shattered, and yet, she just couldn’t bring herself to care. She just hoped that Natsu was alright, that maybe he would be able to smell her despair? If that were possible…

The opposing mage had made his way over to the fearful spirit wielder and stood before her. He was clad in a black cloak that covered the clothes he wore underneath. It was worn and tattered from the fighting, but still managed to make him look intimidating.

As Lucy looked up at him, grimacing from the sharp pain she felt from moving. She was stunned into silence when looking upon his face. Pure hatred was swirling menacingly in his eyes. He was going to kill. The blonde suddenly felt herself tremble uncontrollably under his gaze. She didn’t want to die, she still had so much she wanted to do, so much to live for.

Her mind drifted back to Natsu. She desperately wished she had been more honest with him, had told him why she had been feeling so awful recently, why she declined his job offer in the first place. The dragon slayer had thought initially it was because she didn’t want to go with him, that he had done something to upset her, but that was so far from the truth.

His distraught face when she turned him down kept plaguing her mind. She felt ashamed of herself for being too scared of the repercussions to tell him the reality of the situation, too worried to face up to the fear of him not accepting what would be a life changing event for the both of them. And now, there was a chance she would never see him again. He had a right to know the truth, it involved him as much as it did her, it was a part of him too.

The dark mage lifted his fist and concentrated his magic into it and snarled at her, “You’ll pay for ever trying to challenge me! Your friend would have put up a better fight than whatever pathetic excuse of wizard you are!” and aimed it towards her head.

Lucy could feel the tears spilling down her aching cheeks, her body quaked in fear, panic settled in her chest and she did the only thing she could. At the top of her breathless lungs, she cried, “NATSU!” for as long as her dry, raw throat would allow. Closing her eyes to shield them from the blinding light of the magic beam that would soon connect with her head. She heard a thunderous bang and then nothing. Complete silence.

After what seemed an age, she grudgingly opened her eyes, she could barely see. Her head was throbbing, hardly able to think. Her body felt foreign, like it didn’t belong to her and her ears were whistling. As she tried to focus on what was in front of her she noticed the mage she was fighting was nowhere to be seen.

She could make out a dark figure kneeling beside her, but she was struggling to concentrate. Lucy opened and closed her eyes to try and clear them, she squinted until she recognised that the dark figure had pink spiky hair and pure relief washed over her.

She couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, but she could hear his voice, she could see the outline of his mouth moving. “Lucy? Lucy, please can you hear me? I need you to wake up. Come on Luce, answer me!” He sounded frantic, had something gone wrong? Where was the other mage? Had something happened to Natsu? And with that worrying thought Lucy jolted her herself upright; rippling pain oozed through her very being.

With a loud groan from her lips, she turned her head slightly towards Natsu. He had such a panicked expression on his face. His hair had fallen into his eyes, but still wild as ever, his clothes were torn, and his exposed skin was also covered in small cuts and bruises. Although not nearly as much as her, it looked like he’d had a hard time too.

“Natsu…? What happened? I don’t remember you being here” She whispered, observing his facial expression. Natsu, with a look of relief, tilted his head curiously at her question, as if the answer was obvious, “I heard you scream. I had just managed to take down the guy I was fighting, so I followed my nose to find you.” He paused to take a breath and look around him to make sure they were alone, remaining on guard, “I saw that bastard about to strike you so I ran as fast as I could to get you out of the way.” With a slight smirk, he continued, “I managed to negate his attack, but it caused a massive explosion and destroyed everything around us. I held on to you, but we all went flying and ended up crashing into some nearby trees.” His face turned into a scowl, “Who knows where that asshole ended up?” He almost spat the last sentence. Lucy felt herself relax a little, thank god it’s over!

“You look pretty beat up Luce, can you move?” Natsu asked. As Lucy attempted to move her body froze, not because of how stiff she was, but right there, behind where Natsu was kneeling, she saw a blinding white light heading straight for them.

Without hesitation, she shoved Natsu out of the way, not giving him time to react before the light struck her straight in the stomach. It lifted her off the ground with tremendous force, and threw her back against some rubble from the earlier explosion. As her body connected with the rocks, she gave out an ear-piercing cry and clenched her stomach with her hands, stooped over slightly and panting, the air had been knocked right out of her. It was unbearable, her head wouldn’t stop spinning. She felt so nauseous, mind unable to concentrate on anything but the sheer agony pulsating through her body.

Natsu saw the entire thing unfold before him as he was forced to the ground. He saw the beam of light strike Lucy and just like that time with future Rogue, he was too slow to stop it. Shock turned to anger as it boiled beneath his skin. He snapped his head towards the now injured mage. The fire breather could only see red as he used his ‘Fire Dragon Roar’ to finally put an end to that piece of shit. He watched as the guy shouted out when the burning hot flames licked at his skin before falling to the floor. With the anger still bubbling, Natsu couldn’t bring himself to care whether the man had survived the attack or not, Lucy needed him. He could hear her strained sobs in the distance, and so he turned and bolted straight for her.

He caught sight of her distressed body and fell to his knees, eyes wide and mouth agape, he reached out for her, “Luce! Please talk to me, Lucy?” He was frantic, anguish evident in his voice, unsure of how to help her, but knew he had to do something.

She didn’t respond, her body unable. She retched, crying out as her insides felt like they were going to explode from the motion of leaning forwards. She dragged her legs up to her chest to try and ease the intense cramps coming from her lower stomach. Her desperate attempt was in vain, it hadn’t helped in the slightest.

Natsu held her in his arms and stroked her head and cheeks with his warm hands, trying to calm her, to comfort her in some way. Not knowing what else to do, he whispered reassuring words into her ear, telling her that she was going to be okay, that he was going to stay with her until the pain subsided and they could leave. He tried his best to remain calm for her sake, but on the inside, it felt like a volcano was about to erupt. Where was Wendy when you needed her?

Happy appeared out of nowhere and gasped at what he saw. Natsu turned and saw his little blue Exceed hovering in the air. In all the commotion, Natsu had forgotten that Happy had been hiding, too occupied with Lucy, it had all become a bit blurry.

Happy came over and sat beside Natsu, “Lucy, are you okay? I’ve been looking everywhere for you guys.” He started, voice quivering and full of worry, he put his paw on her thigh and looked up at his friend’s face, “Why is she in so much pain Natsu?” Natsu looked back at Lucy, who’s breathing had become heavy and laboured and her face was now covered in sweat. “She was struck by the mage she was fighting trying to protect me.” He said gravely, feeling that this had been his fault.

Lucy, without warning, let out another ear-splitting cry and started shuddering violently in Natsu’s arms. What the hell was going on? “Lucy, what’s wrong? Is it your stomach? Is that what’s hurting you?” He asked, frustrated with himself for being so useless. He did a quick scan of her body, trying to see if he could find the cause of her distress.

That’s when he saw it…blood. Blood everywhere pooling in between her legs. What the? Where had that come from? Shocked at what he was witnessing, but knew there was only one way to find out what was happening.

He sat her up gently against the rubble, “Hang on Luce. Happy sit with her, I need to check something.” He stated calmly, whilst moving himself down so he was facing her directly, her shaky, blood stained legs in front of him. His heart had started beating in his ears, anxious to what he might find. Blowing out a puff of smoke to try and steady himself, he slowly pulled up her skirt and ever so softly, opened her legs wide so that he could get a good look, gauging her reaction the entire time as not to hurt her further. She would have freaked in any other situation, but now was the time for maturity and this, he felt, was the only way he could know where the blood was coming from.

When he noticed her blood soaked under wear, he felt the air leave his lungs with such vigour, he almost fell backwards. “Oh, Lucy…” Was all he could muster as he tried to piece things together. She had said she hadn’t been feeling well recently, did that have something to do with this?

There were only a few conclusions he could come to as to why there was so much blood coming from that area. He looked at Happy, who had been trying to comfort Lucy by stroking her arms, and then back up at Lucy’s face, which was still covered in thick sweat and her bangs were sticking to her forehead. He did notice, however, that her breathing had calmed a little since the bleeding had slowed, and she had started to open her eyes.

When Lucy mustered the courage to finally look down at her legs and caught sight of the state she was in, her only reaction was to look straight into Natsu’s eyes and shriek in agony. Although this time it wasn’t just from the physical pain wracking her body, no, this was so much worse. This felt like her heart had been torn from her chest and shattered into millions of pieces. Happy stood back out of the way, unsure, as he watched Natsu quickly dart back up to her to hold her tight against him.

“Natsu…” She finally managed to wrangle out. “I’m so sorry” Her face was so red and blotchy and her voice hoarse, she just couldn’t stop sobbing. Natsu looked at her confused, what was she sorry about?

“It’s alright Luce, you don’t need to apologise for anything, but I do need you to explain what’s going on?” Amazed with how calm he sounded, even though he felt like he was about to burst. “I should have told you before, but I didn’t know how you would take it. I was in such shock myself; I just couldn’t believe it.” The beaten blonde wept. Now this caught him off guard, what could be so awful that he would react badly to it?

He had to know, with a reassuring nod and a small smile he stroked her head, silently encouraging her to carry on. “The baby Natsu, we were going to have a baby.” And that’s when the flood gates opened and didn’t stop, she grabbed hold of his jacket with both fists and wailed into it.

Everything suddenly stopped, with wide eyes he stared at her, breath caught in his throat. A baby? Lucy was carrying a baby. No…wait, that wasn’t right, she had said ‘we’. Lucy was carrying his baby. He couldn’t wrap his head around it; how did this happen? Obviously, he knew how it had happened, but why hadn’t she told him? He would never have asked her to come on a mission like this if he’d known. He would never have put her in such danger had he been aware that she was pregnant, with his child.

He realised that he had been silent for a bit too long and held Lucy close to his chest to try and comfort her. “Why didn’t you tell me Luce?” His voice breaking, barely able to get the words out, unsure if he really wanted to know the answer. She looked up from his jacket and deep into his worried eyes, “I-I was scared, afraid I’d have to go it alone.” Her words soft like a whisper but full of sadness and regret.

He put his forehead to hers and held her cheeks in his hands, he took a minute to collect his thoughts before responding, “Lucy, don’t ever think you would have had to do this on your own. I would have been there every step of the way; it takes two if I’m not mistaken. And that’s not just during the fun parts.” He smirked slightly, glad when he felt her nod against him with the beginnings of a smile on her swollen face, even if it was brief and full of hurt.

However, the situation suddenly dawned on him, he looked down at the blood puddled beneath her legs. Lucy was carrying his baby – past tense. He was currently staring at what could have been a brand-new life, a life that he and Lucy had created together during a night of passion and love. He pressed his free hand lightly onto her stomach and caressed it softly, their baby had been growing in there, safe and sound, not moments before.

An innocent life that had been taken from them so prematurely. He had not known about it just minutes ago and now it felt like his whole world had crashed around him. Tears sprung to his eyes and he did the only thing he felt he could. He brought Lucy’s puffy face up to his and pressed his lips urgently against hers. He kissed her with such raw emotion. He was desperate to convey every single drop of grief into it and was glad when Lucy responded and kissed him back with just as much intensity. He wanted to show her that she wasn’t alone in this. They had both suffered a loss and that they would slowly but surely, as always, get through it together.

I know this was quite dark, but I hope you enjoyed reading it!

#Nalu #nalu fanfiction #nalu fanfic #fairy tail nalu #nalu baby #fairy tail fanfiction #fanfiction #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #happy (fairy tail)#Natsu and Lucy

57 notes · View notes

let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Catch Me If You Can (24/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

a/n: I hope that absolutely everyone is having a fantastic Friday!

Thank you to @resident-of-storybrooke for being my beta and resident turkey expert 😘

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 |

Tag list: @stunningswan @eala-captian @galaxyzxstark @xellewoods @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury @superchocovian @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog@cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings

-/-

“Emma, what are you wearing tonight? Because I know that it’s August and blazing outside, but it’s also not as hot in LA right now as it is in New York, which makes no sense. I just can’t decide.”

Ariel has been rambling to Emma about what she’s going to wear tonight for the past ten minutes, and Killian has watched as Emma has simply responded in little grunts and one syllable words as she focuses on her phone. It’s not at all like Emma to not give someone her full attention, especially someone she likes and enjoys spending time with. But she’s been staring at her phone this entire time, bottom lip continually being tugged back into her mouth by her teeth, and he can’t quite figure out what’s going on in that head of hers.

“Sweetheart,” Eric sighs, rising from his chair in their hotel room to walk over to Ariel’s suitcase to pick up some of her loose clothing, “wear your green dress. I think Emma might be a little preoccupied with work. She does have a game to cover in a few hours, which kind of comes before dinner.”

“Huh?” Emma asks, looking up from her phone, eyes darting around the room, before she’s darkening the screen on her phone and placing it face down on the table. “What are we talking about?”

“Ariel wants to know what you’re wearing to dinner tonight, love,” Killian supplies, arching his brow and nodding over to Ariel. “You’ve been a bit distracted.”

“Oh, sorry, work. Um,” Emma stutters, adjusting her legs in her chair, “I have this, like, blue and white maxi dress that I think I’ll wear, probably with my white sneakers instead of heels because I know I’ll be exhausted after the game and heels are just too much.”

“So casual?” Ariel asks.

“Yeah, casual. That’s okay for the restaurant we’re going to, right?”

“Yeah, it is. Belle’s dad knows the owner because I swear to you that girl has all of the connections in the world, and he’s gotten us a private room so that you guys can come with us.”

“Remind me to thank Belle for that, Swan,” Killian says, reaching over to her and squeezing her forearm. “I rather like getting to go out to dinner with you.”

“Yeah,” Emma smiles, “me too.”

“You guys are so cute.”

“You guys are nauseating.”

The words come at the same time from Ariel and Eric. Ariel is staring at them like they’re both shiny pieces of gold and Eric is scrunching up his nose in disgust, and all Killian can do in reply is shrug his shoulders.

“You guys literally asked us to come in here,” Emma laughs, and he hears her phone buzz again even if she ignores it. “You’re not allowed to complain if we’re guests.”

“Technically, my wife asked you in here because she found out we had an adjoining room, and she has no sense of personal boundaries when it comes to Killian.”

Ariel slaps Eric, her lips parted in surprise. “That is not true.”

“Eh,” Killian sighs, scratching behind his ear, “itit kind of is.”

“Killian Jones, that is not true.”

“Last week you asked me to check to see if you’d managed to shave the back of your upper thigh.”

“That was important! I needed to know if I was walking around with a giant patch of hair.”

“A, it was covered by your dress. No one ever would have had to know.”

“But I knew.”

Killian huffs, falling back into his chair as his hand inches down Emma’s arm so that he can tangle their fingers together and squeeze all the while Eric is rubbing his hands up and down his face and Ariel has her hands on her hips starting him down.

Collectively, they are a mess.

Individually, they are also a mess, but that’s entirely beside the point.

“You guys are all really weird,” Emma finally chuckles, looking over at him with this smile that Killian is sure is the most beautiful smile in the world. “Wear the green dress, A. I’ve got to go get ready to go to work, which all of you probably need to be doing too.”

“We’ve got five hours until the game starts.”

“Yeah,” Emma sighs as she stands up, “and you guys still haven’t done workouts. I’m not interested in dating losers, so I need Killian to get his ass in gear.”

Killian barks out a laugh before reaching forward and slapping Emma’s ass, making her jump a little bit before she’s sauntering out of the room with a very pointed sway of her hips.

The minx.

-/-

Elizabeth Olsen.

Sweet Cheeks.

Batman and Robin.

Professor Jones.

All in all, they’re not the worst jersey names they’ve ever had for Player’s Weekend and all of the ridiculousness that comes with being able to pick the name that goes on the back of their black jerseys, but it’s also not the best. And Killian really doesn’t want to know why Eric chose Sweet Cheeks for his name. That could be entirely innocent, but he’s betting that it is most definitely not knowing he and Ariel.

Just…no. He’s not going there.

Will’s name is probably his favorite considering he almost did Scarlet Witch but decided to be a little more literal so that approximately seven people would understand the reference despite the popularity of the Marvel universe. Robin’s is pretty obvious, and, well, Killian is lazy and simply went with Will’s nickname for him.

None of them have future careers as comedians after this.

Not a one.

But that’s fine. They’ll let other people be funny, and even if he does need to start thinking about his future – as everyone else seems to be lately – today is not that day.

Today is the Saturday of Player’s Weekend, Eric just hit his two hundredth home run of his career, they’re all going out to dinner tonight, and all Killian wants to do is enjoy the day.

Good days should stay good days.

Even if Emma seems distracted and a tad bit distant.

It started when she was staring down at her phone this morning in the hotel room. She said it was work and went back to her normal self, but then when they got back to his hotel room and she started getting ready for work, she was distant again. Some mornings are like that. He gets it. He doesn’t always want to talk to someone or be talking to someone, so he let her be as she curled her hair before pulling it up in a ponytail and then got dressed in a pair of shorts that hug the muscles of her legs and her own customized jersey that Ariel got for her as some kind of further proof that she is part of their team now more than ever.

All it says is “Swan” on the back, but he thinks that’s enough. She deserves it.

But he’s not entirely sure what’s going on with her that has her all distracted, and he never got a chance to ask this morning before the team was taking the bus to the stadium and Emma was getting into a taxi to do the same. She’s five feet away from him in the dugout right now, but he definitely can’t ask. That would be giving away far too much to people who don’t know and can’t know.

Sometimes keeping all of this a secret is exhausting, but until Emma is ready to handle the unfortunate backlash that will come with others knowing, he’s more than good being a little exhausted for her happiness, especially since a lot of the struggle was because he was once an unintentional ass. They’ll keep it quiet as long as they can and then hopefully one day they’ll stop caring so much and simply go to dinner or a play or a jog in the park on a Saturday morning without caring who sees them together.

Emma’s the one who’s been through all of the sexist shit, though, even if he has had a not-so-great relationship with the press, and he’s all for waiting for Emma.

“Damn, it’s hot,” Will huffs as he steps down into the dugout after getting struck out. “I’m pretty sure I’m dying.”

“That sounds like an excuse, Scarlet.”

“Eh, eh eh,” Will scolds as he grabs a cup of water and pours it over his head, water droplets falling off the buzz cut, “today I am Elizabeth Olsen, the younger sister of the Olsen twins. What ever happened to them anyways?”

“I think they design clothes.”

“How do you know that?”

“I am very into fashion. Can’t you tell by how much effort I put into my outfits every day?”

“You don’t even own a Hawaiian shirt.”

“The fact that you think it’s fashionable to dress like a middle-aged tourist is highly questionable,” Killian laughs, reaching over to grab himself a cup of water. It is extremely hot today, and Killian can feel it over every inch of his bones. “Do you also wear your white socks halfway up your calves?”

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” Will flicks the water off of his head and knocks his knee into Killian’s before nodding over at Emma and Jeff as they look at something on Jeff’s camera. “What’s up with Emma today? She seems off.”

Killian’s eyes dart around the dugout, looking to see if anyone is paying any attention, but they’re not, each of them too preoccupied with the game.

“No idea, mate. I’m going to talk to her tonight.”

“Did you screw up somehow?”

“Why does it have to be something I did?”

Will shrugs, kicking his foot at the ground to knock some dirt out of his cleats. “Seven times out of ten, it is.”

“And yet you call me Professor Jones when you have statistics like that.”

“I’m a man of many talents.”

-/-

They win that afternoon.

-/-

“Killian, can you zip up the back of my dress?”

“I tend to like your dresses unzipped, but if the lady insists.”

He can’t see Emma’s face right now, but he knows that she’s rolling her eyes at him. Quickly, he finishes tying his shoes and stands from the edge of the bed to walk over to Emma and move her hair off of the back of her neck so that he can pull the zipper the rest of the way up to cover her back. She’s very obviously just sprayed perfume, the smell of vanilla invading his senses, and he takes a moment to breathe it in before pressing his lips against the back of Emma’s neck and lingering there while his hands find purchase at her hips, pulling her back to him.

“You smell amazing.”

“I bathed.”

Killian chuckles into her neck before kissing her there again and nuzzling his scruff into her skin. “How much time do we have before dinner?”

Emma laughs as her hands pat his over her stomach. “Not enough time to have sex if that’s where your mind is going.”

“Dirty, Swan. That’s not at all what I was thinking.”

“Liar.”

“I’m telling the truth.”

“Okay,” she sighs hesitantly, looking into the hotel room mirror in front of them so that she can actually see him as he can see her, “what do you want to do then?”

“Talk about why you’ve been in a weird mood all day.”

“I have not been in a weird mood all day.”

“Swan, everyone has noticed it.”

“Everyone is imagining things.”

He arches a brow, the disbelief clearly written all over his face. “You can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?”

Guilt immediately weighs down on his stomach at the sound of his own words. Here is he is telling Emma that she can tell him anything, practically goading information out of her, and he still hasn’t told her about his shoulder, about the full, ugly truth of his injury. It didn’t bother him today, not after Archie massaged it, and yet something is still tugging at him to tell her.

Maybe he wants to tell Emma that he’s been struggling with his arm, that he went through more surgeries than she knows, that his scars are more than the ones on his arm and his shoulder. Maybe he simply wants to let Emma know everything, but fears stay strong no matter how fearless he can sometimes be.

It’s the most idiotic thing, still not having the courage to share something with her, but how is he supposed to admit to actually being broken when she doesn’t think that about him?

Or maybe saying it out loud means that he’s fully admitting it to himself, and that might be the scariest part of it all.

When is he going to get over these fears?

But that doesn’t matter. None of it does right now. Something has been bothering Emma all day, and it’s likely a much bigger deal than his own demons fighting for dominance inside of his mind.

“I have some news,” Emma finally says as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth and raises both brows.

He’s got no clue where she’s going with this.

“Good news or bad news?”

“Good. I mean – ” Emma stops talking and moves out of his embrace, turning around so that she can look at him as she props herself up on the desk. “I think it’s good. I hope it is. It’s just not…it’s not officially confirmed or anything yet, so I didn’t want to say anything.”

Killian gulps, nodding his head along as his mind tries to figure out what exactly kind of news it is that she has. “Love, I’m all for telling me things when you’re ready, but now I feel like I really have to know.”

She chuckles, shrugging her shoulders and making herself smaller. “David, a month or so back, asked me if I wanted to try and be an official commentator for a game, you know? And obviously I said yes. That’s, like, one of the dreams, but I didn’t want to only get it because of David so I’ve been talking to executives and having all of these meetings, and I got an email this morning that they’re very tentatively going to let me work during the Rangers game on Labor Day.”

Holy shit, he thinks.

“Holy shit,” he says out loud too before taking the two steps forward and reaching down to place his arms under Emma’s ass so that he can pick her up in a hug, his excitement for her coursing through his veins and possibly being a little too exuberant. But then Emma’s wrapping her arms around his neck and her ankles around his hips, and there’s nothing else that matters except for how happy Emma is right now. “That’s fucking incredible, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Killian confirms, nodding his head up and down into her neck before pulling back only to press forward again to slam his lips into Emma’s in a messy, happy kiss that never has time to deepen because of the smiles on both of their lips but that is wonderful all the same. “You’re a badass. I hope you know that.”

Emma blushes out of what has to be a bit of shyness, something that is totally unlike her, and all he can do is smile in response and hitch her up a little higher in his embrace while her hands curl into his hair.

“I mean, I have David and I’ve been lucky and I – ”

“Hey, no,” he stops her, walking them over to the bed so that he can sit down since Emma is fully-grown woman and he did play a baseball game today, “don’t diminish your accomplishments because you’ve had a little help. I have too. And enough people try to take things away from you that you don’t need to do that as well. You are incredible, Emma. No protests.”

Her lips curl up at the sides before she leans forward to rest her forehead against his. “Are you just saying all of this to butter me up since you’ll be pitching in that game and want me to say good things about you?”

“Oh, absolutely, love. I fully expect you to talk about me as if I am the greatest baseball player of all time with the greatest ass. I want completely biased treatment.”

“I think that might give away our little secret.”

“Nah. It’ll just show that you have good taste.” Emma sighs against him, and Killian feels all of the guilt wash away from him. This is so incredible for her, and she deserves it. So much. “I am so proud of you, and I love you so much that it’s ridiculous.”

“I love you too, twenty-nine. I’ll try to slide in a very subtle comment about your ass.”

“That’s all I ask.”

There’s a banging knock on the door before suddenly it’s opening and Ariel is walking through the door with Eric right behind her.

“Oh my gosh, why have you guys not been answering my texts? I – oh,” she stops, and Emma buries her face in his shoulder while he rubs his hands up and down her back as some kind of comfort or apology for not remembering to lock the adjoining door between this room. “I didn’t mean to interrupt something. What exactly…what am I interrupting because that’s kind of any interesting position, and I – ”

“A, oh my God,” Killian groans, slowly moving Emma off of him so that she doesn’t flash Ariel and Eric, “you are ridiculous, and you’re not interrupting anything. We are both still fully clothed and ready to go to dinner.”

Ariel shrugs. “If you say so.”

Emma stands up from the bed and adjusts her dress, brushing all of the winkles out of it. “I just need to fix my makeup real quick, okay?”

“You might want to do that too, man,” Eric says as he points at Killian. “You’ve got a bit of red lipstick stuck in your beard, and I don’t think that’s your shade.”

They go to a Mediterranean restaurant in Pasadena, one that Ariel swears has both good food and a private atmosphere where no one will pay much attention to them – not that he thinks anyone in LA really cares about a bunch of baseball players from New York when half of the people in New York don’t care about them – and to her word, as soon as they get there, they’re shuffled into a back room. It’s a bit much, definitely more precaution than anything, but he’s thankful for it anyways as he pulls out Emma’s chair and she settles down next to him with a smile on her face as she and Belle start talking about books that he knows for a fact that Emma hasn’t gotten to read yet since they’re sitting on her bedside table.

Emma has three categories of books placed around the apartment.

(1)On her bedside table that means she’s started but hasn’t come anywhere close to finishing.

(2)On the bookshelf in the hallway between she and Ruby and Graham’s rooms. Those books have been read but are never going to be reread and are collecting dust.

(3)On the coffee table in the living room. Whatever is there is at the top of Emma’s list, and he knows that if he picks it up, he can see folded pages and little marks from where she’s been devouring them.

Every single book Belle is talking about is on that fated bedside table, probably won’t be read until sometime in December when Emma has off from work, but Emma seems just fine chatting away about them with Belle like she has actually read all of them. But then again, Emma and Belle apparently text pretty often, so he’s not surprised that they get along well. Hell, Emma gets along with everyone in his life, even if it’s a little bumpy, and he couldn’t ask for more on that front.

On any front.

Damn. He’s gotten entirely too sentimental today.

“Are any of you actually going to eat an actual meal tonight?” Belle questions as they’ve all ordered their drinks. “Or is this going to be one of those nights where you guys all get grilled chicken and salad?”

“What is wrong with grilled chicken and salad, babe?”

“Nothing. But we didn’t have to go out to eat for that. I could be wearing sweatpants in the hotel.”

“A woman after my own heart,” Emma sighs, picking up the glass of water in front of her and taking a sip. “I feel like the fact that they’re on stricter diets now is good for them and for me, you know? But I also just end up eating all of the bread that Killian doesn’t eat.”

“And I thought that was just me.” Ariel picks up a roll from the middle of the table as she says this, and Killian has to stifle his chuckle. “But Will eats worse than any of them, so I imagine there’s not a lot of leftover bread to begin with.”

“Oi, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you eat like you’re a teenager,” Robin answers. “Or my six-year-old son. But then again, sometimes I struggle to get him to eat any food if it’s not in the shape of a Disney character or some kind of chicken.”

“I’m guessing not the grilled chicken you all eat.” “Actually, yes. It’s very popular in his book right now. I think it’s been in nearly every packed lunch he’s had for the past two weeks.”

“I think I’m going to have one of the pizzas,” Killian interrupts, knowing that Robin is about to go into an extremely detailed explanation of Roland’s eating habits. “Or maybe pasta. Possibly the Moussaka. Swan, do you want to get some of the mozzarella balls?”

“Do I want to get something involving fried cheese? Do you even know me at all?”

Killian shrugs, squeezing Emma’s thigh from where his hand has been resting. “I mean, I feel like I’ve got a pretty good grasp on your cheese preferences.”

“Is that an innuendo?” Will asks.

“Scarlet,” Killian laughs, “how the hell would that be an innuendo?”

“Well, you know, with the – ”

“Nope,” Ariel interrupts while raising her arm in the air. “Nope. I am about to have a cocktail and a hell of a lot of pasta, and I am not hearing some kind of weird cheese innuendo that is going to ruin cheese for me forever.”

“But I – ”

“No, Will,” Ariel continues, and Killian can see everyone hiding the smiles on their faces, “don’t even bother. You can talk about all of your cheese innuendos on your wedding day because that is your day and you get a free pass.”

“Well, gee, Ariel, that’s so nice of you to give me a free pass on my wedding day.”

“Yeah, I think I’m going to veto that too. I’m the one who actually sleeps with you, and I don’t want to hear anything cheese related.” Belle shakes her head in disgust, her eyes rolling with the movement. “but speaking of the wedding, I need all of your guys to go have your tuxes fitted at some point since we’re buying them instead of renting them. I know we still have a lot of time until then, but I just know that it’s going to fall by the wayside since we’ll be smack dab in the middle of baseball mating season.”

“I think Belle is calling us unreliable, you guys,” Eric says.

“Yeah, that’s definitely the vibe I was getting,” Killian agrees. “She also basically implied that we’d be fucking like bunnies the moment the season ends and not be able to leave our homes.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind that,” Emma laughs, and Killian nearly chokes on air with his laugh.

“Does Roland also need to do this?” Robin asks, completely messing up their conversation? “The tux fitting, I mean.”

“Yep,” Belle answers. “His tux is going to match yours because he’s going to be the absolute cutest ring bearer in the world, even if we aren’t giving him the actual rings.”

“Honestly, good plan. People should not give rings to children, even if supervised. That’s a disaster waiting to happen. Roland can’t even get his homework from the kitchen table to his backpack some days.”

“Where’s the wedding again?” Emma asks, twisting her chair put still placing her hand over his on her lap.

“Pier Sixty in Chelsea. It’s – ”

“Oh, I know,” Emma laughs, and he’s reminded of just how beautiful she is when she laughs. And of how proud he is of her too. And that he should probably officially ask her to be his date for this wedding so that she’s not walking around thinking that she’s not going to be a part of it. “I live in Chelsea. I know all about it. That’s a gorgeous place. The view of the Hudson is incredible from in there.”

“When have you been there, love?”

“Work Christmas thing when I was an intern. Mary Margaret stayed home with Leo, and I got to be David’s plus one, which was really nice if not a bit overwhelming because I definitely had far too many glasses of wine for someone who wasn’t technically supposed to be drinking yet.”

“Scandalous.”

“I try.”

This starts an entire conversation about the wedding, from the food they’re serving to if they’re having a band of DJ. Eric makes the suggestion that they serve hot dogs and soft pretzels like they’re at a baseball game since everything in their lives seems to revolve around baseball, and the glare that Belle shoots him is so sharp that it could cut into the salmon that Killian orders. Honestly, though, finger foods like that are not a horrible idea since he’s never been one for stuff atmospheres with dry chicken or steak cooked in a way that he dislikes, and Killian almost makes a mental note to file something like that away before he realizes that filing information away for a wedding would mean that he is mentally planning his own wedding.

That’s too much for tonight.

But Belle and Will are going with authentic French food because of Belle’s father and her family in France that she gets to visit once or twice a year, and they are having a band. There are also a million other things, ones that he’s having a hard time keeping track of, and despite how many people he knows, he hasn’t actually been to a wedding since Liam and Elsa got married at Elsa’s parents’ house with one hundred other people jammed inside so that there was barely room to breathe, let alone think about dancing or sitting down with a plate of food.

That was a nice day, though. His brother was absolutely beaming, something he always seems to do around Elsa, and all that mattered was that the two of them were together. That’s kind of always all that matters underneath the rented ballrooms and tailored outfits.

What in the world is he ever going to do with his tux after he wears it to this wedding? It’s probably going to sit in his closet and collect dust forever.

“How are we doing the bill tonight?” their waitress asks them after they’ve all eaten and laughed until their stomachs hurt. “Separate? Together? By pairs?”

“Separate,” Ariel tells her. “I go with – ”

“Just put it all on one bill,” Killian interrupts, pulling his card out of his wallet only for everyone to start to protest. “Nope. This is my treat. Honestly, do not try to argue with me. I’m paying for it.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Belle sighs.

“Hush,” Will hisses, and Killian hears Emma laugh next to him. “If Professor Jones wants to pay, let him pay.”

“Thank you, Elizabeth Olsen.”

Will rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t protest. That’s who he is for every game this weekend anyways.

Everyone else gets up to go outside to where their Ubers are going to pick them up while he and Emma wait inside for the bill, Emma still sipping on her drink even though there’s only the slightest bit left in the glass. Quickly, though, he’s signing the check and the two of them are walking through the back entrance of the restaurant so that they don’t have to go through all of the other people.

“So, speaking of getting married,” he starts.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Emma laughs, looking up at him with raised brows and pursed lips.

“Calm down, Swan,” Killian sighs, shaking his head from side to side. “I’m not proposing. I realize I had a poor choice of words there, but I count myself as more of a romantic than to propose by the kitchen of a Mediterranean restaurant.” He doesn’t say that they’re nowhere ready for that. It’s not needed. “I meant to ask you if you would be my date for Belle and Will’s wedding. I realize it should likely be implied, but I like you to know.”

“You planning on keeping me around that long? That’s all the way in December.”

“Of course. I’ve got to have someone to kiss on New Year’s so I don’t look like a loser at my brother’s house, so you’re going to last at least until then.”

“I mean, if you’re spending your New Year’s Eve at your brother’s house, you’re already a pretty big loser.”

Killian throws his head back and laughs before lifting his arm and wrapping it around Emma’s shoulder, tugging her closer to him so that he can brush his lips against her temple before pushing the back door open. “You’re a gem, my love.”

“I’m also apparently your arm candy.”

“Nah, you’d have to be sweet to be that.”

Emma slaps his stomach then, hard, but he doesn’t care as he continues to laugh while they walk to the curb of the sidewalk where their Uber should be any minute now. “You’re being an ass.”

“I’m your ass.”

“Now that’s just weird, twenty-nine.”

“But a good kind of weird.” He kisses her temple again, and Emma’s cheek presses into his shoulder. “Do you want to stop somewhere for dessert to celebrate your big almost promotion? I hate that we couldn’t really talk about it tonight since you didn’t want to say anything until it’s official.”

“It’s okay. We can celebrate when we get back to the hotel, if you know what I mean.”

“By getting that dessert.”

“Exactly,” Emma smiles up at him, pressing her hand against his chest.

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan

71 notes · View notes

unpeumacabre · 4 years

Text

my kingdom for a horse: chapter 5

the year is 1601, a messenger has been sent to dongnae, and he has not returned. lord cho-hak-ju advises the joseon king to send crown prince lee chang to dongnae to investigate, but the plot he unravels there threatens the safety of the entire kingdom, and the stability of the dynasty.

a rewriting of kingdom, and lee chang finds love.

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Lee Chang/Yeong-shin

Read on AO3 (bc tumblr might mess up the formatting + more extensive author’s notes on the story)

Count: 5k

<-- previous next -->

The people of Jecheon fall like wisps of paper before a firestorm. Lee Chang finds that for every monster hacked down by his blade, there are three more to take its place, and soon he feels his arms failing him and his hope fading fast. Beside him, Yeong-shin fights like a whirlwind unleashed; an unfailingly-fierce presence by his side, slashing and hacking at the monsters when his gunpowder had run out, and he hews down every monster who passes Lee Chang’s guard – but it is not enough. They are not enough.

Despite his dying hopes, still Lee Chang fights on. He remembers his promise to the herbalist, and he will carry it through to the best of ability, as long as there is breath left in his body.

“We must go to the magistrate’s court!” Yeong-shin calls to him. “To the magistrate’s court!” he roars, to the guards fighting alongside them. Lee Chang spies a mother advancing on her two daughters, cowering behind the pillar of their home, the door torn off his hinges and completely wrecked. He yanks the children to him and covers their eyes before severing the neck of their mother.

“Follow me,” he calls to the children, his voice rough as he steers them away from the corpse of their mother, so they do not see her body fall. The younger of the two sobs, and grips at his coat, smearing it with blood. Thankfully, they appear not to have been bitten, but the older has a large gash on her arm embedded with splinters, which requires looking at. Lee Chang grits his teeth and rips off the hem of his coat to use as a bandage.

“Your Highness,” snarls Yeong-shin from beside him, slicing off the head of a monster who lurches too close, “there are too many of them. We must make for the magistrate’s court, now!”

They sprint to the building, fending off monsters and rescuing whatever people they can. As the court comes into view, Lee Chang utters a yell of fury – the gates are blocked and barred.

“That coward of a magistrate,” he curses. “I’ll have his head – I’ll have their heads, the lot of them!”

Yeong-shin glances around, and wrenches a ladder sticking out from a nearby hut. He presses it against the walls and gestures frantically at it. Lee Chang scales the ladder. Suddenly a dozen arrows are pointed at him.

“You dare shoot the heir to the Phoenix Throne?” he bellows. “You do not fear divine retribution, or the annihilation of your entire family?”

The soldiers glance at each other, and back down despite the magistrate’s panicked shouting. Lee Chang glances at the gate; the men have shoved countless objects against it, and it will be a waste of time to attempt to dismantle the structure. He turns back to look down at Yeong-shin.

“The gate cannot be opened,” he cries. “Bring more ladders!” Yeong-shin’s eyes burn furiously into his, then he nods and darts away. Lee Chang hops down the ladder and grasps the two girls in his arms.

“Up you go,” he says quietly to them, and boosts them up the ladder. They disappear over the wall.

More people come to him, either citizens driven from their homes or guards who had been on watch. He fends off the monsters howling at their backs, while they scramble up the ladder. Similar scenes play out beside him, as more ladders are found and the remaining people of Jecheon who have not managed to wrestle themselves onto the rooftops, hurl themselves into the court of the magistrate’s offices.

In the middle of the fray, Lee Chang starts as he grasps hold of a familiar calloused palm, and he spins around to look into Seo-bi’s dear, beautiful face. He almost cries in relief, for in her other hand, she grasps Mu-yeong’s.

“I thank the gods you are here,” he says, feelingly, and grasps Mu-yeong’s shoulder in a moment of camaraderie. Mu-yeong gives him an answering grin, a flash of teeth - then back into the chaos and panic they go.

Finally, when it appears all the remaining people of Jecheon have successfully escaped – and, miraculously, none of them have been bitten – they hop over the wall and into the magistrate’s court. As Lee Chang’s feet hit the sand, his knees buckle, and he almost plants face-first into the ground.

A hand on his elbow stays him, and he returns to his feet with muttered thanks. Yeong-shin stays close to him, the tendrils of his hair escaping from his messy topknot, and his clothes flecked with fresh gore. Lee Chang knows he himself looks no better.

The gates buckle under the weight of the monsters as they attempt to break their way in.

“The gates!” a man shouts, and Lee Chang looks over at him. He bears the insignia of the captain of the guard. “We must hold the gates!” Lee Chang follows him as he sprints forward, along with many of the guards, and they brace themselves against the carts and furnitures and various other heavy items stacked against the gates.

“Oh, woe!” shrieks the governor of Jecheon faintly from somewhere behind them. “Jecheon is finished!”

“Jecheon is far from finished,” Lee Chang hisses, from between gritted teeth. “As long as there is still one man upright – one child alive – one home still standing – the spirit of Jecheon will never die. And neither will we, if we keep hope still in our hearts. Keep pushing!”

The barrier creaks and moans, and Lee Chang feels his body being pushed back. His every muscle screams at him in protest, and he feels his arms and legs begin to shake violently – yet still, he pushes on. The desperate cries of men and women and children alike echo around him, and the grunts of the soldiers frenziedly pushing alongside him, spur him on.

He feels a shoulder shove up against his, steadying him; a calm and stable presence. Yeong-shin stares determinedly forward, his palms braced against one of the carts, and his body as unmoving as a mountain. The strong lines of his profile are set aglow by the rising sun.

“We are saved!” one of the men shrieks. “The sun – it is rising!”

Cheers erupt from the company, as light streams into the city – cheers that are echoed by the people outside the compound. A smile is torn from Lee Chang, and he drops his head, feeling his heart burn with relief.

But the weight against the gates does not falter. And slowly, he begins to realise that there is something very wrong.

“The plant grows only in the coldest of valleys, and holds the key to undying life.”

The murmur comes from behind him, and it is in Seo-bi’s voice. As Lee Chang watches her, she turns her face to the sun, and the expression that forms there is one of utter terror.

“It was not the sun they feared,” she whispers, aghast. “It was the heat.”

At that moment, the gate gives an alarming creak, and there is a loud crash as one of the monsters’ heads bashes through the wood. It snarls and froths, its fangs an inch from Lee Chang’s face, and he freezes.

“This is untenable,” he hisses. “Without the sun to drive them away, we cannot hold out waiting for a false hope. We cannot hold the gate forever.”

“Then what else can we do,” Mu-yeong huffs next to him. “There is nothing else we can do!” And it is the panic in Mu-yeong’s voice – steady, fearless, brave Mu-yeong – which causes Lee Chang, truly, to fear.

“I regret not saying goodbye to my wife,” Mu-yeong says, and his voice breaks on the last word. “I told her I would not bid her goodbye, for I would soon be back – and I regret not being able to hold my son.”

“You will hold him in your arms yet,” Lee Chang cries. “I give you my word – you will see your son when we return to Hanyang. Do not lose hope, Mu-yeong – we will live through this!” Frantically, he tosses his head about, searching for a way to lead them through this madness. The unearthly groans and grunts of the monsters fill the air, and the cloying scent of rotting flesh rouses his gorge, but still he presses on. How can he not, when the lives of so many depend on him?

“Your Highness!” Seo-bi calls, and suddenly she is by his side, a torch in her hands. Their eyes spark with the light of the same idea, at the same time.

“Hold the fort,” he murmurs to Yeong-shin, “and keep Mu-yeong sane.” Yeong-shin answers with a grim nod.

“Magistrate Han!” Lee Chang bellows, as he turns from the barricade back to the cowering officials hiding behind him. The man in question shoots up like a frightened rabbit. Lee Chang looks with disgust at the tear tracks running down his face, and the snot that has smeared his expensive robes.

“Bring out your gunpowder and alcohol,” he commands sternly, and the governor blinks owlishly up at him, his mouth open.

“Now!” Lee Chang roars, and the man’s entire body shudders violently.

“Yes, Your Highness!” he squeaks, and looks desperately at the nobles gathered round him. “Well, what are you waiting for!” he shrieks. “Stand up, you lazy fools! Follow me!”

It takes them far too long to retrieve gunpowder and alcohol from their stores, and by the time they have heaved the barrels out, the barricade is creaking and groaning in protest. The men are kept busy slicing off various heads which have popped through gaps in the barrier, and stuffing the bodies back to plug the holes, but there are simply too many of them.

“Your Highness,” says the captain of the guard, with a quick bow. Lee Chang turns to look at him. “We must distract the monsters, for you to carry out your plan.”

“They are attracted to blood,” Lee Chang replies calmly. “The scent of blood will draw them off.”

The man’s mouth twists, and he nods shortly. He gathers some of the guards, and they ascend unsteadily to the top of the walls, over to the right. In tandem, they lift their blades and slice deep cuts into their arms. The blood drips steadily down onto the ground, and the monsters are driven into a frenzy. They congregate at the area of the wall stained with blood, tumbling over one another and gnashing their teeth at the men out of their reach.

Lee Chang grasps hold of the ladder on the other side of the wall, and readies himself to jump over. A soldier stands beside him at the ready, with a barrel of gunpowder.

As he is about to leap onto the ladder, a hand takes hold of him, and yanks him away.

“Are you mad???” Yeong-shin thunders, his eyes full of rage, and his nails cut into the skin of Lee Chang’s wrist.

“Someone must encircle them, so we may set them on fire,” Lee Chang says coldly, “and I would not ask any of these men to do something that I myself would not dare.”

“You are mad,” Yeong-shin says, in disbelief. “You are the Crown Prince – you must not die!”

“I do not deserve to live, more than any other man here!” Lee Chang roars. “What does my title mean here, when it is a matter of life and death? I will not sacrifice someone else’s life to carry out a plan which may result in death – a plan that I myself have advanced!”

Yeong-shin stares at him, for a moment, his eyes hard. Then Lee Chang stumbles and falls with the force of his movement as he jerks Lee Chang backwards, and bounds onto the ladder himself.

“Mu-yeong, protect him,” he says coolly, “and cover me.” And with that, he is gone. Lee Chang stares in horror up at the ladder.

The soldier tosses the barrel of gunpowder over, and there is a renewed chorus of groans and moans as the monsters become aware of a human on the ground with them. Lee Chang can hear them shifting, shuffling away from the blood on the walls to the right, and making their way towards the left, where Yeong-shin is.

The sound galvanises him into action, and he seizes the bow and arrow from a neighbouring soldier. Mu-yeong is already up on the walls delivering arrow after arrow into the heads of the monsters, and so Lee Chang scrambles hastily up an adjacent ladder. He sees Yeong-shin dragging the barrel, pouring gunpowder in a circle around the monsters, as they grumble in confusion, torn between the fresh blood dripping from the right walls, and the scent of human rushing round them.

One monster decides the latter to be more attractive to him, and makes a headlong rush for Yeong-shin. Lee Chang buries an arrow in its neck before it has a chance to attack, and the distraction buys Yeong-shin enough time to finish pouring the gunpowder, and toss the empty barrel at the monster. It hits the creature in the face, and bowls it backwards. Yeong-shin leaps towards the nearest ladder, and is pulled to safety by the soldiers.

Before Lee Chang even realises what he is doing, he has sprung off his own ladder, and his feet are carrying him towards where Yeong-shin is calmly reloading his rifle.

“Do that again,” Lee Chang hisses, “and I’ll kill you myself.”

“You’re welcome,” Yeong-shin replies, unfazed, and stalks away back to the wall. He aims, and fires, and even without looking, Lee Chang knows his shot would have found its mark. There is the boom of an explosion, and flames spring up and lick the air. A cheer erupts from the men inside the compound, and faintly from the people outside, on the rooftops.

“The alcohol!” Lee Chang calls, grabbing onto one of the barrels himself. “We must feed the flames!”

The soldiers answer his call, and they toss the alcohol over the monsters. It is soju, imported from Japan, high-quality wine with high alcohol content, and so it takes to the flame easily. The sounds the monsters make as they shrivel and burn to death are strangely anticlimactic – almost akin to that of a firework fizzling out in the rain.

And just as this thought comes to him, it does begin to rain. A light drizzle at first, then it comes down in droves. The streets run pale pink, the blood washed away by the rain, and the air turns crisp and clean. There is silence from below the walls as the monsters stir no more. Lee Chang closes his eyes, and the scent of burned flesh leaves his senses.

It is the beginning of a new day, and while the cold rain stings his skin, he is glad to be alive.

“Your lip is bleeding,” Yeong-shin murmurs, and the closeness of his voice startles Lee Chang; he spins around. Yeong-shin is standing behind him, his expression unreadable, but his eyes as intense as ever.

Lee Chang recalls his words, and wipes carelessly at his mouth. His hand comes off stained with red; he looks at it with a sort of detached surprise.

“You must have bitten into it,” Yeong-shin says, quietly, and makes an abortive movement towards him, before retracting his hand, and turning it into a sort of vague gesture.

“Thank you,” Lee Chang says, but he does not move to wipe the rest of the blood off. The wound smarts, but it is a reminder that he can hurt, he can feel pain – a reminder that he is alive. That they are both alive.

“I apologise for touching you, earlier,” Yeong-shin continues, and Lee Chang glances down to where there is a red ring round his wrist. He cannot even recall the pain from Yeong-shin’s grip.

He looks up, and catches Yeong-shin’s face tightening, before the man recalls himself, and his face is a mask once more.

“I did not mean to grip as tightly as I did,” Yeong-shin murmurs. “I apologise for my forwardness.”

“An apology is the last thing I need from you,” Lee Chang replies softly. “You saved my – our lives last night. This morning. A thousand times you have put yourself in harm’s way for me, and it would take me a thousand lives to repay you.”

A dull flush rises in Yeong-shin’s cheeks, and he turns his head away with no reply. Lee Chang looks for Mu-yeong and Seo-bi, and finds them huddled away with the wounded, tending to their injuries. Mu-yeong is nursing a large gash on his arm, but from the lack of haste in his demeanour, it is not from a bite, and so Lee Chang exhales a sign of relief as he realises that it is the sole injury marking either of their bodies.

Lee Chang stalks up to the magistrate, who is sitting in the corner of the court and greedily stuffing his face with mandu.

“You are not the first to bar your door to me, in the face of the monsters,” he says, and the man shrieks in surprise and cowers, the mandu falling to the ground and staining his pristine white shoes. Lee Chang looks at the blood staining the soles of his own, and Mu-yeong’s, and those of the guards who had held the barricade along with them.

“And the more I see of you cowardly officials, the more I realise that you will not be the last,” he ends, coldly. “Consider yourself dismissed from your position. I will deal with you when we are finished with the problem of the plague. You,” and he turns to the captain of the guard. “By the divine right invested in me as Crown Prince,” he says, imperiously, “I grant you the position of magistrate of Jecheon. Carry out your role well – and do not make the mistake of falling into the same company as this man.” His knuckles itch to bury themselves into the ex-magistrate’s face, but he clenches his fist, and restrains himself. The worm is not even worth the honour of his discipline.

“Your Highness,” Seo-bi murmurs from behind him, and she bows as he turns. “I have something urgent to tell you.”

“What is it?” he asks softly, taking her arm and guiding her away from the magistrate, who is now curling up into a fetal position and sobbing hysterically into the ground.

Seo-bi hesitates, then says, haltingly, “I saw Physician Lee Seung-hui earlier – he was hurrying out from one of the huts near the herbalist, and he left on horseback. I wanted to call out to him, but I was caught up in the confusion – night fell, then – and I didn’t manage to follow him. But how – Your Highness, do you know - ”

“I do not,” Lee Chang says, truthfully, “but he must be connected to the spread of the plague. It is too much of a coincidence that one of the few men who knows about the workings of the resurrection plant, was here when the disease was first spread. You must bring me to the hut from which he exited.”

“He – no, he couldn’t be connected to his matter,” Seo-bi says, the bewilderment clear in her voice. “He was an honest, selfless man – no, it is impossible for him to be the one behind the plague!”

“Dishonest, selfish acts may be committed by honest, selfless men,” Lee Chang says quietly, “for reasons they themselves deem honest and selfless. But I do not know enough on the matter, yet. We must hurry to this hut you speak of.”

Yeong-shin and Mu-yeong join them as they stride from the courtyard and head into the city. All around them, the sparse survivors descend from the rooftops, one-by-one. There are far too few of them left, and it is a bitter pill to swallow.

“This is the hospital the herbalist spoke of,” Yeong-shin says, as Seo-bi stops in front of a house with the roof partially-caved in. Half of the word ‘hospital’ can still be seen in the wooden sign hanging lopsidedly off the rafters.

“We were here just earlier, yesterday afternoon,” Lee Chang says, the realisation startling him. “I tripped over an old man in a straw hat. He was buying crockery at one of the stalls here. Could it have been - ” He looks at Seo-bi for confirmation, and she nods, her face grim.

Mu-yeong takes the lead, and walks cautiously into the house, sword unsheathed. It is empty and messy, and pallets are strewn over the ground, stained with blood. There is no one in the room.

They search the hut for traces of Lee Seung-hui, but there are none, other than a few bandages and medical supplies next to the pallets which have been knocked over.

“These are sanjoin, the seeds of wild jujubes.” She holds the reddish-brown pellets up to the light. “They are used to induce sleep, and cure insomnia. They are commonly found in any clinic – they tell us nothing.”

“Then this is another dead end,” Mu-yeong says, in despair. “What other leads do we have? It will be impossible to track down this person who is spreading the plague! We have no proof he is Physician Lee, and furthermore, he seems to always be one step ahead of us.”

“Not so,” Yeong-shin says suddenly. “The gates are staffed all hours of the day, and furthermore, they were barred yesterday after Your Highness ordered the guards mobilised. Both entry and exit was forbidden. If we check with the guards, we will know who entered and exited before the gates were closed.”

“And to spread the plague to so many cities in so short a time requires great expenditure of effort,” continues Lee Chang, looking at Yeong-shin. Yeong-shin answers with a short nod. “If it is indeed Physician Lee, he is an old man, and would not be able to ride as hard and as fast to the next city by now.”

“Then we must hurry!” Mu-yeong exclaims, and they rush out of the house. Seo-bi hurries after them.

“Your Highness!” she says, desperately. Lee Chang stops and turns to look at her. She wrings her hands anxiously, and her eyes are frantic. “My master would never do such a thing. He is selfless, and he would never willingly do anything to harm a hair on anyone’s head. He must – he must be searching for a cure. I am quite sure that he is not the kind of man to perpetrate such heinous crimes.”

“Even so,” Lee Chang says quietly, “He knows something about these incidents, and we must find him. You are right – it is too early to assume that he is the perpetrator, but still, we must find out what he knows.”

Seo-bi nods, her mouth twisting unhappily, but she accepts, and they catch up to the rest of the group.

They hear what they need to hear from the guards at the gate. An old man had indeed left right before the order had come in to shut the gates, and one of the guards remembered him quite well – he had been riding a grey horse which had looked worn and tired, and he himself had been hunched over as if in great fatigue. The guard had stopped him and asked after his health, but the man had assured him that he was alright, and had left in the direction of Wonju.

“We can still catch him,” Mu-yeong says excitedly. Lee Chang looks over at Yeong-shin. “You can track him?” he asks, and the tiger hunter nods in assent.

Before they leave, Lee Chang sends one last order to the new magistrate of Jecheon – to burn every single last body, and cut off their heads, then to bury them far away from any farm or water source to prevent contamination. Then they ride out immediately, following tracks that Yeong-shin finds.

It is not long before they track the horse’s hoofprints to the nearby forest. While it is merely the first day of winter, the snowfall is still deep, and the snow crunches under their feet. There is a small hut in the woods, dilapidated and rotting, but still sturdy.

“He must be in there,” Yeong-shin murmurs. “There is smoke from the chimney, and the tracks lead directly to its door.”

Lee Chang nods in acknowledgement, and they alight from their horses. Carefully, they make their way up to the front door, and Lee Chang knocks.

There is a hurried scrambling from inside, and the sound of bottles being knocked over. Not hearing any other sound, Lee Chang knocks again.

“Physician Lee,” he calls. “We must speak to you.”

There is no answer, and Mu-yeong sighs. Lee Chang steps aside, and Mu-yeong shoves his shoulder roughly against the door. It gives way, the wood creaking and shattering in protest, and Mu-yeong strides in, sword extended before him.

There is an old man crouching on the ground, arms wrapped around his knees and his body rocking back and forth. Mu-yeong sheathes his sword.

“Physician Lee,” Lee Chang says quietly. “Lee Seung-hui?”

The man lifts his face, and it is a haggard, emaciated one, the flesh worn off his bones, dark blotches under his eyes. It was a face that would seem as horrific as one of the monsters, were it not for the clarity in his pupils and the paleness of his skin. And yet his expression is placid, almost calm.

“I knew you would come,” he whispers, and his voice creaks and scrapes like worn wood. “I cannot bear this any longer. Oh, the things I have done…”

“Master,” Seo-bi says quietly, coming up behind Lee Chang, and at the sound of her voice and the sight of her face, the man’s tepid eyes widen, and his pupils dilate.

“Master,” Seo-bi says again, and she approaches him carefully, as one would a wild animal in a trap. She kneels down by him, and places a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“You know what has been happening with the monsters – who has been spreading the plague, or, at least, wherein the cure lies,” she murmurs. “Please, tell us. Many lives have been taken, and many more lives will be taken still, if you do not tell us what you know.”

Under Seo-bi’s hand, a subtle tremor arises in his limbs, and spreads through his limbs. His head drops, and the untidy strands of his hair fall forward to cover his face.

“I did it,” he whispers, and the admission echoes loudly in the silence of the room.

To her credit, Seo-bi does not flinch or show any reaction to his words, other than the pinching of her brows, and her hand stays gentle and steady on the physician’s shoulder.

“Why did you do it, Master?” she asks, and her voice has gone high and thin from her shock and bewilderment. “You swore an oath to protect and preserve human life. Why would you – to spread the plague – how - ”

“I – I had no choice,” he says quietly. “I was forced into this. I was given no other option.”

“Forced into this by who?” Lee Chang asks, his voice hard. Physician Lee slowly lifts his head, and they lock gazes. His eyes are haunted and full of shadows.

“I – I cannot say,” he replies haltingly, but the tone of his voice gives no doubt that he will remain firm on the matter.

Lee Chang exhales explosively. “Then what is the cure?” he says, and this time he can no longer hold himself back. His voice trembles from the strength of his fury. “Do you know how many hundreds have died from the plague – by your hand, for it was your hand that sowed the seed! Do you know how many bodies lie dead in Dongnae and Jecheon as a result of your actions?! What of the promise you made, the oath your swore, to the people under your care?”

Physician Lee’s mouth twists agonisingly, but still he makes no response, and can only shake his head mutely. Seo-bi jerks her hand back from his shoulder and stumbles to her feet. She looks down on him, and while her mouth forms no words, the anger and disappointment are plain on her face.

“Fine,” Lee Chang says, softly. “Fine. We will bring you back to the capital, and we will see if the Royal Commandery cannot extract some answers from you. Mu-yeong, restrain him.” Mu-yeong nods, and moves forward with rope to tie him up. Physician Lee does not make any move to resist, his body lying limpid in Mu-yeong’s arms, and his eyes empty and resigned.

“We ride back to Hanyang via the fastest route,” Lee Chang orders, striding out of the hut. “We will not stop at Wonju, since we have the man we need. We must reach the capital as soon as possible.”

***

The journey will take them two days. They ride as hard and fast as they dare to, on their weary steeds, and make camp in a secluded clearing. Mu-yeong brings back two pheasants for dinner, for they are running low on supplies, and Yeong-shin tends to the horses’ feet and pelts. The poor beasts stand with their heads drooped and ears down in their exhaustion.

After dinner, Yeong-shin takes first watch, as usual, and the others make themselves as comfortable as possible in their pallets. Lee Chang tosses and turns. Every sound is as poison to his ears, and keeps sleep far from his reach.

After a while, he can bear it no longer, and he sits up, careful not to make too much noise. He looks around. Even Mu-yeong, ever-alert, has succumbed to his fatigue, and is snoring with gentle snuffles into his arm. Seo-bi lies placidly in her pallet, while Physician Lee is curled up into a ball on his side, eyeballs twitching and fingers clutching at nothing, in his slumber. Yeong-shin sits by the fire, his back to them, and his silhouette lit up by the flames. He exhales, and mist pours from his mouth like smoke from a roaring bonfire.

Lee Chang shivers. He pulls aside his blanket and steps from his bed. With unsteady feet, he pads towards the fire with soundless footsteps, and settles on a rock next to Yeong-shin. Yeong-shin turns his head slightly at his arrival, but otherwise, he makes no sound of acknowledgement.

Lee Chang is acutely aware that his own face is now no longer masked by his bonnet, for he had taken it off to sleep.

Even now he is unsure of his trust in Yeong-shin – for trust in the man he does, but he does not know if it is warranted, or not. Since his days in the palace – and how long ago they now seem! – he had always been slow to trust, and quick to doubt, for who knew which courtiers or nobles were in the Haewon Cho clan’s pay, and which were not? And although Yeong-shin made for an untrustworthy figure on first glance, their days together had brought a faith in him that was difficult to dispel.

While he recognises the logic of Mu-yeong’s words, and knows that Mu-yeong’s instincts are often to be trusted, he cannot bring himself to believe in those instincts now, not when the four of them have been through so much together already. His trust in all three of his companions feels new, but unshakeable.

To his surprise, he does not need to say anything, for Yeong-shin makes the first move.

“I had a brother, once,” Yeong-shin says, and his voice is hushed. The fire flickers in the wind.

Lee Chang does not say anything; in fact, he knows not what to say.

“He was young and carefree. He wished to accompany me on my hunts, but I could not let him. He was all the family I had.”

“Where is he now?” Lee Chang asks gently.

“He is dead,” Yeong-shin says harshly. His body is strangely still, but his fingers clench tight around the barrel of his musket, which he holds close to his body. “He was killed in the war. He did not fight, and yet he is dead. Many years after his death I sought the man who was responsible, and I found him in Hanyang.” He looks directly at Lee Chang, then.

“You have a suspicion as to who is responsible for this,” he says, directly. “I know who you suspect. And I also know that the man you think to be responsible for this is also the man who killed my brother.”

Lee Chang exhales sharply, and inclines his head. Yeong-shin has so far told no lie, and so he chooses to believe him in this matter.

“I am sorry for your loss,” Lee Chang says, and his voice is very soft. Yeong-shin does not reply, but his grip loosens on his musket, and he turns his head aside.

They exchange no more words, but sit and contemplate the fire, and somehow, Lee Chang feels at peace.

#upm works #upm #changshin #kingdom #kingdom netflix #lee chang #yeong shin #lee chang x yeong shin #mu yeong #beom pal #seo bi #kingdom fanfiction #changshin fanfiction

5 notes · View notes

joeybelle · 6 years

Text

Oh, how the tables have turned - Clyde Logan x Reader

Part 1

Inspired by @clyde-prompts: “Some guys are rude and use ableist slurs against Clyde. The reader is with them, and although she feels bad about what's happening, is too scared to say anything in front of her "friends". She comes back to the bar a couple nights later to try and show him she's not a bad person. They get to know each other and fall in love”. Doesn’t fully follow the prompt

Warnings: Language, ableist slurs, general stupidity, first person point of view.

Rating: Mature

Setting: Pre-heist

AN: Please keep in mind when reading this that I’m not a native speaker so my English may be questionable at time. Also, I’m a very slow writer because usually when I have the energy to write I don’t have time and vice-versa. Any type of feedback is appreciated, even incoherent keyboard smashes. The things I tag sometimes don’t show up in tag searches so check the masterlist from time to time. Thank you <3

It looked like a dive bar and I was pretty sure it was one, but I wasn’t surprised in the least. It’s what I had expected from my friends. Maybe they’d grown up in the years I hadn’t seen them, but I was certain they still enjoyed cheap drinks and questionable company, at least sometimes. And to be honest, I wasn’t one to complain. With my dwindling budget, I would have done anything to save a buck.

“Baby!” Jake’s booming voice greeted me the moment I stepped into the bar, the heavy door closing behind me with a thud.

If there was something I really didn’t look forward to about moving back to my West Virginia hometown was being called ‘Baby’ once again. My childhood friend, Maggie, used to call me that since we were toddlers and somehow it stuck. Before I knew it, the whole high school knew me as Baby. Hell, that’s what the whole town called me. And while it was somehow acceptable (although a bit creepy for obvious reasons) in high school, in the meantime I’d grown up and felt like it was time for the nickname to die.

My friends were all gathered around a pool table, some actively playing, others watching or sitting at the nearby table. There were quite a few empty beer bottles in front of them, and I realized that the party had started way before I’d arrived there. Somehow, this made me uneasy. It’s never advisable to be the only sober person in the bunch.

Jake, Peter and his sister Lisa, stood around the pool table, and my childhood friend Maggie a little further by the bar. There was a brunette holding onto Peter’s waist, so I assumed she was his wife, but I couldn't for the love of me remember her name, although I was sure Maggie had told me about her multiple times. The others were faces I didn’t recognize. Although my group of friends in highschool has always been pretty large, the core was always made of the five of us.

Jake looked considerably more inebriated than the rest, although this didn’t surprise me either. Maggie had told me that he had become quite the heavy drinker after they had gotten married, and that scared me. He had always been tall and well built, and right now he looked even more massive than I remembered. With his volcanic personality and rather unpredictable nature, I wasn’t really sure what to expect. Hopefully, with age came some wisdom too, but judging by his glazed eyes and the stupid grin he had on as he approached me, I highly doubted it.

“Fuck me, you’re still a babe,” he interjected, giving me a one armed hug, squeezing me a little too hard, making me flinch.

“And I thought I’d finally evolved into an actual woman by now,” I joked, wiggling out of his crushing embrace.

“Nah,” he said patting me on the butt, something I really didn’t appreciate, but remembering it was something we used to do as teenagers, I let it slip. “You’re still a baby. Hey Maggie,” he boomed once again, earning some glares from the other patrons. “Look who’s here!”

“Baby!” She shrieked so loud that I was sure at least half the continent knew I was back in town. Not that anyone cared, besides the handful of highschool friends currently huddled around a pool table in this rather rural bar.

Maggie almost tackled me, hugging me so tight it almost hurt. “Oh my god, you changed so much,” she said, running her hand through my hair. “I see you prefer it more natural these days. Is that the trend in New York?” she said, and I could sense a weird note in her voice. She twirled a bleach blonde curl around her finger and went to kiss her husband. She was still the same as always: bleached hair, tiny shorts and a crop top revealing a perfect abdomen that didn’t show any signs of the three children she’d given birth to in the past ten years. But she had always been the athletic one, head cheerleader and all that, and although I envied her sometimes, I was much too lazy to try and be like her.

“I don’t think anyone cares how you look like in New York. No one really looks at you,” I replied, shrugging.

“Is that why you came back?” I always knew there was a sense of bitterness that Maggie was left with after I went to university, but I had hoped it would be old news by now. Apparently not.

Maggie and I have known each other since we were in diapers. She lived a few houses down the road and we spent all our childhood together. She had always been incredibly beautiful and bubbly and fun and everyone loved her, so it was a given that she’d be very popular. She was a cheerleader all throughout high school, got herself a quarterback boyfriend (that she later married) and because I was her best friend I ended up with the popular kids too. And for the most part I really tried to blend in. I dyed my hair and wore short skirts, flirted with whomever was available, I even tried to join the cheerleader squad, but after face planting and breaking my nose, I decided it just wasn’t for me.

However, during senior year I realized that the small town we were living in wasn’t what I wanted. I dreamed of the big cities, full of opportunities and exciting jobs and interesting people and all that. I was tired of seeing the same old faces every day, the same two bars that sold cheap booze and the same bleak future for all of us. I told her this and started applying to out of state universities.

She was hurt. I know she had imagined that we’d both live here all our lives, get married and have children that would be best friends like we were before them. She used to daydream about this when we were little, we’d buy houses next to each other and we wouldn’t have a fence, just a big garden where we would both drink our coffee in the morning. So I understand why she would feel betrayed by my departure.

But this was never my dream. I always felt like this place was too boring and that I could do so much better. So I studied hard, applied to universities and was finally accepted to NYU, and since then I lived in New York for more than a decade. However, when I was just a teenager dreaming of big cities, I never imagined how hard living in one would actually be.

“Nope,” I said, shrugging. “It’s the money. Couldn't afford living in New York anymore.”

There was no reason to lie to her, or to anyone for that reason. Finding a job in my current field was hard so I had to resort to teaching jobs for the past few years, and the pay wasn’t so good. That coupled with my student loans, other random loans and rent, left me with very little for expenses, not to mention such luxuries and new clothes and internet. I felt really embarrassed having to borrow money from my parents just to live, even though they were always loving and helpful, so when I heard that the community college near my hometown had an opening for an assistant job in my field, I was happy to come back and not starve in New York. Big cities are way less glamorous when you’re homeless.

“It’s always the money, eh?” she said, and her eyes were a little softer, like she understood. With the current economy, she must have struggled at some point too. “You live in your old house, right? Too bad we sold my family house after my dad passed away, otherwise we’d still be neighbours,” she laughed.

“We’re not that far away. A short drive and we can visit anytime.”

“I know! I’m so happy that you’re back! Can’t wait to tell you all the new gossip!” She sounded so excited that I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I just didn’t give a shit about any sort of rumours. One other thing that I really didn’t miss about small towns: the gossip.

“Hey babe,” Jake cut in. “Where are our drinks?”

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry,” she apologized with a distracted smile. “I was about to get drinks when you showed up and I completely forgot why I went to the bar in the first place. What can I get you?”

“Uhh, a beer is fine. I can’t stay long anyway. I’m waiting for someone to deliver my fridge.”

“At this hour?” asked Jake.

“They got lost somehow. I don’t know, I just want my fridge, so my food doesn’t spoil anymore and I can have cool drinks once again,” I said, thinking at how the past week had been torture. I could easily live without the luxury of an AC, but living without a fridge was too much for me.

With the corner of my eye I could see Maggie returning, precariously holding too many beer bottles. I thought I’d help her, but the bartender had already gone around the bar and was taking a couple of bottles from her hands, making sure she arrived with them all in one piece. She shot him one of her trademark winks and I couldn’t help but laugh. One marriage and three kids later and she was still cheekily flirting with everyone.

“Hey fuckface!” Jake yelled, startling me. Confused, I had to look around to see who he was referring to. Following his extended index, it seemed that he meant the bartender. “You stay away from my wife! You hear me, stay away!”

Right. He’d always had a jealousy problem that didn’t seem to have gotten any better over the years. It was another thing I was glad I didn’t have to deal with while living in New York. As it seemed, I was already starting to regret moving back. Or at least, trying to mend relationships with my old friends. I guess distance wasn’t the only reason we lost touch.

“Come on, babe, he’s just trying to help,” she said appeasingly, and somehow I didn’t think this would help de-escalate the situation, so I hurried to take the bottles from the bartender’s hand so he could go back to where he wasn’t perceived as a threat by Jake.

“Thanks!” I said, looking up at him. He was a really tall and broad man, even taller than Jake, but he didn’t have the same intimidating stance. Maybe because his eyes looked soft, or because his face held a certain gentleness. “And sorry, my friend is a bit of a hothead,” I tried apologizing, hoping it would all stop here.

“It’s ok,” he said in a low, beautiful voice, that I had to admit kinda tickled my fancy. However, before I could say anything else he turned on his heels and went back behind the bar.

In the meantime, Jake was still yelling profanities, although by the tone of his voice he was more mocking than angry. “Jake, stop it for fuck’s sake,” I said, passing the beers along, and taking a sip from my own bottle, quite certain that more alcohol wasn’t the best idea, but I wasn’t their mother. “He didn’t touch her, he just wanted to help her with the beers that’s all. Leave him alone.”

“You’re still such a baby,” he laughed and I snorted. “You didn’t see how he was staring at her, the fucking creep.”

That made me look over to the bar. The bartender was making himself busy with something behind the counter but when he lifted his eyes, he did have and intense gaze, one that could possibly be mistaken for staring by an inebriated hothead. “I don’t think he meant anything by it,” I said, prying my eyes from the tall man. “Anyway, how are you all doing?” I said, trying to shift the subject, because I really didn’t want to be part of a bar brawl.

“Jake’s right, he’s always been a weirdo,” said Peter finally leaving the game of pool to join the conversation. “Staring creepily at all the pretty girls he couldn’t have. Cause he’s an ugly ass nerd.”

“Oh shut up!” I hissed, getting increasingly irritated. They spoke loudly like they wanted him to hear. I just wanted to spend a pleasant night out with my old friends, not to watch them belittle someone else.

“He’s kinda right, Baby,” Maggie said, apologetically. “He was always a bit weird. Not talking to anyone, that sort of thing. He was always ogling at us in highschool.”

“Do I know him?” I asked, trying to put a name to the face.

“Maybe. Yeah, probably, he was a year or two older than us. Clyde Logan.” The name didn’t ring a bell. “Jimmy Logan’s younger brother?”

“Ohhh!” I glanced towards him again trying to see if he looked familiar. He didn’t, and definitely didn’t resemble his brother at all. “Was he really in highschool with us? I don’t remember him.”

“‘Course not, Baby only had eyes for the great Jimmy Logan,” Peter said in a mocking tone, and I could feel the old bitterness was still there. He’d asked me out multiple times during highschool, and I always turned him down, but that had nothing to do with my everlasting and very well known crush on Jimmy Logan.

“Well, Jimmy’s single now,” Maggie informed me with a wink. “Not sure you’d like him anymore, now that he isn’t a star quarterback.”

“Wasn’t he going to marry Bobbie Jo?” I asked out of pure curiosity. Jimmy Logan hadn’t been on my mind for ages now so this conversation seemed weird.

“They broke up a long time ago. She’s married to some car dealer now. They have a kid together though.”

“I see,” was my only input.

“Bobbie Jo’s smart, she wouldn’t stay with a loser like him,” Jake laughed.

“Besides, people say the Logans are cursed.”

“Why would they say that?” I said, looking from Jake to Maggie, feeling more and more like I’m gonna regret this outing.

“Cause, you know,” she started explaining, “both their parents died, Jimmy fucked up his career because of his leg…”

“And this one lost his fucking arm in Iraq.”

Only after they pointed it out did I notice the plastic prosthetic strapped to his arm. I took my time to actually look at him, since he seemed busy behind the bar and not looking up. He did everything with only one arm, with more dexterity than I would have been able to, with both arms intact. There was this air of sadness on his long face, the corners of his mouth slightly curling downwards. I felt really sorry for him, being in a warzone is tough and coming back with permanent injuries is even tougher. I didn’t really want to know the mental trauma that came with it.

He suddenly looked up, meeting my gaze so I smiled and looked away, hoping he wasn’t too weirded out that I was staring at him. Given the shit he probably heard from my so called friends, he probably was.

“They say he’s lucky, he could have died that day,” Maggie continued, and I was starting to feel exhausted by this conversation. Not because I didn’t want to find out more about Clyde Logan, quite the opposite, but I was pretty sure we were close enough for him to be able to listen in. And none of them made an effort to keep their voice down. “But living with only one arm feels more like a curse to me.”

“He’s lucky alright,” Jake laughed loudly, and I feared the worst. “He’s lucky cuz he lost his left arm and he’s still got something to jerk off with,” he said, loud enough for the whole bar to hear. Clyde only looked up for a second, then went back to what he was doing.

“For fuck’s sake, stop it already,” I pleaded with Jake, now knowing full well that this meeting was a mistake.

“Well maybe he likes jerking off with the plastic hand,” Peter added, making an obscene gesture with his hand and I snapped.

“Jesus fucking Christ what’s wrong with you guys?”

“Relax, Baby! We’re just having a little fun.”

“This is definitely not fun!”

“What is it,” Jake said, placing an arm around my shoulders that I promptly shook off, “did New York steal your sense of humour along with your accent?”

He had such a stupid sneer on his face that I wanted nothing more that to punch him in the teeth. “I didn’t lose my sense of humour,” I snarled, “but never, no matter how stupid or drunk we were during high school, would we stoop so low as to mock a disabled person. And I’m not gonna start doing it now. Not gonna be part of this.”

“Baby, please, come on, he didn’t mean anything by it. You know how Jake gets when he drinks, he’s always been a jokester,” Maggie tried to salvage the situation, but it was too late for that.

“Sorry,” I said, pulling my phone out of my pocket, “I think my refrigerator’s here. I have to run. I’ll see you all around, I guess.” I turned on my heels and went to the bar to pay for my beer.

Clyde Logan handed me the change with the same unfazed if a little sad look on his face and I had to wonder if he was just so used to this kind of abuse that he just didn’t give a shit anymore.

“I’m not disabled, you know,” he said, and I felt my heart sink to the depths of hell. “I’m just… I’m just missing a hand, that’s all.”

He looked me in the eye for a second and there was so much sadness in that brief glance that it almost broke my heart. It filled me with shame that I had somehow contributed to that.

“I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean…”

“It’s ok,” he said, but his voice was strained. He turned his back to me and I wanted to cry.

I almost ran out of the bar and climbed into my car. I let out a prolonged wail of anger and shame as I repeatedly banged my head on the steering wheel. This wasn’t how I planned on moving back to my old hometown. I really wanted to pass unnoticed and live peacefully in the countryside for as long as I’d be here. Have a garden. Maybe get a dog at some point, when I’d feel I could be responsible for a life other than my own.

I didn’t want to realize that my highschool friends were shit and that probably I had been shit for being friends with them. I didn’t want to hurt the cute bartender’s feelings especially since he was a veteran and his voice was so soft. The only thing I wanted to do was crawl under a rock with a working refrigerator and spend the rest of my life hibernating.

I mentally said goodbye to the Duck Tape before I drove away, because I sure as hell wouldn’t step in that bar ever again.

Masterlist

Next Part

#clyde logan #clyde logan x reader #logan lucky #clyde logan x oc

76 notes · View notes

halfhumanscribe · 6 years

Text

Novel Corp. - Orientation (1/3)

SYNOPSIS: Some people will do anything to get a job and keep. Sometimes it means doing things you don’t want to, sometimes its being part of something that doesn’t make any sense. RATING: M - MATURE (Language, Violence, Horror Elements) ORIGINAL PUBLISHING YEAR: 2012 WORD COUNT: 1729

Part 2 - Click Here Part 3 - Click Here

Novel Corp. - Prelude by Inganno Orientation (1/3)

Donald looked at the photo, taking in all the little details of his subject, before looking up from his desk at the man sitting across from him. Compared to the surveillance shots in front of him, the man seemed more pristine and professional, sporting a casual long sleeve button up, with a black and grey checkered sweater vest over it. Much better compared to the graphic tee and washed out jeans the kid was wearing in the picture. His hair was much more neat compared to the disheveled street view from the photographs, and and he certainly didn’t look like the lazy college student who had forgotten to set his alarm as the casual street pictures suggested.

No, the man that was sitting in front of Donald seemed like he was trying to take things much more seriously. Though, Donald wouldn’t go as far as to call him a man just yet. He must have been no more than nineteen or twenty years of age at the time, possibly younger. His hair color was so obviously fake, it almost hurt to look at it. You would have to be blind not to see how bleached it was. That type of style was even stranger considering the bizarre contrast of his hair color to his dark toned skin.

Still, he came “highly” recommended from one of his workers who was able to successfully retire earlier that year, so he wasn’t going to do much complaining. God knows they needed the extra help with the rival companies taking up all the fresh blood. But this kid… he wasn’t sure if this kid was actually going to be worth it, or if Louis was just trying to pawn him off on the corporation.

“So then Mr. Reinhold Eckhart,” Donald began as he dropped the photos on his desk, “what makes you think you got what it takes to work for us?”

Reinhold felt a small lump scuffle about in his throat. He did his best to swallow it, trying to keep the fear of being interviewed for a job from surfacing. He could already tell he was being judged like a piece of porterhouse. With all the interviews he had gone through the past few weeks, Reinhold thought he’d be used to them by now. But instead, he just found them to be as nerve wracking and panic inducing as always.

“Well… Donald,” he coughed out in the most confident voice he could muster, “I think I could bring a lot to the company.” He closed his mouth and kept himself as silent as could be.

The man at his desk didn’t like it. Silence after a question like that usually denoted insecurity in the answer. Still, Donald had to do his job, no matter how much he was beginning to dislike the person in front of him.

“Like what?” he asked, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket.

The question left Reinhold speechless as his mind scrambled to think of an answer. He was no good in these situations, and found himself drawing a blank, as usual.

“Surely you must have something,” Donald continued. He opened his desk and pulled out a cheap gas station lighter, igniting it and using the flame to burn the end of his cigarette. “I mean, we only have about twenty people working here, compared to our rivals which are usually sporting employees in the hundreds or even thousands. This place could definitely use a lot of improving. So what do you got?”

“Well, I um…” Reinhold stuttered.

Louis sure knows how to pick ‘em, Donald thought. He wondered if maybe he should call him sometime and see if he wanted to grab a beer sometime. It would certainly make things more interesting then dealing with nothing but standard rumor and hearsay jobs, he continued to think.

“I work well with others?” Reinhold told him, sounding completely unconvinced.

Donald rolled his eyes. “Listen kid, I’m gonna level with ya,” he said with a puff of smoke leaving his mouth. “This line of work is not easy. You have to do a lot of traveling, a lot of leg work and investigation, and depending on the assignment, there’s a good chance you may come back mortally scarred. Now I can tell your a nice, easy going kid, right?”

Reinhold held his breath and nodded, doing his best to look convincing. He hoped the man didn’t realize he lied about doing drugs on his application. He couldn’t help it that acid was just a fascinating drug. Hell, he was still slightly coming off a trip from that morning – something he hoped would have worn off by that time in the afternoon.

“Good,” Donald added, “because I don’t like hiring young kids like you, only to send you home to your mamas in a body bag… which I have done, several time. So why don’t you just take your nice suit and your resume, and just go on home and forget you were here.” Donald took in another puff of ash and turned the seat of his chair around to look out the window into the streets of Nashville.

“No!” Reinhold yelled. “I need this job! I can do whatever it is you want me to do! I’m really desperate for something! I’ve already been fired from the last three jobs, and no one is taking me seriously anymore!” He slapped his hands over his mouth, realizing he may have said just a bit too much.

He expected Donald to get up and throw him out of the room, but instead heard the smallest of chuckles come from the chair.

“Don’t get me wrong, kid,” Donald laughed. “I got nothing against you. And if you want me to be honest, your little sob story isn’t the worst I’ve heard. I’m a guy in my sixties, young man. I’ve been in this line of business for over three decades, with the same job, and same title, and even still half the same employees. Someone like you begging for a job isn’t new to me.” A trail of smoke slowly snaked up into the air as he continued to chuckle at Reinhold. “I want you to leave because this is a job that isn’t meant for everyone. It really isn’t as exciting as the public would lead you to believe, and has a tendency to warp most of the people who stay on.”

Reinhold could feel that lump forming again. He ignored it, and instead opted for a calming breath. “I don’t care. I need this job. So whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.”

The chair began to rock back and worth slowly as the sunlight coming in through the windows faded away as an overpass took over.

“Would you risk your life?”

Reinhold felt a chill run up his spine. Why would someone even ask a question like that? He knew the job he was interviewing for, but it was still strange to hear such a question out loud from anyone.

“I know what I’m getting into,” Reinhold squeaked through the lump in his throat. “I’ve seen the news reports and the investigations on TV, and I’ve even researched some of the stuff you guys try to cover up. I know you guys aren’t easy to work for. Just teach me how to use a gun and I’ll be fine.”

Donald stood up from his seat and shook his head. “It’s a little more involved then that, and most of those media exposes are about our rival companies, but I see that you’re at least committed.” He then walked around his desk and offered his free hand to the boy. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt though. Welcome to Novel Corp.”

The lump disintegrated in Reinhold’s throat, and was replaced with sudden joy and relief. He smiled and took the man’s hand, squeezing down hard and shaking it. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” he exclaimed with excitement. “I promise you, I’m gonna be the best damn employee you ever had.”

“I doubt it,” Donald puffed with a wink, “but you’ll at least be useful for now as a paper pusher and an on-site investigator. Maybe we can teach you some minor medical training. I know Suki’s been needing extra help lately.”

“D-d-definitely!” Reinhold stuttered. Filling out real paper work for Novel Corp.? Going to investigate the on site disturbances when required? Learning how to save lives? It all seemed like some wonderful fantasy. It was the kind of job that a person saw in the movies and wished they could have. True, it seemed like the same kind of training and work he could have received if he had joined the army, but this was Novel Corp.! He had to know, “When do you want me to start?”

Donald smiled, and secured his cigarette between his teeth. “Right now.”

In a flash of his hand, the man pulled something metal out of his pocket and placed the barrel of it right in Reinhold’s belly. He pulled the trigger twice, the sound muffled by a silencer, and the flash covered by the young man’s clothes. He pulled the pistol away immediately after firing, letting the smoke clash together with his cigarette.

All Reinhold felt was something painful entering his body, and the force sending him back. But he only fell back slightly before he was pulled forward. He was still shaking Donald’s hand. His sight looked down and found two small holes in his clothes, a tiny tendril of gun smoke spitting up from one of them. His body went limp as the shock began to set in, and as his vision went black, he only then realized that maybe… just maybe… that job he was offered at the Burger and Stuff hadn’t been such a bad offer after all.

A woman came into the office a moment later to collect the lifeless body. She took Reinhold by dragging him away via his underarms, as Donald remained standing in the same place, puffing on his ever dying cigarette. When it was almost gone, he spit it out onto the tile floor, and stamped it with his foot. He then went back to his desk and disposed of the surveillance photos.

End of Part One…

#Ing's stories #writing #contemporary fantasy #horror

2 notes · View notes

fifty-shades-of-succ · 7 years

Note

Questions 1-154 please?

Full name - Ebony M

Zodiac sign - Libra

3 Fears - Snakes, the ocean, rejection

3 things I love - ma lads, sport and video games

4 turns ons - beaming smile thats full of emotion and joy, eyes, being respectful and having manners, and being funny as fuck

4 turns offs - lack of hygeine, sexist, dull as a doorknob, racist

My best friend - I cant choose the closest out of them but Cal or Luke

Sexual orientation - its an utter mystery

My best first date - Cruise ship in hawaii with just Ally and Erich

How tall am I - 165cm

What do I miss  - Year 10

What time were I born  - 22:22

Favourite colour - Black purple and orange

Do I have a crush  - YA

Favourite quote  - The mask you wear serves its purpose well, but be careful not to lose yourself in it.

Favourite place  - My house when I’m home alone. Or anywhere where my best friends are

Favourite food  - Pasta

Do I use sarcasm  - Yeah I do just not as much as I used to

What am I listening to right now  - .....Lazy town ‘We are number one’ Dank version

First thing I notice in new person  - Smile and eyes

Shoe size  - Anywhere from a 6-8

Eye colour  - Grey

Hair colour  - Rn its a lil purple/red, but naturally its brown

Favourite style of clothing  - uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh idk

Ever done a prank call?  - Yeah, I think so

What colour of underwear I’m wearing now?  BLACK

Meaning behind my URL  - who fuckin knows

Favourite movie  - Kingsman, or the breakfast club

Favourite song  - Heartbeat, or Electric Love

Favourite band  - I dont reeeaally have one but maybe Bastille?

How I feel right now  - Great

Someone I love  - my friends

My relationship with my parents  - SHITTY AS ALL FUCk

Favourite holiday  - Hawaii

Tattoos and piercings?  - None, except a piercing in each ear lobe

Tattoos and piercing i want  - None

The reason I joined Tumblr  - Everyone said to

Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?  Yea!!

Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?  Nope

When did I last hold hands?  Uh....cant remember

How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?  Hmm..an hour and a bit usually, maybe an hour and a half

Have I shaved your legs in the past three days?  I dont shave, I wax

Where am I right now?  In bed

If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me?  Cal and Kenzie probably, they did a good job of it at the deb after party hahahaha

Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?  Depends

Do I live with my Mom and Dad?  Through the week, my father, but on the weekend both

Am I excited for anything?  Running seshs with friends, a party with the meme friends and then a outing I have with my best friend

Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?  Yea

How often do I wear a fake smile?  Always when Im around people I dont trust :)

When was the last time I hugged someone?  Today

What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me?  Never kissed really

Is there anyone I trust even though I should not?  Yeah definitely.

What is something I disliked about today?  One small thing went bad and everything I’ve been suppressing hit me at once

If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?  My soulmate

What do I think about most?  Love i guess

What’s my strangest talent?  I can text extremely fast without looking at the screen

Do I have any strange phobias?  Uh the ocean I guess

Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? Both are equal

What was the last lie I told?  Nah I’m totally chill with my evening plans being ruined

Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?  Video chatting

Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?  Both, yes

Do I believe in magic? Nah

Do I believe in luck?  Yea

What’s the weather like right now?  Uhhh cold

What was the last book I’ve read?  The second CHERUB book

Do I like the smell of gasoline?  What

Do I have any nicknames?  Ebs, m9, fam, chocolat THUN-DA #catinthehat

What was the worst injury I’ve ever had?  Smashed my head open on the playground in year 1

Do I spend money or save it?  I save it

Can I touch my nose with a tongue?  No

Is there anything pink in 10 feets from me?  Yeah, my toucan lamp!

Favourite animal?  Owl! Or toucan!!

What was I doing last night at 12 AM?  Watching the avengers with a friend

What do I think is Satan’s last name is?  Uh lol skip

What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?  Electric love, out of my league

How can you win my heart?  Being nice and complimenting me on everything and talking to me properly

What would I want to be written on my tombstone?  ‘We are number one *DROP IT*’

What is my favourite word  - Soup, vanilla, crunch

My top 5 blogs on tumblr  - @dont-drop-your-ascots @u-wanna-go-m9 @you-was-only-for-yourself @setheverman and then any Danganronpa blogs

If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?  BE FUCKIN NICE! AND MATURE!

Do I have any relatives in jail?  No

I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?  Teleportation or pretty much a glass or neon conduit

What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? 

What is my current desktop picture?  Lots of corny love quote shit

Had sex?  No

Bought condoms?  No

Gotten pregnant?  No

Failed a class?  No

Kissed a boy?  No

Kissed a girl?  No

Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain?  No

Had job?  Hehehehe had job. No

Left the house without my wallet?  Yea

Bullied someone on the internet?  No

Had sex in public?  No

Played on a sports team?  Yea

Smoked weed?  No

Did drugs?  No

Smoked cigarettes?  No

Drank alcohol?  Like a sip

Am I a vegetarian/vegan?  No

Been overweight?  No

Been underweight?  Yes

Been to a wedding?  Yes

Been on the computer for 5 hours straight?  Every day

Watched TV for 5 hours straight?  Yeah

Been outside my home country?  Yes

Gotten my heart broken?  Yes

Been to a professional sports game?  Yes

Broken a bone?  No

Cut myself?  Yes

Been to prom?  Well Deb is the equivalent so yea

Been in airplane?  Yes

Fly by helicopter?  Yes

What concerts have I been to?  owl city!!

Had a crush on someone of the same sex?  No

Learned another language?  Yes

Wore make up?  Yes

Lost my virginity before I was 18?  No

Had oral sex?  No

Dyed my hair?  Yes

Voted in a presidential election?  No

Rode in an ambulance?  No

Had a surgery?  No

Met someone famous?  I dont think I have

Stalked someone on a social network?  Heheheheh yes

Peed outside?  Uhhhh hasnt everyone??

Been fishing?  Yes

Helped with charity?  Yes

Been rejected by a crush?  Every time

Broken a mirror?  Yes

What do I want for birthday?  A vacation or a proper pc or a proper set of headphones

How many kids do I want and what will be their names?  None

Was I named after anyone?  No

Do I like my handwriting?  No

What was my favourite toy as a child? Beanie kids

Favourite Tv Show?  Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Where do I want to live when older?  Melbourne

Play any musical instrument?  No

One of my scars, how did I get it?  I fell out of bed and smashed my eyebrow on the bedside table

Favourite pizza toping?  Bacon

Am I afraid of the dark?  Yes

Am I afraid of heights?  A little

Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?  Yea tot he second, no to the first

Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end? Every time

What I’m really bad at  - Maths

What my greatest achievements are  - IT games programming award and Cisco award (hehehehe)

The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me  - Essentially ‘you’re the reason everything is bad’, and ‘you will never be seen as pretty or acceptable for anyone’

What I’d do if I won in a lottery  - bank half and give one quarter of it to my family and then the other quarter to charity

What do I like about myself  - I can sometimes be funny

My closest Tumblr friend  - @dont-drop-your-ascots

Something I fantasise about my ex - idk

Thanks for the ask! I CANNOT BE BOTHERED TO BOLD IT ALL thanks lads

2 notes · View notes

likeadiamondfrost · 8 years

Text

Jan. Challenge #1

At Face Value: Full Name: Emma Grace Frost My name means “whole” or “universe.” Nicknames: Em [ she only allows certain people this] Frosty, Frosty-Flakes, Snowflake, Auntie Emma, Elsa [ she hates this] Birthdate: July 14, 1993 Birthplace: Boston, Massechuettes. Age: 23. Nationality: American Race: White Astrological Sign + Traits: Cancer: dominating, loyalty, suspicious, manipulative, cultured Hair color: Naturally light brunette, died religiously platinum blonde Eye color: Crystal clear Blue Prominent features: cheekbones Skin tone: Fair Bleshish, Distinguishing Marks or Scars?: Birthmark on her right shoulder, the size of a pin head, she covers with makeup. Build/Body Type: Tall and athletic; modelesque Height: 5′ 10″ Weight: 128 lbs Speech Patterns: Elevated diction, clear enunciation. Received Pronunciation [RP] accent adopted from her father and mother. (hels is just too lazy to write accents) Tag words: Darlings, blood hell Strengths: quick thinking, strategist, great conversationalist, flirtatious, brutally honest when she needs to be. Weaknesses: cold and distant, detaches from emotional problems, fear of falling/heights. Her need to help the little guy.

The questions What is your character’s name? Emma Grace Frost. Unlike her two sisters, Emma’s only nickname is Em, and it was bestowed on her by Christian and adopted by those who are closest to her. She won’t allow anyone she doesn’t trust and let in fully call her Em. Hazel Frost chose the name for it’s classical link to literature, which just so happened to be her favorite novel growing up, and regal connotation it commanded. Winston didn’t care what she was named, only that she not be named something stupid or famous for the era. Her name derives from the Germanic word: ermen meaning “whole” or universe. For the most part, Emma’s name plays no part in her story, but she’s contemplative whether the connotations with Emma have shaped her outlook on a thing.

How old is your character? Emma is 23, born July 14, 1993. She’s a third-year grad student at SHIELD having completed her undergraduate degree at E.S.U [Empire State University]. She looks a bit older than 23, but not by much. Being a telepath, Emma certainly knows more someone at her age should, in multiple areas. With multiple degrees under her belt and a little-transferred knowledge from Shaw, Winston, Edmund Buckman, and more she’s certainly got enough to create a mental library to pick from.

What does your character look like? Emma looks uncannily like Amber heard. She’s 5’ 10” and in heels—which let’s be real she wears every day she can—she’s over 6’. Emma has fair skin with pink undertones to it, upon her right shoulder she has a small almost unnoticeable birthmark. Her hair is to her shoulders now, dyed platinum blonde religiously as to avoid roots, usually with some wave or styled in some way that is in trend now. Her eyes are baby blue, though in some lights they take on a grey hint. Emma has been size 1-2 in pants since maturity and thanks to her diets and rigorous workouts that don't seem to be changing anytime soon

How does your character dress? During her youth, Emma wore a uniform daily but was very much aware of the world of fashion thanks to her sister Adrienne. She often took her hand-me-downs that Adrienne discarded after her modeling gigs. Emma wasn’t as picky as her sister though and took to wearing anything she could after her uniform from her school. It was a learning experience to watch her sister dawn lavish gowns and fur coats, come home with the latest designer handbag or better yet a whole line of clothing. Though in early childhood Emma shied away from being too revealing, feeling more ugly duckling that graceful swan, the invaluable lesson to look good and feel good was ingrained inside her. As she developed into a teenager, Emma took more time in her appearance taking after her eldest sister.

After her time in the Hellfire Club, Emma’s conservative nature was broken and replaced with higher confidence in herself and her body thus the more revealing clothing. On her days to class, Emma can be seen wearing the latest trends from jumpers to off the shoulder crop tops and jeans [some designer some bought off the rack at a 75% sale]. When she attends board meetings and such, Emma can be spotted in designer dresses or white slacks and some colored [or white] top and blazer. Never a pantsuit as those are far too 80s for her. When she's lazy, Emma is almost always in some shirt that falls off her shoulder and a pair of shorts or depending on the weather something comfortable. As of late, she can be seen sporting a pair of sweats swiped from her dare, or her cheer shorts. If Emma is attending any sort of event like a party, she almost always dresses in something tight and revealing, skin and high priced jewelry are keys. If she were to attend another wedding, she would opt for something more conservative, and not white, something that doesn’t reveal too much of her cleavage and falls to just above or below her knee. Emma’s sense of style come from the fact that she is always dressing to impression, always striving to be flawless and impeccable, but she never forgets her confidence. The way she dresses is an extension of her personality in a way—dominating and controlled—and when Emma Frosts leaves the house you can bet she doesn’t give a damn what you think. Her clothing then by definition make her feel good, empowered and as Emma’s learned is a tool to get what she wants when she wants it. While her closet is full of many colors, it’s about 75%, White.

What are some notable relationships your character has? Emma’s life is riddled with significant relationships. From her favorite school teacher: Mister Ian Kendell to people at SHIELD it’s a broad range of things.

The first and foremost coming from her family. Emma’s relationship with Hazel and Winston is estranged at best. Though she used to be the loving daughter, upon her mutant developing did it become clear to her who exactly her parents were, though her revelation with Hazel didn’t come until later. Emma has without a doubt Hazel had the same level of contempt for her children that she did Winston. It was a tolerable situation, one she was passive in rather that active. That doesn’t mean she didn’t love Emma or her siblings. Winston Frost’s opinion of his children deals solely with their usefulness, Emma proving to be the most attuned to his mindset over her sisters and brother she was his bright pupil. The one who was meant to inherit the title and business. For a while, Emma played along until it became more than obvious she was simply a pawn to Winston, he didn’t actually care about her. Her relations with her sister fell into the same disrepair as with Winston. Adrienne being the first but not the last person Emma learned to hate. Later on when she learned how manipulative Adrienne had become Emma’s distaste for her only grew. Cordelia, on the other hand, was a different story. The two were at odds far less than Emma and Adrienne, but as they matured, it became that Cordelia’s behavior was shaped by being the rebellious daughter and the reason—without a doubt in Emma’s mind that Christian fell into drugs. It put a damper on their relationship, though Emma still talks to her sister on occasion sending a card of “well wishes” or something generic of the sort but hasn’t spoken to her since Adrienne’s funeral. Christian, was the expectation to everything. He was her closest friend growing up, someone she felt comfortable talking to about everything, except her mutation. It put a strain on their relationship immensely, and in her attempt to help him Emma lost the only person she was closest to in her family. And to this day can’t…forgive herself for letting Winston manipulator her and his admission into Snow Valley Mental Hosptial--which she would later in life attend as well.

The next, and probably the most important relationships are the ones that shaped Emma, her ambitions, drives and more important her “tastes” are the multitudes of boyfriends. Beginning with Ian Kendell. Ian was the first to show faith in Emma’s brains and ability to be more than she saw herself. While the other girls teased her mercilessly and her family care for nothing but perfection, Ian as she later called him, was helping her and encouraging her. During the delicate time in her life just at the peak of maturity when her telepathy was beginning Emma found Ian’s hopeful kindness the light at the end of the tunnel. As the two began to spend more and more time together, Emma’s school girl crush blossomed, and it was Ian who made the first move—mentally of course. Emma, being Emma and growing in confidence as her powers developed made the first move kissing Mister Kendell on her front porch after he’d graciously given her a ride home. To say she always had unresolved feelings for Ian would be an understatement. After he was forced to leave her school—at the words of Winston how was a huge donor to the school’s financial department—Emma moved on with her life. Reuniting when she graduated early and began attending ESU. Dating her college roommate Christie, Ian had found a job as a counselor to the students. And just like being struck by lightning, Emma’s old buried feelings resurfaced. When Christie and Ian broke up, due to what Emma would later find out to be Astrid’s doing, Emma and Ian began to have a relationship. It became apparent to Emma that Ian loved her and she reciprocated the feelings foolheartedly. It was the first after Troy that made Emma lose her guards. When Ian’s job was put in jeopardy due to his pervious and current relationships, Emma used her telepathy to control Christie’s testimony and have the charges dropped. Unwilling to keep secrets between her and Ian, Emma told Ian she was a mutant. She expected understanding and love, the only thing Ian had ever shown her. Instead, she was met with hatred and heartbreak. The words: “You’re a monster” are one she’ll never forget. To this day, Emma has learned her lesson of opening up to people, to letting them see the real and very vulnerable Emma Frost. Ian is the primary reason Emma doesn’t do long term relationships anymore, and the main reason she believes everyone will ultimately leave her. Tory. After Emma had graduated high school, she set her sights on New York. After years of being Winston’s personal telepathy, Emma turned down his generous offer to be the next in line to take the company and all it’s worth, Emma packed her bags and left. Multimillion dollar inheritance was all but forgotten. Being in a strange city, and still grappling with her telepathy, Emma found that she could—if she concentrated enough—trick people into giving her what she wanted. After dining in a high-class restaurant, Emma was discovered on the video camera. Forced to pick between washing dishes and jail, Emma complied never having washed a single dish in her life, much to the amusement of the busboy Troy. The two became fast friends and soon, Emma and he were living together in a small studio apartment a quick walk from their work. And for once, Emma thought things would end out okay. She should have known better. After learning that Tory owed a drug dealer money, Emma offered to tag along at his casino excursion to help him win the money to pay back his debt. Unfortunately for them, time was not on their side. While Emma was convincing Troy she could really help, more so than being a good luck charm, collectors had come. Hearing their thoughts just in time, Emma was able to give Tory and her a head start, but fate had other plans. Catching up with them, Emma and Tory were beaten and held captive. After explaining he didn’t have the money, and he could Tory’s life dangled in peril. Scared and battling the onslaught of voices in her head, Emma was no use. After bargaining for his life at gunpoint, Tory told the dealer that Emma came from a wealthy family. Not in means of helping them both, but because he was trying to save his own skin. Finding no use for Tory, Emma while gagged and caged, witnessed his death. It’s a memory that still haunts her. It was the first, but not the last time Emma would see someone’s death.

Even though she might not have come into her own until later on in life, Emma grew up beside several others including Charles Xavier, Warren Worthington III, and Tony Stark. The two latter were a point of character building. They were Emma’s solace during her time in the Frost Manor as the three banded together and alongside a few other wealthy family children created the #richkidclub. Beginning with her on again off again relationship with Warren Worthington, Emma found that she rather liked defying her father and Warren was the perfect excuse to do so. When they first began dating, Emma was mousy and quiet but soon came into her own. The two were inseparable. Showing up at all the parties hosted by people in both their schools, galas, charity balls for the families. It never failed that alongside Tony, the two could be seen getting into some trouble for stealing a bottle of champagne to drink on the roof to partying in one of their yachts. When it became apparent to Emma that Warren had the heart of a playboy, she and he called it quits only to start back up again when it was convenient for both of them. And while Emma might have loved Warren, the two were better off as fuckbuddies than actual partners, much to the happiness of Worthington II. With Warren, Emma experienced a lot and even learned that she was the type to stray given the right circumstances—meaning she’d been unable to think of a way of getting out of some Hellfire business. Though it was the first and last time, she ever did. It was with Warren that Emma found a liking for adventure and sexuality. Warren was the first real relationship, outside of the Hellfire Club Emma had while she was a dancer there and the last before she moved to Iowa. Tony Stark, is a very different type of person. Emma’s on again off again relationship with Tony had a bit more substance than the flings she had with Warren. She cares, still to this day, about Tony but knows her on again off again relationship with him and Warren was a spot of friction between the two. When she wasn’t draped on Warren’s arm or tangled in his bed, Emma was with Tony until she left New York. The two were inseparable for a while, and Emma often turned to Tony when her family became unbearable over the long breaks from ESU. For a while, Emma had even pictured being married Tony, but it became apparent that some things just weren’t for her. When they broke off, Emma and he stayed friends and even rekindled a bit of their romance during the first semester at SU. These two relationships are what defined Emma’s life after Troy, and helped define who she was as she discovered herself in the Hellfire Club and in New York. She finds them comforting and unlike her pervious relationships don’t end in heartbreak and horror.

Emma’s best friend, oddly enough, is Tiberius Stone. The two had a rocky start with her slapping him and calling bullshit on his anti-mutant hate when he didn’t know what was going on. The two are now thick as thieves. They enjoy their TLC nights and quietly—not so quiet really—judging people together. Emma would do anything to make sure Ty is in her life and to protect him. She would probably commit murder if needed. She was willing to do it the moment his powers were discovered, and he was thrown into the very cells that she had been locked into. It was a turning point in their relationship and one she keeps in mind. She's there for him for girl talk and her new favorite ritual TLC nights and knows if she finds herself in yet another bad ending relationship at least someone will let her be emotional without judgment.

Sebastian Shaw and Emma’s relationship is complex as is it intertwined. Beginning as her first friend at the Hellfire Club, Emma took a strong liking to Sebastian. Though the two frequently didn’t work close to each other, as Emma was busy on the stage and Sebastian with Buckman, the two found time to talk with each other on her breaks when she wasn’t off entertaining on of the clubs many wealthy members. Sebastian was Emma’s first real taste of the world of craft and elegant manipulation. Shaw was the first person to see Emma for who she was now in the world and help her develop her view on mutant rights. As they got to know each other, Emma developed a crush on Sebastian, and after he initially turned her down, Emma was rather cool toward him. She’s not one to take rejection lightly. Though she softened up toward him again, working her way in his good graces once again. After overthrowing Buckman, the two grew quite close and though at time Sebastian became possessive of Emma—her being his white queen and right hand—the two shared a causal relationship. That didn’t mean Emma didn’t love Sebastian as they grew closer, finding a kinship and likeness in the darker side of the world. Upon her death and the misguiding of Selene, Emma’s faith in Sebastian faltered, but as she stands now, Emma follows him. She knows every queen is nothing without a king and vice versa. And Sebastian has yet to prove to her otherwise.

Astrid Bloom is and will always be Emma’s first milestone marker. Astrid was many things to Emma and continues to be many things though the two haven’t talked or seen each other in years. Starting off as Emma’s friend and mentor, Astrid was the first telepath, besides Charles, Emma had met. While she and Charles always did thing the proper way, Astrid taught Emma control. Emma felt a bond with Astrid she hadn’t felt before, and in a way Emma loved her like a sister. The two grew close and what Emma believed to be her best friend quickly turned into possession and manipulation. Astrid had been behind Emma’s back sabotaging all of Emma’s other relationships at ESU. From having a sweet boy named Max to lose his mind and strike Emma to manipulating the board and Kristy to get Ian to lose his job, Astrid was behind. When Emma found out and confronted Astrid in their dorm. What should have been the end, turned into Emma being trapped in the girl’s psyche while Ian’s trial was held. For the next part, Emma has nothing but praise for Astrid. Without her mind and her psyche, Emma would have never learned the things she did. And learn she did. Emma found a way out of Astrid’s mind, and in turn dragged the woman into her own mind where she locked the door and threw away the key. Leaving her comatose, Emma left Astrid to be found by campus EMTs and moved to right the wrong she’d done to Ian.

Over her lifetime, Emma Frost has made enemies of many people. She knows that her personality and way of going about things that don't make her privy to gaining many friends. And she’s okay with that, protecting those she cares about with a fierceness.

What is in your character’s memory? Being a telepath, Emma is able to vividly remember a lot of things, store it and recall it within in seconds. A trick she picked up muddling around Astrid’s psyche. The most vivid of course comes from the moments that happened to shape the woman she is today: her first dance, Winston’s betrayal, The Clinic, Troy’s death, Ian’s rejection, meeting Shaw, the first time she saw a dead body. She’s burned those into her memory as to never forget what she’s been through and what she’ll continue to go through all her life because she’s ‘different.'

Though she remembers most things, Emma has blocked out the harder to swallow moments of her life. She hasn’t severed the memory, but she’s diluted it enough it feels foreign to her. These are only a handful of moments: What the orderlies did to her, the feel of their hands among other things on her at the Clinic, the miscarriage, and Tory’s death are all the top of the list.

Emma’s memories begin at the age of 6. She remembers playing school in her room while Winston had some meeting downstairs. She, Christian, Adrienne, and Cordelia had been running through the halls when they’d bumped into one of their mother’s priceless vases. It had shattered and disrupted Winston’s deal. Winston never hit his children more than needed, and Emma remembers each of them being too scared to say anything or cry out. It’s one of many unpleasant memories she has with her family. Though Emma has been conditioned enough to say to the press that Winston was a role model.

Her memories with her friends are much different. She can remember the first-time Tony, Warren and she snuck away during a winter gala, a few stolen bottles of champagne between them. She remembers the giggles the first time, prim and proper Emma had tasted champagne. The feel of it on both their lips as they played spin the bottle with a few other mischievous kids who’d found them sitting in one of the offices. She remembers the time they were on Warren’s yacht, and someone had pushed some kid overboard, but they were far too drunk to do anything but laugh, it had been Warren who’d rescued him. Though many of these memories are happy, there are few not so happy in the mix. The most recent being her fight with Tony over her powers.

While Emma might have an excellent memory, she tends to make sure things are wrapped up, and there are no loose ends when she moves on to bigger things. While Emma might remember certain faces and names, they only remember what she wants them to remember, and thus never leaves any stones unturned. It’s a habit she developed with Shaw to ensure her powers and identity as a mutant were kept secret.

Where does your character live? Emma’s lives several places throughout her life. The first being Frost Manor, in Boston. Frost Manor was the epitome of what one expects from a wealthy family. Three stories, too many rooms to count at a young age. Grand kitchen, several dining rooms- one formal used for nightly family dinners, parlors, offices, library, long winding drive, grand entrance. Located in the high society part of town, Frost Manor was situated on acres of land the nearest building being a good 15 minutes from the grounds in the gated community. For the most part, the community was conservative 1% and almost always Winston’s business partners.

In New York, Emma had a loft in Manhattan. With one wall filled with floor to ceiling windows, she had a fantastic view over the city below her. Clean and modern in style, Emma made sure things were exactly as she see fit and it shows her. Its community was pretty diverse, and many didn’t know she was a sex worker on the side of being CEO, but that was neither here nor there. For the most part, Emma stayed to herself, a friendly hello or exchange in the halls but for the most part. She never entertained gentlemen or club members at her loft, it was strictly off limits. Keeping a part of it to herself and only herself. It became a rule for her. Unless she knew them like Warren, Tony or Sebastian Emma never allowed those two things to cross.

When she moved to Iowa and was forced to live in dorms. Emma took the opportunity to 1) make sure she didn’t have a roommate for the first year 2) makes sure that all the needed things are taken care of. At the expense of her wallet, Emma made sure she had the best of the best. And the included finding a way to block out the noise of the students. It’s not fool proof, but she’s still in search of something that keeps her from going insane in her head. Now that she’s in the co-ed dorm, Emma is about keeping her door closed. Whereas before she never locked her bedroom dorm, she had it to herself after all. She doesn’t care she’s sharing with two males, she’s perfectly okay co-habituating with them, but she has a feeling it’s going to be trying in the future. And yes, she wishes she was back in New York. She doesn’t and sometimes can’t fall asleep with the quiet the campus offers and often spends those hours in her bed working on her powers or bouncing from head to head.

What is your character’s room like? Contrary to popular belief, Emma’s bedroom is not all white. It’s impractical. Though the walls a white, as is her frosted glass desk, but the bed, closet doors, and wood floors are dark wood. Her style is very modern as one can see through the platform style queen-size bed pushed up against the wall that is across from the window (with storage for out of season clothing and shoes underneath), wood and glass closet doors, complete with organizers that keep everything neat. Her attached bathroom is like the others: modern in style. With white fluffy towels and white rug and her bathrobe hung in precisely the right spot. Her time with Astrid as a roommate taught her to be organized and yet lived in. After a long hard day, a few items of clothing can be seen see across the floor, heels at the inside of the door instead of putting away.

For the most part, Emma’s closet it always full of clothing, high priced and some sales rack discounts, neatly hunt and sorted by item of clothing rather than color. Her shoes hang in a shoe organizer or on the shoe rack at the base of the closet. Though it’s small because what dorm closet is big? Emma has taken the liberty of using the spare room in her shared dorm for clothing she doesn’t often wear—like summer outfits in the winter—regardless of what Alex or Tony think or care.

What is your character good at? Emma would like to think she’s perfect at everything, but that’s not always the case. Being a telepath Emma is very well adept at reading people. It comes from quiet observations during his childhood as well as her psychotherapy training more so than being in their heads, though it certainly helps. Emma was never particularly overly smart, school wise, though the development of her telepathy helped that area immensely. She was, however, smart in another way. Emma was able to, like in chess, see the way piece and areas moved together. This was a talent that Winston first manipulated and was proud to see in his daughter. It’s the trait he wished all his children had, but Emma was the only one to act on it accordingly and wisely. Being able to do such things is also what draw Emma to Shaw. She at his side learned how to craft that ability into a skill and talent. Over the years, she’s learned to make it her own of course and its one of those skills she find she needs in every given situation. Emma was always excellent at commanding the attention of a room, this came about the older she got and the less time she spent being mousy at home and with her siblings. She likes to give the credit to Tony and Warren among others in their little group for bringing that out in her. While she was certain more bookworm than an athlete, Emma excelled in her fencing lessons and equestrian training, without the use of her telepathy. Always been more physically inclined than her sisters. She took an interest in the latter as it was one thing she and Christian did together. Them and no one else. Foreign languages, due in part because of her telepathy, also come very easy to Emma and by now speaks over thirty languages fluently. Her favorite, of course, being French and Italian.

What does your character want? Emma wants a lot of things in life. Always have and perhaps always will. But Emma’s driving force is her want to do something meaningful with her life and help others. She doesn’t want to be the next Winston in the world where all she does is to benefit for her and her alone. It’s what drove her to choose education and psychology as majors at ESU, later obtaining her master in psychotherapy at a rapid pace and it’s what drives her to want to help mutant kind now. While her methods of going about it haven’t always been morally correct, the end results have never altered. Emma Frost at her core wants to contribute to the world and make it better for mutants. Whether it be teaching, leading a team, protecting them when they don’t want her defending, brokering backroom deals Emma Frost has never, in her life, lost sight of that. It’s become clearer to her, as she’s aged and even more so recently, that her passion for teaching, to be that force in someone's life is still very much a goal of hers. What good is having money, having power and control if all she does it waste it on furiously things. She’s always dreamed of opening her own school. One exclusive to mutants. A place where they can train, learn and grow as a community rather than ostracized in mixed company or selected as the next scapegoat.

It’s from this that Emma’s want for mutant rights comes from. To see to it that, though they’re superior and different from humans, they are no less human and worth the same. It comes as no surprise to her or others how far Emma is willing to take things to see her goal through. She has, after all, died for mutant rights and activism. Has died to make a difference in the world and would gladly do it again if it meant a change for her people. She has no qualms about using people, manipulating situations, brokering shady contracts and other such immoral things to see that what needs to be done is done. In short, Emma will stop at nothing to make it a dream, even if she knows that for every step forward they take humans will always fear them. And in that case, Emma would be more than willing to get even and prove just how big a mistake that is to anyone who stands in her way.

While her primary goal might be the help, Emma’s learned over the year this goal has been tainted by the want to be accepted and if not loved. She chalks this up to the lack of love she experienced as child and daddy issues, but it remains that unlike others Emma has never been able to fully say she is loved. That someone sticks around. It’s not something that she expresses or cares about (openly) because she finds it’s silly and stupid to base one’s desires and ambitions on something like love and acceptance, but she’s come to realize, more recently especially at SU, how profoundly influencing that can be when she’s making choices. Then again who doesn’t wish and hope to be loved in their life? Especially given her relationship with love and emotions it comes to no surprise to her that this is something that motivates her. She’s found that when she loves, she loves ferociously and falls fast—even if it’s only one-sided—and protects them with everything she can offer. While it might not be easy for her open, Emma tends to be more honest and more forthcoming with people she cares about. She feels guilt and questions herself more as well. She would willing put herself in harm’s way if it meant someone she cared about was save in the process. [ Examples: Halloween Dance 2015. Punching Logan in the face, Cure Plot 2016.]

What does your character do when they’re not at home? Mainly when Emma is out with her friends, she is usually in their dorm room or having coffee and at the campus bar. Nothing overtly fancy. When she’s out by herself, Emma tends to find ways to avoid people and thus the constant banging of thoughts against her head. This includes running, working out in the danger room/rec center, meditating, gardening, horseback riding and spending time curled up in bed with a book or Netflix.

She’s never been religious, always saying she’s an atheist because she’s learned that if there ever was a god he certainly didn’t care enough to notice what was going on in life, and thus doesn’t attend church. She doesn’t understand the process of those who do but allows them to believe what they wish as long as it doesn’t impact her life she could care less.

What does your character like to do? Emma has always loved horseback riding. Even as a young girl it was her favorite activity. She can’t explain the draw of spending time with horses or the calmness it causes in her. Perhaps it’s the reminder of when things in her life weren’t so messed up, or perhaps it’s the idea that such a beautiful creature can be deadly and a force to be reckoned with. Beyond this Emma has a deep love dance and art. While she can’t draw to save her life—though she’s downloaded the information from Ciaran and others she knows –shes more into admiring artist at work and the product than making it. While she’s taken many dancing classes through her life, Emma’s favorite has always been ballet. She often as a child dreamed of being a ballerina but that quickly disappeared with age.

How does your character love? Emma’s always been more of an open relationship type of person, but somehow it always ends up being exclusive. Except for Warren, Emma typically dates one person and one along. She has always identified as female and straight, though she’s been known to experiment from time to time and has no qualms about others sexuality. This comes from the hellfire club and how she was known to entertain. Not all dignitaries and members were male. Either way, Emma’s consideration that looks are just as important as personality is titled more toward looks. While she’s not one to complain if the person of her affections happens to be below average in appearance but has a better personality. She’s shallow and mostly gravitates toward someone of handsome features rather than not.

Emma is a hard person to know in general. She’s closed off and cold because she’s learned from her past not to let anyone in. They leave. They hurt her, intentionally or not. But when she falls in love with someone she falls in love with them. It’s not coated with unrealistic ideals or expectations. Emma only ever expects—and foolishly lets herself believe—they’re going to be different than the last. For the first few moments that she realizes she’s in love, she knows it’s panic setting in instead of giddiness. Love means mistakes and getting sloppy. It means letting them in and seeing her at her most vulnerable and weak and accepting that she’s allowing them to see her as such. It means Emma Frost showing them the real, raw Emma without hiding something or pretending it’s a fluke. Most of the time, with few exceptions, Emma doesn’t act on her feelings. She doesn’t let it progress, like stomping out a flame. But there are exceptions to this rule. People who get past the cold and hard exterior. Individuals who make her wish she wasn’t how she is. Make her want to be better, to feel more openly. And then they leave, and she’s left feeling empty in a way she can’t explain. There’s only so many times a person can go through that before it begins to affect their outlook. And as of late, Emma has begun to realize that she will never be anyone’s first choice—nor has she ever been—and has come to accept that while she can have any many she desires for a night, she will never have someone beside her to last.

Because of this, Emma’s ideal partner doesn’t exist. She doesn’t spend nights daydreaming of her wedding, or who they’ll be. She doesn’t lie to herself like that.

While her romantic love life might not be so happy, Emma does loves platonically and just as fiercely. Unlike romantic love, Emma allows herself to express and feel this type of love. She showers those she loves, like Ty and Tony with gifts and things they might not need and spends most of her time with them to express it.

Regardless of how they feel about her, platonically or romantically, Emma is willing to do whatever she needs to or can to protect them and show them she cares. While it’s harder for her to open up, she has no problem proving she cares and making sure they are safe before going about her business. Emma is exceedingly vengeful as well. If someone or something hurts someone’s she loves there will, without failure, be fallout from her. And when it happens there is no spot in heaven, hell, or earth anyone can hide. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorn, has nothing on the wrath a Frost can rain down upon anyone who deserves it.

What will ultimately destroy your character? Emma Frost’s ego and personality are probably the worst things to happen to her. She is her own worst enemy. While, the tearing down when she’s left by yet another romantic interest, losing someone she cares about or being hurt, harm her, it’s her choice after these events that cause the most damage. She’s more likely to be reckless rather than rational and won’t let other’s influence her decisions or actions. Her ego, while she tends to keep it in check can and does get the better of her. Highly competitive, Emma strives to always be the best in the room—unless she knows she’s outmatched and then she settles for second best. The best example of this coming from the Cure Plot 2016, There really is no way to prevent it from happening, as one can’t battle themselves but Emma knows now more than ever if anything can bring a queen to her knees it’s her whims, ego, and the king.

Emma was her own demise, and nothing in the world can change that. The only thing that comes close is Sebastian Shaw. He’s the closest thing to someone important in her life, someone who hasn’t left yet. He is and might always be, the only man that Emma fears. Not because of brute strength but because he knows her too well. Knows just where the holes in her armor lie. Being open and honest with someone does that. While she trusts him, Emma can’t help but feel as of late that perhaps things will change and she’ll need to be ready for what’s to come. She doesn’t worry about this too much as they are on good terms but if the winds were to change, Emma would like to think that she can and would be able to bring him down. For she knows just as much about him as he does her. But physically isn’t a match for him. If this were to happen, Emma knows the end result would not stack in her favor. The results of losing Shaw as an ally would be disastrous in more than one way. There’s a good chance, though Emma would bounce back quickly, she’d sink into a slight depression—losing someone close can do that to even the mightiest of people. Shaw is the closest thing to family she has—nix Tony and her friends at SU—and is the only person who has seen Emma as Emma. Not as some force to be taken down, or as just a lover or the telepath with loose morals. It would be like losing a part of her. Her outlook on everything she’s ever done for and with Shaw would change, and the excuses that she doesn't see as excuses would cease. There would be a shift in everything she does, how she handles things, how she sees the world.

#[ inside the mind of a telepath: characterization ]#suchallenge1 #//i am not sorry #//DO NOT QUESTION MY DEVOTION OR LOVE FOR EMMA FROST. I WILL SHUT YOU DOWN #//this is like 6700 words read at your own risk

1 note · View note

thetiquettebitch · 5 years

Text

so like

What were you doing at 11 last night?

-Watching “The Circle” on Netflix.

Do you think you and your best friend will be friends in 10 years?

-What is this “best friend” concept you speak of?

What could you eat any day of the week and never get tired of?

-Cheese. lol.

What's the craziest thing you've done?

-I honestly don’t know.

Someone knocks on your window at 5am, what do you say?

-Well, first of all my bedroom window is on the second floor so freak TF out..either way freak out and have a heart attack!

Funniest thing that happened in the last 24 hours?

-lol I was brushing my teeth and meant to lean over into the sink to spit but instead just spit right where I was standing and almost got it on my clothes lol.

Do you have any plans for the weekend?

-No I’m a loser lol.

Would you change yourself for the person you love?

-If it meant positive, healthy changes for myself then yes I’d try my hardest.

Let me guess, your last incoming call was from the opposite sex?

-Guess again, my mom.

Would you kiss anyone you have texts from in your phone?

-I delete my texts almost as soon as I’m done with the convo.

Do you find drinking unattractive?

-If I did I would be a hypocrite.

When was the last time something bothered you?

-Idk. I guess a while now.

Do you know how to work a computer well??

-lmao who doesnt this day and age.

To who did you last give the finger to?

-people still do that?

Is it more common for you to follow your heart or your mind?

-its a mix of both.

Six months ago, can you remember who you liked, who was it?

-i didnt really ‘like’ anyone.

Do you like to hold hands?

-sure.

Anything embarrassing happen today?

-nope.

Would you ever go on a game show if you were offered?

-depends which show honestly.

What does your phone do when it receives a new text?

-jumps up and dances! it rings like every other phone haha.

Has anyone ever done mean things to you while you were sleeping?

-well damn i hope not.

Do you have someone of the opposite sex you can tell everything to?

-honestly, kindove.

Would you rather be at the beach or lake?

-the water is still nasty either way lol.

Last thing you spent money on?

-foot bath.

What are you doing after this?

-probably make a quesadilla and continue watching Stranger Things.

Your song of the week?

-”Diamonds” by The Boxer Rebellion.

Have you ever cried from being so mad?

-its almost the only reason i ever do cry.

Are you happy with the choices you've made?

-some, not all. im only human.

I bet you miss someone, huh?

-my late aunt.

Would you rather be forced to eat 100 bananas or 100 apples?

-cant i just put them both into the blender and make a smoothie??

Have you dated the person you texted last?

-No.

Is good grammar attractive?

-Oh hell yes. I love it.

Are you friends with the people you were friends with two years ago?

-yeah.

Is there anyone you know with the name Mike?

-yes.

What is today's date?

-January 14, 2020.

Who was the last person to call you baby?

-an ex.

Has anyone ever sang to you?

-Mhmmmm.

What is your favorite color?

-Pink.

What color are your eyes?

-Blue.

How tall are you?

-5′5 or so.

What do you have planned for tonight?

-Chillax.

If you could have one wish right now what would it be?

-For 3 more wishes ;)

When is your birthday?

-September 16th!

Do you want to get married and have children one day?

-I don’t honesty know anymore haha. I thought maybe marriage one day, but people these days are so sketchy. Never felt strongly about having children.

Who is the 9th contact in your phone?

-Too lazy to look.

Ever liked someone who treated you like crap?

-Everyone has at some point.

If you could spend more time with someone you used to be very close with, would you?

-YES. WITHOUT A DOUBT.

Could you go a day without eating?

-Easily and I have many times.

Did your parents force you to go to church or let you make the decision?

-We weren’t a religious family.

What are you excited for?

-Good question, hmmmm.

Did anyone see you kiss that last person you kissed?

-Naw.

Do you still talk to the person you last kissed?

-Yes I do.

Would you date an 18 year old at the age you are now?

-Ewww just seems too young. im 30 now. they arent mature enough.

What are you listening to now?

-”Ordinary World” - Duran Duran.

What woke you up today?

-My grandma talking loudly on the phone (nothing new there)

Would you take someone back if they cheated on you?

-Thats a hard topic. its all relative.

Have you ever dyed your hair?

-I just dyed it like, a month and a half ago and you cant even tell. :( my hair was brown and tried to dye it a medium blonde and only i could tell it was slightly lighter haha.

Who was the last person you have a missed call from?

-my uncle.

Where was your default picture taken?

-my bedroom.

How many windows are open on your computer?

-Just one.

Anything you really want?

-A million dollars?????? would be nice.

How many pillows do you sleep with?

-2 always at least.

Can you have more than one best friend?

-Of course.

What was last thing you drank?

-Sprite.

How many pets do you have?

-Just one. Coda my dog.

What do you like better: hot chocolate or hot apple cider?

-MMMMMMM. both are delicious.

Who last texted you?

-Brenda, my uncles girlfriend.

Who did you last text?

-Brenda back.

Do you know anyone whose pregnant?

-Yea?

What do you want right now?

-Again I refer back to the million dollars...hehehehe.

0 notes

let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Catch Me If You Can (17/?)

But then he came back and won the World Series.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/n: Everyone enjoying all of these post-season games? Even if your team has already lost like mine 🙈 Anyways, we’re back in London for one more chapter here and @resident-of-storybrooke is still the mvp for reading all of these words.

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |15 | 16 | 17 |

Tag list: @xellewoods @galaxyzxstark @eala-captian @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings

-/-

Emma can feel Killian’s nose nudging between her shoulder blades, his scruff scratching at her skin, and as good as it feels, she can’t help but curl further into her pillow and bring her knees up to her stomach, hoping that he’ll leave her alone so that she can sleep longer. So much longer. Jet-lag is a bitch, and she just wants to sleep forever. They don’t even get a day off when they get home, and just thinking about it has her dying.

Why in the world did she get sent over here when she’s only writing an article and doing social media stuff? Jeff should have come with her, Ruby too, but right now, she can’t really complain.

This bed is really soft.

London is wonderful.

Killian smells really good right now. He shouldn’t smell this good this early in the morning, and he probably got up to brush his teeth and put cologne on or something stupidly wonderful like that.

But she’s tired, and all she really wants is to sleep some more and for the pleasant ache between her thighs to lessen a bit so she won’t be thinking about it all day long. It’s a wonderful memory to have to think about as her day goes on, but still, a girl has got to be able to walk without her mind going to weird places.

The new phase of a relationship is so damn fun.

Sighing, she hugs her pillow more closely and keeps her eyes shut only for Killian to place the softest kiss in existence on the back of her neck that has the shiver multiplying its intensity by ten with each new vertebra that it reaches.

“Did you know that you are a kicker in your sleep?” he murmurs, his voice hoarse and gravely like it always is in the mornings. She really likes that. Like, really. “And that you are also a heat seeker, and I am in no way safe from your assault.”

“That sounds like a hard life,” Emma mumbles, still not bothering to open her eyes.

“The hardest. Do you know that we’ve only ever spent the night together in hotels? You’ve never even seen my bedroom. We somehow have never made it past the living room.”

“You’ve never seen mine.”

“True,” he sighs as his hand inches over her waist so that his nails can run over her stomach, making the muscles flutter. Or maybe those are the damn metaphorical butterflies. It doesn’t matter. “We should remedy that when we get home.” Home.

He means New York. He doesn’t mean his apartment or her apartment. He simply means the city they both happen to live in, but knowing that doesn’t change the way her heart is hammering in her chest, that residual feeling of being terrified that this is all going to blow up in her face still lingering. It’s not there as much as it used to be, some of the fear tampering down the more comfortable she becomes with Killian, but as old ones fade away, new ones emerge like one of those creepy aliens in movies.

Killian isn’t like Walsh or Neal or any of the people who have hurt her. Anyone with half-functioning eyes could see that, and it’s reaffirmed in how he supports her every day. He sends her articles she’s written in the past with little notes attached to them on what he thinks. Sometimes he shares links to YouTube videos of her interviews, asking her how she noticed the strategy they employed to win that day or simply complimenting her on thinking on her feet when she gets put in a tough situation. The only people who could possibly support her more are Ruth and David, but Killian is very much inching up to the top of the Emma Swan fan club.

He’d probably make t-shirts. Several. And wear them under all of his clothes, the dork.

Dark and broody but also dorky. That’s how she’d describe him if she had to in three words or less.

So she’s not worried that he’s going to demean her or belittle her or make her feel unworthy like she has felt in the past, but there are so many other ways for him to hurt her. Their relationship getting out, for one, could destroy her professional credibility, at least for a little while. That’s something she thinks about every time she sneaks out of her hotel room and into his. It’s ridiculous hard to find a time when someone isn’t in the hallway. But what if he’s secretly shitty in some kind of other way? What if he doesn’t continue to be so open and honest with her? What if he realizes that her hang-ups are too complicated? What if he realizes that he doesn’t want to be patient with her when she does have her freak outs? He’s so damn patient with her, always waiting for her to make the move before he does, and there’s no guarantee he won’t get tired of that.

Why is this the morning that she thinks about this?

Probably because the reality of them telling their friends and family is hitting her. It was her idea, the guilt of lying to everyone overwhelming her, but now the actuality is overwhelming her even more.

Last night, she told Killian that she would go to Addy’s birthday party under this insane plan that he has of them fake running into each other in the hallway, and the reality of meeting his family is kind of freaking her out. She’s never met a boyfriend’s family before, which was always such a blessing, and now she’s invading Killian’s niece’s birthday party.

Where his brother, who he absolutely admires in every way, will be, along with his wife and their kids and all of these other people who are important to Killian.

Emma wants to run. She knows that she does. Feelings overwhelm her, the feelings she has for Killian most of all, but she thinks she’d rather be overwhelmed by the happiness that he helps her feel rather than the anxiety.

The new phase of a relationship is fun but also terrifying.

“Are you inviting me over for a sleepover?” she finally asks, hoping that Killian can’t tell that she’s freaking out a little bit.

Killian hums into her neck, and she finally opens her eyes, the brightness of the sun shining through the curtains blurring everything for a moment. “I am. I can get you all kinds of snacks. We’ll wear our best pajamas, watch movies, play truth or dare, maybe have a pillow fight or two.”

“Do you get all of your sleepover knowledge from 2000s rom coms?”

“Possibly.”

Emma chuckles before turning on the mattress, shifting into Killian’s space like he shifted into hers, and when she’s turned in his arms, she blinks at him, taking in the unshaven scruff and unruly hair that most definitely hasn’t been tamed. She likes that too. His hair is always doing different things, and she can’t decide what she likes best.

“You very obviously did,” Emma sighs, running her hands over the muscled curves of his biceps, “but that’s okay. That’s where all of my knowledge came from too. The closest I’ve ever gotten to one that’s not, like, a sexual thing is when Ruby and I room together on road games.”

“I don’t think that counts because then Robin, Will, and I have had a ton of sleepovers, and none of them involve any of the fun things I was talking about before.” He reaches up to cover her hand with his before leaning in and lazily moving his lips against hers. There are a lot of things she’s learning at twenty-seven, and one of them is most definitely how much she likes lazy morning make out sessions. They’re definitely one of the seven wonders of the world. “And who said there was going to be nothing sexual about our sleepover? I was definitely planning at least a little something.”

Her nose scrunches up, and Killian moves to gently bite it, making her laugh. “We can have something sexual happen, but only if it’s during truth or dare. No funny business otherwise, mister.”

His lips part like he’s going to say something, and she runs her hand up and down his arm as she waits. But then he blinks one long, slow blink and shuts his mouth, whatever words he was going to say curling back on his tongue.

“What?” she questions, moving her leg against his.

“Nothing,” Killian smiles, pressing forward to run his lips over hers again, making her toes curl from the way that he knows just what to do in a kiss to make her happy. “I was simply thinking of this sleepover we’re going to have, and how I need to buy some better pajamas for it. I can’t have you seeing me in anything less than decent.”

“You’re not wearing any clothes right now.”

“And I’ve yet to hear a complaint from you about that, so I think this may be decent attire.”

“Well then,” she sighs, slowly running her foot up his calf again and watching his eyes darken, “I think it’ll be perfectly fine attire then too.”

-/-

This is stupid.

This is so, so stupid. She can’t believe she’s doing this. It’s ridiculous. The most ridiculous thing in the entire world. Okay, maybe not in the entire world, but she’s feeling extra dramatic right now.

The most dramatic, and that’s not an exaggeration.

Killian told her to meet him in the hallway where all of the suites in the stadium are located, and she’s been standing her for fifteen minutes pretending to look at her phone instead of actually looking at her phone and answering emails or something. Or checking stats for the game. She should be doing that, but they’re still in the top of the first inning, and she’s pretty sure this is going to be the game that never ends.

Ever.

And she’ll be stuck in this hallway in London for the rest of her life and die in the yellow maxi dress that she spent thirty minutes picking out because she had no idea what to wear to her secret boyfriend’s niece’s tea party birthday. She’d also debated on going out and getting a gift despite their conversation last night, but then she’d reminded herself that she’s not technically planning on coming to this thing. It’s some kind of fake spur of the moment thing, and bringing a gift would ruin that.

She needs to calm down.

This is fine.

A set of doors to her left open, and she sees Killian walk through. She’s so used to seeing him dressed in his uniform or sweatpants and some kind of team-branded t-shirt when they’re in a baseball stadium that it throws her off when she sees him in tight-fighting blue jeans with a light blue button down tucked in, the sleeves rolled up and several buttons at the top undone so that she can see little tufts of black hair and the silver chain that he wears to keep his mom’s ring next to his heart.

Athletes have all kinds of traditions and superstitions for every part of their life, but her favorite is that Killian keeps that ring on him at all times.

“Hello, kind acquaintance,” he teases when he sees her, eyes darting around the hallway while he steps closer, “funny running into you here looking absolutely gorgeous in that dress. I’d say it’s perfect for a tea party.”

“You are ridiculous.” “You have got to stop saying that about me like it’s new information.” Killian steps up to her then, looking around once more before quickly dipping his head to kiss her while grabbing her ass like they didn’t just see each other two hours ago when she finally left his room. “You do look just beautiful, though. Sometimes I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

Heat immediately rises to her cheeks, but she tries to shake it and the butterflies in her stomach off. “I ask myself the same thing about you all the time.”

Killian rolls his eyes at her before holding his arm out. “You ready to go?”

Her eyes glance down at his elbow before looking back up at him. “Why are you holding your arm like that?”

“Because it’s proper to escort a lady to an event by giving her your arm when you walk, and I like to do proper by such a lady.”

“Killian,” she protests even as her heart absolutely hammers in his chest, “we can’t do that. There are people.”

“There’s no one. Indulge me for sixty seconds, okay?”

Maybe it’s that she’s feeling overwhelmed and like taking a risk or maybe it’s the way that he smiles, but something about him has her taking his arm and placing her hand in the crook of his elbow as they walk down the hallway until they’re at the double doors of the suite.

“It’s going to be fine, Swan,” Killian promises, squeezing her hand before letting go and pushing the door open so that the sounds of children excitedly talking fill their ears and her eyes take in all of the people in the room.

It’s not many, less than are usually in a big suite, but she can see at least fifteen kids, most of them children of players, and maybe ten other adults. That doesn’t seem like the right ratio, but these kids are old enough to be semi self-sufficient about most things. Everything is fine. She’s just nervous, which only gets worse when Killian’s niece spots them.

“Uncle Killian,” Addison screeches, stopping where she is and running toward the two of them in her blue dress. Killian immediately crouches down to her level, opening his arms to her and taking her into the tightest embrace before lifting her off of the ground while Addison nuzzles into his shoulder.

It may very well be the cutest and most heart-warming thing she has ever seen in her entire life.

“Happy birthday, my little love,” he sighs, swaying her as they stand. “How are you six years old? I’m pretty sure you’re still supposed to be a baby.”

“I’m too big to be a baby. Don’t be silly.”

“Don’t be silly?” he guffaws, pulling back and adjusting his grip on Addison. “Darling, I am always silly, but so are you. You’re basically the silliest goose.”

Addison scrunches up her nose, and Emma can see Killian in her there. It might be the dimples or the blue of her eyes, but Emma can see something even though both of Killian’s nieces look exactly like their mom. She is not weird at all for noticing these things. “We have talked about this. I am not a silly goose. I am a girl.”

“Geese can be girls.”

“Did you bring me a present?”

“A present?” Killian gasps, tickling Addison’s sides so that she giggles. “Am I supposed to bring you a present? No one told me.”

“But it’s my birthday,” she pouts.

“Did you bring me a present on my birthday? I don’t remember.”

“Yes,” Addison groans, holding her head back. “I drew you a picture of us.”

“Oh, that’s right, that’s right,” Killian sighs, glancing to the side and winking at Emma, which definitely doesn’t do something weird to her heart. “You did. I have it framed on my bookshelf because I love it so much. I do have a present for you, but your mom and dad told me that I had to leave it at home so you can’t open it until you get back to America.”

“What is it?” she gasps, not at all deterred by the fact that she can’t open her present yet.

“Addy,” a male voice sighs, and Emma turns her head to the side to see Killian’s brother standing near them, and that definitely does something to her heart, “remember what we talked about? You have to be patient.”

“But I’m excited!” Killian puts her on the ground so that she’s no longer at eye-level with all of them, but her confidence might as well make her six feet tall. “Where’s Lucy? I don’t see her.”

“She’s sitting with Mommy. Why don’t you go find them while I talk to Killian and Ms. Emma here?”

That’s when Addison’s attention turns to her, and suddenly she feels like more eyes are on her than when she’s on television.

Is she terrified of a six-year-old? No, that would be ridiculous.

(Also, Killian’s brother knows her name, and while that’s not weird, she feels like it is. Then again, she knows his entire family.)

“Who are you?” she questions, her hands on her hips and eyes focused.

Emma plasters a smile on her face, one that was already there even if she didn’t realize it, before squatting down so that she’s eye-to-eye with Addison.

“Hi, Addison. My name is Emma. I work with your uncle.”

“Are you a baseball player?”

“No,” Emma laughs, and she looks up at Killian when she hears him chuckle. He simply shrugs his shoulders and waggles his brows across his forehead. “I wish I was, but I work on TV. You know those people who ask Killian all kinds of questions?”

“That’s you?”

“That’s me.”

Addison smiles, the teeth she has missing obvious, before she steps a little closer to Emma and touches her dress, running her fingers over the material. “I like your dress. It kind of looks like a princess dress. Are you going to stay for my party?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“I do. Do you want to come and look at my cake with me? It’s shaped like a unicorn.”

“Sure, sweetie,” she answers, smiling at Addison and taking her hand as she’s dragged off to the other side of the room, leaving Killian and Liam behind.

For the next hour, her best friend in the world is Addy Jones, who very much takes Emma under her wings as she shows her around the suite and introduces her to all of her friends. The only real experience Emma has with kids is Leo, and the four-year difference between six and ten is kind of insane, but it’s not hard to adjust and talk about all of the right things. It gets a little more difficult when she meets Lucy, if only because Lucy is one reserved little girl, but Emma notices that she very easily follows in Addy’s footsteps and has her own little personality, even if it’s quieter.

Lucy Jones also very much loves her uncle, and it makes Emma’s heart do that funny stuttering thing every time she looks up and sees Lucy sitting with Killian as he animatedly talks to her and makes her laugh with this little high-pitched squeal. She’s always known how much Killian loves his nieces from how he talks about them and how he has pictures of them in his apartment and on his social media, but seeing it in person is this whole new thing. He’s in his element, even more than he is when he’s on a baseball field like the one just outside, and this smile that’s been with her most of today continues to increase, the corners of her lips constantly ticking up whenever she thinks about him.

Which is a lot.

Probably more than a normal amount, and she just loves him so damn much that…

Holy shit.

She loves him.

Why is she realizing that right now as she sits at a table with people she doesn’t really even know while she watches him very obviously stick his pinky out while drinking tea teaching Lucy to do the same?

How in the world did this happen?

And is she terrified or so incredibly excited that it feels a lot like the fear that’s been weaving in and out of her days lately?

Does he love her too? Can he? She thinks that he can, that he does, but how is she ever supposed to know for sure? It’s been a good while since she actually felt this way, and she’s not sure that she trusts her heart to realize the difference.

“It’s Emma, right?”

Emma looks up from her seat to see Elsa Jones standing above her, blonde hair pulled back into a complicated braid and soft smile painted across her lips.

“Yeah, yes, that’s me,” Emma stutters, holding out her hand to shake Elsa’s. “Elsa?”

“The one and only. Well, kind of,” she laughs before pulling out the empty chair next to Emma and sitting down. “It’s so nice to meet you. I feel like I know you from your job.”

“Funny, I feel like I know you.”

Okay, so that’s probably pretty creepy. Was that creepy?

Before Emma can think about it too much, Elsa laughs, something that sounds genuine, and Emma has to remind herself that this is just another person who she knows is kind. There’s nothing to be afraid of. She talks to people for a living.

“I would bet. Killian talks far too much, so you get a lot of information out of him when you’re likely just looking to talk about the game. I really liked the special you did at the beginning of the season. It felt very much like him as a person, which I’m always so happy to see.”

“He’s a great subject. It’s not easy getting a lot of these guys to be charming and funny about things other than baseball, so I love when I find one that knows how to open up. And he’s so good with your daughters. I hope I’m not intruding on your day, but Killian – ”

“Found you wandering the halls and dragged you along?” Emma arches her brow, but Elsa simply waves her away, shaking her head from side to side as she glances out the windows to the game that Emma is only half paying attention to even though it’s her job. “Liam told me. You’re not intruding at all. Addy has gone on and on about her pretty new friend Emma, and any friend of my girl is a friend of mine. Plus, we Joneses owe you about a million apologizes for my dumbass brother-in-law asking you out.”

She has to cover her mouth with her hand as she laughs, a snort escaping her before she can stop it. “Did you guys give him hell for that? I feel like he does deserve it.”

“Oh, most definitely. Killian is not a super spontaneous guy, especially when it comes to women, not anymore at least, so I’m not entirely convinced someone didn’t spike his water bottle. I actually choked on my own water bottle when I saw it happening, so I gave him hell for that too.”

“Good, but I’ve forgiven him as long as he never does something like that again. Our working relationship is much better now because he can basically never say no when I want an interview.”

“True,” she says, her smile somehow brighter. “You’ve got to use those kinds of things in your favor. I do it with Liam all the time. It works like a charm.”

“What does?” Liam asks as he steps up to them.

“Hi, sweetie,” Elsa greets him, tilting her head back so that Liam can kiss her. “Have you met Emma?”

“I did when she came in, but I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to her before Addy dragged her away. So, it’s nice to meet you, Emma.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well. I was telling Elsa that it’s good to put real faces to names I’ve heard so much about.”

“You’ve heard a lot about us?”

“Oh, y-yeah,” she mumbles, internally cursing herself again. “Work and all. I know far too much about the lives of all of the players, which is both a good and bad thing.”

“I would bet. Do you know about – ”

“Yesterday?” she asks. Liam nods his head, his smile tightened. “Yeah, I know. It was shitty, but it happens. And I’m glad Will and Killian and some of the other guys stood up for me like that, even if Killian was an idiot for messing up his hand. But I feel like I’m part of the team sometimes, and it’s nice to know they have my back.”

“Emma,” Addy squeals as she runs toward the three of them, completely ignoring her parents, “Killian said to come and get you to ask if you wanted to join our tea party. He says that you don’t know how to drink tea, and I have to help you.”

Her eyes immediately glance over to Killian, and when he moves his brow across his forehead, laughter bubbles inside of her stomach and her mouth falls into a soft smile. The ridiculous fool.

“You know what, Addy,” she sighs, “I don’t think I know how to drink tea. You and Lucy will have to teach me, okay?”

“I know. Come on.” Addison tugs at her arm until she rises from her chair, excusing herself to Liam and Elsa before she’s dragged across the room and over to the table where all of Addison’s friends and Killian are eat snacks and drinking tea, which looks a lot more like orange juice, and Emma is told to sit down in the chair next to Killian who is holding Lucy’s goldfish snacks while she inspects all of them. “Uncle Killian, I brought Emma over. Emma, do you want orange tea or apple tea?”

“Um, orange tea.”

Addy nods her head before she’s running off to the other side of the table and leaving Emma with Killian and Lucy.

“So, you need to teach me how to drink tea then?”

He shrugs his shoulders as he attempts to flip the hair that’s fallen over his forehead back. “My brother and sister-in-law had cornered you, and I thought you might need a little saving. I knew that you were a little nervous about meeting them.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“You talk in your sleep.”

“I do not, you as – jerk,’” she corrects, stopping herself when Lucy looks up at her. “Hi, sweetheart. I like your dress.”

“Thank you,” she says quietly, sweetly. “It’s yellow. Yours is yellow.”

“I know. We’re basically twins. Are you going to eat your goldfish?”

Lucy softly smiles, little blonde curls falling in her face, before picking up a handful of her snacks from Killian and offering them over to Emma in a sweet gesture that definitely rivals everything romantic that her uncle has ever done.

“Thank you, Lucy.” Emma pops one into her mouth only to look up at Killian and see that his eyes are crinkled, those little lines showing up, and her stomach pleasantly twists at the sight of it. She realized that she loved him less than twenty minutes ago, and there are still a lot of crazy feelings processing in her brain right now. A lot. “Do you want some, twenty-nine?”

Killian blinks, almost like he doesn’t recognize her nickname for him, before reaching over and taking some of the fish that she’s offering him. It’s cheesy and very romance novel-ish, but she swears that she feels sparks when his fingers brush over the palm of her hands.

“Thank you, love.”

“I have your orange team, Emma,” Addy shouts as she comes back to them, balancing a far too full plastic cup of orange juice that spills a little on the carpet until Emma takes it from Addy’s hand.

“Well, thank you, Addy. But it’s your birthday. Shouldn’t I be helping you do something instead of you handing me my tea?”

Addy hums at this, her forefinger tapping against her chin while her foot taps on the ground. “You can help me open my presents later, okay?”

“That sounds like a deal.”

-/-

“Working hard or hardly working?”

Emma pulls the headphones from her ears so that she can hear Killian better, even though she could most definitely hear the cheesy phrase that just came out of his mouth. His family is flying back on the team plane, as are all of the other players’ families, and since she is Addison Jones’s new favorite person as of seven hours ago, she was asked to sit with all of the Jones clan, which has really just been her sitting in a seat by the window with Addy and Lucy switching seats until the both of them were corralled by their parents to go to sleep. And now she’s got Killian sitting next to her, which is what she was hoping for but isn’t the most subtle thing in the world.

They are not subtle people even when they probably think they are.

She’d never make it in federal law enforcement or something like that.

“My deadline is in an hour, and I had to pay twenty-seven dollars for WiFi so that I could send it in.”

“So, working hard?”

“Yep.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, no,” she protests, reaching down to take another sip of her coffee. Her jet-lag is going to be even worse of a bitch tomorrow. “You can stay. I just have to check my stat facts, and then I’ll be finished. It’s kind of hard to work when everyone else is asleep and it’s so dark in here, so, you know, I’m drinking all of the caffeine to stay awake. I think I have a food baby made of unicorn cake.”

“Aye, me too,” he laughs as he pats his stomach. “That was too much sugar.”

“No such thing.”

“Oh, but there is, darling.” His hand brushes over her forearm, and she can see the slight scabs and marks from him punching Arthur yesterday. Nothing new has been said, no suspensions mentioned, and she hopes that it stays that way. She also hopes that nothing like that ever happens again.

“How does your hand feel?”

“A little sore, but I’m right as rain. It’s a good thing I have several days off, yeah?”

Emma groans, shutting her eyes just at the thought of getting up to work tomorrow like most people on this plane except for Killian and Robin. “Don’t remind me. I’m going to look like a zombie tomorrow, and feel even worse than that. If I ever go overseas again, it’s going to be for long enough to adjust to the time.”

“You and me both,” he yawns, and she’s totally endeared by the way his face contorts there only for him to smile at her with a tired, boyish grin that she’s endeared by even more. “Finish up your article, my love, and then I say that you at least try to go to sleep.”

“Always looking out for me.”

“You know it.”

Her hand reaches over his scarred one so that she can squeeze it, which is all she can really do right now. But honestly, being right here next to him simply sitting together after all of the craziness of these few days – baseball, meeting her boyfriend’s family, asshole players getting punched, quick tours of London that went by in a blur, and realizing that she loves Killian – is more than enough when it’s already absolutely everything.

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan

85 notes · View notes